There are only two Woonsocket’s in the United States. Woonsocket, RI was first, established in 1888. The other, Woonsocket, SD, was named by its superintendent of railroads who had originally come from Woonsocket, RI.
The first inhabitants of what is today the city of Woonsocket were Eastland woodland Indians – mainly Nipmucs, Wampanoaags and Narragansetts.
By the mid-nineteenth century, Woonsocket had grown to become one of the largest textile manufacturing centers in the United States.
The first free public library in Rhode Island was located there.
The above info I got from Wikipedia.
I was born in Woonsocket , R.I. I have fond memories of Woonsocket, but not especially fond memories of where I went to school–Mt. St. Frances. It is now some kind of a health care center. My sister, Barbara, and I went on a tour of Woonsocket a few years ago, when I could drive without getting a panic attack. We drove by all the houses we had lived in and all the schools we went to. We both went to Mt. St Frances, which was actually part orphanage.. We weren’t orphans but it was a Catholic school so that’s where we went. My mother was an avid Catholic, though she went through some changes as she grew older: Jehovah’s Witness, Seventh Day Adventist, etc.
I remember when my sister and I visited the place it was all locked up. But the big door to the old school had a big keyhole. My sister and I kept taking turns smelling through the keyhole. The place smelled just like it did when we were kids. It overwhelmed us. It was such a unique smell. I wish I could describe it, but for a few seconds it brought us back in time. My sister is six years older than I and has a better memory of the place. What I do remember is hating being there. I would always cry to my teacher that I had to go see my sister and they would have to interrupt her class for me to get c0mfort from her so I could get through the day. I actually flunked the first grade because I missed so many days of school. The problem was no one in my family knew I was missing school. I would go to school in the morning and then when we had to get in a straight line to go to lunch, I would make sure I was last in line. I would slowly back out the door, run across the street into the woods and feed my bologna sandwich to a Collie. He got to know me and would wait for me. Actually he would wait for my lunch. I would then hang out there until school was over. I didn’t get caught doing that for a long time. Nuns aren’t very observant. They pray too much.
I would also fake sickness. I would have to go the the main entrance where there was a phone and a nun who would let me call my parents to come get me. Once they sent my grandfather. He passed away when I was about 20 years old and in all that time I think he only talked to me once. He walked into our house handed me a quarter, something he’d never done before. Actually I’m not even sure if he talked to me. He may not have.
The above picture is my grandmother, my father, my grandfather (I was always a little afraid of him) my mother, and her mother. It was my parent’s wedding day.
If I remember correctly and my sister will correct me if I haven’t (Only because she’s older and remembers more. Wait, isn’t it if you’re younger you remember more.) Now I don’t remember what I was going to write. Seriously I don’t freakin remember. I have to think.
Oh, I do remember. My Sin perfume-my mother used to wear it. I don’t know if they make it anymore. But why would a Catholic wear a perfume called My Sin? I really want to smell it. I can almost smell it in my mind. But mind smelling and really smelling something are two different things.
I’d eat Spam before I would ever eat Bologna again. It probably killed that poor Collie I used to feed it too.