Welcome to the Lost New London website. Please check out the pages by clicking on the upper right hand corner.
but first…
It is Friday, September 9, 1967. A thick soup of fog hangs over eastern Long Island, southeastern Connecticut. The Plum Island , an aging ferry boat, is making its way back to New London from Orient Point with a visibility of less than 50 feet. Thirty-two passengers wait the 90 minutes, immersed in a paperback novel or magazine, a game of checkers or cards, munching on potato chips, or playing hide and seek, as the engines drone on and on, the bridge getting some reassurance from the green graphics blinking on a small screen. In retrofitting the former Navy LST from war to peacetime use, the owners had taken pride in their company‘s safety record relying on training drills, the daily experience of guiding a 328’ vessel in all kinds of weather, sea conditions, with the latest technology from what has come to be known as the Space Age. Not one accident, not one sprained ankle or misplaced step mares the six years the company has been at the helm.
The crew relaxes a bit hearing bell buoy #5 clang on cue at the mouth of the river. The time between horn blasts shortens, the ship’s throttle now resting at half speed. Members of the crew mouth prayers to Neptune for a clear channel. Minutes tick by. The veil around seems to thin as the haze grey behemoth brushes on past the toy-like sailboats pointed every which way., giving no sense of direction. Yes, a still life of the Thames Yacht Club. No wind, no motion, only the slowing throb, the jarring vibration of engines laboring, pulsating through the many thousands of rivets holding the Plum Island together.
The fog persists, intensifies closer to shore, visibility now about 30’, the throttle set on slow. A soft breeze from the west brings a not totally pleasant aroma from kitchen ventilator at Tradewinds, a restaurant next to the ferry terminal. The few walkers are standing by, the drivers are already in their cars, no more than 1000‘ feet from the terminal wharf, waiting for the giant winged steel doors of the bow to open as if the Plum Island were a butterfly.
Inside one of those cars…
Harry, how much longer once we leave New London?
To Providence? A fraction of the time it‘s taken us on this tub, maybe…
Harry! Harry!
I‘m still here, dear….
Did you feel that? What happened?
What happened! My hairpiece just mated with the head rest, that’s what happened… they made me a headache, and it‘s a whopper… and my neck, (Harry is giving himself a massage) I wonder if there‘s a case here for wrongful whiplash… say, is Trystman back from Bermuda yet? Harriet?
I think we‘ve stopped. We must be at the dock. I don‘t feel any motion.
Well, my head‘s spinning. Start the car. I can‘t wait for us to be back on terra firma.
Oh, Harry, why aren‘t they opening those doors? I‘m starting to palpitate.
Three minutes go by. Nothing happens, Then four. A car horn blares, then another and another. The captain is making an announcement on the ship‘s speakers. Nobody hears it.
Harriet sees a crew member in blue coveralls exit a hatch door She rolls down the window.
Young man… young man! The teen with a Met‘s ball cap turns towards her and saunters up to the car.
What‘s going on? Why aren‘t the doors opening?
Simple, he says, shrugging. We‘re not at the dock.
(Harriet looks at Harry and mouths the words not at the dock. Harry shrugs and looks away.) Well, why not?
The captain made an announcement.
And?
We hit a rock.
We hit a rock! Are we going to sink? (Harriett instinctively glances down at the floorboard.)
Unlikely, Ma‘am. The rock‘s going nowhere and neither are we.
to be continued…
Welcome! I update and expand this site almost daily. Please click on the links in the upper right hand corner. Other streets and locations will follow. Thank you for your visits and continued support!
Also, on the Stories pages, you will find 5 first-person narratives with images based in various locations of Lost New London. Feedback on this page as well as on others is always welcome via email. lostnewlondon@gmail.com Thank you!
Please visit the Events page for locations where the book Lost New London is available. Price is $24.99.
Thank you.
Bill Morse, author
Lower Winthrop Cove showing Central Vermont Railway and pedestrian bridge, small marina, blacksmith shop, Hallam Street railroad crossing tower, Mohican Hotel, B.P. Learned Center (former Lawrence villa, 1850), 30 Federal Street, the Rev. Woodbridge House (1769), Ahavath Chesed Synagogue (former American Methodist Episcopal Church, 1856).
courtesy George Oldershaw, 1961
self portrait at 33,000‘ above New London
Welcome. This website compliments the book Lost New London released by The History Press on October 14, 2025.
On the following pages you will find researched material from the Main Street redevelopment area of the 1960‘s that is outside of the book.
In that this site is an amateur‘s labor of love and a work in progress, I ask for your patience with the inevitable gaps in coverage and unintentional mistakes.
thank you,
Bill
“ On April 30, 1962, voters in the port city of New London, Connecticut, approved by a large margin the bulldozer approach to urban renewal in an area along Main Street stretching from downtown State Street to Hodges Square by Interstate 95, roughly one mile to the north. The plan required the relocation of more than two thousand people and the demolition of nearly five hundred structures, some dating back to the 1750s. Among the losses were the Neptune Building and Victory Theater along the Parade, sea captains‘ homes on and off Main Street, settlement houses, family-run businesses, the colonial homes of slave traders, and the newer homes of former slaves.
New London native and old house enthusiast Bill Morse shares the images and stories from these events that changed a community forever.”
Eugene O‘Neill Drive ( formerly Main Street) area today
courtesy the City of New London, 2024
Main Street - Winthrop Cove renewal area
1954 Sanborn fire insurance map
courtesy the Library of Congress