This is a guest blog post by Emily DeFazio, BA in History, minor in Italian and Digital Marketing, Notre Dame. Emily is a 2024 Buchanan Burnham Fellow.
Note: The pictures used in this blog post feature Rose Ross and Edward J. Grey, whose experiences at Fort Adams (where they met) during WWII are detailed in the images. While not directly pertaining to the people recorded in the oral histories highlighted here, the narrative of these photographs serves as a poignant complement to those detailed in the interviews as a way to demonstrate what life was like for women in Newport at that time.
The development of audio-recording equipment has allowed historians to document personal historical accounts in unprecedented ways. Oral history interviews—recorded discussions that capture a person’s insider knowledge with all the emotion that comes from reexamining one’s history—have become a unique and valuable resource in depicting individual realities of those who lived in the somewhat-recent past. Perhaps most importantly, these interviews also give insight into perspectives and experiences that could have been lost in the historical record.
In the 1980s, the Newport Historical Society conducted two oral history projects regarding life in Newport during the early twentieth-century. While not the initial aim of the projects, many of the tapes provide first-hand accounts of Newport women who lived and worked in the city during one of the most consequential global events in history: World War II. These tapes create a unique understanding of Newport’s widespread contribution to World War II and what life was like for the women that served as the backbone of the city’s local war efforts. The following are two accounts recorded during these oral history projects which serve as detailed eye-witness accounts to this period of history and the stories of women underrepresented in the history books.
Following the attacks on Pearl Harbor (December 7, 1941) and America’s official entrance into World War II, Newport experienced a different pattern than most of the country. Across the United States, as men enlisted to join the fight overseas, American women were left to shoulder the domestic war effort. They assumed positions in factories, offices, and even branches of service themselves to ensure wartime production could be sustained. The iconic “Rosie the Riveter” figure emerged from this phenomenon. While many American towns and cities saw a decline in their male population due to enlistment, Newport was one of the few cities that experienced an influx of men given its naval connections. When President Franklin D. Roosevelt assessed Newport’s defenses in 1940, there had been 2,100 Navy recruits;2 by the end of the war, 204,115 recruits had passed through the city for training.3 Newport women, like other women living near military bases, therefore faced the more unique situation of living and working directly alongside servicemen during the war.
These women contributed to the war effort in a myriad of ways, using their individual skills for the benefit of their country. One of the main facets of Newport’s domestic war contribution was the work conducted at the Torpedo Station that operated on Goat Island. While it had existed on the island since 1869, the Station accelerated production to accommodate the surging demand for naval torpedoes during World War II. It was the women of Newport who answered the call for workers needed to meet this quota, making up a large portion of the Station’s 13,000 civilian employees.4 These women assumed a variety of roles, consequently facing several challenges that came with the unprecedented ways women were introduced to the workforce.
Mary E. Sullivan (1922-2014) of 86 Carroll Ave., who had been attending secretarial school at the breakout of the war, joined the Torpedo Station as a typist in 1942. Her interviews give extraordinary insight into the experiences of her fellow female workers. Sullivan was hired under a “war service appointment” with no guarantee of employment following the conflict’s end. This was the reality for a majority of wartime workers—many of whom were women—and the onslaught of new female employees faced the lack of resources that came with war production. As such, Sullivan noted her initial desk was a piece of wood placed between two other desks, her chair an overturned wastebasket with a pillow on top.5 Not only did the Station itself face a strain, but the strict ferry system—which Sullivan had to run to catch a few times—did not have enough indoor seats to house the commuters. Despite those who appreciated the fresh air as Sullivan did, during the winter several passengers, especially women who wore dresses or skirts, got frostbite from the trip as a result.6
Sullivan and her coworkers continued to show up despite these conditions and under the potential threat of enemy retaliation. Given that it was used for military operations, the Torpedo Station placed anti-aircraft guns on the roofs of its buildings. According to Sullivan, it was an “odd” feeling having them atop the building she worked in, as there had been rumors of bombers coming to raid Newport’s coast. Because of this, Sullivan described that on her way to work one morning “[she] remember[ed] thinking ‘well, will I go home, or will I go to work?’” Her decision that she “may as well go to work”7 reflected the spirit in Newport at the time, one that was somewhat removed from the realities of wartime violence while still contributing greatly to the nation’s defense. The women like Sullivan who joined this fight worked directly alongside Navy personnel—even passing through military screening when boarding and disembarking the ferry—and experienced the war in vastly different ways than women in other parts of the country.
Sarah Plumb’s (1908-2007, 9 Pine St.) oral history interviews also paint a picture of how women who did not work at the Torpedo Station adjusted to the steady stream of men passing through their city. While Plumb explained that “[a]ll over the country…it was all women” who lived and worked in community following men going overseas, her work in Newport conversely entailed constant interaction with servicemen.8 As a Red Cross volunteer, she assisted in handing out meals to troops throughout town. She recalled that on Saturday afternoons, she and her colleagues would load their trucks with sandwiches, playing music and dancing with the officers as they worked. One of these servicemen eventually became her husband, Ralph. Plumb explained that they met in 1941 at the Naval Training Station as “[she] used to go over there a lot and watch the activities.”9 Several other female Newporters found their spouses through the Navy’s presence in the city. Therefore, even if women were not directly involved with military operations, they still contributed to the war effort and were affected by it in every aspect of their lives.
This especially rang true in the city’s wartime social scene. While Newport was hard at work training officers and producing torpedoes, the young people involved in the war effort found ways to socialize and lift their spirits. These consisted of private parties and events conducted through more official channels, such as dances thrown by the Navy itself and the Fort Adams training facility. Plumb served as hostess at the enlisted men’s club, one of many places people had to meet each other. Additionally, the officers’ club on Bellevue Avenue contributed to the women’s social opportunities; Plumb recalled that “[she and her friends would] go up there almost every night and dance and had a wonderful time.”10 Therefore, as much as they were contributors to the war effort, assisting domestically as opposed to overseas, Newport’s women were also individuals that engaged with every aspect of World War II-era society.
The collective testimonies of Sullivan and Plumb, two women of thousands more who contributed to local wartime efforts, demonstrate how widespread World War II’s effects were on female Newporters, whether or not they were a government employee. The personal details recorded through these oral history interviews help to illuminate the realities of everyday life in wartime Newport, adding new dimensions to the narrative that are not often found on the page. Given that these women’s stories might not have been recorded had it not been for the Society’s projects, the NHS’s initiatives demonstrate how invaluable oral history interviews can be in intimating the social impact of historical events, such as WWII in Newport.
[1] This information was stated in Rose’s obituary following her death in 2007. She was given a full military funeral. https://www.courant.com/obituaries/rose-grey-new-britain-ct/
[2] C.P.B Jefferys, Newport: A Concise History (Charleston: The History Press, 2024), 120.
[3] John B. Hattendorf and John Kennedy, “Naval history has long been intertwined with Newport’s,” The Newport Daily News, May 30, 2014. https://www.newportri.com/story/news/2014/05/30/naval-history-has-long-been/12766638007/
[4] Jefferys, Concise History, 120.
[5] Mary E. Sullivan Oral History Interview, Torpedo Station Oral History Project, Newport Historical Society.
[6] Ibid.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Sarah Plumb Interview: January 27, 1984, Neighborhoods of Newport Oral History Project, Newport Historical Society.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MJzkin6_wVA
[9] Ibid.
[10] Ibid.