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HERE’S A CLOSE-UP LOOK AT FENWAY PARK

5/5/2021

If you are sitting in Fenway Park for Northeastern’s 2021 Commencement —or visiting virtually— you are experiencing the oldest active stadium in Major League Baseball and home to the Boston Red Sox. The park holds a special place in the hearts of generations of Bostonians, as families have seen the Red Sox struggle and triumph in the shadow of the Green Monster, the iconic 37-foot left field wall. Let’s take a look at some of the history and lore of the park that the author John Updike famously dubbed a “lyric little bandbox.”

Before Fenway
Northeastern has a direct connection to the Red Sox and Fenway Park. Huntington Grounds, located in the area between the present-day Cabot Center and the William E. Carter playground, was one of two large ballparks in baseball-crazed, turn-of-the century Boston. It was the home of the American League Boston team from its inception in 1901 until Fenway Park was built in 1912. The first World Series was played on Huntington Grounds in 1903, and the legendary Cy Young pitched the first perfect game there in 1904 (a statue commemorating Young stands on the south side of Cabot, where the pitcher’s mound used to be).

Fenway Park
Red Sox owner John I. Taylor built Fenway Park just north of Huntington Grounds in an urban marsh area of Boston known as the Fens. To fit in Boston’s compact streetscape, the park had to be constructed on an asymmetrical city block, and as a result sported several unique quirks and features, some of which remain to this day. Perhaps the most iconic feature is the legendary “Green Monster” wall in left field. While part of the original 1912 construction, the wall has been altered significantly during its lifetime. Originally, the wall was covered with advertisements and billboards. A small embankment in front of the wall was known as “Duffy’s Cliff” (named for an outfielder who was particularly skillful at playing the area) was sometimes used for overflow seating during important games.

After a fire in 1933, the wall was rebuilt, Duffy’s Cliff was removed, and a hand operated scoreboard was added, which is still in use today. During renovations in 1947 (which also included an upper deck and lights for night games), the wall was painted green but it was only in the 1960s and ‘70s that fans started referring to it as the “Green Monster.” The exterior of the wall has been covered in various materials over the years, including wood and metal, and is currently clad in a green plastic compound. The inside of the wall is covered in signatures and graffiti from players past and present.

Fenway has hosted nearly a dozen World Series championships. Three All-Star games have been played there.

Beyond Baseball
The proportions of Fenway made it an ideal choice for football, and the Boston Redskins of the National Football League team played there from 1933 to 1936 until they moved to Washington D.C. The Boston Patriots football team played at Fenway In the 1960s until the league was reorganized and the team moved to Foxboro, Massachusetts to become the New England Patriots.

By the 1990s, serious discussions about replacing Fenway Park with something more modern were underway. A grassroots “Save Fenway Park” movement began, allowing time for a new ownership group led by John Henry to take over and make the decision to renovate and extend the life of Fenway Park rather than replace it. New seating and luxury amenities were added, original infrastructure was upgraded, and premium seating was added to the top of the Green Monster.

In an effort to make the old park more profitable, the ownership has hosted sports such as soccer, lacrosse, Irish hurling, and concerts by artists such as The Who, The Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen and Dave Matthews. Fenway has also recently seen winter service as an outdoor venue for college and NHL Winter Classic hockey games. When COVID-19 vaccines became available earlier this year, the Massachusetts government used Fenway Park as one of several mass vaccination sites.

THE HUSKY MASCOT EMERGED FROM A MASS VACCINATION EFFORT

10/26/21

The Northeastern Husky mascot has a storied history going back nearly 100 years, including a long line of canines that retired as sled dogs and joined the university as live mascots. Here’s the story of the Northeastern Husky, replete with vintage photographs that underscore how deep the mascot is engrained in school spirit.

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Why a Husky?
Northeastern had no mascot until 1927 after momentum grew to find a fitting symbol for school spirit. Animal mascots were in vogue during the 1920s and one story that gripped the nation was the rush delivery of a diphtheria antitoxin serum by dog sled across uncharted Alaska. Several sled teams led by huskies covered 674 miles in less than a week to deliver the vaccine, thus saving Nome, Alaska, and the surrounding isolated communities from an impending epidemic.

In short, the husky was a superstar and Northeastern chose its mascot. On March 4, 1927, a husky named Sapsut, whose father had been on the team during the Alaska run, was delivered to the university by Leonhard Seppala, one of the Alaskan serum run’s lead mushers. Then Northeastern president Frank Speare canceled classes on the day of his arrival and presented him as the new mascot in a university-wide celebration. Sapsut was given an honorary degree and named King Husky. He served for 14 years as the mascot and died of old age in 1941.

New kings and turnover on the throne
The next long-serving mascot was King Husky II, who came from a long line of sled and exploration dogs. King Husky II served as Northeastern’s mascot for 10 years until he retired in 1952.

Here come Mr. and Mrs. Husky
In 1960 “Mr. Husky” was born. Set up as an election-style competition, one male student was awarded the title and would wear a husky suit to sporting events. Later in the 1960s, Mrs. Husky was introduced, becoming an official co-mascot.

The Husky Statue Fund Drive began in the late 1950s to install a statue depicting the beloved King Husky I. Sculpted by Adio di Biccari and Arcangelo Cascieri, the statue was installed in 1962 in Ell Hall, where it remains to this day. Tradition holds that rubbing the husky’s nose will bring good luck in the coming academic year and the bronze statue’s nose shows distinct signs of wear from hopeful students over the years.

Return of the live king
In 1965, the graduating class of 1970 decided to raise funds to buy a new canine mascot for the school with the stipulation that the dog would “graduate” with the class. King Husky V served as the live mascot for five years until the class of 1970 graduated.

Introducing Paws
In the fall of 2003, Northeastern unveiled Paws—a new, updated, costumed mascot designed to replace the student-elected Mr. and Mrs. Husky. Paws proved to be a fun and popular character and maintains an active appearance schedule.

A new beginning
In 2005, Northeastern looked to return to its tradition of having a live mascot. Margaret Cook, a 1964 graduate of the university’s liberal arts program and breeder of Siberian Huskies at Teeco Kennels in Easton, Massachusetts, answered the call. Three of Cook’s huskies have worn the crown since 2005. The current king, called Moses, frequently makes appearances on campus. If you’re lucky, you’ll see Moses with puppies in tow.

HERE’S WHAT BOSTON LOOKED LIKE AFTER A DEADLY WAVE OF MOLASSES SWALLOWED THE NORTH END

01/15/19

Tuesday marks the 100th anniversary of the Great Molasses Flood, which killed 21 people in Boston’s North End when a storage tank ruptured and sent more than 2 million gallons of the thick liquid crashing through the cobblestone streets of the historic neighborhood.

Photos of the aftermath of the flood were captured by The Boston Globe, which donated its vast archive of newspaper clippings, photographs, and negatives of unpublished photos to Northeastern in 2018. Take a look.

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January 15, 1919 was unseasonably warm. Temperatures reached the 40s and people of all ages gathered along the waterfront in the North End to eat lunch and enjoy the sunshine.

At approximately 12:30 p.m., a 50-foot-tall storage tank belonging to the United States Industrial Alcohol Corporation exploded and released more than 2 million gallons of molasses on to the cobblestone streets of the North End. Workers and schoolchildren heard a “tremendous crash and a deep growling” and were quickly overcome by a 40-foot wave of viscous liquid that traveled 30 MPH and engulfed everything in its path. Workers, animals, trains, and trucks were swept along by the thick, sugary tsunami, which pulled buildings from their foundations and ripped pilings from the elevated train tracks above Commercial Street. Twenty-one people were killed and 150 more were injured, including many who suffered brain injuries and broken limbs.

“Fragments of the great tank were thrown into the air, buildings in the neighborhood began to crumple up as though the underpinnings had been pulled away from them, and scores of people in the various buildings were buried in the ruins, some dead and others badly injured.”— Boston Globe

The molasses flood leveled homes, shipping docks, warehouses, and Engine 31 of Boston’s Fire Department. Food, pigs, and barrels of beer were swept up in the wave of molasses that crashed through the streets and hardened into a solid mass by nightfall. Firemen were crushed and killed under the weight of the fire station, which was flattened within seconds by the rush of goop. Houses made of wood along Commercial street were reduced to kindling, while brick buildings sustained significant damage. Copp’s Hill, which is located on the far side of Commercial Street, created a natural barrier that helped contain the disaster to the waterfront neighborhood.

The elevated railroad along Commercial Street collapsed and an alert conductor prevented an inbound train from plunging into the abyss of sugar and syrup. The lack of electrical equipment available at the time made cleanup difficult, and it took days before officials were able to assess the full extent of the damage and determine the death toll.

More than 100 lawsuits were filed against the United States Industrial Alcohol Company, whose lawyers argued that Italian anarchists had bombed the tank. A judge eventually ruled that the disaster was the result of shoddy design and construction of the tank and ordered the United States Industrial Alcohol Corporation to pay about $630,000 in settlements. The tank had been leaking for years (the Industrial Alcohol Corporation had even gone so far as to paint the tank brown in an effort to cover up the many leaks along the seams) and workers at the distilling company said that the tank was unsafe.

The United States Industrial Alcohol Corporation received a large shipment of molasses from Cuba a few days before the disaster and filled the tank to near capacity. The tank was built during World War 1, as part of a program to support the war effort. Inspections were rare and quality control was lax back then and the molasses flood led directly to improved construction and workplace safety regulations.

All that remains of the Great Boston Molasses Disaster is a small plaque at the entrance to a waterfront park in the North End that reads:

“On January 15, 1919, a molasses tank at 529 Commercial Street exploded under pressure, killing 21 people. A 40-foot wave of molasses buckled the elevated railroad tracks, crushed buildings and inundated the neighborhood. Structural defects in the tank combined with unseasonably warm temperatures contributed to the disaster.”

Local legend has it that on particularly warm days, you can still smell the faint aroma of molasses seeping up from the streets of the old North End.