Bouyed By Benevolence

The Seamen's Church Institute

(A scale model of a Gloucester fisherman; unidentified American schooner from late 19th-century to early 20th-century; weight, 50 tons or more. Property of the institute. All pics enlarge)

The One That Got Away

Recently one evening, weaving through the homeward bound Financial District's worker bees, en route to a Sit n' Knit meetup, at the Seamen's Church Institute, I was shook by a memory. I was a little girl, sitting in the kitchen, my mom telling me about her relationship with Frezel, an African merchant seaman who was in love with her, before she met her husband, my father. Back in the day the myth was, that seamen were prized marriage prospects. They made good money, accumulated from long voyages (if not disposed to gambling), and they brought back beautiful gifts. Indeed, I loved visiting my aunt C.'s house; it was a museum of Oceania, filled with the souvenirs of her former marriage to one. My mom however, surface dweller that she was, went for my father's looks instead. Frezel it seemed, bowed out with dignity, returned to the sea, and later married.

Suddenly, I considered Frezel's reality––spending weeks, months even out to sea, it's actually a hard and dangerous life. Did he come here? 

A Vision On Land

(Beyond macramé; a homage to the old church)

The institute, now inhabiting a new building is awesome! Designed inside and out to resemble an ocean liner, it sports a collection of old and new marine artifacts that are marvelously juxtaposed.* The upper floor, which make up the roof deck are perfect for a fab event (hear that, Florence?), but provides unpretentious comfort to the visiting mariners––its primary purpose.

(A wall of warmth; and this is just the scarves)

 I ogled my way up the stairs at the  collection,  then entered the expansive yarn room. Folks, my photos would do it no justice; believe me, this room should be made a knitting heritage site. Nonetheless, the intimate group seated around the table were chatting and knitting away, with the nonchalance of––been there, felt that. Me? I was busy taking pics. Suddenly I felt bemused; Sahara, you're acting like a damn fool. Okay now. Regaining my cool, I joined the group to a cordial, but friendly reception, warming up considerably, as the evening progressed.

(L to R; Jeanette, Angela, and Vicky) 

 (Our host; Jeanette, with her lighthouse smile).

Guiding Light

Jeanette Devita is the manager for the institute's Christmas At Sea program. The yarn room (swoon) may be her office, but I can see why it wouldn't faze her; this sister works assiduously, coordinating the efforts of  thousands of volunteer knitters and crocheters across the country, who produce what looks like an ocean of accessories that are distributed to close to 20,000 seamen. Ancestors!

 (You are here; the volunteers)

But hey, it's not about the yarn. "I'm really fortunate to be able to reach out and connect with the knitters and seamen," she says. I ask her about the tallying of all those goods. There are volunteers who come in once a week to assist, but ultimately? The connection's in the touch for Jeanette. "Every stitch of every scarf I handle connects a knitter to a seaman." Damn. Damn. I wonder if the woman Frezel eventually married, knew how to knit or crochet. I hope so.

To learn more about this extraordinary organization, and get involved, click on the the link.

*Album pics of this beautiful building, are in the side bar.

  

Comments

[Trina]

I am in love with the frame used for the photograph of the church. Stunning.

[Wanda]

What a fascinating place, full of history. I was not even aware of this place. Thanks.

[Jordana Castro]

Hey, did you get my email?

[Chris]

That sounds like a very cool location and organization.