Fenway 1912 by Glenn Stout

weather, to stay away. Only 850 brave souls saw the old park off, and most of those were more interested in clambering beneath the grandstand than watching the game.
    Jerome Kelley and his crew did what they could to make the field playable, brooming away puddles and spreading sawdust everywhere. Scattered throughout the stands were a few notable figures who had seen the first game played at the old ballyard, including General Arthur "Hi Hi" Dixwell, who had turned over the first spade of earth when the park was built and whose signature cheer had earned him his nickname. These men mostly chatted among themselves about times gone by, as if oblivious to the ball game on the field.
    The game went quickly, taking only eighty-two minutes to complete as Charley Hall kept the Senators at bay and little-used outfielder Olaf Henriksen became the hero of the day with a third-inning, bases-loaded triple that broke the game open. Tris Speaker was carried off the field after an errant pitch hit his leg just below the kneecap, and he was taken back to Put's by ambulance. Joe Riggert knocked out the final Boston hit in the old park, an inside-the-park home run over the center fielder's head in the bottom of the eighth to make the score 8–1. Washington threatened in the ninth, but after Germany Schaefer singled—the last hit at Huntington Avenue—Kid Elberfeld hit a ground ball to Larry Gardner at third. He flipped the ball to second baseman Jack Lewis, and the game was done.
    On his typewriter Tim Murnane tapped out an epitaph:
The park was considered one of the best to see a ballgame, as the light was good and the grounds roomy. The old stand and bleachers will soon be torn down and nothing left to show where once fierce battles were fought to the music of loyal fans.
In saying farewell to the Huntington-av Park, it will only mean a welcome to the magnificent new home the Boston Americans will occupy next season in the Back Bay Fens, just as handy as the old park, too ... Goodby season of 1911. Goodby to the Huntington-av Grounds.
    Hello, Fenway Park.

2. Hot Stove
The stand is a single deck structure with a roof of mill construction on a steel frame. The deck is reinforced concrete throughout, the roof being carried by steel columns bolted to the tops of reinforced concrete columns carrying the deck. The only wood used is in the movable folding opera chairs, roof joists, sheathing, office interiors and screed to which chair legs are attached.
—
Engineering Record
    I T WAS JUST another job.
    As architect James McLaughlin bent over his drafting table in late September and early October of 1911 in his office on Atlantic Avenue and made a few last minor changes to the plans he had worked on, off and on, for more than two years, he probably did not hazard to think that anything about this most recent venture would prove to be of lasting significance. It was just another project, albeit a unique one: he had never designed such a structure before and would never do so again. It was neither the largest nor the most lucrative project of his career, nor the most demanding. During his lifetime it would bring him little acclaim and serve as nothing more than a footnote to his career.
    It was perhaps most notable because of the name of his client, General Charles Taylor, and his son, John I., of the
Boston Globe
Taylors. McLaughlin knew that if he pleased them it would certainly help open some doors for other notable clients. Yet that was just as true when McLaughlin dealt with a school committee over the building of a schoolhouse, or a church board over the building of a church or parsonage.
    This is not to say that as McLaughlin bent over his table and worked on the design he did not give the project his full attention—he did. His career was just beginning to flourish, and he treated every project with the same care and attention regardless of its size. But this job, a home for the Red Sox, was different from anything McLaughlin had ever