Whatever Happened to Blueberry Ledge
By Brad Emerson
Too cool for the old school? One man’s Peabody & Stearns home is another’s Gwathmey Siegel.
Until recently, the tear-down fever that swept many of America’s wealthy enclaves largely missed elegant Northeast Harbor, one of the last quiet, unpretentious redoubts of old, big money. The summer houses along the shore might be very large but are rarely showy, with simple landscaping, polished and groomed to a fine patina. Gray shingles and dark green trim blend into the surrounding landscape of ledges and spruce; pea gravel crunches underfoot on drives and paths. Many of these houses passed from generation to generation as chintzes faded and the wood smoke of a century of foggy-day fires scented the rooms. Driveways were marked by discreet varnished mahogany signs whispering the name of the cottage, and until recent years, the owners’ names, a who-was-who of American finance and society. The few houses that came on the market were snapped up quickly, to be treasured by new owners in pursuit of the Ralph Lauren dream.