On Washington Avenue, Alex Curbelo knew that the man whose face adorns the dollar bill had given him the day off from school.
From Washington to Lincoln — but not necessarily, as it turns out, Jefferson or Truman — Monday’s holiday was an occasion for New Haveners to reflect on the eponymous heritage of the streets where they live.
To commemorate Presidents’ Day, the Independent set out on a tour of the presidential byways of New Haven to discover what residents of those thoroughfares, from narrow and struggling (Millard) Fillmore to wide and stately (William) McKinley, know of the men behind the street signs.
Let’s Hear it for George
Over on Washington Avenue in the Hill, 17-year-old Alex Curbelo knew that the nation’s first president had given him the day off from his classes over at Adult Ed on nearby Ella Grasso Boulevard.
Curbelo, who grew up in the Bronx and has been a New Havener for only two years, was patronizing the Garcia Market, a freshly painted new and hopeful small business on Washington at Clover, not far from where Curbelo lives. The proprietor of the market agreed with Curbelo’s demonstration that every Washington dollar is going to help in the deeply sluggish economy.
According to that doyenne of New Haven street names, local historian Doris Townshend, George Street, perhaps the colony’s earliest road, is also named for George Washington, not George the Third, as some unpatriotically assert. It was named in 1784 for the founding father, having been previously called Brick Street and then Leather Lane.
McKinley: She Knows the Mountain, Not the Man
Early morning jogger on McKinley Street, Judy Sykes, knew that Mt. McKinley is the highest peak in North America. But Sykes, a junior high teacher in North Haven with ACES, and a 20-year resident on his eponymous block, knew nothing of McKinley the man.
She wasn’t aware that he green-lighted the Spanish-American War. Nor did she know he waved with his broad white handkerchief to his depressed wife Ida every morning on the way to work, thus earning the sobriquet our “Christian president.”
She pleaded mea culpa. Like a good teacher Sykes also said she was going to use her confrontation with McKinley as a teachable moment and would discuss with her students if they knew where their street names came from.
Lincoln and the Mystery of the GPS
Architect Paul Bailey is mildly upset that his GPS calls his Lincoln Street “Lincoln Way.” He’s lived in an historic house, built in 1854, on charming Lincoln Street for 40 years.
“The little alleyway, beyond the old theater to Audubon,” he said, “that small section should be called Lincoln Way. From Bradley to Trumbull is Lincoln Street.”
Why wouldn’t he call up the GPS folks to fix it? “Who do you call?” he responded.
Bailey pointed out that prior to being called Lincoln, his street, which includes several Greek revival beauties moved from other locations, was called Clinton Place. “It was renamed,” he asserted, “after the president was assassinated.”
A quick check of Doris Townshend’s The Streets of New Haven reveals that the renaming actually took place in 1871. Why? Because when Fair Haven formally joined New Haven, at that time, it already had a Clinton Avenue — not Bill of course, but Dewitt the New York governor who, by the way, was the unsuccessful presidential candidate of 1812 . So Bailey’s Clinton became Lincoln in memoriam for the slain leader, but belatedly.
Farnam on Fillmore
Arguably the toughest presidential ID, one might have thought, would be that of the 12th president, Millard Fillmore. His predecessor, President Zachary Taylor, “Ole rough and Ready,” proved not so rough after all, and died within a year of taking office. Fillmore became president in 1850.
However, venerable Farnam Neighborhood House, an historic settlement house, has an executive director, Liz Gambardella, whose U.S. history knowledge is worthy of the heritage of her institution and street.
“Actually,” she confessed, “Fillmore is one of those presidents whose name just stuck in mind. When I was a kid at St. Francis, there was a classmate, Millard Sullivan, and the teacher kept on mispronouncing his name, putting the accent on the ‘lard.’ Somehow that got connected with knowing Millard Fillmore.”
Through mysterious karma, one of the founders of Lowell House, the predecessor to Farnam House, was Henry Walcott Farnam. He was born in 1853, the last year of Millard Fillmore’s presidency.
“Who would have thought we’d end up in this location!” she said.
Down in Farnam’s gymnasium, William Antrum, Quincey Bookert, and Victor Rosario (pictured left to right) knew their Washington and Lincoln. Between b‑ball games, they got curious about this Millard Fillmore. Quincey, a fourth-grader over at the Clinton Avenue School, was going to test his teacher with the question when school resumes tomorrow.
Why Isn’t There a Kennedy Street?
“Well, I don’t know,” said historian Doris Townshend, with her usual refreshing candor. “You would think there would be.”
She pointed out that after JFK’s assassination in 1963 there was a proposal to erect a statue of the slain president on the Green. “My husband,” she said, “as the leader of the Green’s proprietors, turned down the idea. That would have opened the door to so many more statues.”
She suggested there may have been an attempt to name a street after Kennedy who, after all, was close to Mayor Richard Lee. “But you’ll have to do the research in the records of the aldermen.”
No Jefferson?
A block from Fillmore is Monroe, named after the fifth president And there’s a (FD) Roosevelt (32) Street near Foxon Road near the East Haven border. Lincoln’s successor, U.S. Grant (18), has a small street named after him at the end of Kimberly.
Which brings us to Jefferson. According to Townshend, the provenance of the name of that little street between Grand and Lyon is only “probably” named for the third president. The city and town voted against him, with lots of opposition from Federalist Yale College and the Congregational clergy. The Federalist merchants also. intensely disliked the embargo of 1807. So why honor the guy with a street?
If Jefferson Street doesn’t refer to the president, to whom does it refer?
“Do the research, “ says Townshend. “I don’t know everything.”
Her research, however, is unequivocal that Truman Street in the Hill is not named after Harry, the 33rd, but Truman Alling, a large 19th century landowner in the area. Oh, and there’s also a Harding Place, another Townshend “probably,” for disgraced Warren G. Harding, the 29th prez.
Uh, Oh, Bush
Alas, no presidential tour could, with objectivity, end without pointing out the only U.S. president born in Connecticut, and started life in this house at 37 Hillhouse Ave., is George W. Bush.
Townshend recalled that she lived next door, at 35 Hillhouse. Although she did not visit, she recalled a sandbox in the backyard where baby Bush played. “Number 37 was housing for families going to Yale, who had young kids,” she said. “The father, Bush 41, was at Yale, and his kids’ names and the others in the building were on the sandbox. Nicknames.”
She couldn’t remember the future president’s baby name, but said she would work on it.
A section of I‑91 just above the Middletown Avenue exit is, as many have noted, named for the just retired 43rd president. But that at least is not a street of New Haven.