Ye Olde Story

There are quite a few places in Plymouth that proudly wear the “Ye’.
There are also a great many businesses and tourist attractions that claim to be olde, with the extra ‘e’, which is either an outright affectation, or an implication that the business in question is in part – or whole, really, really old. (An olde, but goode?)
There are also businesses that come right out and slap the word ‘Pilgrim’ onto their store front, the sides of delivery vans, brochures, business cards, web sites and the like – regardless of whether their buildings are olde, their ancestors came off the Mayflower, or they specialize in Pilgrim kitsch.
But there are only a handful of businesses in this historic community that can claim all three.
I call it, The Plyfecta!
And then there is my favorite Laundromat.
I probably shouldn’t say it’s my favorite, because that implies I’ve tried many and prefer one: actually I only recently visited this particular Laundromat, when our dryer kicked ye olde bucket.
But when I realized I had to find a Laundromat, I knew just where I would go.
Not only is the place where I chose to dry my delicates a certified Ye, and an olde but goode, and features ‘Pilgrim’ in its business name, but the wash and fold folks on Sandwich Street take it one big affectated step further - featuring a wishing well – one of America’s most endearing faux lawn decorations, in their name.
Ye Olde Pilgrim Washing Well Laundromat!
If you’re looking for a Laundromat, how can you top that?
Well, how about with the words of Mary Elizabeth Dibley, the Plymouth colony’s first washerwoman, from her historic diary, entitled “Of Plimoth Laundree”.

“Being thus arrived in a good harbore and brought safe to lande, we felle upon our knees &, what do thee knowe, but founde we were knee deepe in a small brooke of pleasante waters and, the thoughte came to me – well, actuallethly, the smell came to me, and I remarked to Goodman Bradford that he was ripe in age and stench and that I would, for less than he might imagineth, undertake to wash his doublet right then and there. Blessed be ye God of heaven, who had brought us over ye vast & furious ocean, and delivered us from all ye periles & miseries therof, againe to set our feete on ye firme and stable earth, their proper elemente and, despite all that, left both man and woman with an all too earthly odor and a chance to make a bucke”

Unbelievable!
Yeah, you’re right, it is unbelievable. Not the Laundromat – no, that exists, but Mary Dibley – ye olde Pilgrim Washer-woman: I made her up. I got carried away by the Ye, and the Olde, and the whole Pilgrim shtick. But can you blame me? Whether its trinkets or toiletries or auto parts, history is good for the bottom line. Heck, even the movie folks got into the act (rumor has it, that their first idea was to call their venture, Ye Olde Pilgrim Celluloid Companie).
On one hand, it’s silly. On the other hand, it associates your business with people who were adventurous, brave, hard working and – most importantly, successful.
At its worse, Ye Olde Pilgrim Washing Well Laundromat is just that – a Laundromat.
At its best, washing your clothes in the waters of Ye Olde Pilgrim Washing Well Laundromat might somehow imbue them with the spirit and vitality of our stalwart Pilgrim forbears.
Plymouth was the first town in America where someone casually remarked to someone else – (and someone else wrote it down) ‘there’s something in the water’. And if its ‘in the water’, the implication is clear, it could get ‘in the clothes’!
Its possible!
I should make it clear though that, the owners of Ye Olde Wash and Fold, are not making that kind of claim: not specifically, not outright. The only claim they make – as far I can tell, is that they are not responsible for lost or stolen items.
The attendants, I should inform you, do not wear traditional Pilgrim garb.
And the workers don’t look puzzled when you ask them where you might get an espresso while your doublet is drying.
Though directly across the street is the Jabez Howland home – an actual 1667 saltbox style, cedar shingled structure with leaded windows and tours available – the building that the Laundromat occupies seems to have had almost all vestiges of its past put through the rinse cycle.
Instead of the wide plank floors that tourists might envision, there are only the remnants of artificial floor coverings and, beneath that, what appears to be plywood.
Instead of traditional clapboard there is aluminum siding, and a giant flap on the southern side of the building that – when opened, allows the servicing of the washing machines from the outside of the building.
Inside pop music plays from a few small speakers, and two large ceiling fans turn counter-clockwise while several dozen washers and dryers roll monotonously forward.
It is definitely cleaner than your typical Pilgrim household.
It’s definitely warmer than your typical Pilgrim home.
But hey, whadda ya want: this is America!
We like to associate ourselves with the best of our past, but if the history actually shows through - if the old beams haven’t been plastered over and the wide plank floors haven’t been hidden under at least two coats of linoleum, something must be wrong.
Which is not to say that Ye Olde Pilgrim Washing Well can’t do the job.
If your clothes need washing but history bores you, rest assured – you won’t have to use a washboard: there is an abundance of late model Maytag machines.
Don’t be confused: the pilgrims did not come over on the Maytag – though if they had they would have arrived with brighter whites, and more vibrant colors.
Ye Olde Pilgrim Washing Well is, in the end, just a Laundromat.
If you’re planning a visit, bring something good to read.
Bring quarters too: the machines don’t take shillings, or pence, or Canadian coins.
Bring a basket or two of Ye and Olde, and maybe a pint of Olde Grand Dad. After an hour or so taking it all in, who knows how bright your whites might be?