If you’ve been to Boston before, or even if you’re a newcomer who’s done his or her research—Fodor’s Guide, Frommer’s or (ahem) the fine publication you’re holding right now—you’ve probably worked out the basics of Boston by now: The Freedom Trail, superb Italian food in The North End, shopping on Newbury Street, Fenway Park and the “Green Monster.”
But beyond the popular attractions that our city has to offer, Boston is also a city rife with oddball history, hidden curiosities and quirky insider stories that you can’t hear just anywhere. That’s why Panorama wants to take the opportunity to answer the head-scratchers that you might ask yourself as you explore the Hub—which leads perfectly into our first question…
1. What’s all this “Hub” stuff?
I suppose most of us
regard the city we live in to be the center
of the universe, but Boston’s taken it to a
new level. In 1858, Cambridge native Oliver
Wendell Holmes described the Massachusetts
State House as “the hub of the solar
system.” Over time, this nickname stuck, and
evolved into the even grander “Hub of the
Universe” as a description of Boston’s place
in creation. Local retail giant Filene’s
even erected a plaque outside its flagship
store at the corner of Washington and Summer
streets, declaring that particular spot to
be the actual, geographical center of the
universe. (To our knowledge, neither Carl
Sagan nor Stephen Hawking was consulted on
this.) Sadly, the plaque is today covered by
a storage facility. These days, our local
delusion of grandeur is mostly restrained to
newspaper and magazine articles as a
shorthand way of referring to Boston (you’ve
gotta admit, it sounds a lot cooler than
Beantown).
2. Where’s the
(Tea) Party At?
The Boston Tea Party was a
formative event not only in our city’s
history, but our nation’s history as well,
making the site of the famed bit of
rebellion a popular attraction for visitors
when they come to Boston. That’s why it’s so
sad to watch bemused and bewildered tourists
stand on the Congress Street Bridge
overlooking Fort Point Channel, looking back
and forth between the map in their hands and
the empty space where the Tea Party Ship &
Museum is supposed to be.
From 1973–2001, the original Tea Party Museum and a replica of the Brig Beaver (one of the original ships raided in 1773) could be found in the Channel. Then, the building caught fire in 2001 and was closed for repairs. During the closure, an expansion for the museum was planned, with renovations of the Brig Beaver and the construction of replicas of the other two ships involved in the incident, the Dartmouth and the Eleanor, beginning in 2004. Then, in 2007, the still-damaged museum site caught fire again during renovations to the bridge. After that, the existing structure could no longer be salvaged, and in 2008, the whole thing was demolished. According to the latest report from Historic Tours of Americas, owners and operators of the venue, a new Museum complete with all three ships is now scheduled to open in the summer of 2010.
3. So, What’s with the Lights on the Hancock
Building?
Let’s say you’re in the
Back Bay for a fun evening on the town, but
you forgot to check the weather report
before heading out. Sure, you could go to
weather.com on your iPhone or Blackberry, or
you could take the approach that Bostonians
have turned to through the years: find the
Old John Hancock Building (a.k.a. the
Berkeley Building, not to be confused with
the modern, 60-story John Hancock Tower on
nearby Clarendon Street) and look up. Atop
the skyscraper is a weather beacon that uses
red and blue lights to clue the
meteorologically impaired in on what they
can expect from Mother Nature. There’s even
a helpful rhyme to keep things straight:
“Steady blue, clear view/Flashing blue,
clouds due/Steady red, rain ahead/Flashing
red, snow instead.”
And if you see the red lights flashing during the summer, don’t panic—freak snowstorms in September are rare, even in New England. During baseball season, the flashing reds simply mean that the evening’s Red Sox game has been cancelled due to bad weather.
4. Why is Harvard
University’s statue of John Harvard the
“statue of three lies”?
Given how much it costs to
attend prestigious Harvard University, we
can only hope that the information
disseminated to students in those Ivy league
lecture halls is a darn sight more accurate
than the inscription (“John Harvard,
Founder, 1638”) on this famed statue that
resides in front of Harvard’s University
Hall. Lie #1: The school wasn’t founded in
1638, but in 1636. Lie #2: Harvard was
actually founded by the colonial government,
and was only named for John Harvard when he
bequeathed his library to it. And Lie #3?
The statue isn’t even of John Harvard—no
authentic portraits of the man himself
existed when sculptor Daniel Chester French
was commissioned to create the statue in
1884. So, French simply had a buddy of his
sit in as a model, and the rest is (false)
history.
5.
How many Dunkin’ Donuts does one city need,
anyway?
There are a few phrases that you’re certain
to never hear uttered within Boston city
limits: things like “I’m a huge Red Sox fan,
but I’ve really got to tip my cap to Alex
Rodriguez,” “Remember the good ol’ Central
Artery?” or “Those poor tolltakers on the
Mass. Pike are grossly underpaid.” But at
the top of the list would have to be, “If
only there were a Dunkin’ Donuts somewhere
nearby!” Folks from outside the Hub might
scoff at the coffee-and-donuts titan’s claim
that “America Runs on Dunkin’, “ but it’s
only a slight exaggeration to suggest that
goings-on in the city of Boston might grind
to a halt if we woke up one morning and
found ourselves without the comfort of our
pink and orange emblazoned cups of java and
our icy cold Coolattas. To ensure that never
happens, the folks at DD have established no
fewer than 68 shop locations in Boston
proper—roughly one shop per 1.4 square miles
of land.
6. What’s with the
Red Seat at Fenway Park?
Visible among the mass of
green seats out in the bleachers of Fenway
Park sits one bright red seat. This ruby
anomaly—Section 42, Row 37, Seat
21—commemorates the longest home run ever
measured within Fenway Park, struck June 9,
1946 by the Boston Red Sox’s legendary
Splendid Splinter, Ted Williams. The
round-tripper, smacked off the Detroit
Tigers’ Fred Hutchinson—without the help of
steroids, incidentally—traveled 502 feet and
bounced off the head of fan Joseph A.
Boucher (legend says the ball went straight
through Boucher’s straw hat).
7.
Who’s that Statue of?
Cy Young: This monument to the
ace pitcher (a) that all aces are compared
against (the annual award for baseball’s
best pitchers bears his name, after all) can
be found on the Northeastern University
campus (access via Forsyth Street), on the
spot once occupied by the pitcher’s mound at
the old Huntington Avenue Grounds. It’s
there that Young starred for the Boston
Americans (later the Red Sox) in the 1903
World Series.
Kevin White: Located outside Faneuil Hall, this larger-than-life statue (b) honors a beloved, larger-than-life Boston politician. White served as Mayor of Boston from 1968–1984, the second-longest tenure for a Boston mayor, and guided the city through a period of racial strife and the controversial institution of school busing in the 1970s.
Harriet Tubman: The runaway slave who liberated dozens of her compatriots via the Underground Railroad and served as an Army nurse and spy during the Civil War is remembered with an eight-foot tall statue (c) in the South End, at the corner of Columbus Avenue and Pembroke Street.
Red Auerbach: Phil Jackson of the Lakers may have just passed longtime Celtics coach and GM Auerbach as the owner of the most NBA championships, but a statue in Boston is something the Zen master will never have. This memorial to Red—seated on a bench in Faneuil Hall Marketplace, clutching his ever-present victory cigar (d)—celebrates the man who established the Boston Celtics as a basketball dynasty and led the way in the racial integration of the NBA.
8. Can I really
Pahk my Cahh at Hahvid Yaahhd?
Only if you want the Cambridge police, a
local tow service and, perhaps, the Harvard
Crimson football team to descend upon it.
Harvard Yard is the green grassy quad that
exists between the school’s venerable brick
and stone dorms and administration
buildings. Future doctors, lawyers and
captains of industry are welcome—your Kia
Sportage, not so much.
9. Is the Omni
Parker House a Breeding Ground for Political
Revolutionaries?
The longest continuously operating hotel in
the U.S. (established 1855) has always been
associated with its celebrity guests. From
John Wilkes Booth (who stayed there a week
before he shot Abe Lincoln) to Charles
Dickens to Joan Crawford to John F. Kennedy
(who announced his run for Congress in 1953
at the hotel), famous folks from all walks
of life have graced its halls.
However, two of the best-known names associated with the hotel only became famous after their time there—and before that happened, they had to pay their dues like anyone else. In 1913, more than 30 years before he rose to power as the ruler of North Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh worked in the Parker House kitchen as a busboy and baker—probably working on Boston cream pies, which were invented there. And at about the same time old Ho Chi was choosing the drapes in his presidential office, in the 1940s, future American civil rights firebrand Malcolm X was employed at the Parker House as a busboy. Talk about a place of employment with opportunities for advancement.
10. What’s up with
the Giant Tea Kettle?
The enormous, steaming brass tea kettle
located at the corner of Court and Tremont
streets (hanging, ironically, over a
Starbucks location) was erected as a piece
of 19th- century marketing strategy when it
was constructed in 1875. The kettle was an
advertisement for the now-defunct Oriental
Tea Company in Scollay Square, and is large
enough to hold 227 gallons, 2 quarts and
13⁄4 pints of liquid.
11. Do Bostonians
Really Worship the Cod?
Short answer: of course not—what are we,
lunatics? Longer answer: “The Sacred Cod” is
a five-foot-long pine carving of a codfish
(a staple of the early Massachusetts diet
and economy) that has hung in the House of
Representatives chamber in the State
House—and, before that, the Old State
House—since the early 18th century. (The
current cod, carved by John Rowe in 1784, is
actually the third incarnation—the first
burned in a 1747 fire and the second
disappeared during British occupation during
the Revolutionary War.) The Sacred Cod hangs
in the rear of the House Chamber, so that
the Speaker faces it when he addresses the
House, and—according to tradition—the faux
fish faces in the direction of whichever
political party holds power in the House.
12. Why Does the
Harvard Bridge Lead to MIT?
The answer here lies with our old
“statuesque” friend, the Rev. John Harvard,
who people just apparently loved to name
things after—the bridge was named after him,
not the school that also bears his name. And
at the time that it was built, in 1891, MIT
was not located as close to the bridge as it
is today (it was 25 years later that the
school took up its current residence near
the bridge). Today, locals are just as
likely to refer to it as the “MIT Bridge” or
“Mass. Ave. Bridge.”
All of which puts to rest an apocryphal,
but humorous explanation proffered for the
naming of the bridge. As the story went, the
state offered to name the bridge after the
more deserving Cambridge university. Harvard
made the case that their reputation as an
educational institution was more
prestigious, and the bridge should bear
their name, while MIT did a structural
analysis, found the bridge full of
significant flaws and shortcomings, and
agreed that it should bear Harvard’s name.
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