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Stories written by George T. Comeau

True Tales from Canton’s Past: Cooking With Gas

A group of men from the Canton Board of Trade at an outing in 1916 (Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

The trustees of the Canton Public Library are in the midst of developing a strategic plan that will help shape services and support for a changing community. Just how much we have stayed the same is apparent by the vision statements that have been developed by the various citizens that are guiding the process. The […]

True Tales from Canton’s Past: The Tragic Trio

The wreckage of the Piper Cherokee as it was found that night near the Canton/Stoughton line (Collection of the Canton Historical Society)

The weather in the Bahamas is quite beautiful this time of year, and for the members of the Skycombers Flying Club it would be a perfect way to spend a weekend away after a tough New England winter. In the early 1970s, amateur aviation had become well within the reach of many, and flying clubs […]

True Tales from Canton’s Past: Dividing Lines

We have this strange attraction to thinking that this is our land. We place fences and markers and boundaries upon our property. We feel aggrieved when a neighbor walks across our land. We feel that it is right to stop others from incursion, only after we ourselves have incurred. And through the ages there is […]

True Tales from Canton’s Past: Keep Your Powder Dry

An engraved sketch of the original powder house that was built in 1809

On Pequitside Farm there is a wonderful hidden historic site that is worthy of note. Drive past the main house and follow the road until you get to the very rear of the property. As you walk past the community gardens, take a sharp turn to the right and start walking until you reach a […]

True Tales from Canton’s Past: A Noble Example

As a boy, Armand Didot looked out of his small home in the far northern French city of Dunkirk less than 10 miles from the newly created border between Belgium. Dunkirk was part of the French Flemish north and Catholicism was the religion of the region. Didot was part of a long line of aristocratic […]

True Tales from Canton’s Past: Hospital on a Hill

The Marcus Clark House on High Street was also the Canton Hospital from 1916 to 1921. (Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

There is no doubt that great fanfare accompanied the crowd that showed up for the opening of the Canton Hospital on that cold day in December 1916. It was, like all things, a labor of love that took over 16 years of vision and planning to come to fruition. And there is no doubt that […]

True Tales from Canton’s Past: Spur Line

Canton Center rail crossing with Canton Station (left), now the MBTA parking lot in Canton Center (Courtesy of the Canton Historical Society)

Perhaps the greatest joy of living in Canton is that it still sits with one foot in the past and one foot firmly in the now. There are anachronistic reminders of yesteryear if you know where to look. As you pass over the railroad tracks at Canton Center, heading north towards Memorial Hall, take a […]

True Tales from Canton’s Past: Coasting Back in Time

Mildred Morse Allen’s sled, which was purchased from Jordan Marsh Co. circa 1910 (In the collection of the Canton Historical Society)

The boys had done this exercise countless times. The weather was perfect and the early December freeze made for excellent conditions. Two old sleds were taken from the Aldrich barn in Ponkapoag. The metal skids had been repaired by the blacksmith and he didn’t charge a penny for work that cost him $4. The boys […]

True Tales: Lost Cursive

Forty-five years ago I boarded a bus on Walpole Street and was dropped off at the Revere School on Chapman Street. The memory of that day burns vividly. I can recall the smell of crayons and paste, floor wax and ammonia, fresh air and sunlight flooding the room. We were a large class, by today’s […]

True Tales from Canton’s Past: Naming Rights

Chief Fitzpatrick gazes at the names of the retired firemen that served under his command.

There was a moment this past Saturday, a quiet time at the end of the event, where Jim Fitzpatrick went over to the newly dedicated Fireman’s Memorial and just sat on the granite bench and paused. Everyone had left and the small park was deserted. Hardly anyone noticed as the venerable Chief looked over the […]

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