When a photograph of the men working inside the New York Knife Factory came up on the internet, I was struck by it, and I tried to peer as far inside of it as I could get. The image is crisp and yet almost liquid, and it works for transportation just short of a time-machine. I started thinking, “What are these men thinking about?” They are sitting in front of windows for light as they work, and below them is the raging water of the Wallkill River thundering over the upper falls. These falls provided direct mechanical power to their machines, many of them grinding stones. The men are facing west, when not looking at the camera, and they are intent, but not quite solemn. If you look at the composite photo of the factory, you can pick out the windows behind which they are sitting, working, and daydreaming.

To be sure, this column is not a history, rather, a speculation. Some of the men will return to small, brick, row-houses on the west side of the river, company houses built by the owner Colonel Thomas Bradley. The photograph of the men was taken in 1915. The War to Make the World Safe for Democracy, was raging in Europe. Many of these men had direct roots to Europe. Many of these cutlery workers either came from Sheffield, England, themselves, or their fathers and grandfathers came here to work in the knife works. Sheffield was an important knife and cutlery center in Yorkshire, England. In the 1900 census, according to a study conduced by my wife’s 4th grade history club, 42% of Walden’s heads of households worked in the knife factories. Of the 691 households in Walden in 1900, 132 household heads were born in England.

They may have been thinking of England and the war. Or perhaps of the yard work they had to get done later in the evening -- if there was sunlight remaining. Many of them had significant gardens in their backyards, gardens where they grew their own food and provided for their kitchen to can and preserve for winter. These gardens were fenced with pickets and gates and everyone still had an outhouse in the back yard.

To be sure, women worked in these factories too. Maybe the men were thinking of the women on the blade polishing floor. No doubt. “And young Molly, did you see her bonnet, Tom?” “I was thinking more of seeing her bloomers.” Raucous laughter over the sound of the machines and river.

Softball was the all-engaging sport of their time. The factories fielded numerous teams. It is rumored they played games during their lunch break. And on Sunday’s and anytime they could get away and have a beer and a game. It was a passion.

I have a Yorkshire friend on Facebook who is a stone mason. His name is Blake Brown and he is descended from the Viking hordes which overran Yorkshire in the 800’s. He sent me a picture of some grindstones he found and built into his work. Note how similar the stones are to our own Walden grindstones used to sharpen the knife blades. His are Yorkshire sandstone. Ours are our famous bluestone from the Catskills. His stones were found near Sheffield, less than 12 miles from his home. I thought it would be nice to put samples of each stone together on one page. If you ever make it over there, Blake suggests visiting the Tyzack Family Forge, part of the Abbeydale Industrial Hamlet. Abbeydale Industrial Hamlet | Sheffield Industrial Museums Trust (simt.co.uk). Blake has promised to get a copy of Colonel Bradley’s birth certificate, born in Sheffield, England in 1844 as Thomas Wilson. The offices are close for Covid.

It is impossible to know what these hard-working men were thinking, but they were as far from the Civil War as we are from the Vietnam War, and our 1918 entry into the Great War is still three years away. This was a time of peace for them and life was relatively good, I think we can say. And while there are no face shields above the grindstones, with many of them probably developing silicosis later in life, the beer was likely to have been superb.