In the last few years I have taken a renewed interest in history. Not so much world history or American history as local history. Well, it was local history until I moved away. Now it is the history of my hometown. Funny how when I was living there I could have learned so much first hand and never took the time. Isn’t that always the way ? We never seem to see the things that are right in front of us. We seem to look to the distance. Not seeing the trees for the forest,as it were.
The area I grew up in was called Northwest woods. I lived on the northern fringe of this geographic area. I was aware of it’s general location in the township and knew it’s boundaries. I wandered around this wooded area as a young boy playing cowboys or whatever. I thought I was deep into these woods but probably not too far from home. There were homes scattered about throughout the area and I was aware of trespass. What I didn’t know was there was a ” lost ” village in these woods. The village of Northwest. My own ancestors lived in this village and I was totally unaware. I never heard of anyone speak of this village. I probably just wasn’t listening. This lost village was no more than a distant memory in my parents time so it is no wonder. I learned later that there were those researching this area but I knew nothing of that. It would have been something the old folks did. Old folks are always walking around in the cemeteries and in dusty attics. Now I’ve grown older myself and haunt these same areas. History repeating itself.
The little knowledge I do have comes from an old book. This book was published in 1953 and contains four pages about this little village. In my genealogy research I discovered some of my ancestors living there and a least one buried there. According to the book I have, there are five tiny cemeteries located in these woods. My own Grandmother lived in this village at one time but moved before the village was gone. I have learned there was a fledgling shipbuilding operation going on there. There was a wharf for ships and whale ships sailed from this harbor. Goods were exported and imported and there was a lively trade. Alas, across the bay in an area of deeper water, another pier was built. This pier was larger and the anchorage was better.
Trade shifted and a village died. A community fading back into the woods.
How different things may have been had it survived and prospered. Hopes and dreams were lost and shattered. A few lonely souls are buried there. Alone in the village they must have loved, the last residents.