I was traveling up Aunt Molly Road on my way to a party celebrating the indictment of the most corrupt person in the country, if not the world, when I said to myself: “Who is Aunt Molly?”
Historians can often capture information about the past by scrutinizing place names like towns and streets.
In pursuit of Aunt Molly, I contacted Doug Dixon of the Hopewell Valley History Project. Dixon directed me to page 188 of Hopewell: A Historical Geography (Hunter & Porter. 1990).
There I found out that Aunt Molly Road was named for Molly Titus, owner of the farm and sawmill located on this road during the late 19th century.
So, after all, it wasn’t derived from the Little Richard classic, “Good Golly Miss Molly.”
My off-handed curiosity and unprofessional speculation about local place names opened up not a can of worms, but rather a massive resource of books and newsletters about local history.
* * *
Most any kindergartner can tell you that Washington Crossing is named for the difficult traversing of the Delaware River by George Washington preceding his crucial victory at the Battle of Trenton. And most everyone in the area knows that Hart Avenue is named for John Hart, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence and a Revolutionary War hero. But what about everywhere else?
Provinceline Road once marked the line between East and West Jersey, a divide that existed in the late 17th century.
Dublin Road housed a settlement of 19th century Irish railroad workers and was not a salute to James Joyce.
Model Avenue, according to Doug Dixon, was supposedly named for the public school built there in 1888, a “model” school.
Seminary Avenue was named after the Hopewell Seminary (duh!), built in 1865.
Prominent local families of the past provided the names for Marshall’s Corner, Search, Burd, VanDyke, and Blackwell Roads. Surprisingly, Cleveland Lane is named for Grover Cleveland, the 22nd and 24th U.S. president, and not for the Grover of Sesame Street.
Among the more scenic thoroughfares in the area is Crusher Road, which I always assumed was named for a professional wrestler. Wrong! It refers to Cope’s stone crusher, a machine that operated at what is now the Quarry swimming area.
Pleasant Valley Road on a bike is only pleasant going downhill. Uphill it’s thoroughly unpleasant.
I incorrectly thought that Poor Farm Road was named for its crappy soil. But, no, it was the location of the town-operated farm set up in 1821 to house the poor and homeless. This “Pauper House” survived until 1951.
Similarly descriptive Moore’s Mill, Old Mill, Titus Mill, and Snook’s Mill (defunct) identified the sites of grist or saw mills.
Woosamonsa Road is derived from the Lenni Lenape word for place of wrinkled or shriveled trees. Despite a comprehensive search, I could not find the tree.
I also couldn’t find John Hart’s Cave where the Revolutionary War hero hid out from the British according to the historical marker on Lindbergh Road. When I waded into the woods, all I found were boulders and thorns.
Princeton Avenue is, of course, named after the [late] artist formerly known as Prince.
And as everyone knows Route 31 is named after 19th century cult leader Ezekiel “Thirty-one” Zeck, so nicknamed for the number of wives he had, all of whom hated him. County Route 518 was so named in commemoration of the number of children Zeck fathered with his wives. Each child was a notorious brat.
I couldn’t find the source of either Jacob’s Creek or Beden’s Brook, but Fiddlers Creek is named, and misspelled, after John Fidler, who fought in the American Revolution.
* * *
Regarding the names of towns, Hopewell Borough was once called Columbia. Columbia Ave. is its relic.
Titusville was always Titusville, named for the family of Joseph Titus, who established two sawmills and a fishery there in the 1700’s.
Pennington was originally Queenstown, then Pennytown and finally Pennington, named after colonial governors related to William Penn.
Stephen Crane, best known for The Red Badge of Courage, attended the Pennington School for two years, leaving in 1887 after a teacher accused him of lying about some unidentified hazing incident. Was it swallowing goldfish? Paddling? Out-of-control beer pong?
Not to detract from Stephen Crane and John Hart, but highest in my pantheon of local heroes has to be Pennington native Cassidy Hutchinson who, in sworn testimony before Congress, revealed that the most corrupt person in the country, if not the world, had, in moments of anger, thrown platefuls of fast food against the walls of the Oval Office dining room. Furthermore, way beyond the call of duty, she helped clean the ketchup off the walls.
In case you want to know even more about Hopewell Valley, go crazy reading the Hopewell Valley Historical Society Newsletter (hopewellvalleyhistory.org). The archive goes back to 1975.
,
