Greenport - The Right Place at the Wrong Time

By Roselle Borrelli

Greenport: The Right Place at the Wrong Time, a historical tale by Roselle Borrelli, is a story about a house, a family, a builder, and some of the people who lived in the village of Greenport from approximately 1830s to early 1900s. It is a true historical account of the happenings in Greenport based mostly on a compilation of facts in the local historical newspapers. With all the facts in order, the story weaves its tale based on the author’s own unique, odd, and paranormal experiences within the home. How the facts come to unravel their tale is all part of the investigation into the lives of Andrew J. Wiggins and Orange H. Cleaves. These two important men of Greenport Village, although having lived nearly 150 years ago, come to life on the pages of the book. The two men’s lives become revealed to the author who happens to be the owner of the house where it all took place. The Right Place at The Wrong Time describes the author’s sensation of being the perfect person to live in the house, but understands that she might have arrived late, maybe 150 years late. That being said, the story tells a tale of odd occurrences, leads, and coincidences that will have you convinced there might just be something else going on than that which meets the eye.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781640820432

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Greenport - The Right Place at the Wrong Time

Roselle Borrelli

Copyright © 2017 Roselle Borrelli

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

ISBN 978-1-64082-042-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64082-044-9 (Hard Cover)

ISBN 978-1-64082-043-2 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

For Diego, Laura, Bonnie, and Joe. You know. You live there.

Home

By Edgar Albert Guest, 1881–1959

It takes a heap o’livin in a house t’make it home,

A heap o’ sun an’ shadder, an’ ye sometimes have t’ roam

Afore ye really ‘preciate the things ye lef’ behind,

An’ hunger fer ‘em somehow, with ‘em allus on yer mind.

It don’t make any difference how rich ye get t’be,

How much yer chairs an’ tables cost, how great yer luxury;

It ain’t home t’ ye, though it be the palace of a king,

Until somehow yer soul is sort o’ wrapped round everything.

Home ain’t a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;

Afore it’s home there’s got t’ be a heap o’ livin in it;

Within the walls ther’s got t’ be some babies born, and then

Right there ye’ve got t’ bring ‘em up t’ women good , an’ men;

And gradjerly, as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn’t part

With anything they ever used-they’ve grown into yer heart:

The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore

Ye hoard; an’ if ye could ye’d keep the thumbmarks on the door.

Ye’ve got t’ weep t’ make it home, ye’ve got t’ sit an’ sigh

An’ watch beside a loved one’s bed, an’ know that Death is nigh;

An’ in the stillness o’ the night t’ see Death’s angel come,

An’ close the eyes o’ her that smiled, and’ leave her sweet voice dumb.

Fer these are scenes that grip the heart, an’ when yer tears are dried,

Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an’ sanctified;

An’ tuggin’ at ye always are the pleasant memories

O’ her that was an’ is no more-ye can’t escape from these.

Ye’ve got t’ sing an’ dance fer years, ye’ve got t’ romp an’ play,

An’ learn t’ love the things ye have by usin’ ‘em each day;

Even the roses ‘round the porch must blossom year by year

Afore they ‘come a part o’ ye, suggestin’ someone dear

Who used t’ love ‘em long ago, an’ trained ‘em jes’ t’ run

The way they do, so’s they would get the early mornin’ sun;

Ye’ve got t’ love each brick an’ stone from cellar up t’ dome:

It takes a heap o’ livin in a house t’ make it home.

All My Thank Yous

As with anything you do, one rarely does it alone. So not wishing to disappoint, this book was and will continue to be a work in progress. I build upon knowledge all the time. I remember the little I knew of Greenport of the 1850s–60s, and I think of how much I know today. But all that knowledge could never have been possible without the help of many friends, old and new, who I have met in my research. I would like to first thank every librarian from Riverhead out to Greenport who has helped me. They are listed from West to East—

1. Edward H.L. Smith III, (Ned): Suffolk County Historical Society, Riverhead. Without Ned’s help, I never would have found A.J. Wiggin’s store, and for helping me find Dr. Lord’s Estate on the old map! Hope I find another reason to go back and visit.

2. Jeff Walden, Director: Mattituck Library. A native Greenporter, Jeff is charming, hardworking—digs right in to help—and extremely forthcoming with information.

3. Mariella Oliver Ostroski: Cutchogue New Suffolk Library. If you have never seen the local history wing where Mariella is, you are missing something. She is a bundle of information and very nice about it. She found two photos of Mr. Cleaves’ house in her Post Cards. I almost cried!

4. Melissa Andruski: Southold Library—so nice, so helpful. Thank you!

5. Dan McCarthy Southold Historical Society: He kept my mission in his sites. He forwarded, looked through, talked with me, explained, and tirelessly brought out books from his safe! Just amazing.

6. Bud Jackson: Southold Historical Society. He tirelessly listened to my updates, stories, and always had someone else to suggest I contact, read, research. Love him.

7. Amy Folk: Southold Historical Society, or maybe mostly the Oyster Ponds Historical Society. Amy never said no. She questioned, helped, assisted, but mostly made available to me any and all of the information she had at hand. She is truly amazing! I must have been to see her five times. It was always to read, reread, and read yet again Mr. Cleaves’ ledger.

And then, there are those who I interviewed over and over and yet again.

8. Venetian McKeighan: I don’t think she really understood how her life would change just because I decided to buy a house—from day one through the closing, restoring, ghosts, priests, and story upon story. I love her for listening, for her endless local charm, stories that she told me, and for being a hard worker and a wonderful friend!

9. Mr. Bob White: He was charming, helpful, and so knowledgeable. He pointed me right to my second Cleaves House!

10. Mrs. Josephine Watkins-Johnson: For all she remembered about my house in the late 1920s and thereabouts. She was entertaining, informative, and so delightful. She enlightened me on the goings on in the tower.

11. Jenny Barr: Presbyterian Historical Society, Philadelphia, PA. I was so grateful to the Presbyterians for keeping the most incredible records of their congregations and churches. She sent me the original charters of the Presbyterian Church in Greenport, and anything she found on Mr. Cleaves.

12. The village of Greenport.

13. Eileen Wingate: Building Inspector, village of Greenport. If there is one person who helped me continuously, it was Eileen. She allowed me access to her SPLIA pages, books, her maps, the owner’s names, and historical architecture. It’s just amazing cooperation from a person whose phone never stops ringing. I thank her for caring about the history that pertains to her job, and for going above and beyond the call of duty to discover yet one more piece of information!

14. Lydia’s Antiques shop: For all the beautiful things I have found in that wonderful store, and to Lydia for her incredible talent and creativity in preserving such beautiful stained glass. And to both her and Donna for the hours I can spend in there talking, questioning, and relating parts of my book and tales from beyond!

15. Hugh and Judy, the whole kit and Caboodle: For loving the home for so many years, for all the repairs that you did, for passing along the information, and mostly, for your friendship.

16. Joel Daly and his crew: For helping me to restore and make the home beautiful, and for all their hard and talented work.

17. Dave Kapell, Tom Monsell, Carol Monsell, Jackie Monsell, Ted and Steven Schroeder, Marshall Frost, Gerard Cleaves, Ted Webb, Bob Scott, Edna Quatroche.

18. Joe, my parents, my kids, and the rest of my family who for four years have had to put up with story upon story and tales and recounting of all of the Andrew Happenings.

19. Last but not least, David and his brother Jonas Higbee. Without the help of David Higbee, none of this book would have been possible. Had it not been for Jonas Higbee preserving the photos and history of my house, I never would have had a scrapbook. David was instrumental in opening up his family history to me. Without Andrew J. Wiggins, I never would have met Orange H. Cleaves.

I am so grateful to you all, and anyone else who I may have missed. It was all in the Village!

Introduction

December 13, 2015

What can a house do for someone? Can a house change your life, or lead you on a path into another world and dimension? Why should a world that happened over 150 years ago be so important to me? I wonder. I’ve been asked many times why. Why do I research and research and investigate and imagine and ponder over things that are so far from my realm and reach and present life? I answer by saying that often people search their entire lives to feel as though they are exactly in the place they were meant to be. How would one know? It’s the coincidences. It’s the knowing. It’s the weaving of a present life to a past, to a people, to a different time, but all in the same place.

That’s what it is about my house. My house connects me to others, to things, to another time, and yet it all happens in Greenport. Yes, the Greenport of 2015, and the Greenport of the 1860s.

Strange Happenings

My house, from before I bought it, reeled me in, just as Greenport reeled in its many sea captains, whalers, and fishermen. It enchanted me! The narrow staircases leading to the widow’s walk and attic are reminiscent of the steps found on ships of the day. I saw the beauty waiting to happen in this house. I was enraptured!

It was around 2010. I had been to see a medium—a strange experience for me. There are those who don’t understand sensitive people, and then there are those of us—sensitive who with ninety percent certainty—understand the messages related from beyond. That’s how it was with Lyn. She reads me like a book. She looked for the house (it was a house I had a bid on and was considering purchasing) when she said No, I really can’t find it. Wait a minute. Does it have unique architecture? Yes, it has round windows, right? Wait, how strange! It has two front doors. That’s odd. But, don’t worry. You open the door for me, you invite me in for tea, you wave me in. That means, you will own the home!

So, while I tried to explain away her vision into the wrong blue house I was considering, the double front French doors to be the two front doors, the rounded window above the porch, I couldn’t get too convinced till I saw the For Sale sign a couple of weeks before Christmas, driving down First Street. I pulled over, wow! Another home in Greenport for sale while I’ve been looking for over one