Last summer, while exploring the back roads around Strasburg, I came across a home that seemed to have a mini village erected in its yard. I'd stopped to take a couple of photos but saw no -one to ask the multitude of questions I had. A few weeks later I picked up a local paper and discovered that earlier in the summer this little town had had an open day, so I made a note, intending to keep an ear to the ground for another open day this year, although with COVID, I'd assumed this year would be skipped. I told Elliott about it and was amazed when just a couple of days later Front Royal's online paper announced that Millersville would be open to the public on Saturday. So, of course, we went.
We were going to be early so I decided to show Elliott some of the swinging bridges I'd discovered at the end of last year. We went to the 'lovers' bridge first, where I was delighted to see a lot more padlocks had been added. Elliott and I will be returning to add one of our own; it made me smile to think that the last time I'd been here, that idea would never have crossed my mind, although, admittedly, seeing all so those declarations of adoration had left me a little wistful.
More inscriptions had been carved or written on the planks and Elliott had no idea of the carved message I had arranged to be in the foreground of the shot I took of him, although I did mention that he shouldn't be presumptuous when he saw the photo...Still, I loved the shot, and wondered whether its author's proposal had been accepted.
3 photos that Elliott took of me, bless him. It's such a novelty to be able to include photos of me on my blog, so often I took these trips alone.
Here is one I took of us later in the afternoon, both aiming our cameras at an old mill.
It was nearly opening time at Millersville so we sped back towards Strasburg. I was so excited to see the 'town' close up and meet its creator.
We had barely been there five minutes before Larry yelled out that he was starting a tour. We scurried over to take part. He was wearing a shirt made from chicken feed sacks that I thought was kind of cool, and wondered if hops came in sacks which could be obtained for this purpose. I shall make inquiries.
Millersville was built by Larry over the course of more than ten years to showcase a historic Strasburg throughout the early to mid 20th century. There's a church, an old grocery store, a garage, a log cabin, a bowling alley, a garage, and his latest addition, a barber shop. Everything displayed is vintage, many items donated by family and town residents, and there's a lot of it. Every little building we entered had me twisting my head every which way to ensure I didn't miss anything. Looking up and peeking behind doors needed to be done too, the tiny rooms had stuff tucked into every corner, and every shelf and cupboard was crammed.
Larry began the tour with the log cabin. A small crowd followed him, and around every corner, he'd turn, look over his shoulder, and with a beaming smile yell out, "C'mon, kids!" Not one of us kids was under 40 years old, but we followed regardless, eager to see his creations. The log cabin was cozy, too cozy for me to successfully take photos without people obstructing the shots, so I gave up. He'd point out each item quickly, so I ended up just listening, trying to take in all the trivia: a 12 pt elk that he'd shot, loomed into the room from over the fireplace, coins and medals he'd lacquered onto the dining room table, an old photo of three famous cowboys, the name of just one that I remembered, because there was a pair of his guns also hanging from the bed post, Gene Autry. He pointed out old chamberpots, a husky racing sled from Alaska, paintings and tools, my head was spinning. And then before I really got stock of everything he sprinted for the door, and we were leaving to move onto the next building.
Larry pointed out an old bicycle that his friend had used as a child, insisting that she pose by it while he took a photo. He picked up many more pieces, describing their use or where he obtained it, and I had to desist from taking notes, or I'd be constantly looking down rather than watching him. So most of what's written here is from memory, with only a few hasty lines entered on my phone, many of which were undecipherable later when I went back to them. I'm not a good note taker, evidently. We followed him from building to building, friends and relatives stopping to greet and hug him, some passing more vintage relics for his collection, or simply telling him where they'd come from and when they'd catch up with him. This guy is popular! He led us into the bowling alley, pointing out old phones, a Sears catalog bicycle and a sheep shearer that connected to four shearers while one other turned a handle to supply power to the others. He tapped a wooden wall hanging that he had carved, showing a moon backdrop and stairs to heaven, pairs of old ice skates, hundreds of tools, and then before I knew it, we were in the old grocery store, where he stood behind the counter, and proceeded to reel off details while picking up objects for us to see. There was a huge Sears catalog from the 40's that could be signed for, taken from the store by customers and then returned with an order. One item that intrigued me was the gas operated iron, I'd never heard of or seen one before. I found some information about them here. A 1902 polished Pontiac sat outside, still in running condition, next to a gas pump declaring 27c a gallon.
And then we went to church. Elliott was filming a lot of the tour, which I was astounded at. That's a lot of post processing to do, something I don't have the inclination for, or the time to spare, but he's pretty damn efficient and produces stunning results, so I'll just have to wait patiently for the video. Everyone that could sit on one of the pews carved by Larry himself, did, including us, and I awaited our sermon. Naturally he began by pointing out memorabilia around the room, a 48 star US flag, a 1912 Methodist table and I was amazed to be told, and shown, how the pews he'd made also folded down to double up as desks when the church would be used as a school house. He then pointed at a picture of Jesus, and I thought, 'Here we go!' Sure enough, he mentioned Revelation 3:20 and told us that since the end was nigh, he was going to talk about how Jesus was going to return. He was so confident and convincing that I almost looked around at the door to see if in fact Jesus was dropping by. He then went on to explain that this place was a ministry and not just a church. I later found out that Larry was a retired pastor, and looking around the room, I noticed most folks seemed to be taking his speech with a pinch of salt, although evidently enjoying it. I suspected many had sat here before for his sermons, and one even whispered in a joking manner that he'd be passing round the plate in a minute or two. I thought it was great, American preaching firsthand, with hand flourishes and smiles, not like the stuffy sermons I've sat through in England.
Larry didn't overdo the sermon, this was the end of the tour, and he left to begin another one almost immediately. Elliott and I walked out into the sunshine and began walking around slowly to take photos of interesting things we'd missed or passed by quickly earlier.
Larry in his barber shop, the latest addition to the village, photo by Rich Cooley from Northern Virginia Daily paper.
One of Larry's friends took this photo of me in the outhouse, the wallpaper comprising of 1959 Sears catalog pages, and even a pile of corn husks. I really couldn't imagine ever having to use those things, why not leaves? So much softer. Either that or I'd be ripping that wallpaper from the walls... Larry joined us again here and told an appropriate joke. I'm sure it was an old one, but I'd not heard it before, and loved it.
A farmer walks up to an outhouse and finds a man fishing around in the hole with a long stick. The farmer asks what he is doing and the man replies, "I dropped my jacket down in there and I'm trying to get it back."
The first man says, " Are you crazy? Are you really gonna wear the jacket after it's been down there?"
The second man says, "Oh, no way! But there's a biscuit in one of the pockets."
Elliott and I wandered around snapping shots with our cameras, and after a while I lost him. Boo. So I peered into all of the buildings again and poked about behind them looking for anything that I might have missed. The sun was casting interesting shadows on many of the rustic displays and I soon got engrossed in taking photos, people watching, and just simply enjoying the sunshine, music, and aura of happiness that seemed to spread throughout this little town.
We left with more people still pouring in. I was so pleased we'd come, loving old fashioned Americana as I do. This little Millersville town is incredible and so was Larry and his family and friends. The whole afternoon had been like a treasure hunt with a sea of happy faces everywhere we went. I kind of wanted to stay.
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