Weaving Woodbridge’s past into its future: Lessons for today from 1918

Weaving Woodbridge’s past into its future: Lessons for today from 1918
Panorama view of New Haven streets and buildings circa 1909, looking out from East Rock

In 1918, the book ‘A Modern History of New Haven and Eastern New Haven County’ described Woodbridge as a town of contrasts: deeply connected to the bustling city of New Haven yet resolutely maintaining its rural charm. This dual identity as a community both near and far, modern yet untouched, appears as a thread that runs through Woodbridge’s history and continues to shape its future. By revisiting this narrative in 2024, perhaps we can discover lessons that resonate with the challenges and opportunities Woodbridge faces today — or as the author states in the preface of this 1918 publication, we might “pick up some threads which may bind together a story that is chiefly in the present time.”

Everett Gleason Hill (1876-1932), the author of ‘A Modern History of New Haven’ conceived of his narrative in two parts; Volume I covers the area's towns, and Volume II presents biographies of the leading men of the time. In today's post, let's dive into the chapter of Volume I that is devoted to Woodbridge.

Everett, who was a well-known journalist and historian in his time, was born and raised in Madison, Connecticut and his Hill family roots went back eight generations in the Guildford area. “Matriculating in Yale as a student in the classical department with the class of 1894, he left college through financial necessity in the middle of his senior year” and had taken up journalism after a brief career as a teacher. He held several positions at newspapers around Connecticut before serving as publisher of the New Haven Register from 1907 to 1917 and according to a biography published shortly before his passing, was “regarded as one of the leading journalists in Connecticut.”

His deep connection to the region and his experience as a journalist gave him a unique lens through which to view the towns he chronicled in his two-volume history. This perspective is evident in his portrayal of Woodbridge, a community he described with both admiration and a keen eye for its complexities.

Cover page of ‘A Modern History of New Haven’ and a quote from its author, Everett G. Hill

As Everett saw it in 1918, Woodbridge embodied striking contrasts — a paradox where rural life persisted and flourished on the edge of encroaching modernity. Though his perspective bears the imprint of the biases of his era, Everett’s account vividly conveys the town’s steadfast commitment to preserving its unique identity and distinctive charm. He observed:

“Woodbridge is a strange town, as Connecticut towns go. It touches the greatest city of Connecticut, and from half a dozen of its heights the beholder may see the city spread out with all its busy, crowded life, can hear its whistles and almost catch its hum. Yet it is one of the most unspoiled of the rural towns of the state. No railroad touches it. No street railway has ever invaded its borders. It has no main street, though three lines of trunk highway radiate from New Haven through it. It has no post office, though the rural mail carrier reaches it daily, though a great trunk telegraph line cuts across its country, and the telephone reaches all its parts with its network of wires. It has no “center,” as most towns know their most thickly populated part.

Yet no one can call Woodbridge isolated. “Isolated” is far from a proper description of a town from any one of whose numerous heights a glimpse of the busy world, of a great modern center of education, of manufacturing and commerce, lies spread to the beholder; from which one in a half-hour's walk can find himself in the most modern of surroundings; which is constantly crossed by life's swiftest tides; which is the home for all or part of the year of hundreds of those who carry on the life of the city. Woodbridge is suburban, but decidedly not in the stereotyped sense. Indeed, it is a community like no other, delightfully peculiar to itself.

Today, this balance remains central to Woodbridge’s identity. The town’s proximity to New Haven’s educational and economic opportunities continues to offer its residents the best of both worlds: access to vibrant urban resources paired with the tranquility of a small-town lifestyle. As regional growth accelerates, Woodbridge faces the challenge of preserving this balance. How does a town remain connected but not find its essence over whelmed or subsumed in the face of suburban expansion?

1918 photo taken on Beecher Road in Woodbridge
An early model automobile is parked in front of the home at 78 Beecher Road in Woodbridge circa 1918.

As the Modern History essay highlights, Woodbridge has long resisted overdevelopment — no railroads, no streetcars, no main street (despite the efforts recounted in a previous post). This cautious approach to growth preserved the town’s rural identity even as it became increasingly connected to New Haven. However, this strategy also meant a gradual decline in population, particularly after the separation of Bethany in 1832.

“It is a small town, by the standard commonly applied. The last census [in 1910] numbered only 878 people there. But comparatively it was not always so. In 1790, six years after its incorporation, there were 2,124 people in Woodbridge. That was about half as many as New Haven had at the time. It substantially held its ground for four decades, and as late as 1830 had 2,052 people. It should, however, be explained that up to this counting the limits of Woodbridge included what is now Bethany. In 1832 Bethany was set off by itself, and the following census of 1840 found only 958 persons left in Woodbridge.”

Today’s Woodbridge finds itself at a similar crossroads. While growth is necessary to sustain the town, thoughtful planning can ensure that new development aligns with the community's unique heritage, balancing housing needs, environmental stewardship, and infrastructure capacity.

Sunnyside Farm in Woodbridge CT
Sunnyside Farm at 639 Amity Road, where Herbert Hazen Tomlinson (1869-1939) lived while he served as Woodbridge First Selectman from 1916-1919.

In 1918, the historian described Woodbridge as “a community of homes,”emphasizing its residential character. Old farmhouses were carefully preserved or tastefully modernized, while newcomers were drawn to the town’s charm and sense of place. The town was seen as an enclave of stability, blending families who had lived there for generations with those who sought a peaceful retreat from urban life. (These were the selling points of various newspaper advertisements of the day in the early 1900s, as previously recounted here at Town History.) In the Woodbridge chapter of Modern History of New Haven, the town's relationship with New Haven is recounted:

“Such are the foundations of that fine town and community which has in its century and a half of separate existence always kept close to the heart of its mother, New Haven, yet preserved unspoiled the charm which nature gave it. It is, for the most part, a community of fine descendants of the fathers, and such later admixture as there has been has caught the spirit of the town's origin and surroundings, and contributed to its edification. Woodbridge of to­day is an interesting mingling of its sons who have remained, of its prodigals who have come repentant back, and of other discerning ones who have sought entrance to the fellowship. Most of the old houses have been cared for and preserved, or remodeled into modern residences. There is now an admixture of new houses, tastefully designed, some by New Haveners whose sense of natural beauty has been made captive by the charm of the place. Woodbridge, in a sense more meaningful than the common use, is a community of homes.”

This description of the town's origins, while remaining relevant today, also raises questions about inclusivity and adaptability. How can Woodbridge evolve to fully embrace changing demographics with open arms while retaining its “delightfully peculiar” identity? Decision-making that balances development and preservation might be key to maintaining this legacy as a welcoming, vibrant community.

Even a century ago, Woodbridge’s natural features were celebrated. The hills —Round Hill, the Bradley Highlands, and others — continue to provide the same breathtaking views of the surrounding region, including glimpses of the Long Island Sound, that were noted in 1918.

“Except in such a way, the years have brought few changes. The town's chief features are of the unchanging type. Its natural beauty is striking. Off to the southeast ever rise the West Rock cliffs, watchtower of the New Haven just beyond.  Yet Round Hill and Bradley Hill, two of Woodbridge's own heights, rise almost three hundred feet higher above sea level than does abrupter West Rock. Woodbridge hills, indeed, are most impressive when seen from West Rock. There are seven or eight of them in all, including, besides the two mentioned, Long Hill, Prospect Hill, Carrington Hill and 'Peck Hill. There is a pleasing variety of meadow and stream and lake be­tween. Along the course of West River are some impressive lakes, created by manufacturing concerns which have built dams across the river at Westville, or by the New Haven Water Company, which has in and near Woodbridge some of its chief sour es of water supply.

‘Woodbridge hills' are historic in fame.  They are the pride of their heirs, the delight of their visitors. There is iron in their air and inspiration in their view.  From Round Hill, the commanding eminence in the far northern part of the town, the climber may gain such a view as few spots in all the region can equal, which takes in Mount Carmel, Meriden 's Hanging Hills, the heights of North Branford, all the beauty of Woodbridge, the lines of the city and the glimmering of the blue Sound beyond.”
Postcard image of Sperry Pool
A vintage postcard, postmarked in 1914, depicting Sperry Pools shortly after the creation of Sperry Park in Woodbridge.

Waterways such as West River and Sargent’s River, along with picturesque spots like Sperry’s Falls, defined the town’s landscape. As previously recounted in a post here at Town History, the foresight to preserve these areas for public enjoyment was exemplified by the Sperry family’s donation of land for a park in 1907. The 1918 Modern History describes the area:

“Here, on a sharp fall of the river, was a spot of great natural beauty, much admired and greatly visited. This has been engulfed in one of the reservoirs, but Sperry's Falls, reminder of one of the earliest grist mills in New Haven County, still remain. With these and the old mill ruins in a setting of nature, the place is a delightful retreat. The farm originally containing it was the birthplace of Hon. Nehemiah D. Sperry, distinguished resident of New Haven, and in 1907 the heirs of Enoch and Atlanta Sperry gave the land to Woodbridge for a public park. Such an institution seems hardly needed by so rural a community, but it is comforting to all who love the town to know that its most delightful spot is preserved in such a manner that its enjoyment cannot be spoiled.”

This commitment to preservation offers a critical lesson for today. With increasing environmental concerns, Woodbridge surely must continue to protect its natural resources and open spaces, as green initiatives and thoughtful land-use policies may prove to be vital in ensuring that future generations can enjoy the town’s natural beauty.

2013 photo of the Wepawaug River
The Wepawaug flows through Alice Newton Street Park in Woodbridge, CT

If the residents of 1918 Woodbridge could look in on efforts to plan the town’s development today, they might also caution us against mimicking other towns without regard for Woodbridge’s unique strengths and history. The proverbial ‘cookie cutter’ approach, that prioritizes conformity over distinctiveness, would be at odds with the deeply rooted identity of this community.

Woodbridge’s history is one of thoughtful preservation and intentional growth, guided by a sense of place that reflects its natural beauty and cultural heritage. Respecting this legacy means embracing solutions tailored to the town’s specific needs and values, ensuring that its future remains as singular as its past.

What steps in this direction can we take? At CharacterTowns.org — a well-regarded online magazine dedicated to providing insights and resources for city planners, urban designers, municipal managers, and elected officials — a primary focus is on fostering the development of small cities and towns “into places that are interesting, pleasant, and prosperous for residents, businesses, and visitors.” Its comprehensive archives and focus on small-town development make it a pertinent tool for those seeking to enhance the character and quality of their communities. Worth a visit!

Quote and link to charatertown.org resource

One resource available at CharacterTowns.org offers this suggestion: “A small town’s greatest assets are often its natural resources and its heritage, which should be the foundation of its economic and community development strategies.”

For Woodbridge, this might mean prioritizing the preservation of its hills, streams, and historic homes while integrating these features into future growth plans. Whether through eco-tourism initiatives, community parks, or conservation-focused housing developments, the town can explore ways to leverage its unique landscape, historical identity, and strong sense of community, to drive sustainable economic growth. By doing so, Woodbridge can ensure that its distinct heritage not only informs its present but also becomes a core asset in shaping its future as we navigate contemporary challenges.

At the crossroads in Woodbridge 1913
John William Morris Downs (1829-1913) stands at the crossroads of Rimmon and Beecher roads in Woodbridge circa 1913.

Of course, in concluding this look back on a century-old publication, it's also worth considering who was making the decisions in 1918. At that time, the town’s direction was shaped almost exclusively by relatively affluent, white men — with little input from other groups. Today, Woodbridge benefits from a more inclusive approach, welcoming diverse perspectives to the decision-making process. Perhaps the challenge now is to retain the enduring values of preservation, intentionality, and recognition of the town’s unique identity while adapting them to a more inclusive and equitable framework that represents all residents.

This will require a deliberate effort to engage voices that were historically excluded and ensuring that decisions about the town’s future are informed by a wide range of experiences and perspectives. At the same time, it will also be essential to hold on to the underlying principles of careful stewardship, thoughtful planning, and appreciation for what makes Woodbridge special.

By reflecting on 1918, we uncover a vision of Woodbridge that continues to resonate today. It underscores the importance of striking a delicate yet essential balance — one that embraces inclusivity while providing continuity — to ensure the town’s evolution strengthens rather than diminishes the qualities that have long made it a wonderful place to live and raise a family. This thoughtful approach can pave the way for a future as vibrant and distinctive as its past — or as Everett Hill so colorfully described Woodbridge, “a community like no other, delightfully peculiar to itself.”