In August I wrote about Judah Colman who got in trouble in the 1750s for stealing a box of Spanish gold that he was supposed to be guarding. I knew that Colman Street in New London wouldn’t have immortalized a criminal, but the incident provided a good excuse to tell a colorful story while acknowledging that the street name’s origin was still unknown.

Fortunately the mystery was quickly solved, thanks to a nice piece of detective work by John Ruddy, The Day’s copy desk chief and superb history writer. He found the surprising answer in a “Tales Told by the Tattler” column written in 1922 by Theodore Bodenwein, The Day’s owner and publisher.

The topic for that column had been inspired by a light-hearted disagreement over whether Colman Street should be spelled with an “e,” and Bodenwein had publicly opined that Coleman was the correct spelling. Now he was writing to inform his readership that Colman (no “e”) was the first name of Dr. Colman Cutler, for whom both Colman and Cutler streets in New London were named! He had learned this from a prominent city judge who’d known Cutler for years.

Although Dr. Cutler practiced ophthalmology in New York City, he was a New London native, had gone to school with some of the city’s elite, and owned a farm on Bank Street. It was from this property that the two streets in question were cut when the farm was subdivided around 1898.

According to Ruddy, Colman Street initially ran just one block from Bank to Cutler Street, but by 1904 it had crept up to Garfield Avenue and finally reached its present terminus at Bayonet Street. Dr. Cutler died in 1935 but his obituary made no mention of his former property, and over time the street names’ origin was forgotten.

If it weren’t for Bodenwein’s foresight and Ruddy’s sleuthing, hapless researchers might still be scouring old city records for a Mr. Colman (or Coleman) with sufficient gravitas to merit his own road. Apparently anticipating just such a situation, Bodenwein ended his “Tattler” column on Colman Cutler with these words, “Now I have straightened out local history, and future historians will not have to speculate how these streets got their titles.”

Bodenwein, the son of a poor Prussian shoemaker, came to New London in the 1870s just as the whaling industry and the city’s economy were declining. Nevertheless he must have seen opportunity here because he rose quickly from printer’s apprentice to top man at The Day. Bodenwein became both a steward of New London’s past and a cheerleader for her future.

Just a few of his good works included campaigning to bring Connecticut College to New London, the development of State Pier, and support for New London’s massive 250th birthday party. He designed his will to secure The Day’s future as an independent newspaper and established a benevolent foundation to serve the people of New London County.

In 1934 Bodenwein commissioned Barnard Colby, a young staff reporter, to write a series of articles on the history of New London whaling. He felt it was urgent to capture these precious stories from the few surviving sea captains or their children, before they were lost forever. (The articles were published by the Mystic Seaport as a book, “For Oil and Buggy Whips,” in 1990.)

Bodenwein seems to have believed in preserving even small historical details. Colman Street’s backstory may be just one tiny thread in the tapestry of New London’s past, but every thread in that tapestry makes the picture that much richer.

Carol Sommer of Waterford is a self-proclaimed history nut. She writes a monthly history column inspired by local street signs.