Every spring, Leadership Upper Valley, a program of Vital Communities, hosts its annual Heroes & Leaders Celebration to recognize individuals who make extraordinary contributions to the Upper Valley. This year’s 25th-anniversary event on May 30 honored 12 leaders who add immeasurably to the vitality of the region, including several inspiring neighbors from right here in Norwich.

Penny McConnel and Liza Bernard

Adapted from remarks by Allan Reetz of the Hanover Co-op Food Stores

If there were a book about The Norwich Bookstore and its founders and co-owners, Liza Bernard and Penny McConnel, it would impart lasting lessons of business and community. The dust jacket and inside pages would be lined with praise from organizational leaders highlighting how, for instance, Penny and Liza are “cornerstones of the New England bookselling community.” There would be heartfelt local testimonials about each woman’s “abiding effort to address community needs beyond their own.”

Since they opened their bookstore on August 1, 1994, they’ve been purveyors of knowledge. As partners and solo actors, they’ve enlightened us at readings with celebrated authors. For 25 years, they’ve been tireless in reviewing, offering, recommending, and special-ordering essential books beyond our counting. And they pushed back when Amazon came stomping across the retail front-yards of small booksellers everywhere. Independent bookstores are thriving again.

Norwich Bookstore founders Penny McConnel
and Liza Bernard were honored for their
contributions to a vital local economy and
more at the Heroes & Leaders event.

Beyond literary pursuits, each woman is also known for civic passions… As one longtime local told me, Liza and Penny are the type of people who are vital to any town, city or village; they are the ones who step up to direct resources, attention, and their time to important matters. They are also “the ringleaders who instigate culture and a more informed community.”

Vermont State Representative
Peter Welch, an early Board
member for Vital Communities

One served as community advisor to Vermont Public Radio, the other chaired Local First Alliance at a critical juncture. Each makes time to assist libraries, youth, the arts and humanities, senior housing, and conservation. Oh, and they raised children along the way.

The story of Penny McConnel and Liza Bernard is set in the Norwich Bookstore, yet its chapters of impact stretch well beyond our region.

Liza and Penny, we honor you – as individuals – and together as founders and co-owners. You are leaders – and yes, ring-leaders – instigators for things that are good in our communities. For all you’ve done within and outside of the Norwich Bookstore, we thank you.

Stan Williams

Adapted from remarks by Clay Adams of Mascoma Bank

Clay Adams, Mascoma Bank CEO and
Vital Communities’ Corporate Council
member, honored Stan Williams

There are many reasons people choose to uproot themselves from urban areas to live in rural Vermont. Chief among these reasons are quality of life and accessibility to the outdoors. What you will not typically find on this list is accessibility to fast, dependable internet service. However, thanks to the efforts of Stan Williams, this has changed in our region.

Nearly a century ago, Vermont, like many other parts of America, was attempting to electrify its less populated areas so they could participate in the modern economy of that time. Just as dairy farmers then could not bring their milk to market, today knowledge workers who choose to work from home in Vermont cannot participate in the 21st-century economy. More importantly, the school-aged children who live along these picturesque stretches of Vermont roadside have difficulty fully participating in their education.

It was not until EC Fiber arrived on the scene that we had any hope of being part of the 21st century.

Outgoing Vital Communities Board Chair
Jenny Levy of Norwich
gave the keynote remarks

Stan Williams, the ValleyNet Board Chair and CFO, has been a consistent force behind EC Fiber. This is why we are here to recognize him tonight. Stan found himself working in the cellular communications industry as it exploded internationally. As he looked toward the second act of his career, instead of pursuing financial gain, Stan chose a path that “his children and grandchildren would be proud of.”

Stan Willaims of EC Fiber
was honored among 12 community
members who add to the vitality
of the Upper Valley.

In 2007, Stan and others connected to ValleyNet began to consider how to provide rural communities in eastern Vermont with broadband internet access. EC Fiber was born. The timing could not have been worse. Once the Great Recession started, the commitments were pulled, and the EC Fiber team was left to rely on their own ingenuity and resources.

In true Vermont fashion, they provided a solution, raising $1M in 2011 from members of the ValleyNet management team and acquaintances. In the years to come, they built on this model, raising funds as private placement promissory notes in $2,500 chunks from Vermonters who wanted their neighborhoods to join the 21st century.

Fast forward eight years, and they have connected more than 3,000 customers in rural Vermont to high-speed fiber-optic technology. Moreover, they have the plans and capability to connect the remaining unserved premises in their service area by 2020. Stan has been one of the many innovative, understated, and dedicated leaders behind ValleyNet and EC Fiber who has applied hard-earned experience from a world away to make the Upper Valley a more sustainable and vibrant economy.

Residents of a Region

Betty Porter, founder
of Vital Communities.

Norwich residents Betty Porter and Anne Silberfarb were also recognized at Heroes & Leaders as founders of Vital Communities, which celebrates its 25th anniversary this year.

Anne Silberfarb,
VC founding member

“In 1993, the Valley News published an editorial encouraging readers to ‘think of themselves not only as residents of an individual town or state, but of a region’ – the Upper Valley – and to work together to protect the things that make this place special,” Vital Communities executive director Tom Roberts said at the event.

“That editorial, and the powerful action of a small group of women led by Betty Porter, sparked the beginnings of Vital Communities.

“…With Delia Clark and the staff who followed, they convened community members – creating spaces where people could listen to and learn from each other. They created an experience of place – one that defines and honors this unique region we call the Upper Valley. They created a community-led approach to making positive change while preserving the essential character of our towns and landscape. They facilitated connections among towns, organizations, and residents that continue to flourish today – much to the benefit of everyone who lives and works in our region.”

An inconspicuous and little-known migratory songbird drew me to Cuba three winters ago. The island’s people and landscape captured me, and have kept me coming back.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Cuba’s birds – both resident and migrant – and the places they live are a huge draw for me. They’ve led me to the island’s highest peak at 6,476 feet elevation, and taken me to remote cloud forests where humans had probably never tread. But, my most enduring memories invariably involve my local colleagues, now my friends.

We’ve shared the thrill of discoveries; the humor needed for a fifth consecutive dinner of instant mashed Until recently, VCE’s efforts centered on Hispaniola – especially the Dominican Republic – where 80-90% of the planet’s approximately 100,000 Bicknell’s Thrushes overwinter. Unraveling this globally vulnerable species’ fascinating and complex ecology has highlighted an urgent need to protect its fragile winter habitats. With human populations growing and conservation resources scarce, the odds often seem insurmountable. VCE and our many local allies are working hard to stem the mounting tide of habitat loss on Hispaniola; there is no question that rangewide conservation efforts need to focus there.

But, what about the other three islands where Bicknell’s Thrush spend six to seven months each year – Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Jamaica? For any migratory animal – whether a Monarch butterfly, a potatoes; the crushing exertion of plodding up steep slopes under heavy backpacks; the exhilaration of Cuban Solitaires chorusing on a mountaintop amidst swirling clouds; and the simple pleasure of lively banter. I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten the best part of the ‘deal’ from a deepening relationship with my Cuban counterparts, but I feel confident that I’ve given something back as well.

First, some context. Since 1994, I’ve spearheaded bird conservation work in the Caribbean Greater Antilles – Cuba, Hispaniola, Jamaica, Puerto Rico – through the Vermont Center for Ecostudies (VCE), located right here in Norwich. Our primary conservation target is a rare, secretive, migratory songbird – the Bicknell’s Thrush – which nests on mountaintops in New York and New England, and spends its winters only on these four islands. The species is an ‘umbrella’ for conservation of the high-elevation forests where it lives – both in the north and south – meaning that if we protect Bicknell’s Thrush well, we conserve a host of other unique flora and fauna.

VCE’s work has featured a blend of cutting-edge science, on-the-ground habitat protection, and capacity-building of local partners. That approach has produced remarkable discoveries, helped focus attention on threatened biodiversity hotspots, and trained a new cadre of conservation professionals. It has been an immensely rewarding aspect of my career as an ornithologist, but most vital to me are the associated human relationships that have enriched my life.

Until recently, VCE’s efforts centered on Hispaniola – especially the Dominican Republic – where 80-90% of the planet’s approximately 100,000 Bicknell’s Thrushes overwinter. Unraveling this globally vulnerable species’ fascinating and complex ecology has highlighted an urgent need to protect its fragile winter habitats. With human populations growing and conservation resources scarce, the odds often seem insurmountable. VCE and our many local allies are working hard to stem the mounting tide of habitat loss on Hispaniola; there is no question that rangewide conservation efforts need to focus there.

But, what about the other three islands where Bicknell’s Thrush spend six to seven months each year – Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Jamaica? For any migratory animal – whether a Monarch butterfly, a thrush or a caribou – we must understand the species’ status across the entire annual cycle if we are to effectively conserve it. For Bicknell’s Thrush, we long suspected that eastern Cuba might harbor a secondary ‘mother lode’ of birds in winter, especially in the remote high-elevation forests of Sierra Maestra.

Never one to shy away from a challenge, always eager to exercise our signature ‘brute force biology’ tactics, VCE undertook what has now become a three-year study to determine the distribution and abundance of Bicknell’s Thrush in eastern Cuba. Our first step was to identify a reliable local partner with a strong ornithological resumé. We found that and much more in Centro Oriental de Ecosistemas y Biodiversidad (BIOECO), with whom we have forged a strong and dynamic collaboration. It turns out that obtaining visas and in-country permits to work in Cuba has been our greatest obstacle!

During early 2017, after weeks of uncertain waiting, our visas suspended in bureaucratic limbo, my VCE colleague John Lloyd and I finally touched Cuban soil in late March. Two days later, we were straining under heavy backpacks on the steep ascent to Pico Turquino, Cuba’s highest mountain. Enveloped by lush, pristine cloud forest – as Cuban Trogons, Todies, and Solitaires serenaded us – we sallied forth daily in the pre-dawn with headlamps, conducting surveys of more than 100 points for Bicknell’s Thrush. And, we found… exactly zero birds. Disappointing, yes. Surprising, not really. Intriguing, definitely. We knew our timing was late and that some thrushes on Hispaniola begin moving off their winter territories in April. Had we arrived a month or two earlier as planned, we’re guessing we’d have found birds. As always, questions outnumbered answers, and a second winter beckoned.

Encouraged by my gung-ho BIOECO colleagues (and with funding from the Canadian Wildlife Service), I returned in January 2018 for another foray to Pico Turquino’s uppermost slopes. This time, we found Bicknell’s Thrushes – seven to be exact, two of which we banded – in the cloud-drenched forests at elevations of 5,600-6,250 feet. Not exactly a mother lode, but a respectable total, though far fewer than we expected to find in these extensive, untrammeled forests. My Cuban associates joined me in feeling both encouraged and perplexed, but determined to persevere in our quest.

To our east, the island’s largest tract of unbroken cloud forest in Parque Nacional Bayamesa awaited exploration.

So it was that I found myself this past January with four hardy BIOECO team members, all of us shouldering heavy backpacks, plodding resolutely upslope to the trailless wilderness of Bayamesa. Specifically, we hoped to reach two peaks that, as far as anyone can determine, had never been visited by humans. If any region of Sierra Maestra harbored a concentration of overwintering Bicknell’s Thrushes, Bayamesa’s virgin cloud forests seemed like our best bet. Over the next week, from a base camp at 5,000 feet we hiked up and over Pico Bayamesa each day, braving rain, chilly temperatures, treacherously steep slopes, soaked vegetation, and chronically wet boots. My machete-wielding colleagues made steady but slow progress, though we had to call it quits well short of our goal – the 10-kilometer-distant Pico Maceo. However, we claimed a measure of victory with the discovery of seven new Bicknell’s Thrushes, three of which we banded. Instant mashed potatoes, freeze-dried spaghetti, and insanely-sweetened camp coffee never tasted so good! There is no substitute for team work under adverse conditions, and our camaraderie forged indelible memories. My Cuban friends’ irrepressibly good humor, physical stamina, dynamic optimism, resiliency, and prodigious field skills were nothing short of inspiring.

To wrap up the Bicknell’s Thrush story (for now), what can we say about this elusive songbird in eastern Cuba after three winters on the island? First, it is clear that Cuba offers this species nowhere near the stronghold that Hispaniola does, despite its abundance of suitable, intact cloud forest habitat. Second, Cuba’s protected areas are in exceptionally good shape and provide Bicknell’s Thrush a far more secure winter refuge than elsewhere in its restricted winter range – I can only wish that more birds overwintered there! And third, we’re far from having all the answers. Much work remains to be done, and my Cuban colleagues are eager to lead the charge, and to keep me involved – that suits me just fine.

To conclude with a few reflections on the remarkable Cuban people, I’m deeply struck by the way they value life and the simple pleasures life offers to us all. These are people who have relatively little, and scant opportunities for material gains under the island’s long-standing Communist political system. To me, the lack of visible socioeconomic class distinctions – which I witnessed in Santiago de Cuba and every outlying rural area we visited – is truly refreshing. I’m convinced it promotes harmony, community, and a sense of social compassion. People are genuine, caring, generous, and respectful. No one is hurrying, hustling, competing. We could learn a lot from Cubans.

I’m left with a genuine sense of humility from my experiences on Cuba, not only for the opportunity to visit the island’s most remote and majestic wilderness areas, but by my extraordinarily good fortune to advance conser­vation science with dedicated, talented, and fun-loving Cuban colleagues, now my lifelong friends.

Michael McCarthy in his book Moth Snowstorm remembers evening drives when moths filled the headlights like snowflakes in a blizzard. Memories of summer always include sounds of insect life, children happily chasing butterflies and catching lightening bugs.

Insects have undergone a severe, largely unnoticed decline over at least three decades. Scientists have now documented the decline and studied its causes. A 2017 study in Germany, revealed a shocking 76% decline in insect biomass in nature preserves. Fewer insects are present, and their ranges are restricted. A review study published this month in Biological Conservation reports that 40% of insect species worldwide are threatened with extinction. Butterflies (Lepidoptera), wasps and bees (Hymenoptera), and dung beetles (Coleoptera) are most affected. The reasons for the decline include habitat loss to intensive agriculture and urbanization, pesticides, fungicides and fertilizers; invasive species; and climate change. A few common and generalist species are increasing in number, occupying vacant ecological niches, but they are unlikely to be adequate substitutes.

Three broad categories of insects – decomposers, carnivores, and herbivores – support life on earth. Decomposers feed on dead or rotten plants, animals, and excrement clearing waste, recycling nutrients, and building humus. Carnivores prey on or parasitize other animals. We rely on insect carnivores for integrated pest management. Herbivores include pollinators and leaf-eating insects. Pollinators are necessary for plant regeneration, including many foods we eat. Leaf-eating insects and the insects that prey on them are essential diets for a wide range of birds, mammals, reptiles, and amphibians. Indeed, our nesting birds feed leaf-eating insects to their young in spring when no seeds are available. In addition to documented decreases in animal life because of fewer insects, scientists anticipate further cascading effects on animal populations. A mass extinction of insects will result in a mass extinction of animals and affect human populations, too.

What can we do to stop the insect decline?

We can increase insect habitat by:

1. Planting native species. While some generalist pollinators will visit non-native plants, leaf-eating insects and specialist pollinators rely often exclusively on plants they evolved with. Without those native plants, they starve. Plant many different species in a succession of bloom times from early spring to late fall. Think shrubs and trees, not just flowers. Find some of the best native plants by visiting Doug Tallamy’s website Bringing Nature Home or the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center. Look for our insect display coming soon to the Norwich Post Office.
2. Do not spray with herbicides, fungicides, or pesticides, especially neonicotinoids, which are highly toxic to bees. Use the Xerces Society website to print out the names of neonicotinoids so you can avoid them. Insist on plants and seeds that are neonicotinoid-free. Use horticultural oils if you have to spray.
3. Leave bare ground. Many native solitary bees are ground-nesting and require bare soil. These are not yellow jackets. They do not sting.
4. Reduce your lawn and increase edge habitat. Raise your lawn mower as high as possible, mow infrequently, and leave clippings on the lawn. Leave as much ‘natural’ edge as possible.
5. Reduce deer overbrowse by using repellents such as Liquid Fence, fencing, or support measures to reduce local deer populations to sustainable levels.

Support agricultural practices that benefit insects. Buy organic as much as possible. Buy from farms that use regenerative and pollinator-friendly farming practices.

Remove invasive species and avoid planting non-natives as much as possible.

Adopt practices and support policies and procedures that reduce climate change and pollution. Although insects in New England are somewhat less susceptible to climate change than those in the tropics, they are under stress from many sources. Pollution from sewer plants and farming have serious effects on insects, especially aquatic insects.

Participate in citizen science projects involving insects. Vermont Center for Ecostudies is starting a bumblebee surveying project that should include our area by 2020. You can contribute to iNaturalist Vermont and eButterfly. Details are at the Vermont Center for Ecostudies website.

Much has been written about Alden Partridge, who established Norwich University (first known as the American Literary, Scientific, and Military Academy) on the town green in 1819. He was a great leader and an innovative educator. But what was life like for the teenage scholars attending the University who left their homes hundreds of miles away and sought an education in rural Vermont? Where did they live? What did they study? What did they think of Norwich?

The South Barracks before and after the 1866 fire.

Fortunately, many of the early school catalogs, student letters, and diaries have survived to this day, and from them, it’s not difficult to sketch out the daily life of the students while they studied in Norwich nearly 200 years ago.

“Here I am in the region of snow drifts once more!” Edward Stanley Abbot wrote his mother in late March of 1862 soon after he arrived to begin the spring term. “I got here this afternoon and have established myself to my satisfaction in this frowsy country village… I am to board close to the Academy (“Barracks” they call it here) at Mrs. Dowe’s, a comfortable house and clever people apparently. I am to have a nice large parlor and a snug little sleeping room at the enormous sum of half a dollar a week!”

Once Abbot arranged his housing and meals he began his classes. With Partridge as the superintendent, the cadets were introduced to a “vigorous course of study.” The faculty was a talented one and offered over a dozen courses that included everything from astronomy to civil engineering as well as five foreign languages. In addition, the cadets were “correctly instructed in the elementary school of the soldier…” with a system of discipline that was “strict, but correct.”

Students slept in large barracks that were located on the green. According to the school manual, “The students (were) required to sleep on mattresses, or straw-beds; no featherbeds… allowed…” Cadets boarded (ate their meals) “at respectable and genteel houses in the village.” The quality of the meals varied greatly and the young men were never hesitant to critique the local fare. In 1824 in a letter to his family, John Hancock described his New Year’s day meal. “This day we had a turkey at our boarding house for the first time since I arrived here. It weighed ten-and-a-half pounds and ten boarders soon demolished it and went off complaining of being hungry. For my part, I only had one tuff drumstick – slim dinner for all of us…” By the end of April, young Hancock had moved to another boarding house run by the Emerson family. “I went to dinner for the first time at this place and must acknowledge I did not think there was any house in the village that could produce such good victuals… Warm cakes at breakfast and supper and… the butter, too, must not be passed over without giving it the eulogy it deserves. It is yellow, cut handsome and stamped very handsomely.”

A young cadet, class of 1864.

While meals were definitely on the mind of the cadets, a tight military schedule kept them busy. A typical day was outlined by William Davis in 1842. He woke at 5am to the beating of a drum and attended roll call. Breakfast was at 6:30, followed by “prayers and lecture by Capt. Partridge.” Classes ran from 8:30 until the noon meal. At 3pm, “…We were paraded in streets by Adjutant (Partridge)… until 5. He marched us to the Hotel and treated us to a glass of wine. Went upon guard at 1/2 past seven – and staid on until 10. I came into my quarters this evening more fatigued than usual. Studied until nearly 12 and then retired to rest-taking soldier comfort lying upon the hard floor. Quite a luxury…”

But outside of classes and hours of marching, many cadets learned to enjoy what Norwich had to offer. In the winter, the young men skated on the flooded parade ground and some ventured out on the Connecticut River “where there is elegant skating.” The cadets purchased maple syrup from the villagers, others swapped “old pantaloons, coats, etc.” for the syrup. Often winter dances were planned, but due to the fickle weather, many were canceled as was the case in late February of 1824. “This is Washington’s birthday and the cadets contemplated having a ball tomorrow eve… but owing to the freshet and several other disasters, the bridges being carried away and no girls are in place…we shall have to abandon the idea.”

For cadets like Abbot who grew up in Boston, Norwich quickly lost its appeal during mud season. “As for the place itself, Norwich may be best described as an enormous pig sty,” he wrote. “Filth, nothing but filth, all over town owing to the fact that we are thawing out. I stay in the house all the time since it is sheer impossibility to walk the street, and the weather is too cold as yet for me to wear nothing but swimming drawers and paddle round town.” Yet his mood changed, as it does for most Vermonters when spring finally arrived. “I no longer live in a pig sty,” he began in a late May letter. “Norwich is most beautiful, within the last three days, the bare unsightly trees have put on the verdure of the soft spring foliage, the grass and flowers have risen from their graves…”

Once the weather warmed up, skirmishes often erupted between the cadets and the students at Dartmouth College. The ‘Darties’ were not impressed by the marching and uniforms of the Norwich students and often pelted the cadets with eggs when they ventured into Hanover. And the cadets were disdainful of the civilian college across the Connecticut River.

In June of 1839, 100 Dartmouth students in a long column of fours, marched into Norwich and attempted to enter the Norwich University grounds before they returned to Hanover. “Our gate was guarded,” recalled one cadet. “The sticks and canes carried by the invaders proved ineffective in the assault against the bayonets of the guard. The invaders, after a short struggle, broke in retreat and were not pursued. Spoils of the history consisted of cursed silk hats and two or three walking sticks.”

The cadets did not take the “nighttime invasion” lightly and returned the favor a few weeks later by marching in full uniform to the Dartmouth campus. With 150 men, three snare drums, three fifes, and a bugle, they formed one column and “struck out for the land of our enemy, Captain Partridge in command.”

After crossing the bridge, the cadets marched up the hill. Around the green, “the roads and grounds were filled and progress was difficult, and here was where we expected trouble… We would not resent jeers, hisses, or insulting remarks, but drew the line at stones and brickbats. We knew why we had fixed bayonets and why our arms were at carry. We were ready for an emergency – none came… Emerging from the crowd, we marched to the end of the village, then we countermarched and took our way homeward; our band playing Yankee Doodle.”

The hostilities ebbed as the Civil War approached. Students from both schools met and formed political clubs and presidential candidates were jointly supported. At a mixed meeting held in Hanover shortly before the war, a Dartmouth student proclaimed, “We must acknowledge that you are not only our equals in classic and scientific attainments, but our superiors in this, that you can buckle on the sword and lead men in this conflict, while we must shoulder the musket.”

Norwich Cadets

Cadets left Norwich University to fight or help organize state militias once the Civil War began. The entire class of 1862 enlisted upon graduation. By the end of the war, over 600 Norwich alumni served in the Union Army while 40 cadets fought for the Confederacy. One of those who fought for the Union was Edward Abbot, who wrote so eloquently about his experiences in the “frowsy” little village of Norwich. Within weeks of his graduation in the summer of 1862, he became an officer in the Union Army. The next summer, while leading his men near Little Round Top at the battle of Gettysburg, he was shot and died soon afterward from his wounds. He was 22 years old.

The story of cadet life in Norwich came to a close on the evening of March 14, 1866, when a fire broke out in the South Barracks. The cadets scrambled to save the books and furniture and set up a bucket brigade; but the blaze was too powerful and the building was a total loss. Soon after the fire, the University moved to Northfield, Vermont, where the prosperous railway center made a generous offer to help rebuild the military school.

Never again did young cadets march up Main Street to hear Partridge speak from his home or protect the campus from an invasion of Darties. No longer did the citizens of Norwich visit with cadets at the village store, watch them skate on the river, or have them as guests for a New Year’s meal. The University was in Norwich for less than 50 years, but it made an impact. One has to wonder what the town would be like if it had remained.

Drop into Norwich Historical Society this summer to see the exhibit “The Education of Citizen Soldiers: Norwich University turns 200.”

Several of the photos in this article were used courtesy of Norwich University Archives, Northfield, Vermont.