The Tasha family is so closely associated with the Tasha Hill compound on Howland Street, and the dune shack that passed to the Tashas from the poet Harry Kemp, that it’s almost surprising to find another family landmark. But here it is, in a mid-19th-century home that has — mercifully — not yet been gussied up. This was the home of John Tasha (d 1954), a fisherman and Grand Banker who had come to Provincetown at 14 from São Miguel in the Azores, and his wife, Mary (Carlos) Tasha. It was also home to Mary Tasha’s brother, Capt. Antone “Tony” Carlos (d 1955), the foreman at the Consolidated Weir Company plant, and his wife, Catherine (Days) Carlos (d 1932).
Tasha’s son, Herman J. Tasha, also lived here with his wife, Rose “Sunny” (Savage) Tasha. Advertisements for Sunny’s Nursery — “Swimming Lessons, Nature Study, All Things Children Like” — appeared in The Advocate in 1933. Even though the center of gravity in family life shifted over to Tasha Hill, this property remains in the family.
Its occupants left their mark. Two years after Captain Carlos died, Kemp wrote a poem celebrating him as a fixture of the Bradford Street scene, in a chair in his front yard.
Don’t take his chair in; let it stay outside
Where still the four horizons broaden wide:
He belonged there; and there he chose to sit
Till strong rain swept him, or extreme cold bit,
Or high winds rose to rock each anchored boat —
Then he would only fetch a heavier coat.
You say he’s GONE? I don’t accept your saying;
He, like our Monument, was built for staying,
For every time I walk up Bradford Street,
I find him sitting in his outdoor seat;
A thicker substance gathers out of air;
Again I feel the old man sitting there!