Posts about my mother, artist Barbara Boyd Carter

In her dorm room, 1950s
© Barbara Boyd Carter /
Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Barbara Boyd Carter (1932-2019) grew up in Flemington, NJ, a small town famous for the Lindbergh kidnapping trial, Flemington Furs, Stangl Pottery and Turntable Junction Village shops.

Born into a family of three generations of house painters, my mother began drawing at an early age when her father challenged her to comics drawing contests at the kitchen table. She became the artist in the family but told me she didn’t even know how to hold a paintbrush until she got to Carnegie Tech’s School of Art, now Carnegie Mellon, where she studied with Andy Warhol's teachers (BFA in Pictorial Design, 1954).

Her work has been exhibited at Huntington Arts Council and Daniel Gale Sotheby's Realty in Northport, NY. So far, I've placed her work with Heinz History Center and Cincinnati Museum centers, and historical societies in Huntington, Long Island, and Monroeville, PA.

Past posts at this link on VillagerExpat.com:

https://www.villagerexpat.com/p/posts-about-artist-barbara-boyd-carter.html

Chasing the rents on the Upper East Side

This was my parents' neighborhood. I never thought I'd move here but the street has a village-y feel. I found a prewar apartment at tree level with a view of old brownstones of art galleries, practically a whole row of them.

One night I saw them loading large paintings through a second floor window.  

I was living in Northport, Long Island when I saw the listing for this apartment. I wanted to move back to the city but wasn't looking on the Upper East Side. 

The Burtises and Leroys drive to Allenhurst to see Sadie's house

Nineteen hundred and twelve was a year of disasters, around the world and at the Jersey Shore. In April Mr. and Mrs. French, two summer residents of Allenhurst, died aboard the Titanic on their voyage home from Italy, and in early July, only three weeks before the hit-and-run between Undertaker Burtis and Sadie Brady at Atlantic Highlands Bridge, the Dunes Hotel burned to the ground. 

Asbury Park Press, 10 Jul 1912

"I want to see where she lives." It was Lizzie's idea, Ginny Burtis's friend, who was in the Burtises' new touring car for a Sunday drive when they were rear-ended by Sadie Brady's party. 

That evening of the same day, a few short hours after the accident, the Burtis son drove his parents, the Leroys and the family dog along Ocean avenue in Allenhurst. It was their second weekend trip to view the devastation of the hotel fire in the crowd of gawkers from all over New Jersey, Philadelphia and New York City. Some were fascinated by the finds of scavengers or "miners" who picked through the debris for trinkets from hotel guests but there was too much traffic to linger. Two full weeks afterwards the scene still looked like a ravaged battlefield.

"Terrible loss," Burtis said as his thoughts jumped to his big beautiful house in Asbury Park, all wood. "Hotels can't be made of wood. Their big kitchens and people smoking. Too risky." 

New York City, 1905: Brady v. Brady divorce trial reveals that husband met actress in hotel rooms

The Circle Hotel w/ Robert Burns Cigars ad, top left

Gertrude Mackenzie
in the "Wizard of Oz"

"Miss Mackenzie lived in a suite of rooms at a Columbus Circle hotel and Mr. Brady called frequently there under the name Mr. Burns," Mr. Ordway said.

In 1903 Gertrude Mackenzie appeared as Prince Charming in the "Wizard of Oz" at the Majestic Theatre, now the site of the Time Warner Center.

"Wizard of Oz" on marquee, 1903

In outlining his case to the jury, Sadie's lawyer Samuel H. Ordway said, "We shall show that during last spring and summer Mr. Brady became cold toward his wife and showed attention to an actress by the name of Gertrude Mackenzie, who has taken parts in small comic operas as a flirt, commonly known as a soubrette."

Called as first witness, a maid in the Brady household testified that Mr. Brady packed up his belongings last August and said, "I'm not going to live in this hell-hole any longer!" 

Brady visited Miss Mackenzie at Reisenweber's Hotel in Columbus Circle, giving his name as Mr. Burns. A boy who used to work at the hotel but employed by Sadie's brother Charles Singer at the time of trial . . .

1912, Asbury Park, part 3: Burtis finds out who crashed into his auto

Could this be Sadie V. Brady in New York, 1911,
a year before the accident?
(link to clip)

"Take the car back to the garage and get rid of it. The brakes don't work," Sadie said to her nephew who was driving their rented auto into Allenhurst along Ocean Avenue. "This is your uncle's fault. If he had let us have his car none of this would have happened."

Her nephew Robert and the chauffeur-chaperone sitting beside him knew Mr. Brady needed his car in New York for business, but they knew better than to argue with Sadie.

This party of three that had rear-ended undertaker Burtis's touring car at the Atlantic Highlands bridge moments ago enjoyed the ocean views and sea breeze along the newly paved boulevard but the accident had spoiled it.

After Robert dropped off his aunt at their cottage and received instructions not to pay the bill, his chauffeur-chaperone guided him to the garage. Turning right onto Corlies they headed towards Deal Lake passing the Allenhurst Beach club at Norwood Avenue, a block from his aunt's house.

He continued on up to Main Street, where he turned left and proceeded into the unfamiliar territory of the hamlet's utilities district. Robert gripped the wheel as they traveled south past the trolley car barn at Elberon, past the light and waterworks at Hume, and still further south to the garage at Euclid and Main, where Robert told the attendant the brakes didn't work and dropped off the car without paying.

*   *   *

"I don't mind paying when I'm in the wrong," Burtis said to Croce, "but they ran into me. They ruined a new car."

A day after the accident,

1912, Asbury Park, part 2: Undertaker Burtis goes for a drive in his new Haynes touring car

Photo: Norah Magrini of Avon Historical Society

"Another unfortunate event," the young reporter said. "But the Haynes got it good this time."

Ralph tipped back his bowler hat and waited. 

"I'm Fredus White from the Press. I wrote about your last accident, on Sylvania Avenue in Avon, in front of Mayor Thomson's garage? I live a block away, at Woodland and Main."

Asbury Park Press, 3 May 1912

"I remember you," Ralph said, annoyed that a reporter who looked the same age acted like he had something. 

1912, Asbury Park: Undertaker Burtis goes for a drive in his new Haynes touring car

Atlantic Highlands bridge, early 1900s
Photo: Walt Trevors - Historical Society of Highlands

It was a year of disasters, around the world and in Asbury Park. In April two summer residents, Mr and Mrs Herbert French, died aboard the Titanic on their voyage back from a winter in Italy; in early July the Dunes hotel in Allenhurst burned to the ground, and a couple weeks later on a Sunday after church when the Burtises of Asbury Park took their dear friends, Mr and Mrs Howard Leroy, for a scenic drive in their new five-passenger Haynes touring car their delightful ride came to an end on their approach to Highlands bridge.

Asbury Park Press, Mon. July 29, 1912
Page One

Did the other driver leave the scene?

The Haynes was undertaker Burtis's first car, and a keeper. With an Eisemann magneto starter, 40 h.p., a speedometer, windshield and five lamps, advanced design elements at the time that were meant to impress . . .   

In 1923 in Asbury Park, my Brooklyn grandmother's acting career gets sidetracked by a man

courtesy of the Historical Society of Riverton, NJ

Remember our midnight swim? Love, Ralph

"Did you have to send me that postcard?"

"I thought it was romantic."

"My mother saw it!"

"Don't worry. We're getting married. Everything's alright now." 

It was a moonlit night in April as they drove down Ocean Avenue in his Haynes touring car. Exhilarating! but the racket of spring peepers made it impossible to have a conversation. Her thoughts drifted to talks with her sister Evelyn.

He's a good catch, Maria. Undertakers always make a living.

He's not an undertaker! He sells pianos and he's musically inclined.

He's in music for now but he'll take over his father's business someday and you'll live in a mansion. He's your ticket out of Brooklyn. You can't be an actress forever.

A stonecutter in the family: the Casper monuments business near Green-Wood Cemetery

G Casper Monumental Work, Lettering Jobbing Etc., 24th n. 4th av, Brooklyn, ca. 1880
Photo ©Cathy Tipton, all rights reserved. Used by permission.

He came from Germany in 1846 when he was 20 and made headstones for a living. His monuments mark the resting places of families in Green-Wood Cemetery with love and respect, and commemorate their lives forever.

How did he become a stonecutter? . . .

Walking in their footsteps: my relatives from Brooklyn, known and unknown

Bond trader Frank Carter on Wall Street in the 1930s

He didn't like to talk about his childhood in Brooklyn. As the first in the family to work on Wall Street in the corporate world, clients and peers in his day made assumptions about you by your ethnic background. He was proud of being from Brooklyn. Flatbush was nice then, but his father, a bookbinder, deserted his mother and him by the time he was 13 and my grandfather had to go to work, first part-time as a bellhop in a hotel, then full time after his first year of high school. A serious person and a reader like his mother, he wanted a better life. But at 16, at the start of WWI, a wave of patriotism was sweeping the city. He tried to sign up for the draft by lying about his age but was sent home when his mother showed up. He was the breadwinner in the family. He couldn't go. Back at work, he befriended the Wall Street businessmen who passed through the hotel, found a mentor, and eventually became a bond trader with his own firm at 111 Broadway. Unlike his father, who divorced and remarried twice more, he was a a rock. After familial setbacks, and seeing what could be lost in stock market crashes and wars, . . .

Veterans Fishing Station, a/k/a The Clam Bar, Cold Spring Harbor

Photo courtesy of Jeff Springsteen,
used by permission

Do you remember those days hanging out at the Village Green?
Engineer boots, leather jackets and tight blue jeans

--Billy Joel,

"Scenes From an Italian Restaurant"

Last week I had the pleasure of seeing two lithos of my mother's at the financial services firm Deloitte U.S. in Rockefeller Center (below). One is an image of the Veterans Fishing Station in Cold Spring Harbor, a/k/a The Clam Bar, next to the Village Green that Billy Joel sings about. The Whalers Inn across the street is now the Harbor Mist restaurant. Many thanks to Huntington town historian Robert C. Hughes for identifying the site and to Jeff Springsteen for sharing the photo of his friends from 1978-79 ("I Grew Up in Cold Spring Harbor" Facebook page).

Exploring opportunities in digital and other media. No longer representing writers or accepting submissions.

Waverly Place Literary Agency has closed. If you're looking for an agent, I recommend looking at writers' conferences' websites for participating agents. 

"Writers Conferences, Colonies, and Workshops," Poets & Writers magazine

Contact info

Debbie Carter, Blogger
VillagerExpat@aol.com
(212) 925-3721

WaverlyPlaceLiterary@aol.com is closed and is no longer accepting queries

Follow @VillagerExpat