To this day it is called the
Kings Highway, some 236 years after the war aimed at ridding the colonials of the
road’s namesake, King George III. The road traverses north/south through New
Jersey from the lower Delaware Bay to the city of Camden, a fast ferry ride over
to Philadelphia, the young Nation’s first capital. An overland trip from the Bay
to Philadelphia back then was much easier traveled in New Jersey because of the
numerous wide and fast-moving tributaries that flow into the Delaware River on
the Pennsylvania side
Fifteen miles from Philadelphia, Kings Highway effectively
cuts the town of Haddonfield evenly east from west. Named for Elizabeth Haddon,
daughter of an early colonial landowner, the town, even today, still has the
look and feel of a New England colonial village. Tall, two and three-story houses
face the wide, tree-lined roads. Ancient oak, maple, and chestnut trees shaded
the front, sides, and back of most structures. No ranchers or track houses of any kind
allowed.
In 1985, Carla Gach bought one of those colonial-style
homes on Kings Highway, a mere three blocks from where Washington actually did
sleep as Haddonfield was alternately occupied by both opposing forces during
the Revolution. Dolly Madison frequently slept at The Indian King Tavern where
the bed she used still sits on the second floor. One may even wonder if Dolly
and George found themselves sleeping in the town at the same time, but not of
course, in the same bed. It has been rumored though, that Dolly Payne (name
from first marriage) quizzed Martha regarding the character of one, James
Madison, before agreeing to marry the future fourth president.
“Historic,
old-money, quaint, and quiet” are the names most often conferred upon
Haddonfield by residents of the nearby communities. Holding onto its Quaker
lineage, the town to this day, does not allow liquor sold anywhere within its
borders.
So you can imagine that when Carla Gach repainted her white
picket fence a hot, hot neon-orange that a few Haddonfield eyebrows raised up.
Even more than eyebrows, hands skyrocketed at the very next town hall
meeting where volunteers eager to help curb Carla’s desire to be so colorful.
Carla needed a good lecture and Mrs. Jonathan Whitmore IV would be only too
happy to do the honors. The city fathers including Jonathan Whitmore III and
Jonathan Whitmore IV agreed that a first meeting should be cordial,
conciliatory, and should place trust in Carla’s acceptance of tradition over
her personal color preferences.
Mrs. Whitmore IV agreed with the approach. She invited
Carla over to her habitat where with a big smile, tea and genuine English
crumpets, the issue of the offensive color choice for Carla’s fence was
politely discussed.
Carla proved most receptive to the request that she change
the color scheme. And Carla was made aware that sooner would be much better
than later. The very next day, although a little weary, Carla, brush in hand, was
observed repainting her fence.
The next day thereafter, eyebrows and hands rose up once
again all over Haddonfield. Without being specific that white, not chartreuse,
was the only preferred color of choice for “white” picket fences — an emergency
meeting of the guardian fathers reconvened. Mrs. Jonathan Whitmore IV was
invited to explain why the meeting with Carla failed to produce the desired
results. Placing part of the blame on failed communications and possibly stale
crumpets, it was decided that Mr. Jonathan Whitmore IV should visit the
offending neighbor. And, he should deliver the message with a man’s gentle, but
firm, clear and concise fashion. No manner of refreshments were brought to the
meeting.
Even more tired than the previous day Carla, once again
grabbed her brush, and painted the fence pearl-ivory white. One could feel a
collective sigh reign all over Haddonfield. But before she put her brush away
she dipped it in a pail of pale-yellow and splashed the front of her house.
Then she stepped back and allowed Jones House Painting to complete the job.
Not since Aaron Burr had walked down the Kings Highway
seeking the affections of Dolly had such a dark cloud hovered over Haddonfield.
Blasphemy! This was a deliberate act of blasphemy by a Devil-woman. No more Mr.
Nice Guys. It was time to bring out the lawyers with their threats of financial
damages, incarceration and public scorn. Did the community still own a pillory
where one’s head and hands were locked in mockery for the entire world to
observe? This tool was usually reserved for adulteress but warranted in this extreme
case, thought a few of the town’s gentry.
Carla had received all the Whitmore IV’s messages loud and
clear. Haddonfield was run by a male dominated, archaic city council and she
was not about to bow down. King George lost but Carla would not run and could
not be dissuaded from her house color choices. She voted to let her adversaries
bring out their biggest cannons.
Now the city council was not alone in feeling that Carla
had violated the principals of honorable ethics, the entire, well most of
Haddonfield’s residences shunned Carla. She was ignored in the stores, seemed
she had to wait in line longer at the bank where her business was evidently not
wanted but tolerated.
The
legal threats were not without basis either. The city fathers did have
jurisdiction over many properties in historical zones or for homes with verifiable
historic value. There was always an outside chance that Carla’s house could be
subjected to an existing statute. In addition, the idyllic life she perceived
in her new home was far from reality and the “war” was wearing on her. But she
held her ground like Washington at Valley Forge.
The
lawyers went to work and for a small town of 12,000, it boasts 390 attorneys, more
than most of any similar sized community in southern New Jersey. But the case
dragged on and on. Eventually the ice-cold treatment for Carla began to melt.
Even Mrs. Jonathan Whitmore IV referred to Carla, as neighbor. The frost
dissipated completely after Carla held a fund raiser for the Daughters of the
Revolution in her home.
One
day Carla tired of her yellow house and repainted it a brilliant white. The
town rejoiced. The new mayor, Jonathan Whitmore V declared a “Carla Gach Day.”
Soon after however, when Carla became a little bored she got out her trusty
paintbrush once again. This time she painted a birdhouse imperial purple just
to remind Haddonfield that she still possessed spunk.
__________
Carla Gach, a
long-time resident of Laguna Woods, CA and member of the Laguna Woods Village
Art Association painted a paintbrush which inspired this story. The historical
facts are correct; the rest of the story is a fable. Carla Gach passed away in
2011 but the Art Association honors her memory by prominently displaying the
painting, shown above, on its website. Note: The author lived in Haddonfield,
NJ where a purple-painted house on Kings Highway actually caused such a fuss
during the 1980’s and still may to this day.
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