The Hilton Homeland South

Often times some of the most interesting things happen to you in every day life.  There is no planning involved really, they just seem to happen, like water flowing down a slide, events take shape and it is like they were meant to be.  I had one of those things happen to me recently.  My long time friend and business associate Mike Martin asked me to go with him to Massachusetts to procure a more reliable and consistent supply of interesting sea creatures for the Touch Tanks for Kids Program.  I agreed before I knew where we were going, when he told me to the Marine Biological Laboratories in Woods Hole.  That was somewhat of a coincidence.  My family had roots in that town and I had heard about Woods Hole my entire life but had never been there.  I sensed that an adventure I hadn’t looked  for was on the way.

I told my father where I was going and he told some of the things he could remember, about my Great Grandfather’s/Uncle’s shop, how he used to go there almost every summer when he was a kid.  I heard about all of the streets that were named after my Grandfather, (Leslie), my great uncles, (Sumner, Glendon) and that there was even a Hilton Avenue.  He tried to show me on Google maps where these places were but it was hard to get perspective when you have never been to a place before.

Heading For Woods Hole

So off we went from Jefferson, Maine to Woods Hole, Massachusetts.  It was about four and a half hours each way so this was going to be a long day.  We left at 5:45 am, I don’t mind the early hours, it is a good feeling to be out on the road, before most people are even awake.  You feel like you are getting a great jump start on the rest of the world.  It’s quiet and this time of year still dark.  And for a little while, the moon is your only companion on  the soon to be busy roads.  The traffic increased with the daylight, and the world around us sprung to life, as we headed towards our destination of Woods Hole.

I have been told that I am easy to talk to, but when I go on trips like this with Mike Martin I realize how rare our friendship is.  First of all we first met in kindergarten in 1971 and we have been friends for forty years.  Still, ten hours riding in a car, cannot begin to find us lost for words.  We talked about all subject that you can imagine.  Some old, some new but we have never run out of things to say.  It is pretty remarkable.  So one of the many topics we discussed while heading down there was my heritage and connection to the area.  I told him some of the things my relatives had told me over the years.  How my Great Grandparents, Oscar and Martha Hilton, moved to Woods Hole to seek their fortune sometime in the very early 1900’s.  And they lived there,  their whole lives and had a family, with three surviving sons, Glendon, Sumner and Leslie.  And that somewhere in Woods Hole there were even streets named after each, and a street named after my Father, James.  Mike didn’t quite believe my story as I told it, but I told him what I remembered about each person.   How my Grandfather, Leslie, was one of the best people I had ever known.  He was outgoing, funny and one of the most admired people I have ever met.  Sumner was his older brother, who used to come to visit my Grandparents every summer with his lovely wife, Vera.  I remember, they would roll into my grandparents with their camper in tow.  One of the first things that Auntie Vera would do was get out a bag of marshmellows and start distributing them to all of the kids.  Why marshmallows?  I still am not sure why, but she and we always made a production out of getting those marshmallows. She would give us, “one in each hand!”,  I thought the world of Auntie Vera and still do, and it only took a couple of marshmallows to win me over for life.  I am sure my siblings felt the same way.  Sumner and Vera lived in Woods Hole during the warm season and in Florida in the winter.   Glendon, I honestly can not remember at all.  I don’t remember ever meeting him, although my parents both assure me that I did meet him at least once.  I am not sure what demons he faced in life, but I know he wasn’t as close with his brothers as Sumner and Leslie were.  He was the oldest son and I think he lived most of his life in the Woods Hole area. I know he had kids and they lived there too.  My father also described the shop that my family used to operate in downtown Woods Hole it had huge double doors and he said that today it was some kind of boutique.  With directions like that how could I go wrong.

Taking Care of Business

First we had to take care of business, we found our way, after a few missteps to the Oceanagraphic Place that distributes the sea life we needed.  It was in downtown Woods Hole so I knew we were heading into the homeland, it was exciting to look at buildings that had clearly been there for many years and were buildings that the people of my past walked by, shopped in and visited friends in, years before I was born.  We were able to take a tour of the sea life distribution facility  to see how they store sea life.  It is a giant room which reminded me of a green house, but instead of flowers growing in soil, there were rows of blue plastic bins, with water circulating in from on top and out from down bottom.  Inside each bin was a particular species of sea life, from tiny little crabs to big giant spider looking crabs.  All of the sea life you could ever want was crawling, swimming or slithering around there.   The business was concluded quickly because it was clear that this relationship would be a mutually beneficial one for them and for us.  We even placed our first order, took care of business and then we explored the town of Woods Hole.  We walked up the street in search of my ancestral shop.

Finding The Family Shop in Woods Hole

We had only traveled about a hundred feet up the street when I saw a building that fit the description.  It was white with huge double doors on the front, was this it? It was some kind of shop, I was not sure what a boutique was, but this looked like one to me.  I went in and introduced myself to the very friendly person behind the counter, I told her my mission, and she asked me my name, and when I said Hilton, she immediately said, Sumner?  That was a start, I was definitely in the right place.  She proceeded to tell me about all she knew about the building since it had been out of the Hilton Family.   She was wonderful and I felt a connection, clearly the floor was the same boards that by Great Grandfather, Grandfather and relatives had walked across daily for years in the past.  After a bit we continued the tour of the town and met some delightful people, which is always the best part of going to new places.  I learned as much as I could about the local activities as I could, we grabbed a bite to eat at a neat little sandwich shop called Pie In The Sky Bakery.  They serve breakfast sandwiches all day and that was perfect for me.  While we were there meeting interesting people, I started to ask if anyone had an idea of how to get to Sumner Street.  After some great effort by the staff there, a nice lady gave us perfect directions on how to get there.

We left the shop and I looked around the town, it was definitely a tourist trap in the summer, and I felt a little fortunate that it was December and there weren’t hundreds of  people trying to force their way down those tiny, narrow roads.  As it was you could have walked down the middle of the road and barely had your stroll  interrupted by an oncoming vehicle.  It really gave me an opportunity to look at the buildings and imagine what life was like there in the past lives of my ancestors, as they lived their lives and built their dreams.

The Streets Of My Family

It was time to head for home, but we had one more thing to do, we had to find the Hilton Streets.  With the help of our friends from the sandwich shop we went right there, and the first street we came to was Leslie Street, I wasn’t sure what I felt, but I knew that I wanted to capture this moment.  Even though my Grandfather passed away 18 years ago, here was a street that was bearing his name, I got my picture taken underneath the sign.  It was probably just my imagination but I felt a connection to my Grandfather that I hadn’t felt in a long time.  I remembered things about him that I had forgotten, and suddenly missed him and wondered what he would think of all of the changes that had occurred over that past 18 years.  It was a tremendous experience.  Then we moved down Leslie Street which brought us to Sumner Street.  I followed the same routine and thought of the great man that was as much a part of my families past as anybody.  I thought about the laughter that I can remember whenever they would visit, and of course, I thought of marshmallows.  With that on my mind I laughed out loud.  Next we went to the end of Sumner Street, and found James Street.  Mike knew my father and was flabbergasted at this point and admitted that he hadn’t really believed my story about the streets but the proof was right in front of him.  We took pictures of the signs at each end of James Street,  my thoughts went to my father who must have had such great summers visiting with family in Woods Hole.  I thought about how happy he would be that I was there, and how much he would like the picture.  Next we came to Glendon Street and we were on our way to take pictures of that sign when we saw the sign for Hilton Avenue.  Obviously this was a must, as I grabbed that sign pole I could almost feel my Great Grandparents one of whom died before I was born and the other I barely knew.  But standing there at Hilton Avenue, I understood a young couple from Maine who moved to Woods Hole to make their fortune and they succeeded. They must feel a special pride in seeing what all of their descendants have done.  Finally there was Glendon Street and like I said, I really didn’t know him at all, but found my thoughts going out to him just the same, and I felt connected to someone that I had never even really thought of before. I wondered about his family, and who they were and where they were.  I realized that I didn’t even know who his children, grandchildren and descendants were.

Home Again

Now it was time to leave the homeland and head back to Maine.  On the ride home we talked of many things and as usual it was an entertaining time.  When we got back I told my Father all about my trip around Woods Hole. We looked at Google Maps and I showed him where we went and he told me about his memories.  I showed him the pictures of me at each of the signs.   It wasn’t until later when I had my thoughts to myself when I put the days events into perspective.  There was an entire part of me that I really had never been in touch with before and it was now coming out, and connecting me to those Hiltons of my past.  Yes often times, the most interesting things happen to you in every day life.