As I entered a gas station this morning, a fresh wave of artificial, forced-air heat smacked me across the face, causing a shudder down my entire body. Now, it has not been a particularly brutal winter, but I deserve some credit for braving the elements in the journey between the heated seats of my automobile and the front door of my morning coffee stop.

As I approached the counter, I was nearly knocked over by a youth on a hoverboard who was evidently catching a virtual Pokémon with his phone. He donned a pair of wireless headphones and a trendy winter jacket, seemingly made from material developed by NASA.

Rather than lose my temper, I took this moment to consider the condition of my current station in this complex world. Sure, we are all well aware of the technological revolution hovering around us and all of its gadgets that we employ on a daily basis, but how often do we think about life in the past? What did it look like? How were things different 10, 20, 50, or even 100 years ago? Furthermore, what is the significance of the past to us?

This morning, I had the privilege of speaking with Mary Ellen Johnson, vice president of the Guilderland Historical Society. Johnson, a social studies teacher for 30 years, has been a member of the historical society since 1984, and co-authored “Images of America: Guilderland, New York,” with fellow historian Alice Begley.

In this photographic testimonial, Johnson brings to life the rich history of our community.  These photographs illustrate how Guilderland changed from an early Dutch and Palatine farming community into the massive suburban complex that it is today. Additionally, this work explores the town’s key locations and how they have transformed over the years.

Most recently, Ms. Johnson is researching the history of the electrification of Guilderland, which occurred just over 100 years ago in January 1916. Electricity did not reach the hamlet of Guilderland, though, until 1920, by way of the western turnpike. Running the necessary wire was time-consuming (roughly half a mile per day) and was only profitable to run along main roads and in densely populated neighborhoods.

In fact, by 1934, only 11 percent of American farms had electricity.  Under Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, however, specifically the Rural Electrification Act, loans were granted to rural organizations to help establish their own electrical infrastructure. This was a tremendous change for the people of Guilderland, who had previously relied on natural gas, kerosene lamps, and candles. In fact, Altamont had its own municipal gas company in order to meet the need of consumers prior to the advent of electricity.

Rural life in America would only continue to change and at an ever more rapid pace as the 20th Century progressed. Pretty soon entire landscapes began to change; roads became busier and filled with automobiles, country routes turned into paved roads, farms became neighborhoods, and some neighborhoods ceased to exist altogether.

Many of these small communities in Guilderland have all but melted away from the memories of the town’s people.  While you may have heard of Feura Bush or Elsmere, names like Font Grove, Gallupville, Meadowdale, Wolf Hill, Parkers Corner, or Fullers remain a little more obscure.  Behind each place name lies the rich history of the town’s people and the places they called home.

Equipped with slower modes of transportation and perhaps stronger senses of community, the people of last century’s Guilderland had many more names for the places they frequented. What I perceive as the smeared blur of an insignificant parcel of land at 55 miles per hour on my morning commute may have existed as landmark to the people of yesterday. I can only imagine their world and how much bigger it was. What we call Guilderland had plethora names and adjectives that specified the intricacies of a world nearly forgotten.

Johnson will lead a discussion next week on this very topic: “From the West Manor of Rensselaerwyck to Westmere: Three-Hundred-and-Fifty Years of Guilderland’s Place Names.”  Johnson warmly invites all to participate in the historical society’s program on Thursday, Feb. 16, in which she will use photographs from the society’s collection to describe the evolution of the names of Guilderland’s communities from colonial days to the present. Her presentation will take place at 7:30 p.m. at the Mynderse-Frederick House on Route 146 in Guilderland Center and will be immediately followed by a social hour.  Everyone is encouraged to attend.

Johnson turned me on to the digitized archive of The Altamont Enterprise, dating back to the late 19th Century.  As a millennial, true to form, I was displeased to discover that these were images of articles and that I could not, therefore, use the magical “control F” function on my computer to research specific information.  Yes, I had to actually read the articles in order to find some answers to my questions.

Upon doing so I found some rather interesting tidbits that I feel obliged to share for, just as I was becoming convinced of the entirely different world of last century, some poignant pieces of text reigned in my haughty supposition and painted an all too familiar picture of the Capital District.

February 26, 1915: “A woman walked into a Gloversville bookstore to exchange a book she received for Christmas because she didn’t like the way it ended.”

“While school principals throughout the state are protesting against the questions asked in the January Regents examination in Algebra, Binghamton comes to the front with Miss Mary Patton, a high school student who answered every question correctly.”

“For the first time in several months the sign “no help wanted” has made its appearance at the Watervliet Arsenal. The many shops are running at full blast.”

This one I included just because I thought it was cool:

“Mrs. Catherine King, who witnessed the assassination of Abraham Lincoln in Ford Theatre, Washington, is dead at her home in Rensselaer.”  

To Mary Ellen Johnson, history provides people, particularly transient people, a sense of understanding and belonging to the community in which they live. “Being a student of history,” says Johnson, “connects you to the community and makes you a better citizen.”

To me, history is steeped in lessons to be learned.  The old adage “history tends to repeat itself” is not an inevitable conviction with which we are forced to live.  Contrarily, if we become students of history and try to understand the people of the past, the things they did, and why they did them, then it is as if we face this complex world with centuries of our own experience to draw from.

History is the friend that is always there to listen and provide feedback; it just won’t always allow you to “control F” your way to a solution.  True wisdom comes only when we take history in context, put ourselves in the shoes of our predecessors, and walk around for a bit.