To many people, town development and town conservation would seem to be two ends of a spectrum. Development implies making more of something, whether it be housing, infrastructure, or commercial opportunity. Conservation sounds like preservation: putting the brakes on change so that natural resources and heritage won’t be lost.

In Norwich, one process flows into the other, and back again. We can see this in the history of two town organizations: the Norwich Development Association and the Norwich Conservation Commission.

The Norwich Development Association was formed in 1943 by a group of citizens who wanted to ensure that local children would have a place to swim and to receive swimming lessons. Article 2 of their bylaws named this, but left an opening for further work: “…development and operation of a swimming pool…and promoting or maintaining recreational facilities, or any other improvements for the general welfare, benefit, and beauty of the Town of Norwich.” They were given land along the Charles Brown Brook by Della and Angus MacAulay. Abbie, Fred, and Paul Metcalf donated a strip of land adjacent to the spot planned for a pool, and a dam was built to contain water seasonally. It opened with great fanfare on July 4, 1944, with food, games, music, and speechifying.

Sketch of Gile Mountain tower by Conservation
Commissioner Anne Foley

Over the following years, the Norwich Development Association received annual appropriations from the Town to ensure upkeep and lifeguarding services. In the 1950s, other projects were taken up: running a ski tow on the site of what is now part of Hillside Cemetery, and creating the skating rink on the Town Green. These were both focused on affordable recreation for youth. In 1957, an elementary student’s season ticket for the ski tow cost $3, while a single afternoon use was 25 cents. The ski tow closed in the late 1950s due to high maintenance costs, complicated by uncertain snowfall.

Clearly, development meant creating safe and affordable recreation opportunities for the younger generation. But when development – in the sense of commercial or residential encroachment on forested land – was perceived as a threat to the “general welfare, benefit and beauty “of the town, the Association took action.  They purchased 50 acres around the summit of Gile Mountain in 1968, and created a permanently revolving conservation fund for “easements or options in the Town’s interest” in 1969. In the same year, Maurice Aldrich donated additional land adjacent to the Norwich Pool to the Norwich Development Association.

Building Bat Boxes at Milt Frye Conservation Area

This additional concern for preserving undeveloped land was reflected in their name change in 1972 to the Norwich Recreation and Conservation Council. But two years later, the work was split between two bodies. While the Norwich Recreation and Conservation Council continued to plan recreational activities, the urgency of conservation, with new awareness of threats to our environment, prompted the town to take action. At the 1974 town meeting, the Selectboard was asked to create a Conservation Commission with seven members, the first such commission in the state. This group was to implement the conservation aims of the 1974 town plan, to conserve “open spaces and other lands, waters, and flora and fauna.” They formed five sub-committees: Land Acquisition, Conservation Economics, Education, Natural Resources Inventory, and the Administration and Maintenance of town lands. In the same year, they proposed a bill to the Vermont State House to encourage more Vermont towns to create such commissions. It is notable that those founding members of the Conservation Commission, some of whom had served on the original Norwich Development Association, were ahead of their time in valuing the beautifully “undeveloped’ land around us. Foremost among these far-sighted leaders was Bill Ballard, whose concern for endangered flora led to conservation efforts of bogs and wetlands.

Skating on the town green ca. 1950

The early years of the Conservation Commission saw a variety of activities. A long-term inventory of natural resources began. Books and magazines were purchased for the elementary school library. A public forum entitled “Growth: Who Pays?” was held. A town-wide tree planting project, as well as special plantings around Tracy Hall were accomplished. The Commission took part in a weekly radio program called “Environmental Insight” at Dartmouth College.

Through the 1990s and 2000s, the Commission continued to educate school children and adults. Some serious fundraising efforts resulted in a healthy Conservation Trust Fund. Continuing inventories of natural resources, of wetlands, and of Norwich special places gave direction to potential land acquisition. Much effort was given to planning and developing trails and trail networks on conserved land. Notably, in 1996, Bill Ballard led a hike down the trail that would bear his name (though he argued vigorously for calling it the “Al Converse and Pete Richardson Trail”, because they led the work parties that marked the final trail).

Norwich Pool Opening 1944

Today, 50 years after its founding, the Norwich Conservation Commission has changed some of its structure. There are now nine members and two subcommittees: the Trails Committee and the Milt Frye Nature Area Committee.  The conservation of land continues. New land acquisition projects include the Arnold tract near Norfolk Lake Road and the Woody Adams Forest adjacent to the Gile Mountain Tract. The Schmidt Bog, home to the showy lady slippers so dear to Bill Ballard’s heart, has had boardwalks built. In the Milt Frye Nature Area near the Marion Cross School, work is underway to eradicate invasives while expanding the diversity of native wildflowers. As the Emerald Ash Borer makes its way into our area, plans are being made for treatment options for the town’s ash trees.

A wealth of educational articles can be found on the Conservation Commission’s website. There, you can find information on living alongside our local fauna, such as bears, bees, deer, beavers. Our waterways, insect threats and benefits, and dealing with native and invasive plants are described.

According to a 2003 article by Henry Homeyer in Dartmouth Alumni Magazine, Bill Ballard is reputed to have said, “This world was made beautiful, but it’s being made less beautiful by people who don’t understand the importance of beauty.” I wonder whether it was his words in the founding document of the Norwich Development Association that spoke of “the general welfare, benefit, and beauty of the Town of Norwich.” We are so grateful to the Norwich Conservation Commission for 50 years of carrying on his legacy for preserving and conserving the beauty of our town. Happy 50th birthday!

“Time is a jet plane; it moves too fast.” – Bob Dylan

I started writing historical articles for the Norwich Times in the summer of 2015. After 33 journeys into Norwich history, it’s time to pass the computer, the pen, or maybe the quill onto another chronicler. Before I sign off, I’d like to revisit a few of those intriguing people, places, and events in Norwich’s history that have made their way into print. To spice things up, I’ve included a review question at the end of each passage. Answers will be at the end of the article.

Wartime Celebration in Norwich

Let’s start with a softball question: What event happened in Norwich on July 4, 1944, that drew over 400 people? The gathering opened with a rendition of “God Bless America” with Fred Metcalf accompanying on his organ. A ribbon was cut, and folks enjoyed grilled burgers and hot dogs cooked on stone fireplaces built by Ernest Fitzgerald and Dan Fraser. Kids and adults participated in races and contests. Bill Aldrich, a lifetime Norwich resident, was a small boy at the event and remembered one game that “involved drinking a Coke out of a baby bottle, and the quickest to empty was the winner.” The celebration closed with “The Star Spangled Banner.” Need a hint? Visit the Norwich Town Hall and check out the Paul Sample painting in the clerk’s office.

1. Why was there a celebration in Norwich on July 4, 1944?

1. Celebrating the success of the D-Day invasion
2. The opening of the town pool
3. Birthday gala for long-time Norwich resident Verne Lundquist

Town Reports

There’s no better way to understand the history and character of Norwich than by thumbing through the town reports, which first appeared before Town Meeting Day in 1778. By the late nineteenth century, the reports covered the town’s financial health to the last penny. They explained how the village educated its children, treated its poverty-stricken citizens, and supported its local institutions year after year. Here is a question from one town report:

2. On November 13, 1963, President Kennedy signed a bill that created what landmark development?

1. The first interstate school district in the nation, joining Norwich and Hanover
2. The building of Interstate 91
3. Property taxes could not be based on home value

To Save the Union

During the Civil War, 178 Norwich men, out of a population of 1,759, joined the Union Army and Navy. In September 1861, a farm worker from Norwich joined the military after he received a $100 bounty for his patriotism. This young Vermonter fought in 18 major battles, including Gettysburg and Antietam. The soldier was wounded near the end of his enlistment and sent home, where he ran a farm on Turnpike Road, married, and helped raise five children. He is buried beneath a large family tombstone in Hillside Cemetery.

3. Who was this Civil War soldier?

1. Eldred Huff  
2. Asa Fix
3. Gomer Pyle 
4. Ransom Slack

Big Business on the River

In the later part of the nineteenth century, Pattersonville, a bustling hamlet, was established on the northern edge of Norwich along the Ompompanoosuc River. Between 1872 and 1910, L. S. Patterson developed a company that was Norwich’s largest and most prosperous. The products made in Pattersonville were shipped to St. Johnsbury and Burlington and dealers in Boston, New York, Baltimore, and Philadelphia.

4. What was made in Pattersonville?

1. Musical instruments
2. Furniture
3. Lumber for new homes 

Crossing the River

Since 1804, there have been six bridges across the Connecticut River between Hanover and Norwich. The first span was a toll bridge. Every walker paid two cents, and a horse and rider cost five cents. In 1859, a third bridge was constructed, covered, and free to cross. It survived a flood in 1869 and stood up to the historic 1927 flood. During the log drives in the 1890s, “logs used to jam up so badly against the old stone pier that they had to be dynamited to effect their release – but the old bridge stood.” Goods bound for Hanover were shipped to the Lewiston train station in Norwich and carted across the bridge. Many Dartmouth first-year students were dropped off at the station and “walked through the covered bridge and up the hill to view the Hanover plain for the first time.” The covered bridge lasted until 1935; today’s bridge, completed in 1999, cost $11.2 million.

5. The current Ledyard Bridge was subject to a heated debate regarding…

1. Its lack of a proper bike path
2. The decorative stone balls along the bridge
3. Should the bridge be renamed after then-President Clinton

The Concrete Octopus

In 1964, Interstate 91, the new superhighway, approached Norwich. The state of Vermont announced its intention to build two on-ramps and two exit ramps at the shortest and most direct route between Norwich and Hanover. The proposed interstate did not sit well with the community and set off a four-year battle that included letters to the editor, petitions, and town votes. Some citizens were upset about the destruction of the hamlet of Lewiston, a small group of homes and stores on the Vermont side of the Ledyard Bridge. In contrast, others welcomed the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of a modern transportation system.

6. During the discussion about where to locate the I-91 interchange, several alternatives were suggested. Were they to:

1. Shift the interchange to the Loveland district two miles north of the Ledyard Bridge and build a new bridge
2. Set the interchange in the general vicinity of where Willing Hands is located today
3. Both a & b

Skiing in Norwich: From Rope Tow to the Olympics

What’s the magic behind Norwich and its Olympic skiers? Are ski jumping classes a requirement at the Marion Cross School? Or is there a magic elixir in the town’s maple syrup? What else could explain the abundance of Olympic athletes from this Vermont town in the last 70 years? In the late 1940s, the Ford Sayre ski program, which originated in Hanover, got rolling in Norwich on the south side of Cemetery Hill with a rope tow. The area, Altow, was named after the first owner, Al Peavy (get it?: Al’s Tow). Near Altow, off of Hopson Road, a 25-meter ski jump was created in the 1950s. It was called Sample’s Hill after the Dartmouth artist-in-residence, Paul Sample, who lived nearby. “Ski jumping was viewed as an extreme sport when the hill opened,” said Buff McLaughry, who grew up in Norwich. “Spectators flocked from all over to watch us sail through the air for jumps of even 50 feet.” Norwich has produced 11 Winter Olympians, highlighted most recently by Hannah Kearney, who brought home a gold medal from the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, where she won the women’s moguls event.

7. Which Norwich skier won the silver medal in the 1960 Olympics women’s slalom at Squaw Valley, California?

1. Picabo Street
2. Penny Pitou
3. Betsy Snite

A Rare Norwich Gem 

In the 1940 Norwich census, farmer, lawyer, doctor, and professor were all positions held by men. Women were listed primarily as housewives. That made Norwich’s Ruby Fitzgerald, who worked at the New England Telephone and Telegraph Company for 48 years, a pioneer. Born in 1902, Ruby grew up in a 21-room home on the corner of Hazen and Main Streets. In 1909, the Fitzgeralds operated the first telephone exchange in Norwich. When Ruby was 17, inspired by her experience with the family exchange, she joined New England Telephone in White River Junction. In 1928, she became a junior switchboard supervisor; in 1933, the company promoted Ruby to senior supervisor. Ruby’s final promotion came in 1946 when she became the chief operator. She hired new operators in this position, led visiting dignitaries on exchange tours, and spoke to civic groups. In a 1955 White River Junction Rotary Club presentation, Ruby predicted that “a dial system would be introduced here between 1956 and 1957.” It arrived in 1961. In 1967, Ruby, who turned 65 that year, retired from the telephone company. Ever the groundbreaker, Ruby left with a flourish, with awards and a testimonial dinner before 200 people at Lebanon’s Landers Restaurant.

8. Ruby’s nickname was:

1. Mrs. Ding A Ling
2. Mrs. Bel of Tel. And Tel.
3. Mrs. Number Please

Norwich’s Mayor

By many accounts, Allen Foley was Norwich’s grandest storyteller and one of its finest public servants. Born in 1898, Allen attended Dartmouth, earned a master’s degree in history, and returned to Dartmouth, where he taught history for over three decades. Al had a home on McKenna Road and, in 1956, became Norwich’s town moderator, a post he held for 20 years. In 1963, as a thank you for his years of service, he was named “Honorary Mayor.” He said his duties as mayor consisted of riding in a convertible during the Norwich Parade each summer.

In 1964, Al retired from Dartmouth and increased his civic responsibilities. He represented Norwich in the Vermont legislature for five terms and was the town moderator until 1975 when he began his subsequent career as an after-dinner speaker. His stories poked fun at people who ventured into Vermont from out of state. For example, one told of a visitor from Massachusetts who drove to Vermont and came to a fork in the road with signs pointing in both directions to White River Junction. He asked a Vermonter walking on the road: “Does it make any difference which road I take to White River?” and received the reply: “Not to me, it don’t.”

Allen died in 1978. A colleague from the legislature wrote, “We shall miss Al Foley, his humor, his caring, his demonstrated belief in good government, his love of people and conversation, his mastery of the Yankee put-down. His was the ultimate gift, to make life more bearable for others.”

 9. Al Foley was a lifelong bachelor and rarely ate at home. He enjoyed most of his meals at:

1. Umpleby’s and Ramunto’s
2. Molly’s and the Hanover Inn
3. Lou’s and the Norwich Inn

Bonus Question

Where is one of the most beautiful places on the shores of the Connecticut River to enjoy a summer afternoon?

Answer: Foley Park. Dedicated to Allen Foley’s memory, the park lies on the southwestern side of the Ledyard Bridge. In addition to its beauty, the park is a historical landmark. In 1765, the Messenger and Hutchinson families built a log hut on the site, becoming the first pioneer families to winter in Norwich.

Adirondack chairs allow you to sit and watch ducks feed or canoes skim across the water. As you gaze down the river, you can almost imagine those first families slowly paddling upstream. The older gentleman standing nearby and looking downstream may be me scanning the river with you.          

I hope you have enjoyed reading these articles as much as I have enjoyed writing them. A big thank you goes to my research mentors at the Norwich Historical Society: Sarah Rooker, Nancy Osgood, and Judy Brown. A final shout-out goes to Alan Berolzheimer, whose close reads and edits consistently improved my articles.

Quiz Answers

There are various ways to access the history of a village like Norwich. It’s easy if you’re a student at the Marion Cross School, because Norwich history is a part of the curriculum there. New residents, on the other hand, can drop by the Norwich Historical Society (NHS), examine the maps and exhibits, and purchase a copy of Norwich, Vermont: A History. In the summer, NHS offers historical walking tours around the village. Visitors (and residents!) can learn more by listening to a historical podcast as they cruise the back roads of Norwich. Now, as supplements to the school curriculum and podcasts, there are four new illustrated histories of our town – a creative collaboration between artist Emily Zea, NHS Director Sarah Rooker, and retired Marion Cross School teacher Wendy Thompson.

Zea, who grew up in Norwich, credits her elementary school art teacher, Tracy Smith, with the inspiration to become an artist. “I still have a lot of the projects from her classes. I turned one watercolor flower that I completed in class into stationary,” Zea says. After high school and college, Zea returned to the Upper Valley and earned a Master of Fine Arts degree from the Center for Cartoon Studies in White River Junction. Along with a passion for art, Zea grew up in a family that valued history. “During my childhood, my parents worked at many different museums. My brother and I were raised as ‘museum kids’,” she says.

Since she earned her master’s degree in 2020, Zea has created two illustrated town histories along with several pocket-sized history guides. One guide is about engraving a powder horn (a personal piece of equipment that held black musket powder and was worn by the owner), which includes the art process that goes into making them and the museums with the best collections. According to Zea, “Powder horns were used to tell the stories of their owners… It is fascinating to discern their stories through the pictographs they carved.” She also developed a New England graveyard art pocket guide that can be used to decipher the meaning of all the art carved into gravestones. “Every carving is purposeful and has a significant meaning,” she says. “With this pocket guide, you can learn even more about the people buried in our small-town plots, what was important to them, and what kind of lives they led.” At the end of the day, Zea admits that she is more of an artist than a historian. “But my love for history is undeniable!” she says. “I love using my art to teach myself about new topics.”

In 2019, Zea, Rooker, and Thompson brainstormed topic ideas for a series of illustrated histories of Norwich. Entitled The Early Years and Rivers and Mills, they were created to be podcast companions for two of the NHS driving tours. Next, they matched up several critical issues in the world today with events in Norwich’s history.

“We wanted to share more about Abenaki history than the fact that they were simply here before us,” says Rooker. “In the histories, we talk about how the Abenaki people and the first settlers from Connecticut interacted with and supported one another. We also wanted to have stories of women and people of color. That’s why we focused on the stories of Lucy Terry Prince and Lydia Brigham.” In Norwich Town Meeting and The Women of Norwich: Change Makers, the focus is on civic duties. “We had so many new people coming to town during Covid,” Rooker adds, “that town meeting might be a new concept for some people.”  

Along with introducing newcomers to local history, the illustrated histories connect to topics taught at Marion Cross. “It’s been a perfect way to get kids excited about history,” says Zea. “The graphic histories provide visual information while one is reading and create two different avenues to get the topic across at the same time. It makes history very accessible.”

Several steps were involved in the process of creating the illustrated histories. First, Rooker and Thompson selected topics and a script was outlined. Next, Rooker created digital folders with historical photos for Zea, who selected the information that would best translate visually on the page. The illustrations of architecture, geography, and clothing had to be carefully drawn. “Every little detail had to be historically accurate,” says Rooker.

Zea drew a thumbnail sketch for each page. Then she edited the page so the image and text fit together. From there, Zea made pencil drawings of each page, followed by a pen-and-ink version. She then scanned the drawings and incorporated the text. Zea admitted that she faced several challenges, and the photos were difficult to draw. “Transportation with the interstate took a long time,” she says. The two-page drawing contained a rope ferry, railroads, and bridges. As Zea points out, “It’s a mix of times. But when you read it, it goes in order.” Some of the histories took six to nine months to complete. The Rivers and Mills booklet took a year.

The overriding goal for all of the illustrated histories is to encourage students and newcomers to get involved and engaged in Norwich. According to Rooker, the histories are designed to build “a strong sense of place and attachment to the community… When you become more involved you become more attached, so it’s circular.” Knowing the history “creates a tighter, more cohesive community,” Rooker points out. “We all want to feel like we belong and these books are geared for that.”

To follow up on this theme, at the end of each history booklet there is a page that offers ideas on how to become more involved in the community. Rivers and Mills suggests you go canoeing on the Connecticut River and imagine what it would have been like when the area was largely a wilderness. In The Early Years history, readers are encouraged to find Norwich’s town charter – signed by New Hampshire Governor Benning Wentworth – at Tracy Hall.

Talking to Zea and Rooker underscores that the creation of the illustrated histories was much more than a simple art history project. “I do think it’s an incredible story,” Rooker says, “about a youth growing up in our community as an artist and coming full circle and helping others connect to the town. Zea has a strong sense of place, as you can see in her drawings”

“My mom was very involved in the history of our town,” notes Zea. “And it’s important for me to continue that work.” Zea’s mother, Kim King Zea, was a curator at NHS and championed the move to Lewis House as a new home for the society in 2003. Rooker appreciates the connection.  “There’s something very special about having Zea working on projects at the historical society. It feels good to continue the history of Norwich with her. It feels good having her here.”

Soon all four illustrated histories will be assembled into one book. In addition, later this spring a new exhibit at Norwich Historical Society will display all the drawings, showing the steps that Zea went through to create the histories, as well as the artifacts and archival documents that were used in the research, writing, and drawing.

When you search for a family that has its roots deeply embedded in the soil and community of Norwich, it’s hard to find a better example than Fred, Paul, and Abbie Metcalf. Without fanfare, the three siblings supported the village of Norwich in a medley of ways for most of the 20th century.

The Metcalfs grew up on a farm on Dutton Hill Road, named after their maternal great-grandfather Daniel B. Dutton, who purchased the land in 1834. The farm was also worked by their grandfather, John Dutton, and their father, Otis Metcalf.  Otis came from South Royalton to work for John Dutton in 1886 and married the farmer’s daughter, Hattie, three years later. After they married, the couple moved to the Jericho district of Hartford, where Paul and Fred were born, but they returned to work the Dutton farm in 1901 after the death of John Dutton.

Fred was born on January 4, 1890, and was ten years old when his family moved to Dutton Hill. From a young age, he enjoyed the beauty of his home. He was the first in the family to spot a rainbow and talked of the eastern hills as “my hills.”  “One night when I was seven,” Abbie recalled, “Fred saw Haley’s Comet in the sky. He woke me and took me out to see it.”

Along with his fondness for nature, Fred had an early interest in music. His mother had a reed organ when he was a boy, and Fred used to stand on one foot to reach the keyboard and pump with the other foot. As a youngster, he vowed to the Congregational church organist in Norwich, “When I grow up, I’m going to play that organ.” As Fred grew older he learned to play the organ at his grammar school and had a few formal lessons.

The only person opposed to Fred’s musical pursuits was his father, who once cracked, “Fred might amount to something if he’d let the damned music alone.”

Paul and Fred attended Norwich grammar school and began high school in Hanover. Fred would have liked to pursue additional musical training but when their father couldn’t find hired hands to help with the farm work, he took them out of school.

When Fred left school he didn’t abandon his education. According to Abbie, “He had his nose in a book all the time… and did all the farm work, roofing, and carpentry and helped mother.”

“Fred was a fellow who really didn’t like the farm,” wrote longtime neighbor Fred Johnson in a remembrance of Fred. “(He) did his job and filled his place. At the same time, he had this artistic side of him that he was trying to develop and keep alive.”

According to Abbie, “He always said that the only use he had for a horse was to hitch him up and go to church or a concert over to Hanover. He didn’t care especially for horses but he knew how to handle them as much as anybody needed to.”

After their father died, Fred and Paul split the chores on the family’s 150-acre farm. Fred cared for the cows, worked in the field, and did house chores. Paul tended the horses, managed the machinery, and gardened. Fred did most of the cooking and “gained a reputation for his biscuits.” For over twenty years he baked a loaf of bread that was used in the communion services at the Congregational church.

In addition to his work on the farm, in 1915, Fred started to play the organ at Saint Barnabas Church, where he played until 1950.  In 1920, Fred became the organist for the Congregational church, a position he held for 48 years. The dollar Fred received for each service he used to pay for harmony lessons at Dartmouth with the chairman of the music department, Dr. Phillip Clapp.

Sundays were active times for Fred. The Episcopal service was at 9:30 a.m. and the Congregational service began at 11:00. When he finished with his first job, he’d fly across the common and arrive just before 11:00, toss his overcoat onto the front pew, and start the music going once more. In addition to the organ he also played the flute and the piccolo with the Norwich Band and sang with the Handel Society at Dartmouth for 40 years.

Along with playing music, Fred enjoyed writing, which most of the time meant writing sermons and composing music for the church. His best-known piece is the Christmas carol, “O Holy Child of Bethlehem,” which is still sung at the Norwich Congregational Church during the Christmas season.

When he stepped down as organist in 1968 he savored his time on Dutton Hill. “My music and my house and my work outdoors are all the things I have time for,” said Fred. “If I play the organ now, I do all that’s in me.” Fred died on December 6, 1980, just a month shy of his 91st birthday.

Paul was born on July 28, 1893, and established himself as the farmer in the family. He enjoyed the work, especially gardening and driving the horses. “When father took hold of the lines, the horses knew somebody was in charge who knew just what to do,” Abbie said. “Paul always wanted to be as good a teamster as his father. And he was, almost.”

But while he worked on the farm he didn’t neglect his civic duties. During World War I Paul was a member of the Vermont National Guard and during World War II he was a member of the Aircraft Warning Service, which set up lookout towers around Norwich. He was a long time member of the Root District Riding Club and often rode a horse in the Norwich Fair parade. But cutting firewood, chopping ice, haying, and running a dairy farm kept him busy every day.

“While words rarely escaped his drooping mustache,” Paul left a clear sketch of himself in the diaries he kept during the 1930s. The diaries were matter of fact, with no soulful introspection. Yet they revealed a man who was precise, thrifty, hard working, devoted to his family, and loyal to his community. They captured the rhythm of the seasons and are true historical treasures. Each entry began with a weather update and then succinctly hit the highlights of the day.

Saturday, February 17, 1934: Fair Sawed wood awhile. Began hauling ice. Ernest Fitzgerald’s truck is hauling it from Armstrong’s over to the foot of the hill. I hauled 3 loads, 21 cakes up the hill with Spike and Gyp and the mules. It is 21’ thick.

Tuesday, December 25, 1934: Cloudy snowed an inch or two. Had a Christmas tree this afternoon. Aunt Abbie came up. Mrs. Barrett and Mrs. Jewell came up this evening. Abbie gave me some slippers and Fred gave me 5 dollars.

Friday, October 15, 1937: Cloudy. Moved some hay in the horse barn… Put up the haying tools again. Pulled the beets & put them down cellar. Picked the Hubardstone apples. 1 bu. Apples, 2 bu. beets.

Thursday, June 27, 1938: Rain. Had the last of my upper teeth out. 5 of them. $5. Hoed a row & a half of corn. Had peas for supper.

Tuesday, October 4, 1938: Fair. Fixed fence above the corn. Chased Mary’s cattle out twice. Patched the horse barn roof some. Went to a chicken pie supper at Grange Hall and choir meeting.

Tuesday, March 7, 1939: older, windy, squalls. Went to town meeting in the new Town Hall.

After a busy life on the farm, Paul died on October 11, 1966, at the age of 73.

While Abbie sang the praises of her brothers whenever she could, she too led a vibrant life. On July 21, 1903, one week before Paul’s 10th birthday, she was born in the house on Dutton Hill, where her mother was born 40 years earlier. She was named after her father’s sister, a trained nurse, who made sure that “Little Abbie grew up strong and healthy, after recovering from a rattle in her lungs the summer she was ten. But plenty of fresh air, day and night… As well as a pet collie with whom to explore the farm helped in the recovery of her health.”

Abbie attended the Norwich public school and Hanover High School and then veered away from her rural upbringing and attended Wheaton College in Norton, Massachusetts, where she graduated in 1927. During her college summers she waited tables at a hotel and often came home to work on the farm. “Father needed me to drive (four horses) for haying and paid me $100.” In 1930 she attended the Columbia School of Library Science and finished in 1931, “the year before it was decided to issue a Master’s Degree.” She was a librarian at the North Adams Public Library in Massachusetts for the next ten years. 

In 1941 Abbie returned to Norwich. Her parents and her aunt had all died and “Fred and Paul were glad to have me home!” But it became clear quickly that there was not enough to keep Abbie busy on the farm. After a short stint at the Howe Library, she went to work as a librarian at Dartmouth’s Thayer School for the next 26 years. When she retired from Thayer she became the librarian at the Norwich Public Library for nine years, while being the curator of the Norwich Historical Society. With her “extra” time she was a clerk at the congregational church. As for the farm, although for 50 years the Metcalfs sold milk to H. P. Hood in Boston, when she retired they only pastured cows on their land. “We’ve kept the stables cleaned out in minus 40 degree weather as much as we wanted,” Abbie said.  Abbie died on July 23, 1990, at the age of 87.

A short time before Abbie’s passing, 300 items from the Dutton house and barn were auctioned off. A 200-year-old high chest of drawers – a highboy, made from yellow birch and white pine, woods native to the area and held together with wooden pins rather than nails – was put up for bid. The highboy, judged by the auctioneer to be in almost perfect condition with no broken legs or signs of repair, was sold to the Shelburne Museum for $22,500, about $50,000 today.  It’s easy to see the extended devotion Fred, Paul, and Abbie had for the Norwich community. But the highboy was an obvious clue as to how the siblings cherished the Metcalf ancestry and their family home on Dutton Hill.

A five-mile drive from Norwich along the Connecticut River and a small meander up Route 132 will drop you into a unique portion of Norwich’s history – the hamlet of Union Village, a community shared by two towns and two counties.

Union Village had its start along the Ompompanoosuc River, which begins in Vershire and runs through West Fairlee and Thetford before it joins the Connecticut River in Norwich. The river provided several locations along its banks for the first White settlers to establish water-powered mills. In the 1790s, the Locke brothers erected a grist mill on the “Pompy” about 4 miles from the point where it empties into the Connecticut River. By the turn of the 1800s, John Hall had purchased the mill, and he then added a sawmill. Quite the entrepreneur, Hall also built and managed a tavern in the area and opened the first store. Soon the stage route from Boston, Concord, Hanover, and Montpelier rumbled through the village. With all the success that he brought to the area, the hamlet became known as Hallville.

Hallville had the unique distinction of being divided, smack dab in the middle, by the town line between Thetford and Norwich and the counties of Orange and Windsor. With that division in mind, the name Hallville was dropped. The small hamlet became officially known as Union Village with the opening of the post office in the general store in 1841. Morrill J. Walker,  who was a partner in the store, became the first postmaster.  

The early settlers built a dam north of the village that provided the energy for the mills, and they erected a covered bridge over the flowing water. The water from the dam was led to the mills in a long wooden flume. Each person who purchased land along the river also purchased water rights, but there was a priority system for who could use the water. First on the list was the gristmill, next came the woolen mill with its carding machines, and finally the furniture shop could use water for turning its lathes. By 1851, Phillip Cambridge, the last owner of the woolen mill, where raw wool was turned into cloth, employed 25 to 40 people. In addition, the village had a sawmill, a carriage shop, three shoemakers, a tailor, and a gravestone shop. The businesses were thriving until, after 36 hours of constant rainfall, the flood of 1869 washed away the dam, bridge, and most of the mills.

While the flood of 1869 was a significant blow to the community, a Beers Atlas map from 1877 shows that the area was once again prospering. A bustling general store and post office, owned by the Blasidel family, became the business and social center of the community. According to one resident, “There the men gather in groups to discuss all important topics. And nothing is settled until after it has been thoroughly canvassed on this popular forum.” The storytellers had time on their hands and “took pleasure in repeating their own stories over and over like sailors at sea spinning their yarns.” South of the general store on the Norwich side of the village was a carriage shop, and M. S. Colburn’s Blacksmith Shop and Hall. Along with being the village smithy,  Myron Colburn played a mean E-flat coronet and in 1872 he organized “Colburn’s Cornet Band.”  Members came from various towns, and their uniforms featured lots of silver buttons and plumed hats. They played twice a year for Dartmouth athletic events, at political rallies, and in 1880 took third place at the International Band Tournament held at Lake Memphremagog in northern Vermont.

By 1815 there were enough worshippers in the area that a church was built 2 miles south of Hallville. In 1836 a larger church was built in the village that served both Methodist and Episcopal members. The entire cost of the building was $1,800. The “Centennial Celebration” program from 1936 noted that pews were sold to families to pay for the construction. In 1849 the stewards of the church agreed to raise the preacher’s “allowance” and the church records show that of the six people named as stewards, three were women. “The interest and strength of women’s work here,” explained the Centennial program, “continues to today.” In the early days, the church seemed to be quite formal. “In 1880 it was voted to hold  ‘no entertainment but Christmas in the church’ but behavior patterns changed.” By the 1920s, plays were presented to help pay for “renovation and redecoration.”  “Through prosperity and depression,” concluded the program, “through ‘ups and downs,’ people have rallied to the needs of ‘the little brick church’ and for which she has stood, for a century.”     

Union Village had a one-room schoolhouse, erected “sometime before 1836.” The school was on top of the county line on the river side of the main road. The northern part of the building was in Thetford while the southern half was in Norwich. There was a dividing line of nails through the center of the floor, and according to Ernest Bond, who attended the school, “Norwich children sat on the Norwich side and the Thetford children on the Thetford side.” How strong the division was between the two sides of town is up for debate, but one long-time resident remembered a Thetford vs. Norwich spelling match. “The word that ‘stumped the experts’ was ornithorhynchus (or ni tho rhyn’ chus): An egg-laying mammal with a duck-like bill” (in other words, a platypus). Regardless of any divisions, the two towns shared the expenses of the school.

Because the school hugged the river the only place for a playground was on the road in front of the building. Nonetheless, this was a safe area for recess, “as the road was seldom used and only with horse and buggy.” Perhaps the traffic picked up, for the school was hauled across the road in 1925 and set next to the church. The school closed in 1951 and was sold to the “Pew Owners Association of the Union Village Methodist Church” for $1,005, to be used as a parish house. The building was refurbished and a new kitchen was installed to help with church suppers. As one resident noted, “It seems quite fitting that this schoolhouse should be closely connected with the church there for they always have. I’m sure the little schoolhouse still feels it has its nitch [niche] in the hearts and lives of many people.”

While entirely on the Thetford side of town, the Union Village Dam has had a significant impact on Norwich and its outlying hamlets. Before the dam was built, storms devastated villages along the entire Connecticut River and caused flooding as far south as Springfield, Massachusetts, and New Haven, Connecticut. The November flood of 1927 stands as the greatest natural disaster in Vermont’s history. The flood waters claimed 84 lives, including that of the lieutenant governor at the time, S. Hollister Jackson. More than 1,280 bridges were destroyed, many of which had been built soon after the 1869 flood. In 1936 and 1938, floods turned the Pompanoosuc area near Kendall Station into a lake and washed away bridges and roads in the area. Something had to be done. Dams could not be built on the Connecticut River because it was used for logging and hydroelectric power. So a plan was devised by the Army Corps of Engineers in the 1940s to build a series of dams from Rhode Island to the Canadian border along the Connecticut River tributaries. The Union Village dam site was selected to control the Ompompanoosuc River. The 1,100-foot-long 170-foot-high dam was completed in 1950 and was the largest dam built on any of the tributaries. The project had some negative impacts. Several farms were demolished, grazing pastures were lost, and the dam construction blocked the town road to Tucker Hill, so Route 132 was extended up the hill just before the southern entrance to the village.

Union Village is a beautiful place to visit. Although the village store is gone, the brick church and schoolhouse sit on a small hill and welcome visitors to the village. There are places to picnic and hike near the dam. But the covered bridge is one of the best connections to the past. The current bridge has spanned the river since 1867 and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1974  It is the longest multiple-kingpost span in the state and rests on original abutments of stone that have been capped in concrete. Walk across it today and you can almost hear the clip-clop of a horse-drawn buggy heading up the hill to Thetford.

For a closer look at Union Village, be sure to join the walking tour of the area next summer led by the Norwich Historical Society..

In 1770, only eight years after Norwich was founded, the infant twin Slafter boys, Asahel and Asaph, died and were buried in the Waterman Hill Cemetery. These were the first documented burials in Norwich, and this is the oldest cemetery in town. Lying north of the village just before the Pompanoosuc River and west up on Hemlock Road, the Waterman Hill Cemetery was a final resting place for many of Norwich’s early settlers, and a stroll over the grounds and an examination of the gravestones offer historical sketches into the challenges faced by the first residents. Diseases that are rarely mentioned today were fatal, infant deaths were common, and few lived to a golden age.

Along with Waterman Hill Cemetery, which closed in 1895, there are ten other known cemeteries in Norwich. They range in size from four graves to over 2,000. Some can be reached by foot from the Norwich Inn, others require a short drive, and for a few, you should prepare for a hike with a good map.

On the northern outskirts of Norwich at the intersection of New Boston Road and Norford Lake Road is the New Boston Cemetery. This cemetery was first used in 1790 for the burial of the infants of Elija and Lydia Baldwin. “The largest of the families buried here was the Sargents, who were known for being sawyers and owning large parcels of land.” It’s medium in size with 120 graves and is built on a hill like the majority of the town’s cemeteries. Its last burial took place in 1977.

The Union Village Cemetery, located adjacent to the United Methodist Church, opened in 1823. This is one of the larger cemeteries and it sits on land owned jointly by Norwich and Thetford. “This cemetery seems to attract large families of ‘C’s: Cambridge, Clark, Clogston, Cloud, Clough, Colburn, and Cook… but the Watermans are the largest group.” The cemetery has more than 500 graves and remains open today.

Located near the Waterman Hill Cemetery in the Campbell Flats area is Hogback Cemetery. One of the smallest in town, with only six known graves, it was opened in 1826 with the burial of four-year-old Hamlin Hubbard Jr. “Long after its closing in 1870, a new Sargent Cemetery was erected in 2000, and is attached to the Hogback lot. It is being used by the Sargent families today.”

To the northwest of Norwich village, two miles out on Turnpike Road, lies the Rogers and Hartshorn Cemetery, the second-smallest of all cemeteries in Norwich, with only five burials. It opened in 1844 and no known burials occurred after 1850.

A short drive west of the village lies the small community of Beaver Meadow. Paul Sample, one of Norwich’s most famous artists, created a painting of Beaver Meadow that included the hamlet’s chapel and to its left, the Beaver Meadow Cemetery. It closed in 1966 and holds 250 gravestones. The burial grounds were first used in 1795, to inter 41-year-old Roxalana Sawyer. “Luck was not on her side, as she was one of the two wives of Conant Sawyer and together they lost five infants.”

If you are looking for a challenge, the next two cemeteries might be worth the effort. But first, lace up your hiking boots. Located a 30-minute walk off Cossingham Road, not far from the Appalachian Trail in an area called Podunk, lies Parkhurst Cemetery. Again, the first burials in 1826 were for children, one only a month old and the other three years old. Tragedy seems to have plagued this area, for “among the eight different families buried here, 12 out of the 21 deaths were people younger than 25.” The now abandoned cemetery had its last burial in 1873. Nearby the Parkhurst cemetery is the Newton Cemetery, Norwich’s smallest burial ground. This one is named for the four members of the Newton family who were buried here between 1849 and 1885.

The third-oldest burial ground in town, Meeting House Hill Cemetery, lies off Union Village Road about a mile north of Norwich village. The old meeting house, where town business and the first church services were held, stood southwest of the cemetery. “In 1773, some tragic deaths led to the earliest burials: Peter Olcott Jr., age eight, and six days later a sibling, Pell Mills Olcott Jr., 10 years old.”

Fairview Cemetery, located a short distance from Main Street on Beaver Meadow Road, is the second-oldest cemetery in Norwich. It opened in 1772 and was once known as “The Norwich Plain Cemetery.” Remarkably, more than a thousand burials took place on this small plot of land. Many of the first resident families – the Burtons, Hatchs, Hopsons, and Wrights – are buried here. A large obelisk in the center of the cemetery is the resting place of Alden Partridge, founder of Norwich University. A garage at the west end of the cemetery once housed the town’s circa 1910 horse-drawn hearse. The hearse was restored in 1995 and now resides in the Norwich Historical Society’s barn.

The Hillside-Loveland Cemetery, also known as the Cemetery on the Hill, is the largest and newest cemetery in town, with more than 2,000 sites. Located off Hopson Road and up Hillside Road, the left-side cemetery is located on land that once held the Altow ski area, which operated in the 1940s and ’50s. The land was once owned by the Snite family, whose daughter, Betsy, participated in the 1956 and 1960 Winter Olympics. Paul Sample’s grave site in the northeast section overlooks the entire cemetery, with a wonderful view of the Congregational church and Baker Library at Dartmouth.

Along with the history that can be gleaned from a stroll around a town cemetery, the gravestones can also provide a glimpse into the art of the time they were created. In the four oldest cemeteries many of the headstones were created by Gershom Bartlett, one of the earliest gravestone carvers in the region. Bartlett moved from Bolton, Connecticut, to Norwich in 1773 after he purchased 400 acres of land in the Pompanoosuc area. He worked for the town as a highway surveyor, fence viewer, and lister. But Bartlett is best known for the nearly 350 stones he carved between 1773 and 1797 that can be found in cemeteries from Windsor, Vermont, to Orford, New Hampshire.

Bartlett used a chisel, a few mallets, and perhaps a compass to create his gravestone art. His carvings are original and in some cases bizarre to the modern eye. But his work is easy to identify, with their distinctive design of faces that look like clothing hooks. “The simple curved lines with which he rendered facial features on headstones earned him the moniker, ‘the hook-and-eye-man.’” Often the faces had turned-down mouths and bulbous noses. Pinwheels and four-leaf clovers were etched along the sides. The top of the stones came in a variety of patterns, some with a skull, some with a cherub ascending to heaven, and some with a willow tree and urn.

It generally took ten days for a carver such as Bartlett to create a stone, deliver it, and set it up. For his efforts, Bartlett received $8. But his work did not make him a wealthy man. When he died his “real and personal estate” was valued at only $481.62.

Gershom’s wife Margret died in 1778, leaving behind eight children. But even with a large family to tend to on his own, Bartlett continued to create gravestones until he died at the age of 75 in 1798. He is buried next to his wife in the Waterman Hill Cemetery.

Thanks to Lauren Pidgeon for her work creating a walking tour of Hillside Cemetery this summer: www.norwichhistory.org/hillside-cemetery. All quoted material comes from Norwich, Vermont: A History and was written by Bill Aldrich. The Cemetery Commission, Norwich Public Library, and Norwich Historical Society have access to most of the cemetery maps. The Norwich Historical Society has an updated record of most occupants of the cemeteries.

The Norwich Times covers for the partial years of 1997 and 2022 can be found on the cover of this current issue, and the 96 issues in between are highlighted here.

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Every individual matters.

Every individual has a role to play.

Every individual makes a difference.

~ Jane Goodall

It’s unusual for a small Vermont town like Norwich to be featured on the CBS national news because of its citizens’ goodwill. But that’s exactly what happened in early December when Dan & Whit’s general store owner Dan Fraser put out a plea for help due to the statewide worker shortage. Every position needed to be filled or the store would close. That’s when community members stepped forward and volunteered to stock the shelves and run the registers. Remarkable as the turnout has been, and it has been an amazing event, this is far from the first time the people of Norwich, sometimes as a group, sometimes as individuals, have stepped forward. It seems to be a town tradition. At the top of any list of community caretakers must come Elsie Sniffin, whose good works and selfless devotion to Norwich spread over nearly 50 years.

Elsie was born on August 25, 1915, in Norwalk, Connecticut. Her father was a member of the Masons and as a girl, Elsie joined the Rainbow Girls Club, an offshoot of the Masons that taught leadership training through community service to young women. According to the club’s literature, “The International Order of the Rainbow for Girls believes that through helping others, we truly help ourselves. The benefits a young girl can gain from performing acts of kindness are endless.” The club’s message had a large impact on Elsie. When she turned 21, she became the leader of her local Rainbow Girls club, making her the youngest person in Connecticut ever to hold that position.  

Following the completion of a two-year business course in 1935, she became a salesperson for H.L. Green Co., a nationally known variety store. In a year she became a cashier and office supervisor, in 1942 assistant manager, and in 1948, Elsie became the first woman in the company’s history to be promoted from store ranks to executive offices as assistant to the personnel director of the company. In this position, she created and developed training programs and manuals for store personnel in the company’s 140 stores.

In 1959 Elsie and her friend, Ruth Peet, bought 150 acres of land in Beaver Meadow on the western edge of Norwich and visited the property in the summers. When H.L. Green was purchased by a larger firm in 1961, Elise and Ruth moved to the area permanently. According to the town report of 2008 that was dedicated to Elsie, “The road to Norwich was mostly dirt and old Charlie Hodgdon was convinced that ‘the girls’ (as they were affectionately known) would not last that first winter!” They did.

Elsie found work right off the bat as a secretary in the Department of Sociology at Dartmouth and worked there for 13 years. In 1974, she left the academic life to begin her third career as a lister for the town of Norwich, a position she held for sixteen years. “The town office personnel were like one big family,” said Deb VanArman whose mother, Janet Pierce, was the town clerk at that time. “They celebrated birthdays together and socialized together.”

Beyond her jobs, Elsie found time to bolster the spirits of her neighbors. “She was a one-person welcoming committee,” said Donna Wheeler, a Beaver Meadow neighbor of Elsie’s. “When you moved into the area, she stopped by with a card and a small gift.” If someone was ill, Elsie would visit or bring over a meal. “She was so caring and tried to keep the community strong. And she was so organized she could do it.” In addition to her efforts on the individual level, Elsie worked hard to revitalize the spirit of the community, whether it was in Beaver Meadow or Norwich. No better example of her civic spirit can be shown than the work she did for the Beaver Meadow Chapel.

The history of Beaver Meadow Chapel began in October of 1915, when Margaret Kerr, a retired teacher from New York, bought a small farm in Beaver Meadow. Early on, she described her neighbors as “very poor, a good deal of drinking and rough everywhere.” Kerr felt that a chapel could help “raise the standard of living.” The idea was approved by her neighbors and land was donated for the chapel. Men in the village volunteered to build the structure and several women along with Miss Kerr visited business leaders and asked for donations. A druggist in Hanover, L.B. Downing, donated a Bible and the first sermon was given by a Dartmouth student on December 19, 1915.

When Elsie and Ruth arrived in Beaver Meadow, the chapel needed repair and was rarely used. So, Elsie went to work. She “retrieved the chapel organ from the town historical society where it had been kept for safekeeping” and talked with her neighbors about starting services again. Her good name and friendly approach encouraged people from the area to support the project. As Wheeler noted, “She had a way about her that made it easier to say yes than no to her.” Elsie’s efforts paid off and the chapel, with a new roof, reopened. The congregation met on the third Sunday of each month from March to December. In recent years services have been trimmed to the third Sunday of each month from May to December.  

From the start, Elsie felt the chapel, with its small steeple and white clapboards, built in a hollow between two hills and tight to the road, was a New England treasure that needed to be preserved. So, she and other members of the community went through the lengthy, but successful process to have the building placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1995. Using the writing and research from the project, Elsie organized a book about the chapel and the Beaver Meadow community, The Good Men Do which was published in 2003.

According to the biographical notes attached to her funeral program, Elsie’s hobbies “included writing, reading, cooking, and beekeeping.” But when anyone examines the number of organizations that claimed Elsie as a member, it’s hard to imagine she had time to eat and sleep, let alone time for beekeeping. Through the years she was a trustee of the Norwich library, board member and treasurer of the Norwich Senior Housing, and director and treasurer of the Beaver Meadow Chapel Association. She was also a member of the University Grange, the Norwich Historical Society, the Women’s Club, and the Congregational Church. But, according to the program, her favorite hobby was “loving and caring for her family and many beloved friends.”

When people who knew her are asked about Elsie, they acknowledge her community achievements, but then enthusiastically detail the warmth and care she showed to others. Once, a neighbor, recently widowed, needed housing, so Elsie provided her with a rent-free condo for two years. “She was the kindest person and just revered,” said Deb VanArman. “When my mother was failing and about to die, Elsie visited her every day. When she couldn’t visit, she called.” According to VanArman, Elsie helped her community in so many ways. “Elsie was the first person to reach out to those in need. She’d give a ride to anyone in the Meadow who needed a way to get to ‘town,’ provided food for the sick and needy, and shared the history of the Meadow with anyone.”  

In 2004, well into her 80s, Elsie helped organize an art auction to fund the Norwich Historical Society’s move from its Church Street location to the Lewis House on Main Street. Over 50 artists donated works and the auction raised more than $10,000. According to a NHS tribute, Elsie was a visionary board member, who “championed the purchase of the Lewis House not only as the home of the Historical Society but also as a community center. She saw the move bringing us all together for the greater good, something for which she worked tirelessly all her life.”

In 2005 Elsie was awarded a Vermont Public Service Award by the Vermont secretary of state for her lifelong service to the town of Norwich. In 2006 she was made an honorary trustee of the Norwich Historical Society.

In her final years, Elsie had discussed with friends how she planned to celebrate her 100th birthday and the 100th anniversary of the Beaver Meadow Chapel in the summer of 2015. She wanted to hire a horse and carriage and ride neighbors by the chapel and around the Meadow. But, alas, this was one goal Elsie did not reach, for she passed away in 2008. Yet her contributions live on today throughout the area, as does the memory of her goodwill and friendship. As Nancy Osgood, a past president of the historical society, noted shortly after Elsie’s death, “I don’t think that I will ever enter the Meadow without thinking of her.”

For a clear historical snapshot of a community like Norwich, there is no better resource than a census report. The census sketches out the character of a town by providing information about where people were born, size of family, education, occupation, and income. If you look carefully, you can get a sense of the society in years past, especially when you examine the occupation column. For example, in the 1940 Norwich census, laborers, farmers, lawyers, doctors, and professors were positions all held by men. Most of the women were listed as housewives. It was a rarity of the times to find a woman who worked outside the home. That’s what made Norwich’s Ruby Fitzgerald, who worked for New England Telephone and Telegraph for 48 years, such a pioneer.

Ruby was born in Norwich in 1902. Her father, Fred Fitzgerald, built a 21-room home on the corner of Hazen and Main Streets, where Ruby spent much of her life. Along with being a carpenter, Fred was a tax collector, ran an insurance company, and was the town constable for nearly 50 years. When Ruby’s mother, Millie, wasn’t caring for Ruby and her sister and brother, she found time to run a millinery store out of the home where she sold fine hats to women. Millie was also known for her baking prowess. 

The town bought a two-stall jail with two bunks in each one and installed the “lockup” in the Fitzgerald’s garage. Criminals were few but hobos, or “knights of the highway,” came by three or four times a week and were allowed to sleep in the cells. Millie always pulled together a supper for the travelers and a breakfast of donuts, oatmeal, and coffee. According to Ruby, “They had a night’s lodging and breakfast, and then were sent merrily along their way.” Today, the jail can be seen in the barn of the Norwich Historical Society.  

In 1908, along with caring for strangers and raising a family, the Fitzgeralds found time to operate the first telephone exchange in Norwich. So, Ruby’s career as a telephone operator really began at the age of 12, when she sat at the switchboard in her home. The switchboard was open from 7am-9pm, with bells to report any emergency calls during the night. “Running the exchange was sort of a family project, and we all got our hand in, though my mother was on duty most often, she said.”

In 1919 when Ruby was just 17, inspired by her experience with the family exchange, she joined New England Telephone and began her career in Hanover. In 1922 the company moved its operation to the corner of Gates and Currier Streets in White River Junction. Ruby shifted from Hanover to the new location. 

With the first telephones, one phone could be connected to another by a wire. Telephone exchanges made it possible to connect with many different phones. A person would call an exchange and ask the operator to connect them to the person they wanted to speak with, and the operator would plug a “patch cord” into that person’s socket on the switchboard, connecting the two. Long-distance calls required the local exchange to patch through the call to another exchange, where the call could be completed.

When Ruby began her career all the operators were women. Teenage boys were the first operators, but they turned out to be rude and impatient and often disconnected customers. Women operators were hired and proved to be polite and faster with calls than the men they replaced. But for women, there was a strict set of rules. Dresses and nylons had to be worn. No pants were allowed. In addition, outrageous as it sounds by today’s standards, the women had to be single. Operators were taught to be formal. “Number please?” and “Thank you!” were said in even tones. If an operator recognized a voice, they were not allowed to converse with the person. By the 1960s rules were eased. Operators could be married. Pantsuits were allowed, but only with heels or dress shoes. 

Even with the rules, compared to other service jobs that a woman could hold in the 1920s, a switchboard operator worked with some of the most sophisticated technical equipment of the time where accuracy and concentration were of utmost importance. The job required weeks of training in switchboard techniques before an operator could work the exchange.

Ruby became a junior supervisor in 1928, and in 1933 was promoted to senior supervisor. According to the 1940 census, Ruby worked 50 weeks a year, eight hours a day, and earned $2,400 for the entire year, which is equal to about $47,000 today. The pay was considered good for women who did not attend college. As one operator recalled, “If you get into the phone company, you’ll be taken care of for life.” 

Ruby’s final promotion came in 1946 when she became the chief operator. With this position, Ruby oversaw hiring new operators. She conducted job interviews in a quiet room so she could judge the quality of a young woman’s voice. As chief operator, she led visiting dignitaries on tours of the exchange and spoke to different civic groups. In a talk to the White River Junction Rotary Club in 1955, Ruby predicted that “a dial system would not be introduced here before 1956 or ‘57.” It arrived in 1961 and allowed callers to simply dial another phone without the aid of an operator, although operators were needed to complete long-distance calls.  

Life behind the switchboard was not just hard work and long hours. For Ruby, there were many exciting experiences that came along with the job. During the 1927 flood which destroyed 1,285 Vermont bridges and is considered the state’s largest natural disaster, Ruby said, “I had to cross the river on a railroad bridge to get to work, and just ten minutes after I got to the other side, they closed the bridge because it was too dangerous to cross. Only four or five of us were able to get to the office during the flooding. We had to work three days and three nights to keep the exchange going.” She also put in extra hours in 1929, when the Junction House, the Hotel Coolidge today, burned down, and again during the hurricane of 1936.

“You live every emergency along with the people involved,” she said in an interview at the end of her career, “and go to any extreme to complete their calls. Telephone work really is more than a job.” 

In the winter of 1967 Ruby, who was turning 65 in June of that year, retired from the telephone company. “Everyone has to retire at 65, even the president of the company. That was the ruling,” a fellow operator pointed out. Ruby left the company with a flourish, with awards and a testimonial dinner at Landers Restaurant in Lebanon that was attended by nearly 200 people. Ruby was interviewed for the phone company newsletter when she visited the exchange a week after she retired. Her feelings were mixed. She admitted that she missed the other operators but added, “I don’t miss setting my alarm clock at night and getting up when it’s dark outside.” Ruby concluded the interview by saying, “It’ll still be quite a while before I get used to not working. I feel as though something is missing all the time now.”

Through the years, Ruby was a member of the Norwich Congregational Church and the local Red Cross, which during the first years of World War II knitted over 190 sweaters and sewed 324 dresses. She enjoyed attending Dartmouth football games and pulled for the Red Sox. After her parents died, Ruby cared for the Norwich home along with her brother Robert, who was Norwich’s town clerk for 32 years, and his wife Marjorie. Ruby’s younger sister, Ruth, died in 1935 at the age of 32. Her son Fred aka. “Bud” came to live in the Norwich home and stayed with Ruby until he died in 1987. 

As Ruby left the telephone exchange for the last time, the woman many dubbed “Mrs. Bell of Tel. And Tel.” added, “It’s not really a goodbye, just another turn in the road.”  Ruby passed away in 1993 at the age of 91. 

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.