The Montowese House closed in 1963. It was one of the last of the guilded age high society hotels in town that sat on the bluffs overlooking the Sound. Mark Twain would vacation there, bringing along with him a 6-foot bath tub. In May, 1961, my father attended a folk festival at the Montowese. It would be almost another 2 years before he realized who the scrawny jewish kid singing all the Woody Guthrie songs was.