Ever since Root Schoolhouse, a 1937 one-room schoolhouse located across from Hogwash Farm on Union Village Road at the intersection of Goodrich Four Corners Road, was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2013, interest in this historic treasure has spread far beyond Norwich. This year, Boston-based Historic New England, the nation’s oldest, largest, and most comprehensive regional heritage organization, gave the Root District Game Club a $1,000 Community Preservation Grant to support its efforts to rebuild the schoolhouse’s deteriorating foundation and reopen the building for public use.

Every year, Historic New England distributes six awards to historic preservation projects in each of the six New England states. The Root District Game Club, the caretaker and owner of the schoolhouse since 1952 when the building started being used as a community center, is honored to be this year’s lone award recipient for Vermont. In October, Historic New England’s Ken Turino visited with members of the Game Club at the schoolhouse and presented the award to Jean Lawe. Jean, like fellow Game Club officers Suzie Wallis and John Lawe, has been working to preserve the schoolhouse since the 1960s. All three remain an integral part of the current effort to save the building and hope to see their work completed in 2017.

Concerns about the deteriorating foundation of Root Schoolhouse are nearly as old as the building itself. In a letter dated November 12, 1975, the officers of the Game Club reported to its members, “We have come a long way this year. This time last year we estimated that we would need over $1000 to pay for materials for restoration of the Clubhouse alone. Thanks to some very generous gifts of money, and much time and labor by many people, including some non-members, the work on the foundations has been completed.” Jean Lawe was one of the officers who signed this letter.

That project, according to a January 17, 1975 story by the Granite State Gazette entitled “Goodrich Schoolhouse Project Restoring Neighborliness Too” led to a “social renaissance” in the Goodrich Four Corners neighborhood. In that article, Game Club co-president Robert Ladd reports being surprised by the terrific response to the “save-the-schoolhouse” appeal: “We think it’s kind of beneficial to the community to keep a place which can be used for a variety of purposes…. Years ago, people used to use their community churches and schoolhouses, and maybe they’re coming back to it. Maybe people are more interested in staying closer to home.”

Today, the unstable foundation is again threatening the future of the schoolhouse. As it did in 1975, the Game Club is working to save the schoolhouse and return it to public use for the first time since 2011, and once again can gratefully report, “we have come a long way this year.” In 2016, the Game Club received “very generous gifts of money” from many friends as well as grants from Mascoma Savings Bank, the Norwich Women’s Club, and the Country School Association of America. To date, the Game Club has raised over $35,000 towards this effort, and is now working to raise another $5,000 by the end of 2016 so that it can claim the full $40,000 matching pledge from the Jack and Dorothy Byrne Foundation. This should allow the Game Club to completely rebuild the foundation, at last finishing the work started over forty years ago, and have the schoolhouse ready for limited use before the end of 2017.

If you are interested in supporting the effort to save and reopen Root Schoolhouse, you can find information about donating on the Game Club’s website: www.rootschoolhouse.com. (The Game Club is a 501(c)3 nonprofit organization.) You can also support the schoolhouse by purchasing a DVD of the 2015 Historic New England/CATV documentary “Back to School: Lessons from Norwich’s One-Room Schoolhouses” at Dan & Whit’s. This DVD was made possible thanks to a Community Projects Grant from the Norwich Women’s Club.

On a recent October morning, Mr. Bill had field trips on his mind. “What I like about field trips is that they are not just about going out to see something and enjoying it,” says Mr. Bill. “It connects back.” Whether it’s kindergartners picking apples and then selling them to the rest of the school to learn a little about entrepreneurship, or fourth graders going to the Tunbridge Fair to see pig races at an old-time fair as part of their unit on Vermont history, the value of these excursions extends far beyond the undeniable fun they provide.

Through field trips, children are able to recognize that “…although a lot of learning happens in schools, schools are not the only source of learning,” says Mr. Bill. “The whole world is our source and we don’t want people to get in the mindset that the only meaningful learning can happen in the classroom.”

This fall, in addition to apple picking, kindergartners picked pumpkins at Cedar Circle and then practiced inquiry science by working together to formulate questions about the pumpkins (Will they float? Does the size determine whether they will float?), hypothesizing, and then experimenting so they could see for themselves. First graders visited the meadow a couple times a week throughout the fall as part of their science study. As part of their unit on social studies, they visited the Norwich Historical Society to learn about community helpers and what their jobs were like a long time ago. They also walked to Tracy Hall on Election Day to quietly watch the process of voting, before returning to their classroom to talk about their observations and then privately vote for president and tally the vote. Second graders regularly visited Blood Brook and then took a tour from its beginning to its end. In October, as part of their study of the forest, third graders visited the Squam Science Center, where they observed many of the mammals that live in the forest. Earlier in the fall, third graders walked around the Norwich Green and identified the different species of trees planted along the fence. In addition to the Tunbridge Fair, as part of the Learning about the Environment through Experiential Education Projects (LEEEP) Program, led by Lindsay Putnam, the fourth graders visited an abandoned beaver lodge up on Chapel Hill Road, and were even allowed to crawl in to see what it’s like inside the beaver lodge. As part of their Vermont history unit, fourth graders went on a tour of the state house. In September, fifth graders took a two-night, three-day trip to the Hulbert Outdoor Education Center where they learned about leadership and group cohesiveness.  Sixth graders did the ropes course at Dartmouth to challenge themselves and deepen their cooperation and decision-making skills, as well as their self-confidence.

“People learn in different ways. So the more experiences you give people in different situations, the more likely they will have multiple ways of approaching a new problem or a new opportunity,” says Mr. Bill. “Students who get restless in a classroom are suddenly at home in the forest. Those who are at home in a classroom get stretched by the forest.”

The budget only covers one third of the cost of field trips, says Mr. Bill, but he considers them “a key part of our program.” Parents are sometimes charged for a third of the cost, and the other third comes from grants.

“The primary reason it is so important to take field trips is that direct learning is far more effective than indirect learning,” says Mr. Bill. Students should have the opportunity to touch leaves on the trees that they are learning to identify, look at bugs in a magnifying glass, get their feet muddy in the brook. “You can talk forever about what larvae and butterflies look like,” says Mr. Bill, “but the more direct experience, the more powerful the emotional response. And emotions are such a key component to long-term learning.”

On September 24th of this year, a beautiful thing happened.

Close to 350 kids of all ages (2-40+) gathered at Riverside Community Park in West Lebanon to celebrate the renaming of the skatepark and to commit to its revitalization. As with most successful endeavors, this was and continues to be a joint effort between dedicated individuals and public and private entities.

As is often the case, it seems that when tragedy occurs, magic soon follows. Thus is the case with the new life and energy being poured into the recently named Rusty Berrings Skatepark. Yes, “Rusty” knew how to spell “bearing” but being more than a little unconventional was how he rolled (no pun intended!). An avid skateboarder, artist and overall creative genius, Tyler Kirschner’s (aka Rusty Berrings) memory will live on in the Upper Valley’s local skatepark. Tyler passed away on November 6, 2015 at 28 years old. An extremely generous and creative guy, Tyler struggled for years with mental illness; he undoubtedly continues to share his genius from a more peaceful place.

Tyler’s parents, local concert promoter, Buddy Kirschner, and his wife, Ginny, endured the unfathomable loss of their child. What has risen up from the depths of their pain has been the magic referred to above. From the outpouring of love and support from those closest to them, to the newly-formed connections made with Tyler’s online skateboarding group, to the friendships made with construction workers at the skatepark, a fire has been ignited in both Buddy and Ginny to keep Tyler’s spirit alive in their lives and in the legacy that he is leaving behind for others to share.

“It’s amazing but true, as one door closes, many more open,” said Buddy during our recent interview in the living room at the Norwich Inn.

“This whole year has been about the skatepark. We have put on benefit concerts [see sidebar, next page], worked with the City [of Lebanon], learned how to write fundraising letters…,” Buddy continued.

“I’ve gotten really strong from shoveling dirt and gravel all summer,” laughed Ginny, referring to helping out with the first phase of rehabbing the skatepark. “It has been very therapeutic to have this project that is so near and dear to my heart that keeps us connected to Tyler.”

When he was 8 years old, Tyler started skateboarding behind the Marion Cross School in Norwich. Skateboarding (and rollerblading) has endured a bad rap largely due to the fact that many of its participants represent a counter-culture of young people. In a recent fundraising letter, Paul Coats, Director of Lebanon Recreation and Parks, wrote:

“20 years ago these sports were frowned upon because there were no legal public spaces to skate. Instead of shunning these individuals, the City decided to embrace them by pulling the community together to build Lebanon’s first skatepark…”

Thankfully, through its commitment to reinvest in the revitalization and the ongoing maintenance of the skatepark, the City of Lebanon continues to see that by providing a safe and welcoming place for these “non-jock” athletes to practice their moves, other important, albeit less obvious, benefits arise across the board. Kids of all ages and from a variety of different backgrounds gather here to enjoy their passion. Friendships are made; older kids look out for the younger ones and show them moves; kids are engaged in an outdoor physical activity where screens and phones are put away for the time being. Positive community in the making. No arguments here!

Community abounds online, as well. After Tyler’s death, Buddy and Ginny learned even more about the world of skateboarders. In going through their son’s things, they discovered that he was deeply connected to a forum on SLAP magazine which is an online site for skateboarders from around the world. Rusty Berrings, as he was known online, was Tyler’s pen name, so to speak.

Here’s an excerpt from SLAP’s online forum:

RIP Rusty Berrings

November 12, 2015, 05:03:35 PM

One of slaps most controversial posters passed away last week. He definitely battled some demons, but he was also one of the nicest guys I ever interacted with on here. Some of the greatest posts of all time came from him too. Seems like sometimes he could get on top of things, and at these times his insights into mental illness and skateboarding were brilliant (and a little bit out there). He always had a way of making absurd ideas relatable though. I felt for him a lot and now hoping his family and is handling it okay.

The messages of love and support and the positive impact “Rusty” had on fellow boarders around the world inspired Buddy and Ginny to reach out. Using one of Tyler’s most recent sketches, the couple had t-shirts, hats and stickers made and then sent them to Tyler’s online – and local –  friends around the world.

“There isn’t a continent on this planet that doesn’t have one of our stickers,” exclaimed Buddy.

Buoyed by this new-found community around the world and the local community back home, Buddy and Ginny hit the ground running and have committed to raising the $200,000 needed to bring the Rusty Berrings Skate Park back to life. Please join them and many others as they invest their time, energy and financial resources towards this revitalized facility which will provide a safe and welcoming place for our youth and young people to engage in healthy physical activity while creating lifelong community connections.

Over February break, twenty American kids, mostly from the Upper Valley, will spend two weeks in Zambia, developing their circus skills alongside kids from Chibolya, an impoverished section of the Zambian capital of Lukhasa. For many of the kids from the U.S., this will be a return trip after their first journey there last winter.

The seeds were sown for this unlikely pairing of circus-loving kids from far ends of the earth during a snowstorm in New York City on Valentine’s Day of 2014. Norwich resident Brooke Ciardelli, who had recently ended her tenure as Founding Producing and Artistic Director of Northern Stage, was directing for a short play festival in Greenwich Village. When she ducked into a bar to get out of the snow, she bumped into an old friend Manual Bagorro, director of the Harare International Festival of the Arts (HIFA). She had met him back in 2008 when she brought a one-man show originally produced at Northern Stage to HIFA. Over drinks, Bagorro invited her to write and direct the Opening Show for the upcoming festival, which – with 185 artists from 35 countries – is the largest arts festival in sub-Saharan Africa. “I’d just gone freelance with no plan so I was in ‘yes’ mode,” says Ciardelli. Within weeks she headed to Zimbabwe.

While there, she hit it off with a group of performers from a theater group from Zambia called Barefeet Theatre (including three founding members of what is now Circus Zambia). The founder of Barefeet invited Ciardelli to write and direct a theater production in the fall of 2014, and so she returned.

In the few years since that first visit to Africa, Ciardelli’s relationship with Barefeet Theatre and its members has resulted in many enriching collaborations. When Ciardelli learned that Barefeet Theatre had been invited to perform for the UN in June 2014, she brought them to the U.S. a few days early so they could perform on the Norwich Green on the last day of school, visit classes at Marion Cross, and teach a workshop. Ciardelli also produced a Barefeet show off-Broadway, returned to Lusaka, Zambia to write and direct a Barefeeet production, and brought a one-woman show with DC based dancer/choreographer Princess Mhoon to perform in Zambia as part of the Youth Arts Festival.

In the fall of 2015, the founders of what is now Circus Zambia shared with Ciardelli their dream of running a social circus school to help the kids who live in their hometown of Chibolya develop the tools they need for a better life. About 80 percent of the population of Chibolya is younger than 14 years old and most don’t stay in school and instead spend their days on the dusty streets surrounded by crime and drugs.

“Zambian kids are terrific acrobats because they just need their body and empty space. There are no playgrounds, there are no toys. They do street acrobatics because you don’t need anything. They would take a bunch of plastic bags and wrap them into a ball. I’ve seen them use a rubber tire as a mini trampoline,” says Ciardelli.

“A social circus school focuses on developing social and life skills rather than the tricks,” she explains. “These kids need to learn to become self-advocates, and that takes courage and trust, and a sense that you can actually change your life. The circus part is a conduit. Maybe a few will end up working as circus people but the circus skills build confidence, self-respect and trust, and the ability to stand up in front of someone and perform, to be a child who is given a voice.”

During this conversation, Ciardelli mentioned that the Upper Valley is home to many children who are passionate about learning circus skills, including her own son, William (now age 13) who had taken Ted Lawrence’s Norwich Rec Department summer circus camp. “I somewhat casually said, “Oh! We’ve got a great youth circus program in our town of Norwich – my son has attended for two years – wouldn’t it be great to do an exchange!?”

So, enlisting the help of Lawrence, who also runs Van Lodostov Family Circus, Ciardelli approached other Norwich circus families about the idea of going to Zambia over February vacation, and was met with great enthusiasm. Before departing, Upper Valley families collected donations and each kid brought school supplies, toiletries and gifts for each of their buddy kids. They also gathered circus equipment to use during the exchange and to help start the circus school in Zambia.

Last February break, seven kids from the Upper Valley between the ages of 12 and 18 and four parents joined Ciardelli and Lawrence on the first circus exchange with Circus Zambia and their youth performers. Together the Americans and Zambians created a joint circus and performed four shows, drawing crowds as large as 1000 people.

The kids became good friends during rehearsal, sharing Zambian lunches, including caterpillar, fish head and emu. “They all ate it. All of them,” says Ciardelli of the American kids. “We thought it was important that the American kids had a sense of where the Zambian kids are from,” says Ciardelli. So they organized trips into Chibolya, including home visits with their buddy’s family.

“I don’t think any of us expected our children to embrace this so fully,” says Ciardelli. “There was no hanging back, no struggle to take in this experience. They just sucked it in. You could see these American kids changing in front of your eyes,” she says.

Signe Taylor of Norwich recalls the night she picked up her daughter Lyla Stettenheim, now 16, and her husband Joel, from the Dartmouth Coach after their trip. “She was both really happy to see me and her brother and also a little withdrawn. As we were driving home, she started speaking about her experiences in Zambia. She talked about how [her father and I] have always said that we are privileged and that we live in a wealthy community and that many others in the country and the world don’t have what we are lucky to have. She talked about how those words didn’t mean that much to her but that getting to know the Circus Zambia performers and kids in Lusaka opened her eyes in a very big and real way to some of the inequalities in this world. I think that’s a huge take away…” Lyla will be returning this year, this time with her mother and her 12-year-old brother Soren, who has attended three sessions of Lawrence’s Camp.

All participants on both sides of the exchange learned and grew from the experience. Before the U.S. kids came, the Circus Zambia kids practiced only sporadically and hadn’t been introduced to clowning, juggling, unicycling, or many other circus tricks. They now have circus equipment and have been gathering two afternoons a week and all day on Saturdays, and their skills have improved immensely, says Ciardelli.

And this past October, Ciardelli traveled to Zambia to help Circus Zambia make an offer on permanent building for the circus school, thanks to funds raised in the Upper Valley. “It’s an old disused school with enough outdoor space to put a small-sized circus tent. It has running water and bathrooms that need love, but that, in Zambian context, are terrific,” says Ciardelli. The hope is that it will be a done deal by February.

Having an actual building will allow more children to attend circus training, ensure that they train in a safe environment, and make it possible to expand the hours of training. In addition to the circus training area, the school will include a computer lab, tutoring facilities and library. The plan is that once a child is in the circus program, scholarships will be available to pay for public school fees, books, uniforms and shoes. At the school, children will have access to safe and sanitary bathroom facilities and clean water, which are not currently available in their own section of the city. The school will also have cooking facilities and internet access. Basic life and social skills such as hygiene, communication and sexual education, will be taught.

Toward the end of last year’s February exchange the parents of the U.S. kids were so overwhelmed by what they saw that they decided to fund a trip to the U.S. for Circus Zambia. Six Zambians between the ages of 18 and 24 spent the summer in the Upper Valley, doing home stays and observing how the Van Lodostov Family Circus Program is run, so they could bring their knowledge back to Zambia. Three days a week, teachers also helped the young Zambians with English, reading, writing and math, and the Circus Zambia performers did shows and workshops around the Upper Valley.

“Another goal was to expose them to as many other professional circus performers as we could, because many of them had never actually seen a circus,” says Ciardelli. (Circus Zambia is the only circus in the country.) They spent a couple overnights with Bread and Puppet, and they did an immersion with Circus Smirkus when they came through. And Cirque du Soleil invited them to be guests to watch them perform on Broadway.

“We had all the performers over on many evenings and those were just very special summer nights,” says Signe Taylor, whose family hosted two Circus Zambia performers last summer. “They cooked Zambian food, joked, sang. The Circus Zambia performers are among the nicest young men I’ve met! They were polite, enthusiastic, eager to learn, kind and helpful. They were also fantastic role models for our son. I got such a kick out of seeing them all on our sofa playing FIFA on our Xbox, shooting hoops, swimming and teasing each other. It was a very fun summer simply because they were here.”

Even some non-circus siblings who helped with reading and writing this summer will be heading to Zambia this winter. “We will run half the programs at the school and half at other places, so the parents and kids not involved in the circus can work on renovating the school, painting, putting doors on hinges building benches and school desks,” says Ciardelli.

“What I love is that our connection to Circus Zambia both makes the world a smaller place because of our connection to these fantastic young men and also a bigger place because it helps my kids gain a more realistic sense of both the wealth and poverty on our planet,” Taylor. “I can’t imagine anything more important than gaining that broader connection with and understanding of the world.”

“Circus Zambia grabbed my heart and would not let go and I thought maybe some other people would love it but the amount of embrace that has happened from this community is staggering,” says Ciardelli.

“Upper Valley kids are worrying about, ‘how do I find $100 so one of these Zambian kids can go to school for a year?’ They are organizing bake sales and circus clubs and asking for more chores to earn money to purchase building supplies to renovate the school in Chibolya,” says Ciardelli.

“It’s citizenship and true cultural diplomacy at its best,” she adds. “World leaders need to do their part but really the power is in what you are seeing these kids do. These are the values of the Upper Valley, and I’ve not seen it more potently illustrated than with these kids. This is the future.”

Don’t forget to get your tickets to see Dark Star Orchestra to benefit the Rusty Berrings Skatepark in memory of Tyler Kirschner.

Dark Star Orchestra recreates set lists from some of the most legendary Grateful Dead shows in the Dead’s 30 years of touring. If you’ve ever wondered why the fans were/are so loyal to what the Dead was offering, you now have a chance to experience what it was like to be in an intimate venue, with a couple thousand of your now closest friends (because that’s what seems to happen), and just let the music carry the evening. When the seven members of DSO play, they remind us that the music never stopped and it definitely isn’t stopping any time soon.

“Quite possibly the most talented and accomplished tribute band out there…they’ve definitely mastered their inspiration’s vagabond nature.”

-Rolling Stone 

Help keep the Rusty Berrings Skatepark, located at the Riverside Community Park in Lebanon, a permanent and free recreational venue for the entire Upper Valley!

www.gofundme.com/lebanonnhskatepark

I had the distinct pleasure of interviewing Jay Van Arman of Norwich this week. He is a man who spends much of his time looking to fill needs in his community. He’s driven by his volunteer work with the Norwich Lions Club, and by a desire to give as much as he can to Norwich. Jay shared a piece of advice another local farmer gave him, “Jay,” he said, “you get back double what you give.” Then, Jay continued, “I think there is a lot of truth to that. So that’s why I feel fortunate to live in such a community.”

Jay Van Arman has devoted most of his life striving to give what he can to make Norwich a better community. Not long after his new father-in-law passed away and Jay took over operations at the family farm of his wife, Debby Van Arman (previously Pierce), he began driving the school bus for the Norwich School District.

Jay drove the bus from 1971 to 1978, while raising three kids – and a herd of Jersey cows – with Debby. After driving the bus, Jay began to work for the United States Postal Service. At the same time, he was very active in the Norwich Lions Club which is part of one of the largest service organizations in the world. On occasion, they connect with other local chapters to coordinate on events, but mostly the Club focuses on civic volunteerism within the chapter area. He credits the Lions Club with much of his volunteerism since the idea behind the Lions is neighbor helping neighbor.

He served on the Norwich Selectboard as well as the School Board, each for two terms. Jay was also on the Zoning Board. The Norwich Fire Department was lucky enough to have him for 29 years, including a short period he spent as assistant chief. Jay was, and still is, focused on helping create a better town with each small step.

Jay is on the council for the Parish Church and, for some time was also a Justice of the Peace. He understood the idea of giving back as more than just helping Norwich by working on the boards that govern it, but also by providing love and support to those who needed it.

When Jay retired from the Postal Service, one of the first jobs he began immediately after was driving the bus again. “I love kids and I enjoy driving the bus,” he said. The image is one that makes me smile. My own young daughter has a bus driver who is much like Jay; it is wonderful to know your child is in safe and happy hands.

Retired or not, Jay did not slow down. He began delivering Meals on Wheels one day a week; a role he took on when another Norwich figure, William Osgood passed away. Jay has been delivering Meals since 2003.

Debby Van Arman shares Jay’s volunteer spirit as well, and sometimes they work together in various ways, like keeping up the appearance of the town. Jay is the one who puts up the flags on Main Street for Patriotic holidays, with help from a man named Demo, and he decorates the trees with Christmas lights. Debby plants flowers along Main Street and keeps them watered. She is also very involved with the Norwich Historical Society. Their farm was featured in the 2014 House and Garden Tour.

Debby is also present for much of the work Jay does with the Lions Club, helping out where she can. Once a month, the two of them assist with the Lions Club sponsored dinner at the Listen Center. Jay, taking less credit for himself, reiterated the influence of the Lions Club on his dedication to giving back.

As we spoke more about Norwich, I could hear his love for the town in Jay’s voice. He said, “I think people should try to give back to the town they live in. If they live in a town, they should help out wherever they can.”

In the autumn of 1765, John Hutchinson tramped over the trails from Ashford, Connecticut to Hanover, New Hampshire with little more than a horse “upon which rode his wife and babes, some clothing and bedding and also another necessary animal to a growing family – a cow.”* From Hanover, the family paddled across the Connecticut River in a log canoe, with the animals swimming alongside, to a clearing that was soon to be part of the town of Norwich. Jerome Hutchinson, who was three at the time, “was fond of relating when an old man, his distinct remembrance of the appearance presented of the old white-faced cow as she struggled bravely to keep her head above water while swimming the river.” The Hutchinsons, along with another family, hunkered down in a log hut not far from where the cow waddled ashore and became the first settlers to winter in Norwich, a stone’s throw from today’s Ledyard Bridge.

The short gap across the Connecticut River was called the ‘narrow place’ and became an ideal location for settlers to travel by canoe or flatboat between Vermont and New Hampshire. In 1770, John Sargent set up a public ferry and tavern on the Vermont side of the river. Unfortunately for Sargent – disliked by Dartmouth officials for selling rum to the students – he also ran afoul of the law by operating a ferry business. In 1764, King George III had given New Hampshire control of the Connecticut River to the western bank of the river. A few years later, the ferry rights for “the whole length of the township of Hanover” were entrusted to the administrators of Dartmouth College. When he heard this news, Sargent grumbled in a letter to Dr. Wheelock, founder of Dartmouth, that he was “…not about to give up my rite to said ferry So Long as I think Justice and Equaty gives it to me. [sic]” Eventually he relented and turned over the business to the college who then leased out the ferry operation. In 1793, a Norwich physician, Dr. Lewis, who also ran a gristmill, obtained the lease and ran the ferry “toll free to the clergy and College officials, as well as to those who use his gristmill.”

In the 1790s, better transportation was needed for the growing population. Since states lacked the power to tax their citizens to build highways, companies were established to build roads and bridges that were paid for by tolls. The White River Falls Bridge Company was incorporated in 1792, and one of its first projects was to investigate the construction of a bridge between Hanover and Norwich.

The citizens of Norwich bristled at the notion of a toll bridge. At the town meeting in 1796, it was voted unanimously, “that we wish there might be a free bridge built over the river at Dr. Lewis’ and in case we cannot have a free Bridge built there, we rather have a ferry kept there than to have a toll bridge built. [sic]” But the town was unable to raise the funds for the project and had to accept the inevitably of a toll bridge. To soften the blow, the builders assured the Vermonters that they could still pass for free over the water in boats or on the ice in the winter. The bridge would also be open without charge on Sundays so people could attend church in Hanover.

The first toll bridge between Hanover and Norwich was an uncovered, single span with an arch twenty feet higher in the center than at the ends, “presenting a sharp ascent on entering and a corresponding downward pitch on leaving.” To cross the bridge, it cost 2 cents for every walker. A horse and rider paid 5 cents and “a cart or other wheeled carriage of burden drawn by one beast” cost 8 cents. But even with the tolls, the profits from the bridge were disappointing. A toll road leading to the bridge had not been completed so traffic was light. A rope ferry, located north of the bridge, just opposite of the present Loveland Road, also captured some of the business. The first bridge across the Connecticut had structural problems and collapsed in 1804.

A second bridge was constructed in 1805. But like its predecessor, this bridge was also uncovered which caused the trusses to rot quickly and it soon needed repairs. Money was put into the bridge, and it lasted until 1839 when a third bridge was constructed. During its lifetime, the owners provided discounts for the citizens of Norwich: free passage across the bridge on Sundays, free passage during the winter and half-rates for the people of Norwich and Hanover.

Inexplicably, in the winter of 1852, the bridge company halted all discounts. Citizens on both sides of the river were irate. “We have been accustomed to draw supplies of ice from the river across the bridge,” explained an editorial in the Dartmouth Advertiser, “…and a large proportion of the wood consumed in the village is drawn from the Vermont side.” In addition, the railway depot was located in Norwich, and the added tolls would be a burden for those picking up passengers and hauling freight.

That winter, the residents of Hanover literally took matters into their own hands. Armed with shovels and pickaxes, “the implements of highway warfare,” a group of men plowed out a new path just south of the toll road that led to the frozen river. From there, they marched across the frozen river and avoided the toll bridge. Other residents broke through the tollgates and traveled freely across the bridge. Concerned letters to the editor from owners of the bridge sought to calm the waters. “We wish for harmony with the people of Norwich and Hanover, and are ready to be very forgetful and forgiving of the past FRACAS.”

Tensions rose and boiled over on the night of August 6, 1854 when the bridge was destroyed by fire. Arson was suspected, but no one was arrested. The owners of the bridge felt the atmosphere was too toxic to build another bridge. So for the next five years two boats ferried goods and people across the river at the same toll rate as the bridge. Traffic also picked up again at the up-river rope ferry.

In 1855, the toll road down to the river in Hanover became a public highway, and talk of a free bridge was back on the table. After many meetings and much discussion, Hanover and Norwich agreed to share the cost of a new bridge. Hanover contributed $8,500, Norwich $2,000, and the College kicked in $833 to cover construction costs and the new span – a covered one this time – opened in the summer of 1859.

The most recent connection between the towns was the first free bridge over the entire Connecticut River, and for many years the only one without a charge. Its completion “seemed to demand some special recognition and on the first day of July, a large and highly respectable audience from both sides of the river gathered in the College church to celebrate it.” During the celebration, the new span was christened the Ledyard Free Bridge in honor of John Ledyard. (Ledyard, as a young man, had been a Dartmouth student in 1773, but he lasted just a year before he departed in grand style to explore the South Pacific with Captain Cook. Ledyard cut down a tree near the site of the new bridge “fashioned his own dugout canoe, and paddled it for a week down the Connecticut River to his grandfather’s farm.”) Dartmouth professor, Dixi Crosby, concluded the main address by pointing out that the problem with tolls was over. “Long may it stand as a monument of patriotic effort, of generous contributions, of liberal concession, and successful compromises. All parties ought to rejoice that controversy is ended, legal rights protected, and the public welfare promoted.”

From the start, the rugged little bridge showed it could handle its busy location. Goods bound for Hanover were generally shipped to the Lewiston station in Norwich and carted across the bridge. In addition, many Dartmouth freshmen were dropped off at the station, and “walked thru the covered bridge and up the hill to view the Hanover plain for the first time, before making the town their home for the next four years.” The bridge survived a flood in 1869, and stood up to the historic flood of 1927. During the log drives in the later part of the 1800s, “..logs used to jam up so badly against the old stone piers that they had to [be] dynamited to effect their release – but the old bridge stood.”

Still, by the 20th century, modern transportation began to take its toll. According to a Dartmouth engineering professor, the Ledyard Bridge in 1913 carried more traffic than any other one of the twenty-nine bridges on the Connecticut between the Massachusetts line and Canada. One citizen had reported seeing “five loaded coal carts, four automobiles, and the heavy three-horse buss full of people on the bridge at the same time.” On another occasion, just as a thunderstorm broke at train time, “a crowd of students, several automobiles, several coal teams, stage and wagon crowded it from end to end.” By 1933, the bridge, designed for the horse and buggy, could no longer stand up to the volume and weight of the modern traffic and had to be replaced.

Once again the two towns, although in the midst of the Great Depression, decided to share the $136,000 cost of a new bridge. The old bridge was closed to traffic forever on November 27, 1934. The end of the free bridge was like the death of a family member to folks on both sides of the water. One journalist called it ‘The Bridge of Sighs.’ Another wrote, “It’s passing marks the end of an epoch. For the 75 years that it graced the river with its presence, it was loved and treasured by all… tired old friend that has served long and well.”

The second Ledyard Bridge – a straight-forward concrete and steel structure – was just as tough as the first. A few months after its completion, it stood up to the last great flood on the Connecticut in March of 1936. According to the Hanover Town Report, “For a time, at the height of the flood, it was the only bridge open to traffic for a distance of four hundred miles along the river.” The bridge held up well and only had to be altered once. In 1949, the level of the bridge had to be raised by three feet because the Wilder Dam, which was being developed, raised the Connecticut River by thirteen feet. But time and traffic took its toll, and by 1988, on a bridge safety rating scale of 1 to 100, public authorities gave Ledyard a zero!

By 1994, plans were proposed for a four-lane bridge by the New Hampshire Transportation commission. But residents balked at the idea of a larger bridge, and concerned citizens from both states organized a protest. The group, called Friends of the Ledyard Bridge, spoke to state officials and “expressed concern that the average speed of vehicles entering Hanover would increase, traffic bottlenecks now on the west end of the bridge will move into the center of Hanover, and the number of trucks passing through town will increase.”

A political battle ensued and Vermont Governor Howard Dean threatened to withdraw Vermont’s support for the project if the plans weren’t modified. A compromise was reached and the bridge was narrowed to two lanes. Along with the political squabbles, the completion of the bridge was delayed by cost overruns and the pullout of the original contractor. The bridge was finally completed in the fall of 1999 at the cost of more than $11.2 million.

Yet even after cars were traveling smoothly between New Hampshire and Vermont over the newest Ledyard Bridge, a final controversy dogged the project. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about the decorative stone balls along the bridge. Even three years after the bridge opened, the Valley News still printed letters of protest or ‘Ball Complaints.’ The concrete spheres were called “shockingly ugly,” “blown out of proportion,” and “grandiose.” One person noted that the “12 giant balls present an 83-ton cacophony of concrete.” A final reaction to the balls arrived in early January of 2006 when, according to the Norwich police department, someone drew smiley faces and sad faces on the balls in black spray paint. The Norwich police chief added, “There was a mad face as well.”

The story of the bridges between Norwich and Hanover is really a shared history between the two towns. The bridges revealed how roads went from private to public ownership, how bridge construction evolved, and how people adapted to trains and then automobiles. But above all else, it displayed the cooperation – although bumpy at times – between the citizens of the two communities in solving the problem of how to get from one shore to the other.

And to think it all came about in 1765 as the Hutchinsons watched their cow struggle to keep its head above water and thought there had to be an easier way across the Connecticut River. n

*Quotes come from the biographical sketch of the Hutchinson family in The History of Norwich, written in 1905 by M.E. Goddard and Henry Partridge. Quoted material came from The Story of a Bridge by W.R. Waterman and the Norwich Historical Society’s files on the Ledyard Bridge.

Everybody needs a friend who can lend a hand in time of need. And if you’re a building – patiently abiding and not seeming to change – it may be hard to find such a pal. Beaver Meadow Chapel, located eponymously at the intersection of Beaver Meadow Road and Chapel Hill Road in West Norwich, found its friend in the nick of time: Donna Wheeler has become the champion of the charming building and has led the drive to raise funds for a highly necessary new roof.

The roof is truly in wretched shape, with shingles missing and eroding away. The building was last roofed in 1999, says Donna, and the company that made the shingles has since been sued for substandard product. Donna and her colleagues are crossing their fingers that the few water spots they can see inside do not mean the sheathing needs replacing as well.

Beaver Meadow is the archetypal ‘normally colder hollow’ which weather forecasters mention when scattered frosts are due. The little settlement near the Norwich/Sharon town line seems unreasonably out-of-the-way, until you remember that early European settlers sometimes stayed away from the big rivers that were thoroughfares for possibly hostile Native Americans. Records tell of houses in Beaver Meadow from the late 18th century, and in 1836 a Methodist Church was built. There were 178 members. After about 50 years, the church fell into disuse, and in 1906 it burned.

In 1915, at the urging of Margaret Kerr, a New York City schoolteacher who had retired to the village, Beaver Meadow residents built the present chapel to serve as a religious and social center. Kerr dreamed up the building project to provide a focus for her neighbors, whom she saw to be “very poor, [with] a good deal of drinking, and rough everywhere.” (Kerr’s 1938 memoir, as quoted in the NRHP application.) With $200 raised largely by local women asking for donations in nearby towns, the men set to work and built the simple-yet-pleasing building in 1915. Eighty years later it gained listing in the National Register of Historic Places (NRHP).

An enterprising minister, Rev. Allen Clark, rector of St. Thomas in Hanover from 1926 to 1931, had to get creative to deliver sermons. The NRHP narrative recounts the story of Clark’s great invention: “After completing the 11am service in Hanover, he drove some seven miles over mostly narrow country roads to the Beaver Meadow Chapel… Clark wrote that during the warm summer months, he often would preach to some twenty-to-thirty worshippers, but that winter’s deep snows and piercing winds often kept members of the congregation from attending Sunday services. While visiting the homes of his Beaver Meadow congregation, Clark says he noticed that each household received a copy of the Sears, Roebuck catalogue. If Sears managed to reach the homes of those who could not travel to one of its retail stores, he reasoned, why not try to reach the homes of his congregation by mail? Clark hit on the idea of a ministry-by-mail that some at first humorously referred to as the ‘Sears, Roebuck Religion.’” The system turned out to be a huge success. Clark prepared ‘Home Prayers’ for the next 50 years, with national distribution growing to over 800 churches.

Use of the chapel has varied over the years. Nowadays, there are gatherings on the third Sunday of each month; some are ecumenical services and some are sing-alongs, which can attract 75 people or so. On October 16, the chapel will host an old-time country gospel sing, “Maybelle Carter-type songs,” says Donna, “from the hills of North Carolina, from little local churches in the ‘hollers.’” This chapel seems a close cousin to such sources.

From January to March, services are generally not held in the chapel, in spite of its impressive woodstove. October features a Halloween party for local children, and the extremely popular two Christmas Eve services close out the year. Advent candles decorate the windows for an extra-long season. “If I take them down too soon, I get complaints,” laughs Donna, so the candles shine from Thanksgiving to late January.

Donna says frankly, “My goal now is to get as much publicity as possible so that more people come.” Already the gatherings are popular. “It’s amazing, the number of people who come here who don’t live here,” she exclaims. “This is such a treasure – unique, I think.”

Fundraising for the roof has been advanced by several major donations. The Vermont Agency of Commerce and Community Development gives grants annually for historic preservation of barns and other buildings, and they contributed $10,000. The Jack and Dorothy Byrne Foundation contributed generously, as did the Mascoma Bank Foundation, and the Norwich Women’s Club. Donna hopes to accumulate a “little cushion” for the roofing project – there’s that worry about the sheathing – since the next project is painting the building.

The chapel lacks running water and thus has no bathroom, but this can be an advantage. “Services are short!” laughs Donna.

I think today it’s easier to have the label lesbian than feminist,” says Claudia McKay Lamperti. She and her partner, Beth Dingman, are now retired from owning and running New Victoria Printers and Publishers. Founded as a print shop in Lebanon in 1975, New Vic embodied the strong feminist political convictions of its founders, and the belief that “the power of the press belongs to those who own it.”

Claudia grew up on the west coast. She met and married John Lamperti in California, and moved to the Upper Valley in 1962 when he came to Dartmouth to teach mathematics. Two of Claudia and John’s four children live in Norwich with their families; the other two live in California.

Beth, on the other hand, grew up in Massachusetts, and went to the University of Chicago. After graduating, she spent two years in the Philippines with the Peace Corps, and seven months traveling back to the US. She then returned to Chicago for a degree in social work. Her two-year stint in California after graduate school was a time of major personal and political change for her. She returned to New England in part because it represented a sense of stability she hadn’t found in California.

Power and the Press

In 1975, Beth and Claudia joined with three other women to found New Victoria Printers, after several of them were fired from another local press for suing for sex discrimination over unequal pay. The name of the business honored England’s Victoria Press, founded in 1860, owned and operated entirely by women.

In the pre-desktop-publishing days of the 1970s, New Vic printers was busy with posters and newsletters, doing a lot of work for Dartmouth and other local businesses. The shop soon became a hangout for women – both straight and lesbian – as the women’s movement of those years awoke a surge of interest and awareness about gender equity. The group soon decided to publish as well as print, and started the non-profit New Victoria Publishers. Their first book was a collection of writing and art by women from northern New England entitled TILT.

In 1985, Beth and Claudia closed the print shop and moved the publishing business into their home in Norwich. They ran New Victoria Publishers with the help of Rebecca Beguin until 2007, when they retired and sold the company. During that time, they published over 100 books, primarily fiction by and about lesbians. They won three Lambda Literary Awards, among other honors. The University of Massachusetts at Amherst has recently acquired their archives and artifacts. The partners are pleased with this recognition of the historical importance of their efforts… and by the large amount of space that has opened up in their garage and living room!

Theory and Reality in Politics

Beth and Claudia tend to take a progressive yet practical view of politics. “The left wants purity,” says Beth, “and if we can’t have it, we take our toys and go home. But governing doesn’t work that way.” The pair insert remarks back and forth in the conversation, as Claudia says, “We’re happy about Hillary [being nominated],” and Beth adds, “Hillary and Bill were in the movement like us back in the seventies, but decided that the left wouldn’t take us where we wanted to go.” They are probably right, Beth admits, that to get things done it is necessary to compromise and cut deals.

Commenting on the Democratic convention and Obama’s list of behaviors “that’s not who we [Americans] are,” Beth says. “I’ve often felt that I’m not ‘who we are.’ I’ve been outside the usual set of American symbols.” In spite of this outsider feeling, she’s never felt oppressed because of her sexual orientation. Perhaps people simply reflect to her what she feels, since, as she says, “I never felt bad about myself, but I wondered, “how am I going to be this way when everyone rejects it?”

In the 1970s and ’80s, the pair were leaders in an effort to form a women’s community and also a lesbian community. New Vic Printers had always been an informal social center for feminists and lesbians, so they were used to welcoming people. A small ad in the Valley News, “Lesbians, meet your sisters” with a contact mailbox, offered gatherings to many who were lonely in the shadows. Events like games, parties, hikes, and beach trips were organized, and proved to fill a deep social need. “The connections we made, and that other women in the Upper Valley made, are still strong, even though people have moved away. People stay in touch,” says Beth.

Nowadays, the couple spends much of their time ‘grandma-ing’ (they have four grandchildren in Norwich) and traveling. They live some of the winter in Arizona. Beth is involved with the sailing club on Lake Mascoma, where she teaches women to sail.

Beth and Claudia continue to watch the world with bemusement. “Sometimes I look at The Bachelorette and think, ‘What happened to feminism that this show even exists,’” says Beth. “Every twenty or thirty years women have to relearn their feminist history. It’s something we’ve thought about – two steps forward and one step back. Progress gets made and then we forget, and there’s always some backlash, which persists. They’ve made feminist a dirty word, the way people say ‘I’m not really a feminist, but…’” Beth and Claudia are ready for the next step forward. They hope it’s a big one!

Oh, Paul and Wendy Manganiello – I’ve never heard anyone say anything bad about either of them,” says Peter Mason, a retired doctor who lives in Lebanon. Though perfectly capable of wisecracks, Peter has no reason to bring out verbal daggers for Paul and Wendy. “They’re two of the nicest people in the whole world.” More to the point, he continues, “They’re both totally committed to social justice. More than any other couple I know, they walk the talk. There’s not a hypocritical bone in his or her… in either of their…” His encomium falls apart over grammar, but his meaning is clear. Paul, a gynecological specialist, was a co-founder with Peter Mason of the Good Neighbor Health Clinic in White River. “I call him the godfather of Good Neighbor,” says Peter. “He’s passionate about the homeless, the uninsured. And Wendy [a surgical nurse] exhibits just the most caring, compassion, and confidence. She has done some wonderful things with patients with devastating illness.”

As Wendy starts to talk about choosing to be a nurse, Paul interjects, “So you could marry a doctor! That’s what your mother wanted.” She laughs and waves his teasing interruption away saying, “Don’t put that in.” More reflectively, she recalls that even in high school she was drawn to nursing because it’s “a service calling.” Her specialty is ostomy care, helping patients with (for example) colitis or Crohn’s disease, or paraplegics. She enjoys both the connections she’s formed with patients she sees regularly and the improved lives she’s helped them experience.

Paul and Wendy both grew up in New Jersey. They met in Philadelphia where she was a nursing student on duty in the ward where he, a medical student at Jefferson Medical College, was recovering from surgery for a leg injury. Though Paul is more apt to leap into the conversation than Wendy, he rejects the notion of being interviewed without her. “I couldn’t have done anything without her,” he maintains, and indeed their lives, through 41 years of marriage, are closely braided.

In the early ’70s, when Paul and Wendy met, the bond between a mouthy Italian Catholic and a restrained, self-described “WASPy Lutheran” was a stretch, says Wendy, smiling at the recollection. “It doesn’t seem so difficult now, but… He pushed me out of my comfort zone. He’s so involved with his work that I’ve become more independent. The hardest thing at the beginning was the religious difference.” “It’s been a growth process for both of us,” concurs Paul.

Wendy and Paul married in 1975, and two years later headed to Georgia for Paul’s fellowship in Reproductive Endocrinology. In 1979, he was recruited to Dartmouth-Hitchcock to develop an infertility program. Before then, people seeking such help went to Boston. “The woman’s age is a major factor in successful conception,” says Paul, “but even with someone under 35, in good health, it can be a year till she conceives.” It didn’t take long for the infertility clinic to become busy, even though much of the treatment was not covered by insurance. It was a time of experimentation and expanding frontiers; the world’s first birth from in vitro fertilization was in July, 1978. “Imagine being the first women to try these techniques,” says Paul – hormone treatments, surgical procedures. “It boggles the mind that women would do so much to have a child. Women are absolutely amazing.”

Parenting two children strengthened the way Paul and Wendy worked as a team. “We’d strategize by phone,” says Wendy, describing how they developed a united front. Paul notes, “It was important for us to keep things in balance: family, job, community. We tried to do [community projects] as much as possible with the kids.” When Paul and Wendy and their first child, Marc, had arrived in the Upper Valley, they felt a bit adrift, not knowing anyone. They found community in Hanover’s Our Savior Lutheran Church (OSLC). “There was a woman in church who made me realize the issue of homelessness in the Upper Valley,” says Paul. Local churches were taking turns opening their doors to those who needed a place to spend the night, with volunteers from the congregations rotating as supervisors. In conversations with general practitioner Peter Mason, Paul grew more aware of the number of uninsured people in the Upper Valley. Working with others in the medical, church, and social service communities, Peter and Paul created the Good Neighbor clinic.

Initially, Good Neighbor provided care in the St. Paul’s parsonage on Tafts Flats in White River. “When Governor Dean came for the ribbon-cutting,” recalls Paul, “he said ‘I’m determined, I have the goal of shutting you down,’ and we said we welcomed that goal.” Twenty-five years later the region – like the nation – is still a long way from closing its charitable clinics.

While he’s happy with the community he has found in the Upper Valley and at OSLC, Paul is dismayed by punitive misreading of the Gospels. “I feel some Christians have hijacked my religion,” he says. “I go to church and I listen and read, and I wonder where did they get those ideas? Religion can be a positive force, but it can also be negative, brutal. Our faith encourages us to give unconditional love to our neighbors. At times that’s hard, but that’s what it means to be a ‘practicing Christian’ – you’re not quite there yet”

Paul is an advocate of reforming health care away from the usual fee-for-service system. He also shares the growing view that informed patients participating in health care decisions would in fact help lower costs, while also feeling greater satisfaction with their treatments. The measure of success should be an improved outcome, not how many tests or treatments were used. “Only 10 or 20 percent of ‘health’ is what the medical community provides,” he declares. “The rest are the social and behavioral determinates individuals bring to the clinical encounter. We can always do better.”