Early Morning Walk Shows Character(s) of the Town - June 29, 1965

It was a brilliant summer dawn plus one hour in Rockport-town as we slipped into Bermudas and flamboyant straw to take a fat-thieving amble around the town's center in an effort to gather a bit of news before bussing it to the office in Gloucester. We have always felt than an old-time newshawk was correct when he said there was always a front page headline in any walk around a big town or a small town block any time of the night or day.

From our School Street home, we headed for the main stem sans wife, sans boxer Mollie, but not Matisse, that bright-eyed male French poodle belonging to our long-time artist friend, moustachioed, curly-black-haired Iver Rose, who has been coming to Rockport summers from the Year One, it would seem.

Iver with his swank cane was on his regular early morning stroll. Matisse was in a sniffing mood as usual. You could almost hear him woof out, "Where's my pal Mollie?"

We drifted up Jewett Street and noted the individuality of the summer apartments that seemed to come out of a jigsaw puzzle with no thought of design. To us they looked a lot more chummy.

Up past the always exciting frame shop of Frenchy Hilliard's, a craft shop run by a master who is as vocally expressive as he is clever with his working hands. And for the kids, he sees to it they have a basketball hoop nailed on the shop's outside wall.

Across the way are two properties that in our post-dawn imagination are about the most attractive in what to us is a most attractive town. We refer to the adjoining properties of Town Clerk Esther Johnson and her son-in-law, Francis Bruni, on Jewett St. Their well-kept lawns are the greenest, the gardens with plenty of character in color and design. Bruni deals in rustic fences, so he put up a stunner on his own compact estate. And of course it helps to have a landscape specialist for a brother-in-law, Charlie Spiewak across the street. Charlie's yard also well reflects his calling.

It gives a guy a real lift of an early morning to breathe in the beauty of such grounds as those of the Johnson clan. Even the birds have a richer chirp in that environment.

Adding to the scene is the sign, "Brooksie's Barn" with firewood on the Spiewak property. We remember Brooksie, a most colorful soul.

Through the Town Office Building grounds to note what a grand job custodian George Soini does with them these days. Hard to tell who is better him or veteran custodian Eben Knowlton, once of Town Hall, now of the Rockport Post Office. Fellows like them help to make this town worth living in.

Getting on toward 7 a.m. and down Broadway we could see a noted Rockporter, artist-yachtsman Max Kuehne with his lively Scottie, after the morning Boston paper. You can set your watch by that 85-year-old bereted Max.

We detoured to cool off our aching "pups" to call on Officer Blaker at police headquarters who keeps us Rockporters healthy crime-wise through the dark hours -- or at least we hope he does. His answer to our perennial question, "What's new?" drew a negative reply. There were "No fires, no robberies, no murders, in fact, no nothing." Our Rockport is a clean, clean town, man!

No early morning walk or ride in Rockport is complete without dropping in at Ellen's Coffee Shop on Mount Pleasant St. at Dock Square. And who are we to be non-conformists? In that two-by-four java paradise at this time of day gather many of the town notables, selectmen, contractors and other characters ad infinitum, even a reporter, character of characters. And of course we came in for the usual ribbing. We think it was one Harold Hobbs throwing the barbs this time. How could we tell with a face full of hot what-you-may-call-it.

But that's our Rockport before you let up the curtain, throw out the mutt for a dewatering. Great town, boys, really great town.

This is the story we found in our jaunt around the block.

J.P.C., Jr.

NOTE: Ellen's is now on T-Wharf, a larger restaurant, serving lunch and dinner as well as breakfast, but still as customer friendly as ever. The old Ellen's is now The Red Skiff, and retains the tradition of being a "two by four java paradise".