Date: Fri 19-Sep-1997
Date: Fri 19-Sep-1997
Publication: Bee
Author: DOTTIE
Quick Words:
Denlinger-tunnel-Cruson
Full Text:
Culvert Or Cow Tunnel? Denlingers Explore Newtown Underground
(with photos)
BY DOROTHY EVANS
For 22 years, Pat and Bill Denlinger have lived in the center of Newtown at
number 32 Grand Place. Their property is located at the back end of a
pan-handle development off Queen Street that was built in the late 1960s by
developer Bob McCulloch.
The Denlingers' lot is long and thin, sloping downhill into the woods. Beyond
the woods, there is a large open space tract that is traversed by the New
York, New Haven & Hartford Railroad, originally known as the Housatonic
Railroad.
This was the first railroad line to be completed in the state, with the
railroad crew working quickly and skillfully to finish the Newtown and
Hawleyville sections between the years 1838 and 1839.
As a result of their efforts, the very first passenger train in Connecticut
made its maiden run from New Milford to Bridgeport on February 14, 1840.
That train's passing must have been a remarkable event in the lives of the
local people who watched and heard it chugging through the valley directly
behind the property now owned by the Denlingers.
If Bill Denlinger could have stood out on his back deck that Valentine's Day
157 years ago, he'd have heard the roar of the steam engine followed by the
shrieking whistle.
Being local history buffs, Mr and Mrs Denlinger like to think about those
days, and what the land around their home was like long before the subdivision
went in.
They know that in the nineteenth century, the rich bottomland held several
dairy farms that were owned by members of the Beers family.
When their four grandsons visit, they talk about the old days, and they go
exploring.
Where The Cows Were
What the Denlingers and their grandsons have found tells a story of Newtown's
agricultural past and of the coming of the railroad into the Pootatuck River
Valley a century-and-a-half ago.
The evidence, both ordinary and intriguing, was plain to see on a hot July
morning this summer, when Mr and Mrs Denlinger and their dog, Stella, took a
visitor on a walking tour behind the property.
"Sometimes, features along property lines don't change much with time," he
noted.
Indeed, rusted bits of barbed wire were found sticking out of a tree trunk.
After decades, they had become deeply embedded as the trunk's bark slowly
engulfed the wire.
The old-fence line had run along the border of the Denlingers' property,
shared by their neighbors, the Gellerts.
"This was probably an old cow path leading from the barn on Queen Street down
to the fields and the river," Mr Denlinger said, touching a rotting wooden
fence post that was still standing at his back corner.
As they approached the railroad grade, the Denlingers turned right (or south)
behind the Gellerts' lot, heading toward what looked like a dense, impassable
thicket alongside the train tracks.
While Bill watched, Pat and Stella disappeared into the undergrowth.
Secret Passage
Here was the piece de resistance , the favorite destination and subject of
frequent explorations by the Denlingers' four grandsons, Bill said.
It was a six-foot-high stone tunnel going all the way under the tracks and
leading to the other side. The tunnel was beautifully crafted of giant stones
and mortar, solidly constructed and in very good condition. It was wide enough
for two people to walk through side by side. Or one cow.
"Maybe when the railroad was being built, the farmer asked the crew to build
this tunnel so his cows could go safely between the barn and their grazing
pasture," said Mr Denlinger.
"At least, that's the rumor we heard when we bought the place," he added. From
behind the curtain of blackberry vines, Mrs Denlinger invited the others to
"come on in. It's completely dry."
Stella ran excitedly in and out. Only after being commanded in Mr Denlinger's
stern voice to "come," did she consent to rejoin the group outside in the
sunshine.
Obviously, this was a place that Stella had visited before, a place she liked
going back to, a place where she never tired of sniffing.
After 157 years, was there still a scent of cow lingering on the old tunnel
floor? Only Stella knows for sure.
Historian's View
Newtown historian Dan Cruson was interested to hear about the stone tunnel
under the railroad tracks, though he did have a slightly different and much
less romantic opinion about its historical origin.
He thought it was "most likely one of several stone culverts built when the
railroad was going through."
"There may have been a stream running through there originally, and the
culvert was a railroad feature built to divert runoff water from the meadow
into Tom Brook."
Tom Brook is a tributary of the Pootatuck River.
When Mr Cruson was told about the remarkable dryness of the tunnel floor and
the lack of any evidence of water nearby, he was quick to credit those
nineteenth century railroad builders for doing a "fantastic job."
But at one time, he said, water might have flowed freely through there.
"When they put in the interstate, they completely changed the way water flowed
through the valley," Mr Cruson said.
Interstate 84 was completed in Newtown in the early 1970s.
Reaching much farther back in time than the interstate or even the coming of
the railroad, Mr Cruson said that the large open space area bound today by
Queen Street, Church Hill Road, the Pootatuck River, and Mile Hill Road had
once held several farms, "as many as five."
Before the five farms, there was a one mile square tract of wilderness, Mr
Cruson said, that was granted by the Connecticut colony's General Assembly at
the end of the eighteenth century. It was known as "Samuel Sherman's Old
Farm."
"That was before Newtown was formed. State land grants were given in
compensation for war injuries or things owed," Mr Cruson explained.
The square mile plot had to have been given to Samuel Sherman well before
1711, because that was the year the town of Newtown was incorporated.
The Cows Come Home
As for the intriguing issue of the stone tunnel under the train tracks and
what its original purpose was, Mr Cruson was asked to speculate further.
Could he explain how those nineteenth century cows grazing in the middle of
what was once Samuel Sherman's Old Farm got home to their barn every night
without being hit by a train and killed?
"I suspect they managed to get over the tracks pretty well by themselves," he
said, adding that the idea of a "cow tunnel" being built by the railroad crew
for a worried farmer and his herd was most likely "a nice bit of local
folklore."
Cow tunnel or culvert, we'll never know for sure, and the Denlingers'
grandsons probably don't care which it is.
All they know is that nothing beats exploring a secret stone passage built
long ago, for whatever purpose. Though it is hidden by a jungle of
undergrowth, they know how to find it anytime they visit their grandparents.
Stella comes along for the adventure, and the five of them sit inside the
stone tunnel, safe and dry as can be, thinking about the men that built it and
the days gone by.
