If you mail a letter to Greenwich, Mass., or Enfield, Mass., expect it to be returned to sender. Though once sprinkled with roads, houses and churches, those towns — along with Dana and Prescott — now reside only in the history books and in archives. The four Swift River Valley communities were disincorporated on April 28, 1938, to make way for the Quabbin Reservoir, the largest inland body of water in Massachusetts.
The result of the intentional flooding? The reservoir is the primary water supply for Boston and some other communities.
These “lost” towns and the water source that replaced them have been a subject of interest for Athol photographer Dale Monette, who just recently presented, a program that compared archived photos of those towns and the photos Monette has taken in recent times.
Monette, who retired from the state Department of Conservation and Recreation two years ago, has taken archived photographs of the Quabbin Reservoir from the 1930s and recreated them from the same spots in present-day settings.
Monette likes to take images of yesteryear’s landscape and houses, juxtaposed with pictures of what exists there today.
“When (the state) created the reservoir in the ’30s, they had an army of photographers who documented all the construction and all the deconstruction. (The state) took down almost 3,000 structures,” Monette said. “Every house that was purchased from the residents was photographed by the engineers. Once the residents moved out of the valley, the houses were either torn down or the residents were told they could keep the house but had to move it out of the valley.
“Some did that. Some took the doors and windows, which were hard to come by back then, and kept house,” he added. “Some took their houses apart piece by piece.”
The photographers included in the old photographs each spot’s exact coordinates and the specific date written on a chalkboard, and Monette, who has built a reputation as an talented nature photographer, used them to capture the modern-day scene.
A snapshot of Moses Marcille’s house on the Dana Common was taken on June 11, 1930. Marcille was a blacksmith for the town during the 1890s. The 1930 photo, taken from the center of a dirt road, depicts a modest-looking house with a chimney and slanted roof. There is also a bicycle leaned against the house.
Fast-forward more than 80 years, and the visible retaining wall still stands, though the spot is now speckled with trees.
In another pairing, a Jan. 15, 1931, photo of the William Bullard farm in New Salem shows three structures at the end of a snow-covered road, while the updated image bears nothing but trees and a sign.
“Every person was paid fair market value for their property. If they had a business, they weren’t paid for the business. The state paid for land and the houses,” Monette said. “Once the deed was signed, the people had to move out. This is where the state said, ‘If you want to take your house, go ahead and take it.’
“Some people had the mechanism to have the whole house moved,” he added. “Then, the valley was flooded.”
Charles Wade, a builder from Dorset, Vt., bought 11 abandoned houses and moved them piece by piece to Dorset, where they still stand.
Monette said the four towns were all disincorporated for the reservoir, though only Greenwich and Enfield are underwater.
Monette has now presented two programs at the public library in Wendell.
Rosie Heidkamp, the director of Wendell Free Library, said the library last year hosted a Monette-led program that was so successful she was determined to have him back.
“A good, quality program on the Quabbin is always appreciated by people in Wendell and neighboring towns. I often think, ‘What would have happened if the towns would have been able to continue and develop?’ she said. “It wouldn’t be the same beautiful snapshot. It’s going to be a long time before that fascination goes away for the local communities.”
Monette delivers his programs via PowerPoint.
Heidkamp said programs like his are what the town envisioned when it built the library at 7 Wendell Depot Road nearly 10 years ago. She also said she marvels at Monette’s other nature photography, which she finds impressive.
“It’s exquisite. It’s very high-end, very professional and detailed,” she said. “He spends a lot of time to get out there and get to things that most people have never even seen.”
Monette said he was born in Gardner and raised in Athol. He tells of how his father would rent a boat in New Salem to take him and his younger brother fishing.
He is also an avid birder who grew up around the reservoir but didn’t realize the significance of its history or beauty until he was nearly an adult. He has been photographing the area for years.
“I just enjoy it. You can hike almost everywhere. You can get yourself so (that) you feel like there’s nobody around,” he said. “It means spending time in the woods, in the forests, the swamps. You actually get to look for the animals and then when you find them you get to take a little peek into their world, so to speak. You can document their behavior. And then you can turn around and leave and, hopefully, they’ll never know you were there.”
The 67-year-old has a deeper connection to the reservoir’s history — two great-grandparents on his mother’s side lived in Prescott until they moved to Athol prior to the intentional flooding.
Today, Prescott is off limits to the public. Once or twice a year, the DCR allows descendents of former residents to explore the peninsula with a guide.
Monette said he worked for the Union Twist Drill Company in Athol until he was 30, when he was laid off and chose to enter the wildlife program at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. He eventually got hired at the DCR, where he spent 12 years of his career working in the Quabbin Visitors Center in Belchertown.
Monette said there is a persistent rumor that some of the disincorporated towns’ houses and churches were left standing and their rooftops and steeples can occasionally be seen poking out of the water. He said this is false.
“It looked like the moon when they started flooding the reservoir,” he said, describing the area’s lack of structures. “If I had a nickel for every time someone came in and asked where they could see the rooftops and church steeples, I would have been a rich man.”
An infamous fire in Boston in 1872 generated discussion of how the city was in need of more access to water.
Monette said Quabbin was an ideal fit because it averaged 44 inches of annual rainfall and there are hundreds of small streams that flow into the valley.
“Geology was perfect for a large dam,” he said, adding that South Hadley, Wilbraham and Chicopee also get water from the reservoir.
According to www.mass.gov, Quabbin’s water covers 39 square miles, is 18 miles long and has 181 miles of shoreline. The reservoir holds 412 billion gallons of water when full.
Businesses, a state highway, a railroad line and 34 cemeteries were also moved or dismantled when the reservoir was created. More than 6,000 graves were relocated from the valley to Quabbin Park Cemetery.
All the photographs of the “lost” towns are either in the state archives in Boston or in Belchertown.
Monette’s nature photography can be viewed at northquabbinphotography.com.
You can reach Domenic Poli at: dpoli@recorder.com or 413-772-0261, ext. 258. On Twitter: @DomenicPoli