FFH Streets Will Be Named With A Nod To History

By Kendra Bobowick

Fairfield Hills Authority members immediately and unanimously agreed with Amy Dent’s suggestions on April 15 about how to rename the streets within the former state hospital campus.

As Ms Dent considered recently what names to use, she sought town historian Dan Cruson’s advice.

“We went over the map of a 1929 survey of Fairfield Hills — and he suggested and I agreed — that it would make the most sense to give [recognition] to people with homesteads up there,” she said.

Well before the circa 1930 state hospital’s brick buildings and roadways carved their own community into the sprawling hills and fields on either side of what is now Wasserman Way, and long before Garner Correctional Institution settled into the landscape, a quieter life had existed.

People farmed the fields.

In an e-mail she sent to authority members, Ms Dent explained, “Name suggestions [are] based upon which farms had either long history at Fairfield Hills or were actual homes/farms on the property at the time of the 1929 survey.” Offering one specification that surprised her, she wrote, “The survey actually details each building that existed at the time — even a corncrib!” 

Current names that often match the buildings such as Cochran Avenue or Fairfield Circle, for example, will change. During the April 15 authority meeting Ms Dent quickly explained the proposed new names she found with Mr Cruson’s help.

As also stated in her e-mail to fellow members, she specified changes. Trades Lane on the campus [not Reed Intermediate School] side of Wasserman Way will take the name D.G. Beers Boulevard. Although Beers is an old and familiar name in town, Ms Dent clarified, “He was a very important town figure.” Mr Beers was a nationally known cartographer and inventor. He invented the convertible buggy top, served as first selectman and as a state representative. Despite his accomplishments, Ms Dent indicated: “He has nothing in town named after him.” Between 1880 and 1929 his lands were sold to Irving S. Jones, but, Mr Cruson admits, “I was insistent” that Mr Beers’ name should be used.

The former resident was among the mapmakers in the mid- to late 1800s that were responsible for the county and town maps in the East Coast. “Some of the earliest maps for most of these communities, come from these mapmakers, Mr Cruson explained.

Second Avenue within the campus will become Primrose Street after William Primrose, who owned farmland along the Mile Hill South area. Fairfield Circle South will have the new name, Simpson Street, named for Carrie Simpson, who owned a house in the West Meadow area near Reed Intermediate School. Keating Farms Avenue, named after the Keating brothers, will replace Cochran Avenue, which turns to Old Mile Hill Road on one end with a cul-de-sac where hikers leave their cars. John and Michael Keating owned adjacent farmland, and also represented some of Newtown’s Irish population.

Where did the historian come up with the idea to use former landowners’ names? “Was is sudden inspiration? That’s a difficult question to answer,” Mr Cruson said. “It dawned on me that all the people were required to give up their houses for the hospital, so why shouldn’t they be commemorated?” The state had paid a fair wage, he said. Mr Cruson later learned that authority chairman Robert Geckle also had the same idea.

The authority members hope for a fresh start.

As developers prepare to renovate space for private business and as renovations to the land and other buildings reshape the campus for public use since the town purchased the property back from the state in 2001, authority members agreed earlier this month that they wished to “lose the association with the old hospital.” Renaming the streets is part of that plan. In fact, Mr Cruson said this week, “They’re trying to make a separate distinct identity from what’s there now and the future identity.” The authority “wants to start anew,” he said.

Why is Fairfield Hills in Newtown?

Mr Cruson is not sure of the answer, and suspects that the area’s proximity to major travel routes was key. The community opposed the facility, and as Mr Cruson mimicked, “Oh no, not an asylum,” he also summarized the stigma attached to a mental institution. During a town meeting in 1928 with “quite a turn out,” he said, of roughly 600 people, Mr Cruson’s research revealed that one local physician made such a compelling speech that the townspeople either changed their view or “at least accepted” the mental health facility.