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Our Neighbors: The Forgotten Houghton
By Paul W. Marino, iBerkshires Columnist
04:05PM / Sunday, February 14, 2016
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NORTH ADAMS, Mass. — One might easily — and convincingly — argue that there are a lot more than one member of the vast Houghton clan that is now forgotten, but I am referring to the one that is buried in Hill Side Cemetery.  

Her father, Albert Charles Houghton, was such an important figure in this city, it's likely he will never be forgotten. His notoriety was such that it carries over to his kin: His widow is remembered, if only because she was his widow. His eldest daughter is called to mind whenever one visits the Houghton lot in Southview, as is his youngest, Mary, who has a fame all her own because of the tragedy of Aug. 1, 1914.
 


Alice Houghton is buried under a small marker in Hill Side Cemetery.

Of the three other daughters, the two eldest are memorialized in small, but distinctive ways. Florence rests under a massive Celtic cross in her husband's lot in Hill Side, and both she and her sister Susan can be found listed on the stained-glass window in the North Adams Public Library. They both left money in their estates to benefit the library; money that was used to help build the addition. Their sister — the forgotten Houghton — is also memorialized, but only if you know where to look.

Alice J. Houghton was born in North Adams in 1875. She grew up in her parents' homes, first on Center Street and then on Summer Street, and attended local schools. Then, when she reached the "right age," she was sent to a finishing school where she learned (mostly) to be a young lady. Upon her graduation one of her older sisters took her on an extended tour of Europe.

Very few women went to college in those days, but a two-year jaunt through Europe provided a solid educational base for a young woman of means. She learned other languages, studied art, music and fashion and polished her social skills at balls and parties. She hobnobbed with royalty and blue bloods and dined on haut cuisine. By the time she came home, she was polished, worldly and the intellectual equal of any man of her class.

Thus educated, Miss Houghton was ready to enter the ranks of North Adams Society and, if she chose, to marry. She chose marriage, being joined to Edward S. Wilkinson Jr. She bore him several children before dying unexpectedly in 1906. She was buried in her father-in-law's lot in Hill Side, not far from where her sister Florence would be buried. And there, she is memorialized. But not only there.

Her other memorial is embarrassingly out in the open. I say embarrassingly by design; like any monument, it was doubtlessly unveiled with great fanfare — and promptly forgotten.  

All monuments, unless constant attention is drawn to them, quickly fade into the background and become effectively invisible. People walk past them without even noticing them. Or as happened in this case, look straight at them without grasping their significance.

When the former Methodist Church was built back in 1929, a large number of memorial gifts went into its making, including three from the Houghton family. The Houghtons had been members there, and A.C. Houghton had left a fund in his estate especially for the church. When the new church was built, that fund was used to build the chancel, and later, to pay of the mortgage. But Florence and Susan, being wealthy themselves, also purchased two stained-glass windows.

One was placed over the altar as a memorial to their parents. The second was placed over the balcony at the rear of the sanctuary. This was the memorial to their late sisters Mary and Alice. Like most memorial windows, it has a panel in the glass inscribed with the names of the people it memorializes fo