In Eric (Rick) Hasse’s art, you might sense longing, grief, wonder, whimsy. Most assuredly, you will see beauty. Now on exhibit at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center’s Williamson Translational Research Building, 14 digital scans take you on a journey through the world of an artist whose physical movement is limited, but whose mind runs wild.

Hasse, who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease in 1994 at age 35, began creating scans of found objects – from clematis flowers to aluminum foil – when his mind overflowed with “images out of his subconscious,” his wife Jane Sherwin explained.

On the day I saw Hasse at his exhibit, Sherwin did the talking, as he was in the grips of a physically bad day and had difficulty speaking. Hasse occasionally gave the “thumbs-up” sign to signal a positive response when I asked questions.

In school at Dartmouth College, Hasse studied English, finishing his degree in three years. He was drawn to poetry, but ultimately found the art too dense, Sherwin explained. Hasse studied Carl Jung as well. He has been a banker and an entrepreneur, sold real estate, served on the Norwich Fire Department and the town’s finance committee, and enjoyed fly fishing.

At the onset of his Parkinson’s diagnosis, Sherwin said, “he started to think about what was really important.” Creativity had always been part of his family of origin, and Hasse turned to it. “He started not frittering away time on economic pursuits,” Sherwin said. He revisited favorite artists, such as Matisse, Chagall, and Motherwell, for inspiration.

Ordinary household objects and flowers from the couple’s perennial garden at their Norwich home serve as instruments to express Hasse’s thoughts.

“He’s always looking,” Sherwin said. “It could be something as unromantic as a pot or a pen,” she said of what Hasse will place on their home scanner. “I can see Saran wrap and want to put it in the garbage, and he sees it as a treasure.” Using the scanner’s software, Hasse can manipulate the images.

This is called “Libra Ascending: The Assumption of Karol Wojtyła.” Wojtyla is Pope John Paul II. Hasse created it after his deep brain stimulation neurosurgery.

Through his art – printed up to five feet tall and three feet wide as giclée (inkjet print) on canvas – Hasse “breaks stuff out of his subconscious. There’s a great sea of potential and you keep fishing things out,” his wife said.

Some pieces’ titles include the word “caprichos,” such as the “The B-roke Organist – from the Musicians Caprichos,” which features the pipe-like images of an organ. Sherwin described caprichos as “an attribution to another artist. It’s like a conversation with an artist who’s gone before; it’s a way to say, ‘I see what you were doing, this is my response.’”

Music itself plays a role in Hasse’s work, she said.

“A lot of them have a musicality: there’s a compositional structure, a rhythmical repetition, and a dancing form. He’s always had a great appreciation for dance.”

It was 10 years into the onset of Hasse’s diagnosis – around the age of 45 – that the disease had confined him totally. He was completely dependent on Sherwin, unable to feed or dress himself, his hands shaking wildly. In 2005, Hasse underwent deep brain stimulation neurosurgery, which stabilized his shaking and reduced his symptoms considerably.

Hasse has recently been receiving botox injections to help him keep one of his eyes open and begun a probiotic dietary regimen. He regularly sees a neurosurgeon at DHMC, with hopes of reversing his stage-four Parkinson’s.

Sherwin said Hasse was carrying wood in for the fire this past winter, and riding his bike the year before. Speaking has been challenging.

“Without spech, Parkinson’s can be a very lonely vigil,” she explained. “But his art is going off in new locations that he brings back to us.” The “locations” are not just the abstract worlds created in some of his images, but actual landscapes. “Squall Line Under a Flashing Mackerel Sky – from the Point O’Breakers Coda Caprichos,” is so clearly a landscape image – with a brownish-green sea meeting a black and gray horizon. The feeling is unsettled, troubled, foreboding.

“Landscaping can be otherworldly,” Sherwin said. “You can tell what it is, but you’re not quite sure they’re places we’ve ever been.”

In other images, you can just make out the objects Hasse scanned – a flower, a crystal, perhaps fur from Oliver, their cat – collaged with other objects to form an image that makes one pause to understand.

Sherwin pointed out, though, that there is no right or wrong interpretation of the art. The couple has enjoyed observing the reactions of hospital staff and the public as they pass by the canvases.

“He really likes to see what people think,” Sherwin said. “It’s not like he’s trying to teach you something. It’s his creativity, but it’s yours, too.”

The current exhibit was made possible in part by a grant from the Jack and Dorothy Byrne Foundation – which helped cover the cost of mounting 14 new panels – and through a stroke of luck, when Marianne Barthel found a couple of Hasse’s art pieces in storage at DHMC. Barthel, the hospital’s art director, felt the images deserved exhibition, Sherwin explained, and hung them. Around the same time, Hasse and Sherwin called the hospital seeking the art they knew was in storage. “We were going to collect them, and she had them hanging,” Sherwin said. “Rick picked out new images to print” for the exhibit. In addition to the exhibition, about 25 more of Hasse’s images are on exhibit as a slideshow in the library, the images changing every five to seven minutes.

To see more of Hasse’s work and learn more about the artist, go to www.newmedia.gallery.

Rill Exhibit in the David Goudy Science Park

The Montshire Museum of Science has been encouraging children to experiment and play hands-on with interactive exhibits since the mid-1970s. While the museum has flourished – currently seeing well over 100,000 visitors each year – the administration has made sure access to the museum is affordable for all families.

In January 2014, the Warm Welcome program was launched. With an EBT card, a Medicaid card, or a letter from a school, children and families can qualify for reduced admission. A family museum membership for four people is $100, but with Warm Welcome, qualifying families can receive membership for $15. Daily admission rates for those participating in Warm Welcome are reduced to $2 per person – normally $14-$16 for adults and $11-$13 for children.

The museum started Warm Welcome to reach a “broad cross-section” of the community, said Jennifer Rickards, the Montshire’s Associate Director and Director of Development and Visitor Services. “For many years, we distributed free admission passes to dozens of human service agencies, and we still do, but we knew that we were missing a large population of people who were not receiving social services but still couldn’t afford a Montshire visit,” explained Rickards.

Museum staff met with with local nonprofits, families, other museums, and state agencies to figure out the best way to offer access to all people, regardless of their financial status. “We have established eligibility criteria that enable us to serve families whose household income is up to 200% of the federal poverty limit,” Rickards said. “People show an EBT card, a Medicaid card with an adult’s name on it, or a letter from a school saying that the family qualifies for the free or reduced-price school meals program.”

In addition to reduced admission and membership, Warm Welcome provides scholarships to children for the museum’s summer camp, a reduced wintertime admission for underfunded schools, free passes through approximately 110 Vermont and New Hampshire state agencies, and free use of meeting rooms for non-profits.

To support Warm Welcome, the Montshire receives funding from a number of sources, including donor-level memberships, gifts and grants, the Montshire Access Fund (a fund within the museum’s endowment), auction donations, the Keller Family Fund for Special Needs, and the Jack and Dorothy Byrne Foundation.

Rickards said that in 2015, 13 percent of about 160,000 visitors used reduced admission and currently 25 percent of members have joined through Warm Welcome. “It’s clear that we’re responding to a need in our community,” she said.

Rickards shared a comment from a family participating in the Warm Welcome program:

“Being able to visit truly made us feel a part of a culture we have wanted to participate in, but have been largely excluded from, as the result of our socioeconomic status. We thank you for opening the opportunity to share, learn, and play with our family without feeling singled out as the ‘poor people’.”

Another family, Rickards shared, said they appreciated the “discreet” and “respectful” nature of the Warm Welcome program.

“Our primary goal is to make the world a better place by encouraging people to be intellectually curious, to ask good questions, and to explore the world around us,” she said.

“We do that through engagement in hands-on science learning. Children’s brains are physically shaped by experiences in their 0-3 years, and people of all ages benefit from lifelong learning.”

Kate Levy in fashion show in Rwanda

Several Norwich students have had the experience to travel abroad and spend some time in schools in other parts of the world. We have the pleasure and honor to hear some of their experiences below. Mack and Kate Levy were in Rwanda for ten weeks with their family and were able to attend a local school there. Chiara Rothwell-Ferraris participated in the Rotary International Youth Exchange program which gives high school students the opportunity to live and study abroad for 9-12 months. She chose Indonesia. Chiara stayed with a host family while going to school, living, and learning the culture of Bandung, the third largest city of Indonesia. Mae Butler spent 7 weeks leading a community development project in Vaquilla, Coclé, Panama to teach sustainability in a rural community.

Going to school in Rwanda

Mack and Kate Levy

Day Before School Starts:

Kate said it best last night: “I’m looking forward to tomorrow so we can stop making assumptions about school and get on to the real thing!”

Mack Levy surrounded by new friends at school in Rwanda

School began with a 2-hour entrance examination and grading period with an official acceptance upon reviewing the results. An hour in a room picking through end-of-year inventory for the closest sizes in school uniforms (one formal one, two gym-style ones that are worn most of the time) and the right classroom supplies. And then the selection of two after-school clubs – both of us chose football (soccer) and traditional Rwandan dance. Mack said “this is the only place in the world we can learn this!”

As we walked to Green Hills School on the first day, we practiced saying “Mwaramutse” (good morning) to everyone we passed. The return greeting is “Neza” which means “to you too.” When we arrived, both of us shook hands with our teachers and within seconds, our new classmates were showing us to our desks and asking us to point out Vermont on the world map.

At the end of the first day, Mack reported that everyone was very nice and had already made many friends, including someone who asked him to go to his birthday party. One girl who sat next to Mack helped him in Kinyarwanda and explained to him the traits of teachers and students. In return, Mack helped her with math. At recess they played soccer and tag. The kids here are really good at soccer, but not as much at tag. The style of teaching here is copying the teacher’s writing from the board into our book.

Kate was excited at the end of the first day as well. “I am with Teacher Beatrice in 4A. You never call anyone by Mrs, Ms, Miss or Mr, you always call them Teacher and then their first name. I made lots of friends! One of the girls, named Diella, invited me to her birthday party. School starts at 7:30 every day and ends at 3:30 most days, except for Wednesday when it ends at 12:45. I have a different teacher for each subject but I don’t go to their classroom, they come to mine. Except for PE. We either go to the giant gym or we go to an outdoor basketball court.”

Unique Experiences

A few weeks later, Mack and Kate were fully immersed in school life at Green Hills. Kate took part in a school-sanctioned “fashion show” where everyone dressed up traditionally from their home country or really any country they wanted to represent in a traditional outfit. Teacher Beatrice wanted Kate to dress up as an American. Kate said, “I didn’t realize that Teacher Beatrice and the other students think American style is basically Texan, so they wanted me to dress up like a cowgirl. I agreed and Teacher Beatrice wanted me to wear cowboy boots and hat and say “yeehaw,” but since no one in Vermont says that, I didn’t have to. All of the African countries had beautiful traditional dresses, which made my jeans and plaid shirt look casual, but when I came out, everyone cheered loudly! Other countries represented in the show were Rwanda, South Africa, and South Sudan.”

Mack was amazed by the community spirit in his afterschool sports. He reported, “Mondays I do basketball after school. There are only 1 or 2 balls for 30-40 kids between fifth and sixth grade who are all out on the court at one time. At one end of the court there’s usually a game, and at the other end it’s shooting around. Everyone passes to each other no matter what grade you’re in. It’s so fun to be out there with so many people and playing all together.”

We asked Kate and Mack about what they have studied in Rwanda that they wish they could do at Marion Cross. Mack replied, “study more international topics. Our grade has done a unit on the United Nations. We also studied the Rwandan Genocide. I think studying more non-USA topics would be good at MCS.”

And when asked about what they are looking forward to upon their return to Marion Cross – “EVERYTHING!” Our friends, our teachers, having teachers with a growth mindset that are there to help you, Rep, recess, eating in our classroom instead of a cafeteria, not standing out so much and having everyone come up to us all the time.”

Community Development in Panama

Mae Butler

People of Vaquilla, Panama

Last summer, I spent 7 weeks leading a community development project in Vaquilla, Coclé, Panama. Vaquilla is a town of less than a thousand people. It sits on a hill between four mountains, about an hour and a half from the nearest city. It sings in color: green forests, blue skies, red dirt, and black rain. If, by chance, you were to brave the turbulent bus ride from Vaquilla to Penonomé (provincial capital of Coclé), you would find a striking but dirty, industrial city.

Vaquilla makes Norwich look like Manhattan. The largest building is a single-storied school, followed closely by the church. Monday through Friday the students trek into the town along the single dirt road, running through one end of town and out the other. Those that have visited Penonomé know where it comes from, but few know where it leads. They flow from homes perched high in bordering mountains. On Sunday, the Vaquieños flock in, the bulk of them arriving to church around 8:30. I think, if you asked, they would tell you that the service starts at 8:00, but time in Latin American works differently, and no one seems to mind. There is no rush, after all.

I was posted in Vaquilla by a program called Amigos de las Americas. My Texan partner Ella and I were sent there to facilitate a community-based-initiative-project (CBIP) and teach sustainability in workshops 5 days a week.

Mae Butler, surrounded by new family and friends in Panama

I know: volunteerism. I can’t count the number of articles I’ve read in the last year exposing its alleged terrors. Most of them paint a narrative of privileged kids taking expensive trips to deliver supplies that last for a month, maybe two, to impoverished “villages” across the globe. It’s called need-based aid. I’m not saying it isn’t a valuable experience for the participants, but materials and funds themselves don’t create lasting change for the recipients. So it’s true: A lot of “aid,” especially in the developing world, is superficial. When I tell people that I spent last summer leading a development project in rural Panama, I get the sense that they assume the worst, but that’s okay. Unfortunately, the number of failures in global aid calls attention away from the successes.

For the record, Amigos works differently. Amigos’ goal is community development, which is resource-based aid. Instead of providing short-lived relief from an issue, resource-based aid depends on sustainable infrastructure and civic empowerment.

In my case, it was up to the Vaquieños to choose their own project. It took two weeks of town meetings and door-to-door introductions for Vaquieños to brainstorm, debate, and decide upon an organic greenhouse. I’d love to say the rest of the summer was smooth-sailing, but that would be a lie. There was a lot of social tension in Vaquilla, and it was a challenge to draw the community together. No matter whom Ella and I invited into the project, someone felt excluded. There were concerns of embezzlement of project funds, and material-donors backed out more than once. I spent a lot of time mediating angry adults, and that doesn’t even account for the gender-confusion the Panamanian men experienced when I picked up a shovel. But, the Vaquieños were extraordinary people.

While change isn’t at the forefront of Latin American culture, acceptance is. With the help of the teachers from the school, we created a work schedule, and by the time I left in August, the project was well underway.

In October, my host mom sent me a photo of the finished greenhouse. There it was: Roderick Robles, a close friend, knelt beside a culantro plant. The caption wrote, cosechamos (we’re harvesting). His smile actually beamed in the picture, but it was nothing compared to mine.

The day I left Vaquilla, I didn’t know what I would miss. I mounted the bus that promised to bring me to Penonomé. Sr. Milton – the agriculture teacher, who was invested in the greenhouse for its academic merits – stopped me. He told me that he was proud – of me, of his students, of the community, and of the change we made together. He thanked me for learning to love people rich “not in money, but in affection.” He caught me off guard, but I corrected him.

The people of Vaquilla had opened their homes, faiths and families to me. At first, I didn’t fit into the space they created for me. I didn’t know how to explain myself to them – my atheist beliefs, divorced parents, or college ambitions. But with time, I learned how to be a part of a community unlike anything I had ever known. They helped me realize my own responsibilities as a global citizen, and showed me my place in our tiny globe.

I looked back to Sr. Milton, and told him how I felt. The Vaquieños owed me nothing. Six thousand miles away from my house, they had made me a home.

First Day of School in Indonesia

Chiara Rothwell-Ferraris

School in Bandung, Indonesia

I had already been awake for hours anticipating my first day of school when the alarm clock finally went off at five o’clock in the morning. I could already sense the dry heat of the day through my window and the lush palm fronds beckoned me in the morning breeze. The low chants of the prayers were calling all to worship their god, a sound so unfamiliar to me. I sat up onto the edge of my bed and stayed there for a minute wondering what lay before me on this day. My maid had laid out a crisply ironed blue uniform with my name sewn in above the breast pocket the night before.

After taking a quick shower and trying to wash away all my nervous thoughts, I secured my long skirt with the belt buckle that showed the name of my new school. After one look in the mirror and with a deep breath I opened my door to the stairs.

I went down to find freshly sliced fruits waiting for me on the table – dark purple dragonfruit, and bright orange mango.

Before sending me out the door, Ibu Heksa, my host mother, buttoned up the top button of my shirt and said, “Don’t be nervous, Chiara. Everybody will love you.” Pak Ucup, my driver, was outside smoking his cigarette, waiting to bring his new foreigner friend to school. “Cantik (beautiful),” he said when he saw me in my new uniform.

Chiara made new friends along the way

I encountered a dream I wasn’t part of on the way to school. There were motorcycles, smoke, and people everywhere. I sat in the back of the car and looked out at all the people buzzing around on their various modes of transportation.

Families of three rode on motorcycles, cutting in front of one another, weaving in and out, with many close calls. Among the smoke and heat, thousands of people made their way to work and school. I remember being so nervous – my eyes welling with tears – and missing the familiar feeling of home. I didn’t want to leave the comfort of my driver and that car when we got to the parking lot of the school but I knew it was time to face my fear of the unknown.

Little did I know I was about to meet the people who would become my best friends and family for my time in Indonesia.

Neuman family selfie in Karlovy Vary, CZ, Mar 2015

Amy Neuman’s home phone number has an 802 area code and a 649 prefix, but it rings in the city of Prague in the Czech Republic. Amy and her husband, Scott Neuman, along with their three children, moved to Prague from Norwich in February of 2013 when Scott was transferred by IBM. The Neumans had never really considered the idea of moving their family so far away, but the opportunity came up and they took the leap.

Thoughtful and introspective, Amy is the co-founder and former Executive Director of the Norwich non-profit InspiringKids whose mission is:

To educate and empower every student to become philanthropists by donating their collective time, treasure and talent to make a difference in their communities while engaging in activities that support the learning objectives and priorities of educators.

By connecting with and improving their communities, kids recognize the impact of their actions, take responsibility for improving their world, and proactively effect change over their lifetime.

The Neumans, both 45, have known each other since they were 8 years old and attended the same elementary school outside of New York City. They became sweethearts during their senior year of high school. Both went on to Cornell University, and then, at 23, 18 months after graduation, were married.

Their children – Annie, now 17, Henry 15, Emma 12 – acclimated to living in a foreign city quickly. They attend a pre-K through 12th grade international school where their schoolmates hail from 60 different countries. The school has a rule that they don’t accept any more than 20% of their student body of any one nationality.

“Many of the families at their school are career expats; they are Ukrainian, Korean, Russian, Australian… they come from virtually everywhere. It’s a relatively small school,”Amy explains, which made the transition easier. “Coming from a place the size of Marion Cross worked well.”

Emma Neuman and Greta Holland by the Lennon wall

As intrepid as the family has become, Amy doesn’t pretend it was easy at first. “Prague can be gray and bleak, depressing,” she admits. “I think that there were a total of 10 hours of sunlight for the first six weeks we were living here. Plus, lots of people smoke. That has taken some getting used to!”

“When we first got to our apartment, the kids and I got locked in the elevator and an alarm went off,” she continues. “Scott had to travel for work the day after we landed and our stuff from the States would not be delivered for weeks. The morning after we arrived we had to register with the police (required of all new residents). From the police station, Scott left for Bratislava and we took a cab back to the apartment. I can remember thinking, ‘What have we done?’ Our flat was essentially empty, our phones and internet were not set up and Scott was gone with no way to communicate with us. Thankfully we found the pizza place not too far away and ate there every day that first week. So at least nobody went hungry!”

They’ve also made friends who have helped. “Our experience with the Czech people has been very good. There is a cab driver named Tomas,” Amy says, who will come pick them up anytime they call. “He loves practicing his English.”

And then there is Renata Brenisinova, the woman who tutors Amy and one of her daughters in Czech. She, too, has become a friend. “The language is so hard,” Amy confesses. “Annie and I take lessons, so it’s better than it was. That said, it still feels like gymnastics in my mouth. A few years back, while standing in the airport in Venice, Annie was looking at all of the signs in Italian and said, ‘So this is where all of the vowels from the Czech Republic ended up.’ Luckily people in Prague for the most part speak some English.”

The language isn’t the only thing that is challenging about being in Prague. Some of those challenges are the things you would run up against living in any city. For example, the Neumans don’t have a car, which means they have to walk everywhere, or take a cab or tram.

Emma painting in the apartment

“In the Upper Valley, you know you can jump in your giant car – you know, the one that fits all the kids and their stuff and has dents all over it – and go to the Co-op and load up on what you need for a week. Here we only buy what we can carry. Grocery stores are a 10- to-30-minute walk or tram ride away. We go to a local butcher shop and I try to speak Czech. They laugh at me because I am butchering their language. But we can usually make ourselves understood.”

Then there are trips to the orthodontist or the hospital for the occasional injury. “The hospital complex is so different from the beautiful city center. They are cement block, soviet-era buildings where everything is tiled in an institutional mint green and the lighting is not terrific – the kinds of places that make DHMC with its big windows and airy spaces and art on the walls and live piano music seem like a dream.

“Plus,” she continues, “the medical personnel typically don’t speak English and their whole approach to medicine, never mind a bedside manner, is quite different.” She tells the tale of Emma’s injury during a Thanksgiving Day basketball practice at school. “It wasn’t broken. But the school nurse said, ‘Get an x-ray.’ We were given papers that we couldn’t understand, sent down long corridors and to various offices to pick up more papers we couldn’t read. Finally, we get to the exam room and the doctor grabs Emma’s leg with no warning and pushes super hard until she yells. Then he gives us a piece of paper and sends us down another hallway.”

Despite the off-hand way she describes the trips to various doctors, Amy is anything but cavalier about what her kids are experiencing abroad. You can tell after talking with her for just a few minutes that she is as centered as she is funny and game.

“At home [in Norwich] the kids had things almost every weekend. We would always be driving someone somewhere, to a practice or a game. Here the kids have practice 3 times a week, but none on weekends. We live a solid half-hour away from their school, so there isn’t a lot of going back and forth. When they’re home, they are home.

“We didn’t really anticipate that we would have all this togetherness, but it has been really, really fun. The kids have been somewhat of a captive audience. We play lots of games in the evenings – once a week at least. This is one of my favorite things.”

“The best thing about being here,” Amy continues, “is that I feel I have been given this gift of time with the kids. If we were at home in Norwich, Annie would be driving now. She’d be off on her own. That’s just the natural order of things. Here I’ve gotten to spend a lot of time with her. I feel like that’s something that might not have happened had we been home.”

It’s been educational too, and, true to the tenets of InspiringKids, the Neumans have made sure their children have had a well-rounded experience.

“We volunteer at a soup kitchen at the St. Thomas church every Saturday morning. All of us get up and take the tram together across the river. We have been doing that for 3 years now and we’ve gotten to know the people pretty well.

“The kids will have conversations with the regulars every week – they are comfortable with us and love to talk. We’ve gotten to know their stories and struggles. We’ve become friendly with a refugee from Pakistan who landed here in Prague a year or so ago and now volunteers at the soup kitchen as well.

“Then there is Roma, a homeless gentleman who has a palsy and uses crutches. This man’s English is very good and Annie, Henry and Emma will sit down on the bench with him and just talk. He’ll make suggestions to the kids about things they should see and he’ll tell them how to get there. He’ll follow up the next weekend to find out if we’ve gone.”

“Our experiences at St. Thomas definitely expose us to the incredible struggles that many people experience everyday. Living here has also made us more aware of the incredible sacrifices that people have made throughout history,” Amy reflects. Indeed, history is in evidence all around them.

“A good example is the Saints Cyril and Methodius Cathedral, just six blocks from our apartment. We kind of stumbled across it about six months. We learned about these Czech and Slovak paratroopers who, in 1942, sacrificed everything to defeat the Nazis. They had assassinated Reinhard Heydrich, one of the head Nazi generals, and fled there to hide. The Nazis came after them. Rather than be captured, these guys committed suicide. You can still see where they hid and there are still bullet holes in the outside walls. My kids could see with their own eyes what it must have been like, what real sacrifice is all about.

Sorting sea glass in Croatia

“We also went to Mauthausen-Gusen concentration camp right outside Linz, in Austria, where the families of those Czech and Slovak soldiers,” along with some 13,000 others, “were sent as reprisal. Seeing one place and then the other, and knowing about the connection, made WWII history so real for all of us.”

Traveling is one of the things the Neumans do a lot of. They’ve been to the beach in Croatia where the locals couldn’t understand the concept of collecting sea glass. “There’s so much of it there because no one picks it up. They said to us, ‘Why are you cleaning our beaches?’”

“We have a big map in on the wall in the kitchen with colored pins showing the places we’ve been. Everybody gets a color. Red is for the places where the whole family goes. White is my color,” Amy says with what sounds like chagrin. “I have the fewest pins because we travel so much as a family.”

But the Neuman kids have been all over the place on their own too, on school junkets. Because of the way the Central and Eastern European Schools Association (CEESA) is set up, they compete in sporting events, have choir concerts and other activities in places like Moscow, Budapest, and Bucharest. They will go for a 4 or 5-day tournament at one of the member schools. Annie was recently in Moscow playing softball.

“It’s less competitive here overall than it is in Vermont. Emma came home from a trip one day and said, ‘Mom! I have three new friends from Warsaw!’ It’s more social, more about meeting people and making friends. In fact, the most coveted award is the sportsmanship award – a very different emphasis,” she adds appreciatively.

While they don’t let news of terrorist attacks stop their activities, Amy and Scott do factor them into some of the decisions they make about traveling.

“We went to London for Easter, two weeks after the bombing in Brussels. I tried to work things out so we were above ground as we traveled around the city,” she admits.

“There is also a lot of chatter here about the refugee crisis. Many Czechs are skeptical about taking in any refugees. There have been anti-refugee rallies in Wenceslas Square, which is five blocks from our apartment.”

And they’ve hosted a lot of travelers, too. Friends, friends of friends, and family members have taken turns staying in their guest room. “We’ve loved that,” Amy says.

In the end though, Norwich is still HOME. All of the Neumans are attached to it and committed to coming back. Before they went away, Scott was one of those guys you see in the winter doggedly maintaining the ice rink in front of Marion Cross.

“We have magnets from everywhere we’ve traveled to stuck on the hood above our stove here. Right in the middle is one from Vermont with a covered bridge on it.

“That’s our place. That’s what the kids refer to anytime they are talking about ‘home.’”

And they do get back regularly. They’ve kept their house in Norwich. It, along with their two dogs and a cat, are looked after by a friend who is staying there for the duration. Plus, Amy’s parents live in Hanover. The Neumans come home each year for Christmas and for a time during the summer, although the Neuman kids are all off on various excursions for part of this summer.

Aside from occasionally consulting at her children’s school, Amy has not been working and spends less time rushing around than she did at home in Norwich. “I’ve had the opportunity to be in my own kitchen. I read more and rest more, spend more time with my kids. And I spend a lot of time learning about this incredible place.

“Living in Norwich is like living in a fairytale. When I describe life in the Upper Valley to my friends here in Prague, it sounds ridiculous. From the Gingerbread Festival, Halloween at the Norwich Inn, Dan and Whit’s, all of the resident Olympians and even the ‘broccoli heist’ at Killdeer Farm a few years back. It is all so unreal. Living in Prague is like living in a historical fiction novel. There is a heaviness to the city – so much history and culture, so much ornate architecture and a kind of anonymity – all of which I have come to love. I am so grateful that our family landed in Norwich almost twelve years ago, and I am grateful that we have also had this incredible adventure abroad.”

She says again, “I feel like I have stolen time.”

If you need evidence that community spirit is alive and well here in Norwich, check out the Lyman F. Pell American Legion Post 8 on Beaver Meadow Road. Last November, courtesy of countless local volunteers and notably, Home Depot, the building got some badly needed major renovations.

Sawdust Has Settled

Now that the sawdust has settled, it seems like a different building. Prior to the work, inside walls were painted cement blocks without insulation. Lighting was dim and wiring was not up to code. The porch wobbled. The front door was on its last legs. Old bathrooms were not handicapped accessible. The old kitchen had a tiny sink. Unpaved walkways could be treacherous, especially in winter. You get the idea.

All this had been a thorn in the side of Legion members for a long time. Work would be done piecemeal, but it was clear that a major effort was needed. But how?

Then one day in the fall of 2014, Bob and Betty Armstrong, with the blessing of past commander Jim Harlow, went up to a worker at Home Depot in West Lebanon, N.H., and asked if perhaps the store could help with some small projects. They got talking, and over the next few months, ideas percolated and grew. Home Depot’s Rick Thibodeau worked closely with Bob and Betty as the project expanded, and there were several weeks of planning, site preparation and staging of materials.

Then it was D-Day. Truth be told, it did look like an invasion. For two long days, legions of workers (nobody got an accurate count because the number changed all the time) attacked the job.

Home Depot made this a district project, and sent about 60 workers from ten stores, all volunteering without extra pay. They brought the necessary tools with them and the retailer even gave the Legion a $9,500 grant for supplies.

Legion members and others in the community worked side-by-side with the Home Depot Team and several local contractors who donated time and materials. Tom Slater, a Legionnaire and area carpenter, was the team leader for the interior renovations and did much of the finish work.

Both Tom and Lyle also spent a good deal of time completing the “punch list” items which always need to be accomplished to bring a project to a successful conclusion. The two-day transformation was amazing. “The look and feel is so much more hospitable to all who enter the building,” says Legion member Richard Neugass. “People who come to the Thursday night cribbage games talk about how much brighter it is, and how the main meeting room seems bigger.” Neugass singles out Post Commander Lyle Favreau for “putting a ton of effort and physical labor into the project,” and Lyle gives complete credit to Bob and Betty Armstrong for overseeing the renovations.

Open to the Community

The renovations allow the Legion to open up the building more often to the public for personal and community events. They are asking for only a small donation to cover expenses. Kitchen upgrades include new appliances, new sink, and larger counter space to allow easier preparation and delivery of food.

A new storage shed frees up space inside the building, which was cramped with supplies and materials that were necessary but used only sporadically. A grant from Dr. Peter Batson, a Legion member who died in 2014, funded the shed project, which was supervised by Commander Lyle.

Remember all the problems with the building we listed above? All fixed. New front door, repaired porch, walkway with pavers  –  the whole nine yards. (You can ask most any Legion member about the origin of that expression.) Says one observer, “It was so beautiful seeing everyone pulling together on this. There can be a lot of infighting in Norwich sometimes, but one thing is clear  –  we can still work together.”

For me, the Green is just irreplaceable,” says longtime Norwich Recreation director Jill Kearney Niles. There is heartfelt emphasis in her voice as she lists a few of the activities she organizes on the Green: practice for multiple sports, including soccer, cross-country running, biking basics, and lacrosse (starting in kindergarten). “After-school programs are so popular because they’re so convenient, like parent-pitch softball,” she continues. Organized sports programs are just a fraction of what happens on the Green, Norwich’s inviting, open center, artfully framed by civic, educational, and spiritual focal points.

The Rec. department also sponsors Touch-A-Truck day, producing deliriously happy kids of many ages by offering work vehicles like the Town’s dump truck, loader, backhoe, police cruiser, and fire truck for examination and tactile exploration.

The school owns most – the fraction varies with who’s talking – of the Green; the corner with the water fountain (donated by the Women’s Christian Temperance Union) and the bandstand belongs to the town. One group that focuses on water, though not from the fountain, is the Hosers, the dedicated volunteers who struggle to keep the ice rink in good shape. Weather may not cooperate, but the Hosers don’t give up. When there is ice, it gets used long past dark. Seize the moment!

One of the biggest events on the Green, of course, is the Norwich Fair, now organized by the Lions Club. For many years the Fair was a project of the churches of the town, but when Marion Cross School expanded, the construction spread out on the Green. The Fair moved to land on Route 5 which eventually became Dresden school playing fields. At that point, roughly 10 years ago, the Fair returned to the Green. Ed and Joyce Childs, hardworking Lions, have been stalwart Fair organizers for years. “I like having it back on the Green,” says Ed. “The event became more family-focused when it moved back to the Green.”

Evolution has happened. In the old days on the Green the major rides were a Ferris wheel and the swings. A parade was a big feature of Saturday morning, with floats, decorated bicycles, and yokes of oxen (ready for the ox-pull later in the day). In the Rt. 5 years, there was no parade, and energy for parade participation has generally not resurfaced. Faster rides such as the Tilt-a-Whirl took over from the Ferris wheel. The popular Dunk Tank appeared, where generous-hearted town celebrities offer their dignity for the Lions fundraiser.

The Fair is about 65 years old. “I don’t think we’ve had any disasters,” says Ed, aside from rain. “But people who live in Norwich – if they can’t go today because of rain, they’ll go tomorrow.” Joyce recalls working in the bank Friday afternoon as final setup proceeded, and having people come in saying “You’ve got to do something!” This was back when the churches still ran the Fair, and the name had gone up on the funhouse: Satan’s Curse. “I couldn’t leave because we were really busy,” she remembers, but the sign was removed. Still, when Saturday brought torrents of rain, people wondered…

The Norwich Women’s Club sponsors summer concerts in the bandstand. People bring blankets or folding chairs, and maybe picnics, as they gather to hear local and regional musicians. The style of the music varies, but the entertainment from people-watching and catching up with neighbors are reliable constants.

A subtle feature of the Green is the collection of trees that surround it. Ever notice? They’re all different. In the late ’60s conservationist “Bill Ballard wanted to create an arboretum of trees that would survive this kind of weather,” says Bill Hammond. There were plaques on the fence identifying the varieties, but then the fence was replaced. Now the third grade is working to identify the trees. They have a list of what was originally planted, some of which have been cut down. A real world challenge.

Spring events on the Green include MCS’s Mayfest, in which all the students participate in traditional songs and dances. The whole community is welcome, says Hammond. A more elaborate seasonal festival is the summer solstice celebration put on by Revels North in June. Retiring Production Manager Bonna Wieler lists just a few of the features of the event: Morris dancing, singing of multiple sorts, mummers, crafts, and food. “It’s grown out of community celebration,” she says. After all the hard work to produce the event, “the rewards are everything from the look on a kid’s face, and the joy you see on the Green when people celebrate together. Community is built among people who sing together, and there’s the joy of carrying forward beautiful traditions honoring the earth. The community strengthens when it celebrates together.”

It’s hard to keep your eyes on your hosts when you visit Greg and Toni Prince’s house in Union Village, because intriguing objects and vistas draw your attention here, there, and everywhere. Inviting doorways with glimpses of trees and pastures, a gaggle of toy horses gathered in consultation on a shelf, and an antique sled perched in the corner pull your gaze and attention.

Wood paneling and antique beams warm a high-ceilinged sitting room, part of the Princes’ addition to their 1881 farmhouse. In spite of crisp winter temperatures outside, the space is as cozy and inviting as its owners. While more collections of antiques offer themselves for attention, the eye of a romantic is drawn to a needlework pillow that proclaims “Happiness is being married to your best friend.” Greg and Toni exemplify that happiness.

In their very different ways, Toni and Greg are educational leaders, Greg devoting himself to changing institutions and Toni providing a life-changing experience to children who come to her to learn to ride. Their skills feed and expand on each other. “It began with her,” says Greg, in very real – including chronological and financial – ways. “I was a sailor,” says Greg, “but I married horses.” And they put him through graduate school.

Greg and Toni met at a cocktail party in Washington DC, though neither of them were drinkers. They conversed, but Greg had an appointment elsewhere. “I have to go,” he told her, “but I have a strange question.” He invited her to be his date for a ski week in Vermont that he and a fellow Yale senior were planning. The trip had been an annual event, but for the first three years neither man had managed to find a date for the ski week; now Greg’s classmate had lined up a date, so the pressure was on! A week later Toni responded by telegram, “Twenty-one years of sense and sensibility lead me to accept your invitation.”

After graduation, Greg landed Yale’s fellowship to teach English in China for two years. “The assumption was that since you spoke English, you were qualified to teach it,” he says. Eight weeks of comparative linguistics training provided some information about possible problems from different language structures, and then he was pretty much dropped in at the deep end. “Hong Kong introduced me not just to teaching but to the importance of building institutions as a way to affect long-term change.”

Greg’s first job after China was as history teacher and Director of Guidance and College Placement at Woodberry Forest, an elite Southern prep school in Virginia. Many private academies were being founded in an effort to avoid desegregation; some at Woodberry wanted to desegregate in hope of setting a tide-turning example. Hired to help this cause, Greg occasionally roiled the waters by defending marches in Mississipppi or Freedom Rides when those actions were being condemned by others in the school. In spite of efforts by the headmaster, Greg, and others, the board did not develop sufficient backing for desegregation. The school, as an institution, missed a great chance to be a national leader. Greg was censured twice a year by the board in his three years and told, “If you were a gentleman, you would retire.”

Greg also resisted the idea of tracked classes, and told his “Basic” class they would take the AP test. When the “Basic” students protested, he told them, “You can complain, but I’m not going to bend, and I want to tell you: No matter how peeved you are, it’s nothing to what the AP class’s reaction will be when they find out I’m letting you take the exam.”  At the end of the year, every student had a 3 (out of 5) or better, and the average score of the Basic class was only one-tenth point less than the honors class.

Those “Basic” students rose to meet Greg’s expectations, a pattern many passionate teachers have seen. “I experience it every day,” says Toni of her students, who come for riding lessons but leave with much more. “The kids are like little sponges. They watch the more experienced ones. They’re generous, kind, thoughtful, focused. They want to succeed.”

Greg came to teaching as an adult, but Toni was a trainer of ponies and riders by the time she was ten. “I was a very solitary child,” she says. “Working with horses was the one thing I was very good at. I wanted to be their friend, not their master, not to make them my slave. I was more interested in why they behaved a certain way.

“She was an early horse-whisperer,” Greg chimes in. To Toni, the seemingly mystic connection some call horse-whispering is a matter of paying attention with mind and spirit. Her technique works well with children as with horses, and it’s not magic, she says. “I would [teach horse-whispering] in a heartbeat if I were starting now.”

Arriving in the Upper Valley

As Dartmouth College prepared for coeducation, President Kemeny hired Greg to direct summer programs. The idea was to create a summer term of serious stature, since adding a fourth term would instantly make room for women students. “I was told to make money,” says Greg. “I was hired to be an entrepreneur.” The couple moved to Norwich and found their Union Village farm, which has been Toni’s base ever since.

“One of my proudest achievements at Dartmouth,” recalls Greg, “was some of the faculty I hired for the summer who came from places no one normally ever would have looked. When they came, they were seen to be so outstanding everyone wanted them to stay.” Michael Dorris, from Franconia College, who helped found Dartmouth’s nationally recognized Native American Studies program, was one of these. So was Bill Cook, an African American, who eventually became chair of the English department. When Greg hired Bill Cook, he simply said Bill was from Princeton, and no one ever questioned the decision. When Cook, who’d been teaching at Princeton High School, later heard that story from Greg, he exclaimed, “That explains why some of my colleagues came up to me at graduation and pointed out ‘This one’s from Harvard, that one’s from Yale.’ I couldn’t figure out why they thought I cared.”

After almost 20 years at Dartmouth, Greg became president of Hampshire College. “I was an improbable choice – white, male, Ivy-League,” he says. Student protest was a way of life at Hampshire; Greg helped them understand their actions. When NYPD chief Lee Brown came to speak, a protest was planned but didn’t materialize. Afterwards Greg called the organizers into his office to see what had happened. “We didn’t know he was black,” they explained. Greg hoped he would never again be as embarrassed by Hampshire students as he was that day – they could not have done anything that would have been more disrespectful of Brown. Later a student said, “I never dreamed I’d be at a college where the president would be excoriating me for not protesting.”

Changing Students, Changing Worlds

Greg and Toni with family.

Greg mortgaged his future when he recruited a woman for the Hampshire College board whose dear cause was Pathways to College, which helps disadvantaged students prep for college; for every year she gave to Hampshire, he’d serve on Pathways’ board. The program appeals to his convictions: “The fastest way to change a high school is to get the students to do it.” Part of Pathways’ mission is to help promising students network with each other and become those change agents. Those same skills are the ones they’ll need to succeed in college.

Nowadays, Greg travels for Pathways, while Toni continues to care for her six ponies, which she does without help. She gives lessons in the summer, but does not train year-round with an indoor ring. She hopes kids try different sports, or take some time off – and the ponies too. “People mostly have horses now, but ponies are more like cats,” she says affectionately. Soon the place will once again be full of children “hanging around, helping each other get it done,” she adds. “Children are incredible teachers, because they’re there, or they have been there. If you give them an opportunity, they run with it. Parents get it – this place is not competitive. The kids learn partnership, self-control, and joy.”

David Macaulay

To be inside the Norwich studio of illustrator/writer David Macaulay is to be aloft in the cozy company of sketchpads, stacks of tracing paper, shelves of art and history books, 3-D models, collected birds’ nests, and one kitty named Scribbles. Awash in natural light from four large windows, the studio is attached to the home he shares with his wife, Ruthie, their two children, another cat, and three dogs. David’s son, Sander, is at home, attending Hanover High School, and daughter Julia is at UVM and “loving it.”

While Macaulay is a well-known face around town, he is also known the world over for his children’s books which feature the inner workings of machines and the human body, as well as the design and purpose of buildings, from mosques to castles.

Since winter, one wall of Macaulay’s studio has been pinned with sketches he’s made of a particular ship: the SS United States. The nearly 1000-foot long boat is not only the subject of Macaulay’s forthcoming children’s book, it is the vessel that carried him and his family from England to the United States in 1957. Readers will find the giant steamship visually dissected in classic Macaulay style, while getting a peek into Macaulay’s view as a child.

Growing up, Macaulay’s parents helped foster his imagination by example. Both mother and father enjoyed making things and understanding how they work. His father worked with textile machinery and his mother was a craftsperson. Sewing, embroidery, and cutting wood were all part of home life.

“My parents were both makers of things,” Macaulay said. “Anything they needed, they made. Seeing how things are made starts you on the road to understanding how things are made. That is the key to curiosity and that leads to imagination.”

While playing in the woods was his favorite pastime, on those rainy England days he’d be indoors creating special worlds. He recalled in particular placing toy soldiers in his mother’s flower pots and creating a ski lift from spools of thread to carry them to the top of the curtain rods.

The Macaulay family moved to New Jersey in the late fifties when David’s dad was recruited to license textile machines in the U.S. While dad flew to the States to get things in order for the move, David, his mom, and two siblings, took to the sea on the SS United States, a massive ocean liner 100 feet longer than the Titanic.

To write about the ship, Macaulay is doing a lot of research, including reading books and interviewing friends with backgrounds in history. When he was afloat on the ship as a child, he admits he was “bored” and more interested in watching movies that were played for passengers than checking out the ship. Now docked in Philadelphia, the boat is owned by the SS United States Conservancy, an organization dedicated to preserving this historical boat, currently in danger of destruction.

The book ends upon the Macaulay family’s arrival in the U.S., but of course David’s own journey in life was only just beginning. After several years in New Jersey, the family moved to Pawtucket, RI, and eventually Macaulay attended the Rhode Island School of Design to study architecture.

While he did do some drawing here and there in his youth, he preferred to make things. In high school his drawing was mechanical and for attention, he explained. In college, he said that he “didn’t have the courage to be an illustrator or painter. Those weren’t real jobs.”

And yet upon graduation, Macaulay felt architecture was not for him. He wanted a creative role in which he had more control. While a student at RISD, he worked for an interior designer who was very encouraging of his illustrations, and whenever an opportunity for graphic work came up – such as designing a menu cover at a local restaurant – Macaulay took it.

“I kept looking for freelance illustration work,” he said. “I began to illustrate books written by friends, and I started to see how words and pictures came together.”

Eventually Macaulay began work on what would become his first book, Cathedral. When Macaulay brought his book to an editor, the story was actually one of fantasy, merely featuring a cathedral in the background.

“The editor said, ‘we don’t need more fantasy,’ but he was drawn to the cathedral,” Macaulay explained.

And thus was born Cathedral: The Story of Its Construction, featuring intricate pen-and-ink drawings and descriptive text of all aspects of a French Gothic cathedral.

While the subjects of his books are often quite grand in scale, in his day-to-day life, he prefers the dynamics of a small town. He and his family moved to Norwich about 11 years ago.

“I enjoy walking the dogs around town at night,” where Macaulay said he enjoys passing the lit-up windows of the Norwich Inn and seeing people dining and laughing, or catching a glimpse of square dances or fencers with swords through a window at Tracy Hall.

“There are these little pockets of life throughout town. The scale is so human.”

Norah Lake of Sweetland Farm, managing some of her chickens

Agriculture has always been an important component of the commerce of the Upper Valley. Dairy farms, cornfields, and orchards have long dotted the area’s landscape. Though these well-known farm landmarks still are common, there is a new and thriving area of agricultural commerce now found in our area – the small, local, independent food producer.

Shopping local for food products, as well as other types of goods, continues to grow in popularity. With the concern about additives in food products, both nationally and internationally, knowing the source and maker of the foods one buys is of greater concern than ever. Nothing seems to put one’s mind at ease more than buying what you eat from your neighbor.

In the town of Norwich alone, there are numerous small farms and specialty food producers. Susan Zak, owner of Bakewell, is one such producer of unique, local foods. Though not a lifelong producer of food products, Zak says, “I was always interested in cooking and baking.”

While living in New York, Zak took many cooking classes. After moving to Vermont, Zak attended cooking school at the New England Culinary Institute. Upon completing classwork there, in 2008 Zak opened her business, Bakewell, from her home in Norwich.

Though the name Bakewell might give one the impression she only produces baked goods, Zak creates many types of food products through her business. “I do a wide range of sweet and savory products,” she says. Quiches, almond cakes, whole grain salads, and pastries featuring vegetables and goat cheese, are just some of her creations.

Another transplant to the Upper Valley who has created a local food business is Paula Alexandrescu, owner of My Brigadeiro, a specialty chocolate shop in Hanover. Alexandrescu, who lives in Norwich, started the business in her home in 2012. In late 2014, she opened her store on Main Street in Hanover, though she continues to do some of her chocolate production out of her Norwich home. “I would have loved to have opened a shop in Norwich,” says Alexandrescu, though she felt to be successful, she needed the greater foot traffic found in downtown Hanover. Still, with her home, her business start, and some of her production in Norwich, Alexandrescu feels a kinship with the Norwich business community. “I’m so proud to be a Norwich business,” she says.

Alexandrescu’s chocolate creations have a tie to traditional Brazilian treats, and are customized with her own recipes and creativity. Having made her special chocolates for occasions such as her son’s birthday, Alexandrescu was encouraged by friends to turn her skill into a business.

When she began her business, Alexandrescu sold her chocolates at several local retailers. She found, however, that with the short shelf life of her chocolates, she really needed to sell her candies herself, from her own storefront. She still does sell the chocolates from a few area stores, including Dan & Whit’s.

Susan Zak also sells most of the food she producers herself, though not from a storefront. Zak works regularly with one of the departments at Dartmouth College, providing food for their events, meetings and seminars. Occasionally, she will cater a private event, or offer her goods at area events, such as the Norwich Historical Society’s annual antique show. Some of her products, primarily frozen dough, can be found at Dan & Whit’s. Killdeer Farm retails some products, including a granola Zak makes. “The granola is super popular,” she says.

Norah Lake, who owns and operates Sweetland Farm in Norwich, sells all of the products her farm produces directly from the farm. At some point, Lake says, she would like to offer her food products through local retailers. For now, however, her customers buy through the popular Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) shares.

As is true with other area farms such as Killdeer and Cedar Circle, Sweetland Farm offers their clients traditional and specialty vegetable products through the CSA shares. Sweetland also raises their own lambs, pigs, and chickens, with most of the meat they produce sold to the shareholders. One does not go to Sweetland to pick up an individual ham or leg of lamb, however. “We sell whole sides, cut up into the various cuts,” says Lake.

Right now, Sweetland Farm raises about 30 lambs, 15 pigs, and 500 meat chickens a year for processing and sale. “As we get up and running, we’d like to add beef to the mix,” says Lake.

When ready for the market, the lamb and pigs are sent to an area butcher for processing. The meat is available to customers later in the fall, and is USDA certified. The chickens are processed right on the farm, and sold as whole roasters, says Lake. Sometimes there are more roasting chickens available for sale then there are shareholders to buy them, but that is not a problem. In that case, “we often post on the local list serves to let people know chickens are available,” says Lake.

All of these food producers find that being in the Upper Valley, and the Norwich area in particular, is key to their success. “I don’t think that if I started (the business) anywhere else, I would have done as well,” says Brigadeiro’s Paula Alexandrescu. “The support is great,” she says, adding that support from other area businesses has been critical. To succeed, “you have to rely on other businesses,” says Alexandrescu.

Norah Lake says people choose farm CSAs based on geography, and with so many people in Norwich and surrounding towns devoted to quality, locally produced foods, she is thrilled to have her farm in Norwich.

Susan Zak also finds the Norwich area a great location for her business. “People appreciate great food,” she says of area residents.

Working out of her Norwich home, and not a commercial space, is another great advantage, says Zak. “Its been great,” says Zak of working at home, adding, “It allows a lot of flexibility.” That flexibility allows her to constantly try new recipes and new products, Zak says. In order to work out of her home, her kitchen is certified by the Vermont Department of Health, says Zak.

For small, local food producers, farmer’s markets are a natural way to market their products. The Norwich Farmer’s Market is, of course, the “granddaddy” of area farmer’s markets.  In the spring, and again later in the fall, Zak is a regular exhibitor at the Norwich Farmer’s Market. She purposely does not do the market during the warm summer months, as she remarks that pastry does not hold up particularly well outside on a hot day.

When she wasn’t running her retail store, Alexandrescu offered her candies at area food events, but with the store, she does fewer of those events. Chefs of the Valley is one event she does participate in, she says.

All of these local food producers find that adding diversity to their mix of products is essential to maintaining a successful business. Norah Lake mentions that growing a mix of specialty vegetables along with the staples is important, and Susan Zak enjoys experimenting with new recipes and flavors.

New, different flavors are very important in the candy making business, says Paula Alexandrescu. When she began her business, Alexandrescu offered 10 different flavors of her chocolates; today, she has 45 different flavors. “I create flavors for the different seasons,” she says.

Alexandrescu depends on her customers at My Brigadeiro to give her input on her different candies and flavors. “We love opinions from customers,” she says. “Our customers tell us what they like and dislike.”

After opening the shop in Hanover, Alexandrescu decided to expand her offerings beyond candies. “We needed to diversify because of all the space,” she says. As a result, My Brigadeiro now offers coffee, cookies, cupcakes, and cake, made with their own chocolate. Alexandrescu makes these baked goods, just as she does her candies.

Adding diversity to the mix at Sweetland Farm included planting a 200-tree fruit orchard, says Norah Lake. The orchard includes pear trees, plum trees, and 40 varieties of apple trees. As this is the fifth year for the orchard, Lake says, “We are hoping to get our first little crop this year.”

A great advantage small, local food producers in our area have is using locally grown products in their recipes. Alexandrescu mentions she uses local farm cream in her candies. Susan Zak grows and produces many of the ingredients she uses in her creations at Bakewell. Some of the vegetables she uses come from her own garden, she raises chickens for her eggs, and even produces her own maple syrup.

One of the true pleasures of owning and operating any small business is that it allows the owner to take part in all aspects of the production.  Whether it is Susan Zak experimenting with new recipes in her kitchen, Paula Alexandrescu interacting with her customers about what they like, or dislike in her latest creations, or Norah Lake moving her chickens or sheep from barn to pasture on the farm, the ability to be ”hands on” in all aspects of their businesses give these entrepreneurs a great level of satisfaction.

Sue Kenney and the Golden Bookends, Pablo and Lady

Norwich-based dog trainer, Sue Kenney hasn’t always been a professional dog trainer, but she has always been involved with training dogs. It started with raising Guide Dog puppies for the blind.

Sue raised Guide Dog puppies since her children were young and would bring them into the Marion Cross School in Norwich. The dogs were even incorporated into the curriculum; students would keep journals about each puppy’s weight, nutrition, and behavior. Of course, the benefit went both ways, it was excellent socialization for the puppies as well.

When Sue moved on from the Marion Cross School, she studied under other instructors until she became a dog trainer herself. Although it was a big leap, she decided to start her own business called Goldenbookends Family Dog Training. The Golden Bookends, Pablo and Lady, were her two golden retrievers at the time. Pablo was a pup they raised for the Guide Dog program who didn’t make it, and Lady was a rescue.

Sully has been blilnd since birth

Sue did not advertise her business and, although that made her worry, she quickly found that news spread by word-of-mouth. She now teaches classes at SAVES in Lebanon. The realization that you can start a business at any time in your life and be successful has also been one of the biggest bonuses of Goldenbookends, Sue commented.

“If you enjoy what you are doing, people know that. They know you are in your element,” she said.

Sue built her training philosophy around establishing a team between the handler and the dog. In the classroom, she teaches the handlers positive reinforcement and attention games to teach the dogs to become “a thinking partner in the process.”

Her main goal is for the handler and the dog to develop a strong bond through the use of games, focus exercises, and self-control in order to communicate with each other. Unlike the traditional dog training classes where the idea is to have a dog submit to the human, Sue encourages obedience but with a give and take, an understanding of dogs, how they are wired and how best to work as a team. Using this philosophy, she tries to create an enjoyable experience.

I asked Sue her favorite class to teach: “Puppy First Steps,” she said. “That is when emotions run high, just having someone to talk to is so important. Each phase tests your creativity and patience. This is good for us. It’s about enjoying every minute. [As an instructor] You have to love people as much as you love the dogs. Guiding people through those early moments are some of the most satisfying parts and you have to be available [outside of class] for that too.”

The classes themselves create a wonderful sense of community among the humans too, as well as the dogs of course.

“[In a class] no one talks about where they come from. They are all there for a common purpose, to work together as a team.”

She also noted that the community often extends beyond the classroom as the handler/dog teams sometimes get together outside of class, building a supportive camaraderie that can create lasting bonds.

The original Golden Bookends have passed on since Sue started her business, but she has a new arrival in her life. Sully, a twenty month old blind golden retriever came to live with Sue in August of this year. She found the young dog, who has been blind since birth, through Yankee Golden Retriever Rescue based out of Hudson, MA. It’s been a new challenge, she said, but Sully has been a very willing participant, happy to live out in rural Vermont where he can hike whenever his handler wants.