(HOST) According to commentator Edith Hunter, reading a town’s current history can sometimes be as easy as taking a ride.
(HUNTER) Between 1971 and 1986, when my husband and I were publishing the Weathersfield Weekly, I was not only the editor and reporter, I was also the paper girl. My husband, Armstrong, was not only publisher and layout man, he was also the printer.
On Friday afternoons, with the printing completed, I would drive the papers to our two post offices and to our six local outlets. Both post offices have since moved, one out of our two population centers. Of the six outlets, three have closed (two were in general stores). Both developments have added to the gradual loss of a sense of community.
Our little newspaper concentrated on Weathersfield news. I used to say that if the President of the United States came to Weathersfield, we would report it. But if he came to adjacent Springfield or Windsor, we would only report it if someone from Weathersfield attended. But we reported all our select board, school board, planning and zoning meetings. Most importantly, we reported most births, graduations, marriages, and deaths. I knew a large proportion of our 2500 residents.
As I drove about on my Friday afternoon paper route, I could read the history of Weathersfield in the making. A new sign, “Handicrafts” indicated that Mrs. X was finally realizing her dream of selling some of her crafts. Not such a happy sight was the new ramp leading to Mr Y’s front door indicating that old Mr. Y had finally taken to a wheel chair. And a “For Sale” sign told me that following our reported death of Mr Z, Mrs Z was selling out and moving to her daughter’s in Massachusetts.
I could read all kinds of stories in the wash hung on the line – tiny undershirts and sleepers indicated that the baby whose arrival we had announced, was apparently doing nicely. A new swing set in the yard told me that the children in this family were growing apace. And a new basketball hoop announced even further advance.
I watched gardens go in, flourish, and be harvested; additions made to old houses, and a few new houses built.
We have lost all but one of the nine dairy farms that we still had in 1980. And yet we have retained most of the open fields on which those dairy cows used to graze. Beef cattle, heifers, sheep, llamas, and alpacas graze in some, while others are kept open by landowners eager to have us retain our rural character.
I enjoyed reading our local history as I drove on my paper route. It has been a lovely town to be part of.
Writer and historian Edith Hunter lives in Weathersfield Center.