Salem has been a tourist city for more than a century, so there has been a succession of guide books spotlighting the city’s landmarks and attractions from their particular chronological perspectives. I think I’ve referenced every guide book here, with the exception of the one I am featuring today: The Illustrated Salem Guide Book. Beyond Witch City, published for the Bicentennial in 1976. If you read all the Salem guides in chronological order, two themes are readily apparent: the increasing commodification of history and creeping witches crowding everything else out. The bicentennial book is an exception to both of these trends: it’s a breath of fresh air, guiding its readers to a more cohesive Salem 1976 rather than just downtown “attractions,” and its “Beyond Witch City” subtitle is accurate. It has wonderful illustrations and writing: the efforts of my neighbor Racket Shreve, a well-known maritime artist, and Robert Murray, respectively. It’s just a very special little book: I really love it. It actually makes me nostalgic for a city I never lived in!

One of the key differences between The Illustrated Salem Guide Book and its predecessors and successors is that it was published by the Salem Bicentennial Commission rather than a tourist agency. So the focus is much more on hospitality and non-profit attractions than salesmanship. As you can see above, it proudly bore the (competition-winning) Bicentennial logo as well as a Samuel McIntire swag on its back cover. Inside, we read that “This Guide Book is intended both as a portrait of Salem—an evocation of Salem, old and new, as well as a practical directory for How, What, Where and When.” The combination of aims makes for a thoughtful and accessible book; in its own words, “practical and irreverent.” This book was only one of Salem’s Bicentennial projects: the Commission also organized Visitor Hospitality Centers (in all of Salem’s churches—staffed by volunteers), the development of Fort Lee & Fort Pickering as natural preserves (1976 must have been the last time anyone paid attention to these sites), work on a Salem bikeway, the reconstruction of Samuel McIntire’s Washington Arch (recently restored), “Operation Sail” focused on the waterfront, and several Salem Symposiums “examining Salem’s Past, Present and Future.” This was a very ambitious and engaging agenda. It’s the evocative mission that I’m the most interested in, and while that quality is probably best illustrated by Racket’s illustrations, Robert Murray’s writing is also essential towards realizing this aim: On Oliver Street, an old clockface, empty of hands, hangs on the coach house behind No. 31, its gold numerals luminous at Noon. Attached to the rear of No. 5, two identical carvied friezes, attached side by side upon a stable wall: a touch of Federal surrealism. Beneath the friezes, a sign: Beware of Dog. Murray is particularly good on the history of Salem’s churches: I learned quite a bit. Racket provides some great illustrations of these buildings, and then they both take us all around Salem–not just to the “pretty” spots.

There’s a lot of Salem pride in this book. I was really happy to see a sentiment that I discovered when I was writing about urban renewal for our forthcoming book: an assertion that Salem had “triumphed” over urban renewal, and transformed all those Federal dollars into an initiative that actually focused on renewal rather than destruction. Murray emphasizes  the “imaginative” choice by the Salem Redevelopment Authority to substitute historic renovation for demolition. Salem has won national recognition for its adaptation of its old glories for its modern needs. This is true, and not appreciated sufficiently. Present-day witch-pitching people spin the story that witchcraft tourism “saved” Salem, but I don’t know, 1976 Salem looks pretty dynamic: all of the Essex Institute houses are open, as is its Phillips Library, there’s an ongoing archaelogical dig at the Narbonne House, “a group of rusty oil tanks huddle together aware that they are disliked and soon to be removed” for Pickering Wharf, Pioneer Village is deemed “an excellent place to begin a study of the evolution of the American home.” There were lots of restaurants: Red’s Sandwich Shop, the Lyceum, the Beef & Oyster House, In a Pig’s Eye, Strombergs, the Gutenberg Press Restaurant & Pub, and more—and if you had a party of six you could have dinner at the Daniel’s House: just phone Mrs. Gill and byob.

This little book succeeds in capturing Salem’s past and present from a 1976 perspective: it is not characterized by sickening sentimentality or boosterism. Salem emerges as a city shaped by its past and being shaped by its present. I wish its author and illustrator would create a Salem guide book now (for the 400th anniversary!), because I think it would be very interesting.

What was lost and what remains—the cement slide at Forest River Park! Below, the guide’s map and Racket’s Hamilton Hall Antique Show (a benefit for the then-Peabody Museum of Salem) covers.