In October 2018, Nick Krembs, a retired carpenter and builder from Norwich, traveled to the United States border in El Paso, Texas. That year marked a huge surge in migrants seeking asylum from their home countries. Due to the drug cartels, corrupt police, torture, oppression, gang violence, and abuse, as well as the devastation and destruction of farms and their livelihoods from hurricanes – they fled.

Krembs’s sister, Jane Greiling, a retired nurse, had been volunteering in El Paso with the Annunciation House: a faith-based nonprofit organization that provides shelter, clothing, and food to migrants predominantly from Mexico and Central America. Krembs joined her for two weeks at the border and volunteered in the migrant shelter, Casa Vides in El Paso.

• • • • •

One day, Krembs met Hugo in the “Ropa room” of the Casa Vides shelter. Hugo, 50, was traveling alone, seeking asylum from oppression in Guatemala. He had never been to the U.S. before. Loud, warm, and jovial despite his circumstances, Hugo immediately took on a self-appointed, leadership role in the shelter: taking care of other migrants, guiding, and reassuring them. He consistently offered to help the volunteer staff with housekeeping duties as well. Though Hugo had never lived anywhere cold, he was trying to reach extended family sponsoring his asylum in Chicago.

Despite a language barrier, Krembs, who speaks little Spanish, sought to prepare Hugo for the polar vortex of subzero temperatures he was about to face. In a tropical country like Guatemala, any temperature below 70 degrees feels cold. Hugo was about to move to Chicago in the dead of winter. They sorted through the Ropa room and found a large wool overcoat for Hugo. “Perfecto,” said Krembs.

• • • • •

After he returned to his home in Norwich, “the need gnawed at me,” said Krembs. So, he went back to the border – this time for eight weeks: from December 2018 through January 2019.

• • • • •

The Casa Vides is a rectangular red brick structure with two floors. Adults with children are roomed together. Otherwise, women have dormitory rooms on the first floor and men on the second. Each floor has just two shared bathrooms with showers. There were always lines of people in the halls. Their moods were often somber except for the children who ran, shrieking through the halls with siblings and new friends.

Bussed directly from the ICE detention centers, the migrants Krembs met – dirty, hungry, anxious, and tired with nothing but what they could carry – were the lucky ones. Others had been denied entry and deported back to their home countries. For permission to enter the U.S., the migrants had to show proof of sponsorship: a family, relative, friend, or a private organization or charitable group.

As though they were criminals on parole, ICE put ankle bracelets on many of the adult asylum-seekers; tracking them even though they had committed no crime. The migrants arrived at the border with few possessions. Some had spare clothes in a plastic garbage bag, but that was it. Rarely did any have money.

Krembs didn’t see any intact families. He saw fathers with children, mothers with children, and children who had been separated at the border as well as unaccompanied minors sent alone by their parents. Due to sacrifices and the costs to get to the border, as well as the border rules and restrictions set by the Trump administration, families were often split apart by the time they reached the shelters.

A huge, “Bienvenidos” sign and big, empathetic smiles from the volunteers greeted migrants upon their arrival at the shelters. They were promptly interviewed and volunteers set to the task of connecting them with their friends and family in the U.S.; their final destinations.

The migrants were each given a bar of soap and a towel and assigned to rooms with bunk beds – up to eight people per room at a time. Travel arrangements were made and paid for by sponsoring host families, relatives, or organizations. So, after two or three days at the shelter, the migrants took a bus or plane to their temporary new homes where they would start the process of applying for asylum.

In addition to offering hospitality; cooking, preparing meals, cleaning, and helping migrants get clean clothing, Krembs shuttled eight passengers in a van two or three times a day to the airport and the bus terminal. And still, he felt compelled to do more.

• • • • •

Once back home in Vermont, Krembs joined The Upper Valley Refugee Working Group, a 501c3 nonprofit organization based in Hanover, NH. This organization provides sanctuary and assists immigrants residing in the Upper Valley with acquiring basic subsistence with help from volunteers and financial support in the form of an Immigrant Community Support Fund. There he met and became friends with two other volunteers, Dr. Dean Seibert, also of Norwich, a retired physician and professor from Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical School, and Bill Ploog of Lyme, NH.

The three united in a shared mission to improve the lives of asylum-seekers in the U.S. by using the resources and connections they have in the Upper Valley.

“I returned to El Paso each time knowing I could do little to change the gang violence, government neglect, and climate disasters that drove all these people to flee their homeland,” said Krembs. “The action I could take is to show compassion and accompany them in seeking asylum in the US. I can do this here, where I live, as the sponsor of a few of those coming to our border seeking asylum.”

Krembs is 76. Seibert will be 89 this August. However, their ages do not impede them from actively engaging in each step of this life transforming mission, both for the asylees and for themselves.

“This work gives my life purpose,” said Krembs.

• • • • •

And so, in 2020, along with Seibert and Ploog, Krembs formed SHARe: Supporting Helping Asylees and Refugees. (The ‘e’ is small and silent.) SHARe is now an all-volunteer, non-sectarian, non-profit, tax-exempt 501c3 organization. Their goal is that by mid-summer, they will start supporting up to five individuals or a family from any country, to gain asylum in the U.S. “The procedure to do so is much more complex and involved than many realize,” said Krembs.

Filing for asylum takes four to six months. After filing, it can take up to four years to receive asylum. During that time, a person needs to gain a permit to work, which can take up to a year. Until granted a work permit, the individual cannot work legally in the U.S. Unlike refugees who are granted permission to enter the U.S. while in their home countries, and once here, are given governmental support from the State Department, asylum seekers are completely on their own. They must depend on aid from family, private organizations, and/or generous donors.

According to Krembs, there is a backlog of some 1.2 million pending cases in federal immigration courts. Not until a case is adjudicated in a federal court – which can take months or years – can a person become declared a legal immigrant.

• • • • •

In the spring of 2019, the border was essentially closed to anyone trying to enter the U.S.

The border patrol went from allowing 100 to 400 migrants per day into the country to none. All migrants were forced to stay in Mexico. Now, the sentiment toward migrants has shifted and the border is reopened allowing a new influx of people seeking asylum.

SHARe’s primary focus is to find host housing in the Upper Valley for an initial six months or longer, to help support asylum-seekers while they apply for asylum. Once settled, SHARe aims to connect the asylum seekers with pro-bono legal services, English as a Second Language classes, schooling for their children, and clothing, as well as health and medical services.

“The goal is to get those initial five people set up with the support systems they need to live and work comfortably in the Upper Valley while they await asylum,” said Krembs. “We want to help migrants gain asylum and ultimately equip them to become self-sufficient in their lives here.”

Eventually, Krembs, Seibert, and Ploog aim to create a pipeline so that at any given time, there will be at least five asylees receiving SHARe’s assistance in the Upper Valley.

• • • • •

Dr. Dean Seibert has been visiting Honduras twice per year every year for the past 25.

Through his volunteer work with the non-profit ACTS Honduras: Americans Caring Teaching Sharing, Seibert has helped send teams of five to six medical professionals and aid workers per year to El Rosario, a farming village in northwestern Honduras.

The volunteer teams from ACTS now assist the people of El Rosario and a dozen surrounding communities not only with medical care but also with community development including; improving agricultural practices, creating safe drinking water systems and latrines, economic diversification, and access to expanded opportunities for education.

ACTS teams have built trust and developed close working relationships with the people of El Rosario to improve their lives with sustainable solutions for future generations. But still, in most other parts of Honduras, corruption, crime, and poverty prevail.

According to Seibert, a 2016 report by the Carnegie Foundation deemed Honduras a Kleptocracy – meaning, all of the governing bodies within the country: the military, police, gangs, and oligarchs depend on each other to function and survive – thus, mixing corrupt with non-corrupt powers all in the same soil. And so, people’s only option is to flee. The conditions of their daily lives – violence, abuse, starvation, illness, poverty – are so bad that they would opt to risk the treacherous journey to the U.S. border and end up in detention centers or worse, rather than staying in their homeland.

• • • • •

In a tented parking lot, outside a converted elementary school, now a community center and shelter, El Centro San Juan Diego, a line of migrants stood waiting for food. As he prepared to help distribute the food, Krembs connected eyes with a young mother holding a three-year-

old girl. To his surprise, she smiled. Krembs smiled back. He took off one of his blue rubber gloves and blew it up to look like a turkey balloon. He held it out and gave it to the three-year-old. Her eyes lit up and she giggled with glee. n

If you would like to donate your time or skills, or are interested in becoming a volunteer host family, please reach out to SHARe via email them at shareVTNH@gmail.com.

Four years ago, a group of area poets was offered the opportunity to explore the collections of the Norwich Historical Society to find inspiration for an original poem to present at an NHS event “Poets and the Past.” Phyllis B. Katz, a Norwich resident at the time, and a professor and poet at Dartmouth College, asked if there were archives about medicine. With the help of local historians, Nancy Osgood and Judy Brown, she was introduced to Norwich’s first female doctor, Edastina Bush, and guided to the Bush family archives. The poem she wrote, explained Phyllis “was triggered by things visible…in the Historical Society’s Lewis House… And inspired by things missing about Edastina that I wanted to be there but could not find.”

Edastina Bush was born on March 18, 1856, in Sharon, VT. Her father was an innkeeper and her mother stayed at home to raise Edastina, her sister, and two brothers. Fairbanks Bush, Edastina’s 95-year-old grandfather, also lived with the family. Fairbanks, known as “The Minstrel Poet of Norwich” was one of the earliest residents of Vermont to denounce slavery. He often sang his verses from memory, since many of his poems were never committed to writing. By 1870, the entire family, including Fairbanks, who lived to be 100, had moved to Norwich.

As a child, Edastina attended elementary school in Sharon. When she turned 16, she and her older sister Mary enrolled in the Norwich Classical and English Boarding School. It’s also possible that Edastina attended the Tilden Female Academy in West Lebanon. Overall, it’s clear the Bush family wanted to see their daughters have more career opportunities than most young women of the day.

Yet by 1880, 24-year-old Edastina was living with her sister Mary and Mary’s husband Edward Olds, in their home across the road from the Olds family store, which was located at the corner of Beaver Meadow Road and Main Street. Mary was soon to become the first librarian in town. As for Edastina, her occupation, according to the census that year, was “servant.”

Then in 1888, at the age of 32, Edastina Bush entered the College of Physicians and Surgeons on Boylston Street in Boston. No letters or family notes explain why Edastina headed off to medical school at this point in her life. But she may have been inspired by Elizabeth Blackwell, who in 1849 became the first woman to receive a medical degree in the U S. By 1870, there were about 550 trained female doctors in the United States. By 1900, there were more than 7,000, making up 5.5 percent of the total number of doctors in the country. The number of women listed as physicians was growing in Vermont as well. In 1870 there were only two female doctors in the state, while in 1880 there were twenty-seven. Edastina may have seen these figures and decided she wanted a career in the field of medicine.

“The College is the only regular Medical Institution in New England that admits both sexes to its privileges,” pointed out the catalog of the College of Physicians and Surgeons. “It has proven that medical co-education is a success, and, as yet, no embarrassments have arisen to prove that the presence of women in the lecture room, the laboratory, and the dissecting room, has not been productive of the very best results.”

The medical program was a rigorous three-year course where students had to pass “9 principal branches” that included classes in anatomy, obstetrics, and surgery. In addition, each student had to possess a “sufficient knowledge of Latin” and present an “original thesis in their own hand-writing.” Edastina probably lived near the campus on Boylston Street where “…good board, including room, fire, and light, can be obtained… from $4 to $7 per week.” The entire fee for the three-year course, when paid in advance, was $250.

Among Edastina’s belongings and papers in the NHS collection, the greatest number come from her medical school days, including three medical notebooks where she kept handwritten notes from each lecture she attended.

In her 1890 notebook, which contained notes on obstetrics and surgery, are several pages that dealt with medical advice and philosophy. “Drugs have their proper place in the practice of medicine,” began one page. “Some are valuable for their effect and others are valuable for the moral effect they have on the patient.” Another entry suggested “Treat the symptoms and the patient rather than the disease. Always have a definite object in view in prescribing medicine. Be accurate in giving directions to patients.”

There is also an extended list of dos and don’ts. “Answer calls promptly when possible. Don’t mix other businesses with the practice of medicine-it requires all one’s time and energies. Set apart some time every day for study. Read the current medical literature. One foreign publication like the London Times is advisable. Keep abreast of the times in all matters.”

There are even some tips on billing the patient. “Charge a reasonable price and collect it [her underline]. Do not set your prices at fifty cents, if others in your vicinity charge a dollar.”

Edastina, the only candidate from Vermont, along with seven women and thirteen men, graduated from the College of Physicians and Surgeons in the spring of 1891. Soon after her graduation, she was issued her Vermont medical license which stated that she was “qualified in the following branches of the medical profession, Medicine, Obstetrics, and Surgery.”

With her studies behind her and her license in hand, Dr. Bush was ready to practice medicine in Norwich. But it was not to be. Tragically, Edastina’s sister, Mary Olds, died suddenly in 1892, leaving her husband Edward and two children behind. Putting her new career on the back burner, Edastina moved back in with the Olds family to help raise the children, as Phyllis Katz described in her poem:

My sister dead, I was called

to keep her home, her children,

a servant in their house,

no room there for the life

I’d planned.

But what happened to her budding medical career? Did it really end before it even began? The only mention of Edastina as a doctor comes from the 1900 census. She was 43 and still lived with her brother-in-law and two teenage children. Her occupation was listed as “housekeeper/physician.” Yet there is no town record of her practicing medicine at that time.

A Norwich physician who could have crossed paths with Edastina w as Dr. L.B. Jones. Dr. Jones practiced medicine between 1907 and 1944 and generally made house calls by horse and buggy. One has to wonder if Dr. Jones and Dr. Bush ever supported each other during a flu outbreak or when one of them was ill. But again, we have no record of them ever joining forces. There is no evidence that Edastina even set up a practice.

She put her hopes of becoming a medical trailblazer behind her. She helped raise her sister’s children and stayed in the house with her nephew, Robert Olds when his father died. She became an active member of the Norwich Congregational Church, the Norwich correspondent for the White River Junction newspaper, The Landmark, and a member of the Literary Club, which became the Norwich Women’s Club. In 1914, a paper she delivered to the Literary Club, “The Latest Events of Surgery and Medicine,” displayed a clear connection to her medical background.

In 1932, while living with her nephew in Norwich, Edastina died at the age of 76. Her medical school notebooks, graduation notices, and medical license eventually made their way to the Norwich Historical Society. When her belongings were put on display it was noted that “the Bush artifacts were preserved by Edastina and passed down through her sister’s family to the Historical Society are a testament not only of the importance with which Edastina regarded them but also the family’s esteem for her and her accomplishments.”

I saved my lecture notes from medical school, words that mattered.I could not speak or write about the

life that now was mine.

Along with her medical school documents, Edastina left behind a large scrapbook filled with carefully pressed flowers. Each flower (Wild Red Cherry, Wind Flower, Purple Trillium, and more) was labeled with her elegant, neat handwriting, the same script that filled the pages of her medical notebooks. With this image, Phyllis Katz ended her poem about Edastina Bush, the Norwich woman who endured the loss of her sister and the end of a career on the same tragic day.

Made of images, not words,

I let my book of pressed flowers

speak to me.

To read/hear Phyllis Katz’s poem My Book of Pressed Flowers from the Poets and the Past presentation, visit norwichhistory.org/poets-and-the-past.

Over half a century ago, three idealistic musicians joined forces in New York, and proceeded to lend their time and talent to the civil rights movement, protests against the Vietnam war, and countless campaigns for human rights over the following decades. Peter, Paul & Mary became icons – “the gateway drug to the folk revival of the ’60s” in the words of one critic – with their renditions of songs like If I Had a Hammer and Blowin’ in the Wind.

A generation later, from her home in Wilder, the daughter of Paul Stookey carries on her father’s legacy of using music as a tool for social change. Liz Stookey Sunde is not a musician, but has clearly inherited his passion for activism and social justice. As the executive director of the non-profit Music to Life, she’s grappled with making music matter in an age of social media and short attention spans.

“How does that even look?” she asks rhetorically. “In my Dad’s day, an anthem or a single rally could attract and capture the attention of so many. But how do you deal with this new, more complicated world?”

When Music to Life asked musicians what skills they needed, the answer was, “how do I extend my impact beyond the stage, how do I sustain my work?” And that, then, is the approach that Music to Life is taking: providing artists with the tools, connections, and skills to further their own goals as musician activists. “The way you do it,” says Sunde, “is by empowering the artists that make the music.”

“The artists have the ideas, we just get to help them make their dreams happen. We don’t drive the work, so much as facilitate it. That’s much more empowering for the artists, and it’s incredibly rewarding,” says Sunde, “To see the transformation when artists who are used to struggling on their own are pulled into collaborations and given networks and opportunities.”

Accelerators, Brave Troubadours, and Mentors

“We’re working with three levels of artists,” explains Sunde. “Next generation, established mid-career, and seasoned legacy mentors.”

Their local accelerator programs target newer social change artists with weekend incubators – community workshops. They teach local activist musicians tips and tools for developing music-driven programs and partnerships, and allow the Music to Life team to discover a handful of artists ready and willing to move on to do more intensive work.

The national Accelerator then trains that group of artists from around the country how to turn an idea into a fundable program. “Once they’re done, they have an entrepreneurial approach to music-driven community change work – unlike before, when they felt they had to give it away for free or had to compromise. Now, they’ll know how to collaborate with stakeholders, nonprofits and allies, and be smart about it,” explains Sunde.

Future national accelerators will be centered around key themes: poverty, climate change, civil rights, and human rights. “That way,” says Sunde, “No matter if you’re an artist in San Francisco or Cleveland, you’re on the same page. We can bring in thought leaders and speakers, and help identify partners and companies with an interest in that theme.”

An eco hip-hop curriculum for elementary kids and a mind, spirit, and music project to heal from Parkinson’s Disease are some of the projects from the Music to Life universe. But, when I ask Sunde for an example of an artist that Music to Life has worked with, she doesn’t hesitate.

“There’s a Native American rap artist in Portland, Maine, Myles Bullen, who works with suicide prevention and addiction recovery among incarcerated youth,” she explains. “So, how do you amplify his impact? You connect him with a non-profit organization so that instead of one-off events, he can be plugged into an ongoing program. Robert Bernheim, a professor from University of Maine, teaches about the holocaust to inmates; he pulls in Myles with his creative writing work and expression through rap and hip-hop. Now, the inmates not only learn the material, but can express what it’s bringing up for them. Music to Life connected them all – the state prison system, the professor, and Myles, and helped them secure a grant to make the project sustainable. Best of all, now, the wardens are getting interested – they’re like, ‘wait a second, we really appreciate what’s happening and would like to do it, too.’”

For artists with a bit more experience, Brave Troubadours is an educational series showcasing their talents and stories. Each live episode is billed as “60+ minutes of song and conversation, an entertaining and inspiring virtual roundtable that explores music’s capacity to move the needle on the issues of our time.”

“These shows provide seasoned artists who have done this work before with a platform to raise awareness, reach new fans, and help them collaborate with each other. So we offer them this shared performance space,” explains Sunde.

“Finally,” says Sunde, “We work with a third tier of artists through an ambassador or mentorship program. Some are legacy artists – my dad’s generation – but others are contemporary, seasoned social change artist celebrities. They can offer their wisdom, tips, and tools to artists in our network.” The goal is to pass the torch across generations, and to further the ‘craft’ and impact of social change music as it supports communities in need and furthers social justice.

Reigniting that Torch

The Upper Valley is hardly the center of the activist musician universe, but Sunde says it’s actually been a strength to run Music to Life from here, teaching her and her network to be nimble and embrace the virtual. Serendipitously, it brought her in touch with Bill Stetson of Norwich, who over the past few years has become a staunch ally of Music to Life. A veteran philanthropist and White House art advisor for New England under President Obama, Stetson believes the Music to Life model is a great fit to help musicians use their insights and notoriety to act as catalysts for creating a better world. “What Peter, Paul & Mary did in the ’60s was so impactful. This is one way to bring that flame up-to-date and relighting it,” he says.

And as Sunde’s father and co-founder of Music to Life, Noel Paul Stookey, reflects on his experience in the pivotal ‘protest music’ scene of the ’60s, he too appreciates this vision for music for change. “Uniting people in song could be the first step toward realizing positive community goals; the second step is to join that community in action. Music to Life’s broad and inclusive outreach reminds us of this historical context while providing a support system for the contemporary activist musician,” he says.

Music for change has, indeed, made incredible strides since the ’60s and there’s more to come. “We may be standing on the shoulders of the work of my Dad and his ’60s contemporaries, and we’re certainly building on their legacy. But the new generation of social change artists are DIY entrepreneurs who are super fired up, with new tools and unprecedented reach through social media. With the right training and support, there’s no limit to how these musicians can revitalize our communities.”

Visit musictolife.org to learn more.

To see Norwich Bookstore owners Liza Bernard and Penny McConnel in action, you would think they are fraternal twin sisters. The pair move and speak in harmony; finish each other’s sentences, encourage, laugh, compliment, and prod – the way only the best of friends can do.

One would never guess McConnel and Bernard’s ages of 82 and 67, respectively. Perhaps bookselling is a tonic that keeps people young, witty, and vibrant. But every story has an eventual ending, and thoughts of retiring have crossed their minds, especially in the past three years.

And so, through the bookseller’s industry listserv, they sought new owners. Although Bernard and McConnel received numerous inquiries over the years, not one encompassed all the attributes necessary to preserve the spirit of the store. Bernard and McConnel took their time. They did not want to back themselves into a corner of panicked, last-minute decision-making.

• • • • •

“Everything came from nothing,” remarked McConnel. In 1993, with no existing structure, they found the property and built the bookstore literally from the ground up. They opened their doors in August of 1994.

“It was a very exciting day!” said Bernard. After two years of meticulous planning, they nervously anticipated the day. They feared the worst; that no one would attend the opening or if they did, the store’s inventory would lack their desired book.

Bernard and McConnel’s bookstore motto is “Thoughtfully chosen books for everyone in the family.” They wanted to make sure they lived up to that.

“We had two part-time employees at the time: Karen Washburn who, with her husband Murray, even helped us set up the shelving, and Rae Schmertz, then a reading specialist at several Upper Valley schools.”

“The day was busy, busy, and lots of fun!” said Bernard. “We were warmly welcomed by the community – curious about what we had to offer.”

• • • • •

Running a small business is enjoyable but also comes with daily challenges. At first, it was how to use a computer for point-of-sale transactions and inventory. But by 2007, they adopted technology that allowed them to offer online browsing and sales. Then came “big-box” booksellers like Borders, Barnes and Noble, and Amazon. Still, the pair did not fold.

“It’s personal,” said Bernard. “We are a part of people’s families.” A personal touch cannot be created with a company that does not know your name, does not know what you like to read, or what to recommend – Bernard and McConnel do. They have seen families grow and expand. They have helped children who are now parents themselves. They developed their small business knowledge and their bookselling expertise to create a full-fledged, full-service bookstore that offers all genres of books, e-books, audiobooks, book signings, events, and something intangible.

“Part of our success is that we love partnering and co-hosting events with other organizations: schools, libraries, Dartmouth’s creative writing department,” said Bernard. “Bookselling is a very collaborative business.” “Yes,” chimes in McConnel with a twinkle in her eye, “we’re competitive but in a friendly way.”

• • • • •

And then COVID hit. In 27 years, they had never shut their doors for an extended period of time. They had to immediately evolve the business to continue serving the community and do what they love best: talking books with their customers. They instituted curbside pickup, became personal shoppers, walked through the store with a customer on the phone, describing books, and taking orders. Their typical in-person, event-a-week schedule moved to weekly Zoom events.

But there is an upside: “During COVID, people realized how much they relied on – and therefore had to support – local, independent businesses,” said Bernard. “And how connected we all are,” added McConnel.

Finally, last summer, they met Emma Nichols and Sam Kaas, independent booksellers from Seattle, Washington. Nichols and Kaas were not looking to tear anything down or make massive changes with their acquisition. They wanted to build upon Norwich Bookstore’s strong foundation of community, quality, and care. Bernard and McConnel felt a kismet connection with the pair via an aligned vision for their store. They found everything they were looking for in successors: experienced, young, energetic booksellers with technical and digital acumen.

Just as Bernard and McConnel have grown the bookstore’s roots, built their business, and adapted with the times, so, too, will they intentionally pass on their roles to Nichols and Kaas: a turning of the page of a beloved book.

• • • • •

When asked if meeting so many famous authors and hosting notable events stood out as historic moments, both Bernard and McConnel shook their heads. “No, not at all,” said Bernard, “those were magical events but only for an hour or so per week.” What they will never forget are the personal interactions with customers – their treasured extended family at the Norwich Bookstore.

While Bernard and McConnel appear to be the binding that has held the bookstore together for 27 years, they would argue that they are not the reason for their bookstore’s longevity and success: “The reason we have survived as long as we have isn’t because of anything we’ve done,” said Bernard. “It’s because of this community – our customers.” Every single customer, in ways big and small, contributed to the story of the Norwich Bookstore.

“It’s time,” said McConnel, “Not only for us but for the bookstore to have new, young people to take over for another 27 years.”