Headed to Lizzie's !!!
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- theebmonique
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- theebmonique
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- FairhavenGuy
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Fairhaven is a great town to live in, if I do say so myself. The value of the Brownell house is hard to figure, because it's in disrepair, it's just outside of the "pricey" part of the center and it's on a block with some multi-family houses. In very good repair and a block further south, probably in the $350,000 range. In its location and with new front steps thrown on, wild guess would be around $225,000. But it's so hard to tell right now. There are a few houses in that general vicinity that are larger and well taken care of that have asking prices of $495,000 to $549,000.
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thanks for the pix Tracy! The price of homes is
obscence, how can a young couple buy a home?
My son and D in law were over tonight, they helped
move their friends in new home all day. Tristy said it was a dump, needed so much work, yet their friends paid 300,000 for it. very disheartening.
My son and Tristy are only pre-qualified for $250,000, and they both have great jobs! I might bite the bullet and suggest they move back to Vermont to raise their family!
obscence, how can a young couple buy a home?
My son and D in law were over tonight, they helped
move their friends in new home all day. Tristy said it was a dump, needed so much work, yet their friends paid 300,000 for it. very disheartening.
My son and Tristy are only pre-qualified for $250,000, and they both have great jobs! I might bite the bullet and suggest they move back to Vermont to raise their family!
- FairhavenGuy
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As far as home prices in Fairhaven go, we've been low for a long time, considering we're on the shore of Buzzard's Bay and can see Cape Cod from some of the eastern shores in town. About ten years ago $250,000 would get you a solid, authentic ca. 1770 colonial with seven fireplaces, located across the street from the harbor in a very "Nantucket" part of town. That would go for about $400,000 now.
Still $250,000 can get you a nicely maintained three-bedroom cottage in many parts of town, though the prices are creeping up. We bought our ca. 1929, two-bedroom home on Main Street across the street from a church for $115,000 five and a half years ago. We had it reappraised last summer and it was valued at $184,000.
Still $250,000 can get you a nicely maintained three-bedroom cottage in many parts of town, though the prices are creeping up. We bought our ca. 1929, two-bedroom home on Main Street across the street from a church for $115,000 five and a half years ago. We had it reappraised last summer and it was valued at $184,000.
- theebmonique
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- Mark A.
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Tracy, excellent pics! Very well taken & clear. I love the one of you sitting in the courtroom. I had jury duty in that courtroom once. I was estatic while everyone else was grumbling about being there. The one of you sprawled out in back of Lizbeth's headstone was cool. That would have been something to come across you laying on Lizzies grave on a sunny spring afternoon. believe it or not, I have seen stranger things in Fall River.
Please post all trhe pics you can. I enjoyed them. I live here in Fall River yet I was still looking foward to more pics. Keep them coming & i'm glad you enjoyed your stay here.
Please post all trhe pics you can. I enjoyed them. I live here in Fall River yet I was still looking foward to more pics. Keep them coming & i'm glad you enjoyed your stay here.
Mark A.
- theebmonique
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Yeah. Unfortunately, there are probably a couple hundred houses that look similar to that one in Fairhaven. Unless there's a street address, I can't tell much about it.
It could be another house on Green Street that Capt. Delano moved into after the death of his wife. The only other thing I can think of is that it may be the house where Emma stayed for a couple of days during the trial. That was on Union Street, but I forget the modern street number. Again, if Tracy or Mr. Rebello has the modern street number, I could tell you more.
The only other cool Lizzie connection here that I know of is that Eli Bence is buried here in River-Side Cemetery. His second wife was Annie Maxfield of Fairhaven and he's in the Maxfield family's plot.
It could be another house on Green Street that Capt. Delano moved into after the death of his wife. The only other thing I can think of is that it may be the house where Emma stayed for a couple of days during the trial. That was on Union Street, but I forget the modern street number. Again, if Tracy or Mr. Rebello has the modern street number, I could tell you more.
The only other cool Lizzie connection here that I know of is that Eli Bence is buried here in River-Side Cemetery. His second wife was Annie Maxfield of Fairhaven and he's in the Maxfield family's plot.
- theebmonique
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- theebmonique
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I decided to revive this thread...for sport...and because of all of the folks "Headed to Lizzie's" this next week. I am sure Stefani's presentation will be wonderful. I look forward to hearing full reports...maybe even something in the next HATCHET ?
Be safe, but have fun too !!!!
Tracy...
Be safe, but have fun too !!!!
Tracy...
I'm defying gravity and you can't pull me down.
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Have spent almost a whole hour reading back threads and posts.
Theebmonique: wren't you going to Fall River with "Audrey"?? She's not posting so maybe she's there.
I asekd before "what presentation"? Can anyone tell me? Is it the Fall River Lecture Series?
My cousin (who lives in Fall River) emailed me that some t.v. documentary to be aired on ABC is going to be filmed at the B&B starting this Saturday.
Any more info from anyone? That's all he knew, except it had to do with ghosts.
Theebmonique: wren't you going to Fall River with "Audrey"?? She's not posting so maybe she's there.
I asekd before "what presentation"? Can anyone tell me? Is it the Fall River Lecture Series?
My cousin (who lives in Fall River) emailed me that some t.v. documentary to be aired on ABC is going to be filmed at the B&B starting this Saturday.
Any more info from anyone? That's all he knew, except it had to do with ghosts.
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Finally!
My report on my stay on September 3, 2005:
(Sorry for the delay, but I was afraid that I (i) had included (a) too much about some things and (b) not enough about others, (ii) may have been a tad pretentious at times and (iii) hadn’t organized my thoughts very well.) Well, enough is enough. Here it is, remaining warts and all (besides, I can still edit it afterwards if I care enough):
I enjoyed it far more than I imagined I would--and I imagined I would!
I took the train from New York to Providence, where I got the bus to Fall River. I afterwards found out that I could have saved a bundle by taking the bus directly from New York. Fortunately, I had only bought a one-way ticket, so I took the bus all the way back.
My map showed “Fall River Station” as being some distance away from the house (somewhere northwest of Maplecroft), so I thought I had a good walk ahead of me when the bus stopped. I asked the driver which way the Borden house was. He pointed behind me and there it was!
It is quite a handsome house of classic simplicity. I’m glad I came after the press was demolished. I find the present dark green color quite becoming too. I have since read about the plans to paint the house the original “mustard” color. I hope that “mustard” means “mustard greens.”
I was greeted at the door by a middle-aged woman with short red hair. I asked if she was Lee-Ann. It was Eleanor, who works there evenings. I asked her if I could call her Maggie. “Anything but,” she said. I told her I was sure I was not the first to pull that gag, which she confirmed. I used it on her husband Ed the next day too.
I was already familiar with the layout of the house from floor plans and photographs in the books I read, but found it subtly different from the way I had imagined it, especially in the proportions. I had imagined the rooms as being longer and narrower and the ceilings lower. (I should have remembered that Victorian ceilings were high.) I found the atmosphere at once charming and a trifle spooky, which surprised me, as I am a devout skeptic. (It occurred to me afterwards that I had had the same reaction in other houses of that period, even if nobody had been murdered in them (as far as I knew).) By and large, though, I found the smells and the old-fashioned furnishings and decor (far more elegant than I had imagined) quite soothing. I have a pet theory that the increasing scarcity of such things has a lot to do with the alleged increase in the incidence of depression. But then, of course, people are quite capable of being depressed even in such surroundings, as Lizzie was. And of course, I didn’t have Andrew and Abby around to oppress my spirits.
Eleanor gave me a map of (mostly) “Lizzie” sites in Fall River. I asked if all these might be within walking distance. At first, she said no, but then said it depended on one’s personal standards. I was able to visit them all (aside from Heritage Park, the only non-Lizzie site), have dinner at the Abbey and come back in time for the tour at eight-thirty.
I noticed the large number of handsome period houses, all of which I wished I could visit. I noticed a handsome building that proved to be the Historical Society, which it was too late to visit. I walked up to Maplecroft, which I found smaller than I expected. Though certainly a good-sized house, it is hardly the mansion it has been described as. I had expected far more extensive grounds and a surrounding wall or fence isolating the house from the street and neighboring houses. All this would have been in keeping with Lizzie’s reclusive nature (enforced, of course). Ivy partially covered the name of the house on the front steps, as well as the windows to the left. I had the feeling the house was only tolerably well kept. I afterwards found out from the nice man who owns the gift shop near the Historical Society that the owner had once opened Maplecroft as a B&B, but decided that it was too much work.
I remember musing during my walk about whether I was (i) wasting time and money on something inconsequential, (ii) glorifying a murderess and (iii) intruding. I defended myself to myself by observing that (i) I was not spending inordinate amounts of time or money obsessing about the case, (ii) my interest did not imply approval of Lizzie (or whomever) or complicity in an act that took place long before I was born and (iii) had certainly long been “public domain.”
(It seems strange to think that I have been alive for more than half the time since the murders. Bridget Sullivan was alive when I was born and no doubt there are people now living who knew people involved in the case.)
I walked to Oak Grove Cemetery, where arrows in the pavement marked the way to the Borden plot. I do not believe in an afterlife, though I would like to, but I imagined that I could sense Lizzie’s presence and that she was not happy about my own.
On the way back, I dined at the Abbey (once the Congregational church attended by Lizzie!) on a potato pizza with onions, bacon and sour cream.
I got back with time to spare for the tour, meeting Lee-ann, with whom I had spoken on the phone about a month previously, and some of my fellow inmates.
Not including Eleanor and Lee-ann, there were thirteen people present for the tour, including two who had been late for the last day tour.
Eleanor told us about how she had originally been comparatively uninterested in the case and been given a prepared script for her talk, but had gradually become fascinated with it. She told us which elements of the house were original and which replacements and corrected some of the myths about the case, such as that the murders had taken place on the hottest day of the year.
She and Lee-ann told us several stories about manifestations. Eleanor told us that though for a long time she had not experienced any, she did once see what looked like smoke coming from the kitchen door into the sitting room though there was no fire. Lee-ann said that a window on the second floor once mysteriously moved up and down repeatedly. (Both these incidents were reenacted in one of the videotapes available for viewing in the parlor.) Lee-ann also told of a ghostly cat that had been heard mewing in various parts of the house, which she furnished with various cat toys, some of which serve as doorstops.
We heard about how the skulls had finally been buried, though not as deeply as the bodies. (They are in boxes about two feet deep.) Eleanor said that an expert who wanted to examine them received death threats.
When we went into the sitting room, I assumed the position on the couch and was photographed by one of the other guests.
Watched several tapes and DVDs afterwards with other guests. The best one was of an examination by two modern forensics experts of parts of the house and various items connected with the case. This seemed to confirm that the handleless hatchet was the murder weapon and that the murderer had washed up in the basement. The chief flaw was that in the reenactments, Bridget kept insisting to Mr. and Mrs. Borden that they call her Bridget instead of Maggie. (Lizzie and Emma were the ones who called her Maggie, which she insisted did not bother her.) It rather puzzled me that, though several of these films included children chanting the Lizzie Borden quatrain, none of them used the tune of “Ta-Ra-Ra-Boom-De-Ay,” which is certainly long in the public domain.
I went up to my room (the John Vinnicum Morse room), the door of which was propped open with one of the cat doorstops. I closed the door and was startled by a rattling noise. I quickly discovered that I had set the lid of a small ceramic box in motion. (I found out the next morning that this happened pretty regularly.) While undressing, I warned any ghosts who might be present that I would be getting naked and was a distinctly unprepossessing article. This seems to have prevented any manifestations. (I was quite amused to read later that I was not the only one self-conscious about this.)
I afterwards got up briefly and went to the parlor (sufficiently dressed), where another guest was watching The Legend of Lizzie Borden. Eleanor had told us of an inaccuracy in the film—it had Lizzie discover her father in the act of embalming a corpse, a technique that had not yet been invented. I found that I could easily tell where the dialogue was authentic and where it was invented. I am sorry to say that the invented stuff invariably rang false. I hate to say it, but what I saw of the film pretty well killed my interest in it.
Early in the morning, I thought I heard the mewing of a cat, but soon realized it was the cries of gulls outside. Could this be the explanation for the ghostly cat?
Ed knocked on the door at 7:30, as I had arranged. I was already up. Ed is a grey-haired man with a ring beard like that of Andrew Borden. I asked if he copied it from him, which he said he did, as he takes the part in the reenactments that take place on the anniversary of the crime and on Halloween. (These are the times it is most difficult to get a room. However, you can attend these reenactments even if not staying at the house and without reserving.)
Breakfast, prepared by Ed, consisted of orange juice, coffee or tea, a delicious fruit salad, eggs, sausages, Irish soda bread and, of course, Johnny cakes. I found these rather bland. Butter and maple syrup certainly helped, but give me buttermilk pancakes any day.
I went out to do some sightseeing. First, I went down to the shore where I found the Marine Museum closed despite the fact that it ought to have been open according to the schedule on the door. Perhaps it was because it was Labor Day weekend. I did see the Old Colony and Fall River Railroad Museum, the Heritage Park and the USS Massachusetts Memorial, which I found rather pricy at fourteen dollars, but well worth it. Several ships are on display, of which the title ship is by far the most impressive. I found the interiors rather claustrophobia-inducing, though, especially a couple of galleries full of shells (presumably deactivated), which gave me far more shivers than the house did.
I walked on to the Abbey, where I had a buffet lunch before walking on to the Historical Society, which, to my disappointment, was closed, again despite being scheduled to be open. I walked around to the back and had a chat with the owner of the Gift Shop and then took another look at Maplecroft and the graves. I was tempted to stay another night, but decided against it. I certainly intend to come back, though.
(By the way, if there are any ghosts there, why do they have to be the Bordens? Maybe the McGinns aren’t happy to have their house visited by strangers. And what about the people who lived there before the Bordens?)
My report on my stay on September 3, 2005:
(Sorry for the delay, but I was afraid that I (i) had included (a) too much about some things and (b) not enough about others, (ii) may have been a tad pretentious at times and (iii) hadn’t organized my thoughts very well.) Well, enough is enough. Here it is, remaining warts and all (besides, I can still edit it afterwards if I care enough):
I enjoyed it far more than I imagined I would--and I imagined I would!
I took the train from New York to Providence, where I got the bus to Fall River. I afterwards found out that I could have saved a bundle by taking the bus directly from New York. Fortunately, I had only bought a one-way ticket, so I took the bus all the way back.
My map showed “Fall River Station” as being some distance away from the house (somewhere northwest of Maplecroft), so I thought I had a good walk ahead of me when the bus stopped. I asked the driver which way the Borden house was. He pointed behind me and there it was!
It is quite a handsome house of classic simplicity. I’m glad I came after the press was demolished. I find the present dark green color quite becoming too. I have since read about the plans to paint the house the original “mustard” color. I hope that “mustard” means “mustard greens.”
I was greeted at the door by a middle-aged woman with short red hair. I asked if she was Lee-Ann. It was Eleanor, who works there evenings. I asked her if I could call her Maggie. “Anything but,” she said. I told her I was sure I was not the first to pull that gag, which she confirmed. I used it on her husband Ed the next day too.
I was already familiar with the layout of the house from floor plans and photographs in the books I read, but found it subtly different from the way I had imagined it, especially in the proportions. I had imagined the rooms as being longer and narrower and the ceilings lower. (I should have remembered that Victorian ceilings were high.) I found the atmosphere at once charming and a trifle spooky, which surprised me, as I am a devout skeptic. (It occurred to me afterwards that I had had the same reaction in other houses of that period, even if nobody had been murdered in them (as far as I knew).) By and large, though, I found the smells and the old-fashioned furnishings and decor (far more elegant than I had imagined) quite soothing. I have a pet theory that the increasing scarcity of such things has a lot to do with the alleged increase in the incidence of depression. But then, of course, people are quite capable of being depressed even in such surroundings, as Lizzie was. And of course, I didn’t have Andrew and Abby around to oppress my spirits.
Eleanor gave me a map of (mostly) “Lizzie” sites in Fall River. I asked if all these might be within walking distance. At first, she said no, but then said it depended on one’s personal standards. I was able to visit them all (aside from Heritage Park, the only non-Lizzie site), have dinner at the Abbey and come back in time for the tour at eight-thirty.
I noticed the large number of handsome period houses, all of which I wished I could visit. I noticed a handsome building that proved to be the Historical Society, which it was too late to visit. I walked up to Maplecroft, which I found smaller than I expected. Though certainly a good-sized house, it is hardly the mansion it has been described as. I had expected far more extensive grounds and a surrounding wall or fence isolating the house from the street and neighboring houses. All this would have been in keeping with Lizzie’s reclusive nature (enforced, of course). Ivy partially covered the name of the house on the front steps, as well as the windows to the left. I had the feeling the house was only tolerably well kept. I afterwards found out from the nice man who owns the gift shop near the Historical Society that the owner had once opened Maplecroft as a B&B, but decided that it was too much work.
I remember musing during my walk about whether I was (i) wasting time and money on something inconsequential, (ii) glorifying a murderess and (iii) intruding. I defended myself to myself by observing that (i) I was not spending inordinate amounts of time or money obsessing about the case, (ii) my interest did not imply approval of Lizzie (or whomever) or complicity in an act that took place long before I was born and (iii) had certainly long been “public domain.”
(It seems strange to think that I have been alive for more than half the time since the murders. Bridget Sullivan was alive when I was born and no doubt there are people now living who knew people involved in the case.)
I walked to Oak Grove Cemetery, where arrows in the pavement marked the way to the Borden plot. I do not believe in an afterlife, though I would like to, but I imagined that I could sense Lizzie’s presence and that she was not happy about my own.
On the way back, I dined at the Abbey (once the Congregational church attended by Lizzie!) on a potato pizza with onions, bacon and sour cream.
I got back with time to spare for the tour, meeting Lee-ann, with whom I had spoken on the phone about a month previously, and some of my fellow inmates.
Not including Eleanor and Lee-ann, there were thirteen people present for the tour, including two who had been late for the last day tour.
Eleanor told us about how she had originally been comparatively uninterested in the case and been given a prepared script for her talk, but had gradually become fascinated with it. She told us which elements of the house were original and which replacements and corrected some of the myths about the case, such as that the murders had taken place on the hottest day of the year.
She and Lee-ann told us several stories about manifestations. Eleanor told us that though for a long time she had not experienced any, she did once see what looked like smoke coming from the kitchen door into the sitting room though there was no fire. Lee-ann said that a window on the second floor once mysteriously moved up and down repeatedly. (Both these incidents were reenacted in one of the videotapes available for viewing in the parlor.) Lee-ann also told of a ghostly cat that had been heard mewing in various parts of the house, which she furnished with various cat toys, some of which serve as doorstops.
We heard about how the skulls had finally been buried, though not as deeply as the bodies. (They are in boxes about two feet deep.) Eleanor said that an expert who wanted to examine them received death threats.
When we went into the sitting room, I assumed the position on the couch and was photographed by one of the other guests.
Watched several tapes and DVDs afterwards with other guests. The best one was of an examination by two modern forensics experts of parts of the house and various items connected with the case. This seemed to confirm that the handleless hatchet was the murder weapon and that the murderer had washed up in the basement. The chief flaw was that in the reenactments, Bridget kept insisting to Mr. and Mrs. Borden that they call her Bridget instead of Maggie. (Lizzie and Emma were the ones who called her Maggie, which she insisted did not bother her.) It rather puzzled me that, though several of these films included children chanting the Lizzie Borden quatrain, none of them used the tune of “Ta-Ra-Ra-Boom-De-Ay,” which is certainly long in the public domain.
I went up to my room (the John Vinnicum Morse room), the door of which was propped open with one of the cat doorstops. I closed the door and was startled by a rattling noise. I quickly discovered that I had set the lid of a small ceramic box in motion. (I found out the next morning that this happened pretty regularly.) While undressing, I warned any ghosts who might be present that I would be getting naked and was a distinctly unprepossessing article. This seems to have prevented any manifestations. (I was quite amused to read later that I was not the only one self-conscious about this.)
I afterwards got up briefly and went to the parlor (sufficiently dressed), where another guest was watching The Legend of Lizzie Borden. Eleanor had told us of an inaccuracy in the film—it had Lizzie discover her father in the act of embalming a corpse, a technique that had not yet been invented. I found that I could easily tell where the dialogue was authentic and where it was invented. I am sorry to say that the invented stuff invariably rang false. I hate to say it, but what I saw of the film pretty well killed my interest in it.
Early in the morning, I thought I heard the mewing of a cat, but soon realized it was the cries of gulls outside. Could this be the explanation for the ghostly cat?
Ed knocked on the door at 7:30, as I had arranged. I was already up. Ed is a grey-haired man with a ring beard like that of Andrew Borden. I asked if he copied it from him, which he said he did, as he takes the part in the reenactments that take place on the anniversary of the crime and on Halloween. (These are the times it is most difficult to get a room. However, you can attend these reenactments even if not staying at the house and without reserving.)
Breakfast, prepared by Ed, consisted of orange juice, coffee or tea, a delicious fruit salad, eggs, sausages, Irish soda bread and, of course, Johnny cakes. I found these rather bland. Butter and maple syrup certainly helped, but give me buttermilk pancakes any day.
I went out to do some sightseeing. First, I went down to the shore where I found the Marine Museum closed despite the fact that it ought to have been open according to the schedule on the door. Perhaps it was because it was Labor Day weekend. I did see the Old Colony and Fall River Railroad Museum, the Heritage Park and the USS Massachusetts Memorial, which I found rather pricy at fourteen dollars, but well worth it. Several ships are on display, of which the title ship is by far the most impressive. I found the interiors rather claustrophobia-inducing, though, especially a couple of galleries full of shells (presumably deactivated), which gave me far more shivers than the house did.
I walked on to the Abbey, where I had a buffet lunch before walking on to the Historical Society, which, to my disappointment, was closed, again despite being scheduled to be open. I walked around to the back and had a chat with the owner of the Gift Shop and then took another look at Maplecroft and the graves. I was tempted to stay another night, but decided against it. I certainly intend to come back, though.
(By the way, if there are any ghosts there, why do they have to be the Bordens? Maybe the McGinns aren’t happy to have their house visited by strangers. And what about the people who lived there before the Bordens?)
- theebmonique
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Constantine, thank you for the most interesting story of your visit to the house and Fall River. Looks like you saw all the key sites (with the exception of the Historical Society) and used your time there wisely.
Like you, I found the house different from what I expected. Emma's room was cramped but with that exception the others were more than adequate. Certainly not as small and cramped as some authors would have us believe.
Again, thanks for the summary, it was well written.
Like you, I found the house different from what I expected. Emma's room was cramped but with that exception the others were more than adequate. Certainly not as small and cramped as some authors would have us believe.
Again, thanks for the summary, it was well written.
I know I ask perfection of a quite imperfect world
And fool enough to think that's what I'll find
And fool enough to think that's what I'll find
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If you are ever looking for something you recall posting, try clicking on your profile and look at the upper right side under where it says "Total Posts."Constantine @ Mon Feb 27, 2006 7:25 pm wrote:Re: sitting room sofa
Actually, now that I think of it, the sitting room was smaller than I thought, and the kitchen, larger.
(Thought I'd already posted a previous incarnation of this, but I couldn't find it.)
Under that - in light blue- it says "Find All Posts by Constantine" and glows like a link, which it is.
Click there and you can scroll thru your own posts and hopefully find yourself.

search.php?search_author=Constantine
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Oh I can't believe I found this thread. My best friend and I are spending next Friday night in Lizzie's room and I am just in awe that I am able to get all this wonderful stuff from this board. I was really hoping to find all I could about what it's like to stay in the house but I never dreamed I would come upon this treasure trove. You all have helped me prepare for an adventure I've always wanted to have. Thanks a million.
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thanks SO very very much! We have a few hours before the overnighters' tour so I hope to get to the cemetery and Maplecroft for sure---I have to be on a plane by 10:30 a.m. (I had NO idea we were going to spend the night at Lizzie's until just a few days ago and I had had my itinerary booked weeks ago or I would have made SURE we had a couple of days to investigate...) Saturday but I have a sneaking suspicion this won't be my only trip to Fall River---
my best friend is from Haverhill and I see Haverhill makes the archives as prosecutor Moody was a native?
This thread has primed me for my visit---I canNOT wait.
my best friend is from Haverhill and I see Haverhill makes the archives as prosecutor Moody was a native?
This thread has primed me for my visit---I canNOT wait.
- Mara
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Reviving an awesome thread: Headed to Lizzie's !!! -
I found this thread while looking for the one mentioned by Curryong earlier today in the "All About Abby" thread (which always makes me think of Bette Davis growling, "Fasten your seat belts, it's going to be a bumpy night"). ;)
Don't miss the fabulous photos, descriptions of the house by a forum member named Robert Harry who appears to be still a member (come back!) and especially the surprising description of the Borden house by a contemporary female reporter.
Now, back to looking for Curryong's referenced thread.
Don't miss the fabulous photos, descriptions of the house by a forum member named Robert Harry who appears to be still a member (come back!) and especially the surprising description of the Borden house by a contemporary female reporter.
Now, back to looking for Curryong's referenced thread.
- debbiediablo
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Re:
What gives me food for thought is that the Borden family from the outside looking in may have been far different from the Borden family on the inside looking out. Every family has skeletons in its closet but throwing three children into a cistern and then committing suicide is a pretty big thing. Makes me wonder about the male-female dynamics in Andrew's home.Kat wrote:"The Mrs. Borden who threw her three children into the cistern of the house south of Mr. Borden's residence is in no way related to any of the deceased. Thus no claim of insanity can be drawn from that quarter." --pg. 58, Lizzie Borden: A Case Book of Family and crime in the 1890's.
Edited by Joyce G. Williams, J. Eric Smithburn, M. Jeanne Peterson. T.I.S. Publications, 1980.
This refers to a Borden wife which makes her not related to Lizzie.
DebbieDiablo
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(¸.·´ (¸.·'* Even Paranoids Have Enemies
"Everything you want is on the other side of fear."