The “Witch House” earned its name. Constructed in the mid 16th century and painted black, it’s the only structure to remain that is connected with the infamous witch trials. We toured the house in Salem, Massachusetts and the $20.00 spent on the guided tour was well worth the fee.
The house belonged to Magistrate Jonathan Corwin at the time charges of witchcraft were brought against Sarah Good, Sarah Osborne, and Tituba as accused tormentors of two young girls, Betty Parris, age 9, and Abigail Williams, age 11.
Through centuries, the witch trials brought about much speculation as to the original events that eventually caused the hangings and deaths in prison of 24 people.
The Peabody Essex Museum houses 552 original, preserved documents pertaining to the witchcraft trials. On display are eerie memorabilia such as “Witch Pins,” used in the examination of withes. A small bottle containing the supposed finger bone of victim George Jacobs remains at the Courthouse in Salem.
While Magistrate Jonathan Corwin never wrote anything about the witch trials, he did later offer an apology for his part in the proceedings. The imaginative minds of children and the dynamics of Puritanism obviously played a key role in the deplorable accusations.
“The Crucible,” first a play, early 1900’s, and then later revived in movies, portrays the witch trials of Salem. If you want closer-to-the-truth facts rely on historical documents because liberties were taken in the latest movie, 1996, and known facts were changed to enhance story lines.
Most historians agree that the Old Testament ninth commandment was broken during the accusations and trials: “You shall not bear false witness” (Exodus 20:16). Bearing false witness means that one whispers, bears tales or slanders a person. Of course bearing false witness is as common today as it was at the villainous witch trials in Salem.
When I was a child and first read about the Salem trials, I remember the feeling of horror that young girls could wreak such havoc and cost lives. Not long after, a tale I’d started landed me in trouble, but my parents found out and nipped my insult before anyone went to the gallows.
When someone behaves badly we tend to measure their words, intents, and actions, with an ugly stick. As a listener we have choices to make with what we see and hear. We can think the worst or we can pause and wonder what might have caused their irritability. Reputations, businesses, and lives can be lost because of misconceptions or deliberate slander.
George Bernard Shaw said, “The only person who acts sensibly is my tailor. He takes my measure anew every time he sees me. Everyone else goes by their old measurements.”
A proverb says, “He who covers over an offense promotes love, but whoever repeats the matter separates close friends” (17:9). If you lived in Salem in the 16th Century, tittle-tattle could have separated the neck bone from the backbone. Gossip and slander sever. Follow the tailor’s actions and take new measurements when you meet folks.
Showing posts with label MA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MA. Show all posts
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Friday, October 05, 2007
Friendly Award
A man who has friends must himself be friendly~ Proverbs18:24
In the past when someone labeled Texans as unfriendly, I bristled, like the spine-fur on a dog’s neck when its territory is threatened. Even in our huge-hearted state, the unfriendly-label-blanket can be thrown over an entire community when visitors encounter town grouches.
My husband David and I would like to give out a “friendly” award to the Northeast town of Gloucester, Massachusetts. Last week in Gloucester, David and his army buddy (Vietnam) Chris Larsen reunited for the first time in nearly four decades. Over the years, phone calls and mail kept them in touch, and we finally met his lovely wife Joan and family.
Of Finnish descent, Chris Larsen comes from a long line of stout-hearted commercial fishermen. Lost at sea, his grandfather’s and uncle’s names are at a cenotaph, a memorial to those whose remains are elsewhere.
One memorial features a fisherman’s wife and two children gazing toward the Atlantic horizon, searching the seascape for the husband and father they kissed goodbye. Some 10,000 Gloucester fishermen have lost their lives since the 1600s. Over 5,000 known names are honored at the memorials.
Chris owns Larsen’s Shoes on Main Street, a much safer occupation. On a touristy Saturday, he didn’t open his store. Instead, he guided us around Cape Ann. We visited granite rock quarries, wharfs, filming locations for the movie “The Perfect Storm” (about the fishing vessel, “Andrea Gail,” lost at sea 1991). I dipped my toes in the Atlantic, just because I could.
At Stage Fort Park, we walked Half Moon Beach, home to a 1600’s settlement. And, moored on towering rocks we photographed an arsenal of antique cannons, jutting toward the Atlantic. There, we climbed atop 50 foot granite boulders.
Driving in any new area can be challenging. In Gloucester, some streets allow for parking on both sides, narrowing the lane for moving vehicles. Traffic rotaries are abundant, road-hubs where—three, four or five—side roads converge onto the paved circle. Rotary vehicles have the right of way, but on other roads, Chris said, “Everyone has the right-of-way.”
When Dave and I drove in town, friendly folk often let us cut in line. We’d be waiting to turn out of a parking lot onto a busy street, and a charitable driver would stop, honk-honk, and wave us into the traffic. Innumerable times.
Soon, we too had our windows down, waving cars into the bumper-to-bumper parade ahead of us. Like a communicable disease, Massachusetts friendliness went around, and we caught some.
While there, we discussed wild turkeys. Massachusetts still has plenty. To our surprise in downtown Boston a few days later from a trolley window, we saw a lone wild turkey foraging with pigeons on a grassy area. The easygoing pigeons seemed to accept him as one of their own.
To glimpse God’s extravagant handiwork and experience pleasant people, visit Gloucester. And I imagine our friend Chris could outfit you with a nice pair of walking shoes, too.
In the past when someone labeled Texans as unfriendly, I bristled, like the spine-fur on a dog’s neck when its territory is threatened. Even in our huge-hearted state, the unfriendly-label-blanket can be thrown over an entire community when visitors encounter town grouches.
My husband David and I would like to give out a “friendly” award to the Northeast town of Gloucester, Massachusetts. Last week in Gloucester, David and his army buddy (Vietnam) Chris Larsen reunited for the first time in nearly four decades. Over the years, phone calls and mail kept them in touch, and we finally met his lovely wife Joan and family.
Of Finnish descent, Chris Larsen comes from a long line of stout-hearted commercial fishermen. Lost at sea, his grandfather’s and uncle’s names are at a cenotaph, a memorial to those whose remains are elsewhere.
One memorial features a fisherman’s wife and two children gazing toward the Atlantic horizon, searching the seascape for the husband and father they kissed goodbye. Some 10,000 Gloucester fishermen have lost their lives since the 1600s. Over 5,000 known names are honored at the memorials.
Chris owns Larsen’s Shoes on Main Street, a much safer occupation. On a touristy Saturday, he didn’t open his store. Instead, he guided us around Cape Ann. We visited granite rock quarries, wharfs, filming locations for the movie “The Perfect Storm” (about the fishing vessel, “Andrea Gail,” lost at sea 1991). I dipped my toes in the Atlantic, just because I could.
At Stage Fort Park, we walked Half Moon Beach, home to a 1600’s settlement. And, moored on towering rocks we photographed an arsenal of antique cannons, jutting toward the Atlantic. There, we climbed atop 50 foot granite boulders.
Driving in any new area can be challenging. In Gloucester, some streets allow for parking on both sides, narrowing the lane for moving vehicles. Traffic rotaries are abundant, road-hubs where—three, four or five—side roads converge onto the paved circle. Rotary vehicles have the right of way, but on other roads, Chris said, “Everyone has the right-of-way.”
When Dave and I drove in town, friendly folk often let us cut in line. We’d be waiting to turn out of a parking lot onto a busy street, and a charitable driver would stop, honk-honk, and wave us into the traffic. Innumerable times.
Soon, we too had our windows down, waving cars into the bumper-to-bumper parade ahead of us. Like a communicable disease, Massachusetts friendliness went around, and we caught some.
While there, we discussed wild turkeys. Massachusetts still has plenty. To our surprise in downtown Boston a few days later from a trolley window, we saw a lone wild turkey foraging with pigeons on a grassy area. The easygoing pigeons seemed to accept him as one of their own.
To glimpse God’s extravagant handiwork and experience pleasant people, visit Gloucester. And I imagine our friend Chris could outfit you with a nice pair of walking shoes, too.
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