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Walking Massachusetts

South from Braintree Five Corners

June 4, 1997

7.5 hours

This walk began from Braintree Five Corners, which I first reached years ago, in the early stages of my walking. At that time, when four hours was a typical duration, my path went from Quincy to the Brockton line. I used this point to start a walk that went in the western direction.

Arriving via the Quincy - South Shore Plaza bus, I started at 8:40 AM, a relatively late time being imposed by the MBTA' s schedule. As I crossed to Granite Street, I noticed how much this intersection has changed since my day.

I was born in Boston but grew up in Braintree. Truthfully, I always hated its middle-class narrow-mindedness, which included a heavy dose of racism. It's interesting that two of the bands on This Is Boston, Not L.A., the premier Boston hardcore compilation album came from Braintree - Gang Green and Jerry's Kids.

Braintree, although an overdeveloped town that no longer deserves (if it ever did) the appellation "Braintree the Beautiful", once bestowed on it by a Boston TV announcer who lived there, does have some claims to historical significance. It is the only town that is the birthplace of two Presidents, John Adams and John Quincy Adams having been born in that section of Braintree that is now the city of Quincy. The "Braintree Resolutions", engineered by John Adams, were the first declaration of any town government in favor of American independence. Braintree also has the home of General Sylvanus Thayer, the "Father of West Point". Of even more global significance, it contains the site (unmarked, with none of the landmarks extant) of the crime for which Sacco and Vanzetti were executed.

Like so many localities through the state, Five Corners has lost many of its local institutions to the gain of chains and nationally advertised business. For example, I saw a Jimbo's, a Bertucci's, and a Newbury Comics.

As I headed down Granite, I saw not only a Dunkin Donuts at the corner (which I patronized on my last walk there) but also, further along on the right, Dunkin Donuts University!

Granite Street contains a mixture (typical of all Braintree sections) of residences and commercial properties, including strip malls and industrial plazas. I noted, among others, Campanelli Industrial Park and the ABC Plaza.

Blocked from view on my left, lay Braintree High School. A sign showed that the football team is still the Wampatucks. (I wondered if WJDA still broadcasts their games to the sound of tom-toms, maintaining the racist tradition.)

I did not go to this, the "new" high school, but rather the older one, now converted to housing, with one of its former principals as a tenant. Did I ever despise that place! In assemblies the administration never failed to tell us that Braintree High was one of the ten best in the state, and I never failed to grumble, "If this is one of the ten best, can you imagine what the ten worst must be like?" Another frequent comment of mine was, "It's not so much the school that I hate, it's the principal of the thing". An Internet search did indicate, however, that its standards for science and foreign languages evidently have risen, and one can even get a glimpse that way of the yearbook (stupid enough looking, but aren't they all?).

According to the maps, I passed over Farm River somewhere along here. Either I missed seeing it or it has somehow disappeared, filling in wetlands being a kind of pastime in Braintree.

At the junction with Pond Street, passing a closed up out of business store with posters on it, I observed signs of construction in the area on my left, more wetlands. I was now making a repeat, which continued to Oak Street.

I had covered this part of Pond earlier this year on a walk that began in South Braintree, going west, then north, ending (after ten hours!) in Wellesley. My plan had been to go west through King Hill Road, but I found this to lead to a water works area with "No Trespassing" signs so menacing that I had to go back and make a detour.

Passing more houses and two more industrial complexes on my right (Messina Industrial Park and Pond Street Industrial Park), I entered Randolph, with the street name changing to North Street. This town is somewhat Braintree-like, but a has a higher residential-to-commercial ratio and is somewhat more attractive.

One more sociological note on my hometown: Beginning in the early part of this century, immigrants, many from Italy, came there to work in the factories. This resulted in a cleavage, still apparent in my day, concerning the Sacco-Vanzetti affair between the Yankees (who knew those anarchists got what they had coming to them) and the Italians (who knew that it was a terrible miscarriage of justice). After World War II, a flow from Boston to the suburbs added another, middle class bloc, and the town changed from Republican to Democratic. Nowadays you could say that Campanelli and Messina "own" the town, a transition that would have shocked the Adamses and other landed gentry of yore.

I saw a lot of smaller homes (including one with a sign "The Murphys"). Then I passed an entrance way to the East Randolph Industrial Park and observed Lindwood Cemetery - very scenic, with much open land. This is immediately followed by Central Cemetery, founded in 1713 and "open to all faiths", which was advertising spaces.

On the right, I had a view of the Randolph Ice Arena and Belcher Park. (I did not see any trace of the railroad track that appears here on the maps.) Next, on the left, came still another cemetery, St. Mary's "serving the Catholic Community since 1845".

In death as in life: Segregation by faith is common. And the rich have bigger structures than the poor.

Continuing past more residences, I noted a North Street bus shelter, indicating that the buses I had seen go by were on MBTA Route 238 (Quincy to Randolph). I mistakenly (as I found out while composing this account) thought that I had once taken this for a walk that began in Crawford Square; it was actually the 240 bus that I had been on. (Crawford Square appears to be what I call an "MBTA name", not being found in other maps or sources.)

After going by a condo complex with a yard sale sign, I realized that I was supposed to take a right somewhere and crossed the street. On seeing Short Street, I realized that I had missed my turn at Cottage Street. Accordingly, I took Short, going north on Ward Street and then west on Cottage, passing small, older homes and exchanging greetings with a man working on a garden. (The reason for this digression was to avoid repetition on Route 28, from a past walk, and on Route 139, on a future walk.)

At North Main Street (Route 28), I saw an office of the Brockton Credit Union and looked across the street for Allen Court. Not seeing it, I went north for a short distance, passing the Malai Thai Restaurant (I wondered if the owners were aware of the My Lai massacre, but it looked prosperous enough) and taking Depot Road.

I saw no sign of a depot or even of the railroad tracks shown on the map. But I did find Allen Court, a short residential dead end street. (The Arrow map might lead one to misbelieve, as I had, that it connects with North Main. Arrow's atlas clearly shows that it does not.)

Following the curve of Depot, I observed some commercial properties (stores and/or warehouses) on the right, as well as a street not on the map. Coming to an intersection, I was somewhat confused and had to check the map to see that I was to cross Route 139 (Warren Street) and take Highland Avenue.

From a phone in front of an almost mini-mall (with an antique store and a veterans' lodge) on the left, I tried to leave a message for Cathy (as I do on these walks), but my long distance access number kept giving me a busy signal. (How can a phone company be busy? But I do recommend Working Assets, which supports numerous environmental, civil rights and other left-wing causes.)

On my left, first I went by a shopping mall, with a Shaw's, then by the back end, so to speak, of Randolph High School, where two men were working on the grounds. The right side, and the rest, of this street contained nice, older homes.

Highland tees into Stoughton Street, where I turned west. I observed vacant land to the south that might have been public, though there is no park or the like indicated on my maps. This quiet residential street turns, according to the map, into Wales Avenue at the Avon border, which I shortly reached.

But Wales turned out to be a dirt trail in the woods. I kept on. As usual when this happens, I was glad for the scenic change (and the opportunity for a comfort stop) but somewhat concerned about the potential for getting lost (and the annoyance of insects).

Consulting my Arrow map, I saw that toward the right lay "Three Mile Swamp". That seemed ominous; but it might mean I could collect a new locality. Alas, I was about to be deluded by another Arrow error.

Come on Arrow, get on the Internet! Then I can e-mail you about all your mistakes. But seriously, folks, Arrow makes pretty good maps, and their atlas is much better than Universal's.

It was only a matter of minutes before I began leaving the forest, coming upon a tar pile on my left and seeing a sand and gravel works to the distance on my right. The trail ended at a gate, and I began to wonder if I was inadvertently treading on private property. Various commercial enterprises lay ahead, and the swamp was nowhere to be seen.

However, it seemed clear that I was on a public road, and I took its southerly course, correctly believing that I was continuing on course, bound for Page Street. I noticed a number of Edart rental trucks; this turned out to be because I was walking past their headquarters. A number of factories and other business went by as I kept wondering what had happened to the swamp. (Perhaps I was influenced by the fact that the plan for this walk had not appeared to lead to any new localities, unless I got as far south as West Bridgewater.)

I reached a crossroads, where a large sign evidently listed the firms who were on Boutwell Street Extension. I had to check the map to realize that Boutwell was the intersecting way and that Wales (my course) went straight ahead. I therefore started that way, proceeding uphill. Then I looked at the map again and saw that the body of water lying in the swamp locality must be somewhere north on Boutwell. In the interest of adding another place name, I authorized a slight detour and went back to the junction and up Boutwell.

Here I passed more businesses, including an abandoned storehouse for lease. One of the firms was Aqua-Leisure Industries, recently in the news for illegal Dole for President contributions. On my right I glimpsed some kind of wetlands behind the buildings. I could still see no signs of the pond or river indicated on the map, but I decided to make one attempt. Noting a lot that might have some kind of access to the swamp area, I cut through it, pretending I didn't see the two trucks who were coming in and out, a "defense" against trespassing charges. But, though they must have wondered what I was doing, no one said anything.

At the edge of the lot there was clearly no trail and the forest-like ground seemed impenetrable, even if I had wished to try it, which I didn't. (I have sometimes foolishly attempted to cross swamps that were on my route, but this one wasn't.) I decided that I had reached the edge of the swamp and, having set one foot onto it, I could consider that I had been to this new locality. So I went back to the road and trudged uphill, quickly reaching Page Street.

To the northeast lay undeveloped land, though I could not see the pond, stream, or whatever the Arrow map features represented. In checking their atlas that night, I noted that the map I was using has an error that Arrow perhaps has corrected, since their Atlas has it right. There is some body of water (also shown on the Universal atlas and, in a rather smaller form, on the USGS map) and a "Three Swamp Brook". Although my policy has been not to consider streams as localities and not to deem bodies of water "collected" unless I have not only seen but actually been beside them (whatever that means), I am reconsidering the former and, as to the latter, surely my good efforts deserve an exception in this case.

Here I first noted an interesting phenomenon. Most towns have commemorative signs denoting a "Square" (rarely some other appellation), usually in honor of veterans, but sometimes honoring other worthies. As place names, these are really marginal (their status being somewhat closer to street, than to locality, names), but I have been collecting these, too, lately.

Avon uses for this purposes large "scroll signs" similar to those wonderful "Entering Sometown" ones that the Commonwealth puts on state highways. Not only are these attractive, but their size makes them easy to recognize. At this point, then, I found Pillarella Square, which the relatively large size of the Avon marker allowed identification as "Philip and Sue Pillarella, dedicated town officials".

As a dedicated municipal official myself, I cannot help but admire this method of rewarding good service. I hope my addition of "Internet immortality" to these proclamations renders this honorific endeavor a little more effective!

Across the street to the right were a Dunkin Donuts and a D'Angelo's. Although breakfast would have been welcome at this point (it was after 10:30), I try to avoid chain eateries nor did their fare seem at that moment appealing. Besides, I try to avoid diversions, and even crossing the street, just to get food, when this would add to the walk time, be it ever (as in this case) so slightly.

Accordingly, I turned south on Page, a mostly residential thoroughfare with some open space. I passed by the Curtis Family Cemetery (1812- 1856) and Mennino's Horticultural Packaging - the latter obviously of interest to a City of Boston employee. (An informant has indicated that this place packs mushrooms.)

At the junction with West High Street was a marker for Carmenale Puopolo Square, honoring a World War I POW. I passed some more houses and a playground with moms and kids. A sign on someone's yard exhorted "Support Our Schools" at the upcoming town meeting. (But if you're reading this from Avon, it is much too late!)

Next, at Pond, came Colter Square, honoring Thomas J. Colter, a "dedicated town official". I am fond of variety, so this phrase was beginning to grate already! I noted some large rocks abutting the sign and the lawn of a nice home on the corner, where my route turned.

I now went east on Pond Street, a stretch that I will repeat on a future "West from Avon" walk. As this joins North Main Street (a continuation of Randolph's Main Street), I saw Avon High School.

Turning south on North Main, I began to think that the prospects for lunch were not going to be good, reasoning (quite incorrectly, if not actually stupidly) that restaurants would locate themselves not on this street but along East Main - Memorial Drive - Montello Street (i.e., Route 28). Proceeding by both commercial and residential properties, I came to West Sping Street. Right here is, as I remembered from a prior walk from Sharon to Rockland, an apparently abandoned strip mall, with a phone that (I recollected after trying to use it) was out of order on that occasion, also.

I repeated a small portion of that walk to Harrison Boulevard, where a scenic topiary spells out AVON. Here came Gunnar Peterson Square, named after a Swedish-born "dedicated town official". Passing by more residences, I saw an "Entering Brockton", at the junction of East Main Street. (Checking the map here, I noted that a "Southeast from Avon" walk would be possible.) Just before this, however, Avon managed to get in one more of its commemorative signs, declaring the intersection to be Charles Strunello Square, in honor of a Marine killed in Vietnam in 1968.

Just over the line, moreover, was an even more welcome sign, reading "Dairy Queen". On a warm day, what could make for a better breakfast or lunch?

I knew just what I wanted: a coconut isle, a favorite of my youth. Such is the lack of constancy in the world, however, that this sundae no longer seems to exist. I had to settle for a Hawaiian blizzard, tasty and refreshing enough but not the same. As I set on a ledge (this place making no provision for dining), I wondered whether this was the Dairy Queen that we used to patronize when I lived in Braintree. I remembered our next door neighbor taking my brother and me there (a tip of the Internet hat to Harold Brahm, now deceased). On the whole, the location did not seem right nor the building old enough, but it could have been.

Resuming the walk, with three hours now gone, I was just about where I had expected to be. The game plan was to go south for two hours more and then return north for two hours to get a BAT bus. I had been hoping to get as far as Bridgewater; as usual, my plan was over-optimistic.

Already, as I traversed North Main, I had been having a kind of déjà vu about having walked this road before. Gradually, the explanation dawned: Years ago I had walked south from Avon to Bridgewater on Route 28 and then back to Brockton; the return trip had been made on Main Street rather further north than the BAT terminal. How far I had gone then and where I had turned I no longer recalled.

In fact, it took longer that it should for me to realize that Main Street (not Montello) is indeed the main street in Brockton. So my planned route would involve a fairly long repetition, covering downtown Brockton, a prospect not exactly thrilling. Still, much as I hate duplicating this way, I decided not to re-route.

Under my rules, I could have and should have made a divergence at the point on Main from which I that I had left it before. But I doubted I could identify the spot, nor did I. Also, I supposed it might be interesting - which it wasn't - to see if this urban scene was still as bad as newspaper reports and my former observation indicated.

As one goes from Avon to Brockton, entering the Montello section, one finds more streets and denser houses. Gradually, the residential flavor becomes more mixed with commercial properties. And, by the time downtown nears, there is a procession of churches (many of the storefront variety), social service agencies, social and political organizations (NAACP, Nation of Islam, Laborers Union, YWCA), small scale and decaying business (whose appearance, and the number of boarded up ones, indicates that all businesess that could have fled to the malls), settlement homes and the ilk - all in all, a tedious and depressing panorama, whose details the reader will be spared, at least to the degree that my note-taking failed.

I did see one faint hint of an upturn: At a mini-square north of the center of town I stopped to admire a four-faced street clock, all in good order (rebuilt? one imagines they don't make these any more). On the other end of the spectrum, I saw a city agency notice "unfit for human habitation" on an apartment building, adjacent to which was another apartment building, not looking any better, with vacancies advertised.

I passed Ashland Cemetery, locked up and unkempt; the fact that there is also an Ashland Street made me wonder about a possible place name. (But a check of Omni Gazetteer shows nothing except an Ashland School.) Teresa's Syriac-Maronite Catholic Church, with much votive statuary, was somewhat attractive in a "cutesy" way.

Somewhere around here I finally saw something that I was sure I remembered from before: an out of business supermarket, in purple and white. A sign proclaimed that the city housing authority was "Rebuilding Brockton" here - a daunting task, I thought.

Nearing the center, I crossed Routes 27 and 123. The former I have completed entirely; two legs of that project started from Brockton. Likewise, I have done 123 east to its terminus and west to Attleboro, both times starting in Brockton.

Downtown, I saw various government buildings and the Brockton Enterprise. The Tea House of the Almighty looked so intriguing that I crossed the street to look, seeing no tea but a lot of psychic books. On the next block was Antonio's, a middling family restaurant that I ate at on a former walk; later, from the bus, I would see a sign that made me think there has been a change of ownership.

The idea that I could walk through Brockton without finding restaurants seemed by this point particularly inane, and some of the breakfast-lunch places appeared more than tolerable, but it was too late now. Likewise, I kept thinking about getting off this depressing repeat route, but I decided to continue with it. Noting that I was not going to get as far south as I had hoped, I decided that I would extend the time allotment, if needed, so that I would get to West Bridgewater, at least (i.e., out of Brockton!). My return route, already rather hazy in my memory, would probably have to be altered.

At length, I went by the BAT terminal, not to mention its block mates - Tex Barry's Chili Dogs, the Wah Sum Restaurant, and Sweeney's Bar. Main Street continued to provide more churches (including another Catholic one with an "eastern" appearance), social agencies, and the like, until a more residential pattern began to emerge in the southern part of the Campello section. I actually noticed one relatively good looking renovated old building - the Kingman Block, which houses Arnie's Eclectic Speed Café, doing its best to look trendy and inspiring my sympathy for its consequently out-of-place appearance.

Finally, where Route 28 leaves Montello Street in favor of Main Street, I reached my planned turning point and took Lyon Avenue, feeling especially relieved at being able to take in new territory and sights not marked by commercial clutter. As I went down this very short and narrow thoroughfare, with small, older, far from grand homes, I experienced a sensation that I frequently get on my walks: uniqueness. I can believe that someone (maybe!) walked all the way from Braintree Five Corners to this point in Brockton; but surely, even if so and even if (which is scarcely believable, however) that person happened to follow the very path that I had taken, no one would ever have then taken this side street!

Indeed, Lyons led me on a cicuitous path, via Rutland Square, to Market Street, which I pursued to Warren Street. Here I turned south and saw on my right a playground, with two ball games (one for guys, one for girls) in process. Behind this was the Nelson Junior High School.

I had been somewhat improvising my route, and I stopped where Warren ends at Clifton Street to examine the map and figure out a new plan, since "two hours south" had just about been reached already. I decided that I should not go any further west and instead would take Copeland Street south, even though this would involve a little repetition from a prior walk. I would go west on reaching West Bridgewater, proceed to Matfield (a new locality), and then return north to Brockton. I might even still be able to catch the 3:45 bus as planned, although that was probably too optimistic. (Without looking at the BAT schedule in my pack, I assumed that buses would be plentiful after 4:00 PM anyhow.)

As I then went west on Clifton, I cursed myself for not having got anything to drink while on Main Street, for I was getting quite dehydrated. I had, foolishly but characteristically, passed by many establishments that could have served this purpose but rejected all of them as too crowded or unattractive. Now, the likelihood of finding any such place in this residential area was clearly small.

Everyone tells me to carry a water flask, but I stubbornly resist such an encumbrance. I do carry a small aseptic package of juice (as well as an "emergency ration" food, usually crackers and/or a Power Bar), but I try not consume that liquid unless there is no hope for alternative sources or until I am in the last hour of the walk (the latter provision based on the fact that there will have to be an opportunity at the ending point). In this case, I wound up not using these reserves.

At Copeland Street, I turned south. Even if one did not have the specter of downtown Brockton just behind, this is a pleasant looking area, with older homes, some of them rather fine. On my left, I could discern traces of this formerly being farm country. Indeed, at one point I saw a field with two horses in it. I passed the King Leather Works, the only commercial intrusion thereabouts, whose status as an ongoing business seemed a little unclear from all the strange objects outside.

At the intersection with Southworth Street and Brookside Avenue, I was now repeating the former walk alluded to above, having taken the latter from Copeland on my northern return. The homes here are very nice. On my right I observed the Brockton Country Club and the Wedgewood Country Club, thinking that the latter was actually part of the former. (Neither should be confused with the Pine Valley Country Club, accessed via Country Club Drive off Copeland, but whose course is located over the West Bridgewater border.)

Finally, with over five hours gone, I reached West Bridgewater, which begins (unmarked) at the junction of Copeland with West Elm Street. I had come north on the latter before; so I was on new territory again as I turned east with Copeland. There was a gas station on this corner, but, alas, I could see not even a soda machine, much less one of the mini-stores seen in the newer of such businesses. I told myself that there had better be some place to get a drink where I was to cross Route 28; if not, I would have to continue down it (repeating a walk and forcing another course change!) until I found one.

The former agricultural nature was very apparent here. On my left I had a view of field, with Route 28 and the West Shopping Plaza visible in this distance. And I even passed a barn with a sign announcing horse auctions every Monday night and bales of hay for sale at $4.00. But I saw neither horses nor hay, just junk, old autos and tractors, etc.

Copeland here contains many houses, mostly rather new, as indicated by the presence of a side street not on the map. Just before the Pine Hill Cemetery (a spacious, relatively modern and attractive institution), I noticed a small woods with a trail, on the right hand side. I crossed the street and went down it, seeking the opportunity for a comfort stop and generally curious. Where it leads I had to leave to some (unplanned) future occasion, as there was no time for exploration after my primary mission had been accomplished.

Returning to Copeland, I found a sign designating this as a "Stewardship Forest", a joint state-federal endeavor. This was clearly denoted a concept or program, not a locality, but surely this little woodland must have some kind of name?

Now I was at another North Main Street (Route 28). Was there a place to get a sorely needed drink? Yes, right ahead lay Dutchers Drive-Thru, a quaint establishment, with a faded and rather dilapidated "windmill" on its roof.

I tried the front door, but it did not open. It took me a while to observe the mats reading "No Entrance" amd realize that this was a drive-thru only. There being no apparent alternative, I went around to the back and got in line behind a van. I felt more than a little foolish, but the person who sold me my beverage (a Kiwi-Strawberry Snapple, my choice from the more than ample list on a sign) gave no indication of a walk-thru being out of the ordinary.

Returning to the road, I went south, carrying my drink, Dutcher's making no provision for trash disposal and not being in the mood to rest anyhow, to Matfield Street. On the right, I again observed Pine Hill Cemetery, with many visitors.

The Universal atlas incorrectly shows Pine Crest Road continuing to North Main and meeting Copeland. Atlas and Butterworth both have this properly shown on their maps.

I was now at Matfield Corner, having done still another small repeat on Route 28. (From the viewpoint of collecting localities, I assumed - rather doubtfully - that Matfield Corner is not actually in Matfield, the latter lying to its east. In preparing this page, though, I found support for this theory from the U.S. Geological Survey, which has more Matfield place names in Massachusetts than the Matfields, Matfieldians, or whoever, may know about.) Here there were two restaurants, but no trash barrels. I will not litter and have gone over an hour carrying a soda can. So I walked down Matfield Street with my now empty bottle.

On my left, I passed a small cemetery with graves dating back to the early nineteenth century, then houses. On the right were a field and then a woods, both with No Trespassing signs. As I passed more residences, I began to fantasize about putting the container in a mailbox or on top of one of the piles of newspapers that I observed. Then virtue was rewarded: I saw an empty house for sale with a rubbish bin in front!

At the junction with East Street, noting the mundanely named Corner Store, I bore north with Matfield. I was tiring somewhat and no longer believed I would make the 3:45 bus.

Continuing through this residential area, past two side streets (Vital Avenue and Cyr Street), I discerned construction in the distance. Soon I was crossing the track for the restored Middleboro MBTA commuter rail. (The construction seemed to involve pipes, not the railroad itself.) A cop on detail agreed with me that its shiny "brand-new" appearance was quite impressive. This would be the location for a Matfield station, if there were to be such a thing. (As it is, there is not, this point being about halfway between the Campello and Bridgewater stops.)

Just past this crossing, I left Matfield Street to go north on Belmont Street, another residential thoroughfare. I noted the Stonecroft Farm - nice looking, but the only agricultural sight (if that) was a solitary horse.

I continued by more homes to the intersection with Plain Street and Pleasant Street. On the corner was a store advertising "Paintball - the Sport of the 90's". Across the Corner were a nursery and the East Bridgewater border. Following my custom, I went slightly off course down Belmont just past the town line sign, just so I could add this municipality to today's list. (I first did West Bridgewater and East Bridgewater years ago in a circular walk beginning and ending in Brockton.) As I did so, I noted that the land across the street was for sale.

Then I returned to West Bridgewater and went north on Plain, a street lined with small houses. I was almost dragging by this point, but later along this street I got a second wind. I was still hoping I could make my time - not that there was any reason for it, other than the satisfaction (which does motivate me) of actualizing my game plan.

As I crossed the Brockton line, I noticed that the homes were indistinguishable from the ones in West Bridgewater. Somewhere to my right, in vacant land beyond the mostly fenced property lines, lies a triple point, where Brockton, East Bridgewater and West Bridgewater meet. I have only walked over two such points in all my journeys, but there was no time for an excursion to this one, which in any case seemed inaccessible.

I passed the Davis School, an elementary and kindergarten institution. On my left, following a fairly large patch of vacant land with some indications of development, I saw the Town Plaza Condominiums, wondering why anyone would want to live in this large, ugly brick building in the middle of nowhere.

To my left lay the railroad tracks, and I could see some kind of industrial plaza. I remembered from my walk south on Route 28, quite some years ago, seeing a sign indicating the future site of the Campello commuter rail station and planning a yet to be taken walk south from there. The route for this would have gone down Plain Street, a course now "forbidden" due to my having already taken it. (But in consulting the map that evening, I decided that alternative passages make that walk still possible. I also determined that west from Campello and southeast from Campello are definite and south and southeast possible. It also seemed that the station, of which I could see no glimpse, must be further north.)

I turned now onto Summer Street, from which I quickly turned again, taking a twisting course through Otto Street, Auburn Street and Forest Street, all with dense, small residences. The plan was to walk north, on this side of the tracks, so to speak, until it was time the turn west to the BAT terminal. There was the slight problem that I did not know where that turn should be made: I had forgotten (not for the first time) to take note of which side street off Main the terminal is on.

At Perkins Street, I saw a large, rather strange institutional-looking building, perhaps rather fine in its day, but looking rather forlorn and unoccupied now, with a sign reading "Walkaround". I kept on Forest. This ends at the Daniel J. Binkley Playground. My assumption that I could cut through this was verified by a path's appearing; and I followed this, past a school ahead, vacant land on the right, and kids playing on the left, to Clinton Street. I was glad that this shortcut had worked out, still being concerned about the time.

After some more homes, I entered "industrial Brockton", a region of factories, warehouses, and the like. Inasmuch as most of my walking observations are residences, I rather enjoy such commercial areas as a change of pace; and they are, indeed, more varied in some ways.

Few, if any, of these business looked prosperous and some buildings were run-down or abandoned. A rather nice looking exception, a brick and stone building, dated 1919, had a sign reading "Signature Apparel".

The railroad was on my left again, and I could see landmarks beyond it. On noting the spire of the "eastern"-looking church I had seen on my way south, I felt somewhat upset, for I estimated that it was still almost half an hour to downtown. It was already after 3:30.

Following what was now Curve Street, with residences on my right, I took my BAT schedule out of my pack and learned that there were 4:00 and 4:30 buses. The former seemed barely possible, but more likely I would just miss it. I decided I would turn west when I got to Franklin Street, balancing the the bane of repitition against the undesirability of missing my time by going too far north.

More commercial properties appeared, and I passed the LeBaron Foundry, seeing (I suppose) its "industrial casings" in its lot. Whatever these are, their production appears to involve bad smells and a lot of noise.

Suddenly I saw a familiar (?TV) tower that I knew is a few blocks north of the terminal. This made me decide to turn west, down a street whose name Brockton decided not to give out at this point. On my left was the Capri Ice Cream Company. (This is the second small ice cream establshment with a name I have never heard of that I have walked by. Query: Do these make ice cream for non-consumer markets, distribute stuff that other people produce, or what?)

I crossed the railroad tracks. A street sign told me that I was on Franklin - just as I had meant to be!

This is another commercial area. I noticed The Ice House, which had signs reading "24 hours". Making a mental note of this wonderful resource in case I am ever in Brockton and need ice at two in the morning, I proceeded.

Before I knew it, I hit North Main Street, recognizing a tavern on the left-hand corner. I was convinced that I still had quite a way to go north and was altogether angry that there was no option other than to re-traverse my very same path from the morning before (on the very same side of the street, also! Oh, the horrors of it!). (I had intended to take Montello, a repeat but not a double one, but had inexplicably not recognized it as the street I passed just after the railroad tracks.)

But I soon realized that the situation was not that bad. It turned out to be less than ten minutes to the BAT station. As I pulled into it, it was just 4:00. Could I make the bus?

I remembered which space is for the Ashmont bus and saw people lined up getting on it. What luck! After getting on, I got an up to date schedule. (Are you reading this, MBTA? BAT has little pockets on the fare collection boxes that dispense schedules.) I learned that the 4:00 bus was now the 4:05 bus. Fortune had smiled, giving me just enough time to make it.

Brockton Area Transportation appears to be a well-run authority. But they should get a Web site! And I wish they had the courage to call their vehicles BATmobiles.

BAT is one of those transportation systems (RITPA is another) that runs all of their buses out of the same central point. Perhaps for safety reasons, all BAT buses leave at the same time. This gives the starter the opportunity to announce "The buses are leaving" - an almost dramatic scene. It seems to me that they should also have a horn or a trumpet for this ritual.

Overall, this was not too interesting a walk, being of the type that mostly offers different ways of walking in areas already covered, though I did take in (maybe stretching a bit) some new localities. While I do not mean to malign Brockton (which would be like kicking someone who is already down), I am glad that I have no more walks planned that end at the BAT terminal. (There is at least one more beginning there, however.)

Name: South from Braintree Five Corners

Path: Braintree - West Bridgewater - Brockton

Note: Via Matfield

Date: June 4, 1997

Time: 7.5 hours

Weather: Sunny, with cool breezes; in 60's; at times, uncomfortably warm

Roadkill: bird (?starling) in Randolph

Municipalities: Braintree, Randolph, Avon, Brockton, West Bridgewater, East Bridgewater

Localities: Braintree Five Corners, South Braintree, Randolph, Three Swamp Brook, Pillarella Square, Puopolo Square, Gunnerson Square, Strunello Square, Montello, Campello, Matfield Corner, Matfield

Highlight: Dutcher's Drive-Thru

Lowlight: Repeating North Main Street in Brockton

New walks: SE from Avon
West from end of Brockton line bus (MBTA 230)
West from Campello

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