The number to call for tickets to the Comedy Night FUNdraiser that benefits the Kody Noel Bartlett Scholarship is: 860-377-7430.

CITIZEN OF THE YEAR: DAVID FOSTER

It all began with one word: SHABOO. In 1971, a group of young friends and siblings bought the old Conantville silk mill for playing their own music and turned it into one of the premier venues for seeing up and coming music performers, established bands, and blues legends.

Talking with David on a concert to help a local arts organization a few years back, David said, “it started out just for fun, well, and to see if we could make a little money, too. But, then we realized, people didn’t know Blues, and so, we decided to teach people here in the Northeast about really good music. And we did.”

Did they ever! The Shaboo Inn hosted New England acts as well as those already known nationally, and of course, legends of Blues from Chicago and the South: Boston, The Cars, Aerosmith, Taj Mahal, Blood, Sweat & Tears, Charlie Daniels Band, Tom Rush, James Cotton, Bonnie Raitt, Janis Ian, Arlo Guthrie, Dave Mason, Jonathan Edwards, PousetteDart Band, James Montgomery, Aztec Two-Step, Pure Prairie League, The Fabulous Rhinestones, NRBQ, Roomful of Blues, Eight to the Bar, and The Police, among others, all graced the Shaboo Inn stage.

It was always in David’s heart to be a musician, joining a band at the tender age eleven, then later on with his own group “Great Controversy”. The original idea behind the Shaboo was to have a place for David and his friends to play their music. It became much more than that, and for many in this area, a musical rite of passage. There’s a reason now one sees the 60-80 year olds rocking out in the shadow of the Shaboo Stage on Jillson Square for summer concerts: the magic of that time and place, and people who helped to create it.

David later became a successful full-time booking agent for other acts, all while touring with the Shaboo All Stars, later to become the Mohegan Sun All Stars, the popular house band at the the Wolf Den. Shaboo Productions was developed to support the “backline” and production of club, arena, and stages throughout the greater New England and New York area. Long-time friend and colleague Bruce John said, “the production company helped turn into something special”.

First Selectman, Allan Cahill was pleased with the Gazette’s award as, “Hampton is a volunteer driven Community, David Foster has always given back to make our Town a better place to live.“

David’s boundless generosity has supported a diversity of causes throughout eastern Connecticut for many years, including The Hampton Fire Company. Says Chief Rich Schenk, “we are very thankful and honored by his most recent, extremely generous donation, which enabled us to purchase a new, state of the art Hurst Tool, better known as the ‘jaws of life.’ This tool allows fire fighters to quickly pry open car doors to gain access to patients so they can be quickly transported to the hospital, and has already proven indispensable, having been used in several recent car accidents.” Additional donations allowed the Company to pave the entire fire house parking lot, both in front and behind the facility. “His loyal support and endless advocacy for The Hampton Fire Company simply demonstrates his compassion for the small town that he and all of us, call home”.

David has always wanted to “do good” in Eastern Connecticut; with the Lester E. and Phyllis M. Foster Foundation, named for his father and stepmother, he continues to do exactly that. Bruce John continued to praise his longtime friend: “with his benevolence shown to those experiencing poverty and homelessness in our community, he has used his family’s foundation skillfully and most important, locally.”

While David grew up and made the center of the production company in Willimantic, he and wife Marilyn have called Hampton their home for over 20 years. Dale and Dave DeMontigny, knowing David for many of those years, say “he has always looked out for the ‘little guy’.” He has been very generous throughout these years helping places like Windham Hospital, Eastern Connecticut State University, Covenant Soup Kitchen, the No Freeze Shelter, and many more area places of need.”

For the last forty years, he has lent his own musical talents to the fabulous Shaboo All-Stars, allowing him the privilege of playing with other national stars in the music community, and has inspired musicians to support local causes, resulting in the funding of several vital services. Indeed, David’s caring and generosity extend not only to marginalized people, but also to those who care for them.

Arvind Shaw, retiring Executive Director of Generation Health Center acknowledged David’s unwavering efforts to “alleviate poverty, hunger and homelessness, and to enhance health care and support people with disabilities”. These have included funding the Dining Hall for Camp Horizons, organizing concerts to pay the mortgage for the Covenant Soup Kitchen, as well as purchasing a van to transport food, donations to Generations Health Care and Windham Hospital’s oncology department. Ever a patron of the arts, he has contributed to the Windham Theatre Guild, the Bread Box Theater, and even headlining an event in Hampton for our own town fuel fund. About supporting the work of the Hampton Fire Company at a recent presentation, David says, “I love Hampton very much,” and “I care deeply about everyone in Hampton, and I wanted to do something for the town.”

In getting to know David personally over the past years, I have seen how his light brightens the dark for so many and as an uplifting example of caring. In 1979, as an impressionable sixteen year-old desk clerk at the Willimantic Motor Inn (now the Inn on Storrs), I was warned about the strange and wild individuals who would be coming through to see the musical acts at the Shaboo Inn, if not those “nefarious” performers themselves. Nowadays, I am privileged to work in a space that provides direct services to those experiencing homelessness or are at risk of becoming so. I would never have thought there would be a direct connection from the music of those muggy summer nights to the place I walk in the door and greet our guests. It is, just so, well, “small town”.

Asked about his legacy, Foster said, “We never knew we would grow to this level…I’m really proud of it.”

When receiving his honor from the Fire Company, as a ‘small town kind of guy’, David did have one simple request: he wanted a ride in the fire truck. “And who among us would not want a ride in a fire truck? He got his ride and was thrilled. Unfortunately, we broke his arm helping him get out of the truck!” According to Chief Schenk, “even after we broke his arm, he still graciously donated to the Company!” We can think of no one more deserving of the 2023 honor.

Thank you David, for all that you do and for calling Hampton your home.

Mary Oliver

Ukraine has been in the news since last spring when Russia’s Vladimir Putin decided to invade and annex the independent nation back to Russia. No one asked the Ukrainians how they felt about this. It is doubtful that the Russians thought the Ukrainian people would be out in the streets, celebrating their liberation by the Russians. But they didn’t anticipate the Ukrainian response: the fierce resistance of the Ukrainian patriots, taking up arms against them; and the support for Ukraine from so much of the rest of the world.

Here in the United States we have observed the devastation and genocide committed by the Russians against innocent people. The Ukrainians have fled their country, starved, and endured their infrastructure – electric generation, roads, bridges, train tracks, and water supplies – attacked and sabotaged. In the midst of this continuing crisis, a couple from Hampton’s Mennonite community has volunteered to assist the International Brotherhood Aid (IBA), a charitable relief organization.  Ammon and Susanna Fisher have volunteered to provide hands-on assistance to the Ukrainian people.  During their months’ stay, Ammon will be supervising staff in the installation of small, suitcase-sized, wood burning stoves, with volunteers responsible for the placement and safety of the woodstove pipes. With the completion of each assignment, the people will be provided with emergency parcels of wood.

The Ukrainian people are close to the Fisher’s hearts.  From 2013 to 2016, Ammon and Susanna were responsible for building church fellowships there. They will be flying to Romania and make their way to the village of Skvira in Ukraine. While there, Ammon says he will reacquaint himself with the Ukrainian language. “I can read and write the language, and I do understand it when spoken, though I don’t consider myself fluent.” One of Ammon’s worries while there is not so much their personal safety, but concern for his mother who’s suffering from jaundice of the liver. “She has her good days,” he says, “but there are also those bad days.”

The Fishers are members of a very active Mennonite community, and Hampton is fortunate to have them here. Some of these neighbors are members of the Hampton Fire Company. They built the Town pavilion we all have enjoyed, especially during these Covid years, treated us to Thanksgiving Dinners and concerts at the Congregational Church and Organic Roots Farm. During the storms of 2020, their assistance with Christian Aid Ministries resulted in seventeen generators retrieved from a warehouse in Tennessee and delivered to Hampton households without power. They are always willing to help their neighbors.

Friends of the Fishers are not surprised by their actions, which speak louder than words. But I’ll close with Ammon’s response to the first question I asked him – why did you decide to go to Ukraine at a time like this?

“I have a soft spot in my heart for the Ukrainian people. I saw suffering, and I wanted to do something. There are banners and flags that show support for the Ukrainian people. Instead of just standing with them, I cry with Ukraine.”

If you would like to make a donation to this sponsoring organization, contact ibaukraine.org.

Juan Arriola 

In 2022, the members of the Hampton Fire Company experienced a 20 percent call increase over the previous year with the total dispatches rising from 185 in 2021 to 230 in 2022. Of the 230 dispatches, 113 were strictly medical emergencies. Vehicle accidents nearly doubled  — rising from 20 to 38.

HFC gained five new members in 2022: Nicky Sayles, Kevin Cante, Mike McCabe, Mark Letson, and Lindsey Pawlikowski.

Nicky Sayles completed Emergency Medical Responder training. Wendell Kauffman completed Fire Fighter-1 training.  Nick Neborsky returned to the Fire Company upon completing his six-year enlistment in the Navy where he served as a nuclear propulsion engineer aboard the USS Truman.

Members bid their final farewells to: Jim Rodriguez (past Chief), Mark Collins (past Chief of Fire Police) Leon Berard (past Lieutenant)  and Carl Kauffman (serving member).  Engine 112 (1953 LaFrance ) recently returned to “service” was present at two of the funerals.

Hampton Fire Company would like to express their gratitude to the following people for the generous donations in 2022:

Nancy Armstrong, Dennis & Sandra Bailey, Bigelow Howard Valley Game Club, Lynn Burdick, Jean Burdick. Robert Burgoyne, Morris Burr Jr,  Anne Carbone, Paul Cichon, Covenant  Soup Kitchen, David & Dale DeMontigney,  Robert Dibble, Roger & Irene Dionne, Mary Ellen Donnelly, Mr. & Mrs. Flamming,  David Foster,  Paul & Janet Generous,  John Gorman, Linda & Robert Grindle,  Gordon Hamersley,  Patricia & Jadynn Hart,  Jacqueline Jacobsohn,  Kaye & Scott Johnson,  Jordon & Ann Rodriguez, Kathy & Ray LaChance,  Michelle & Martin Mlyniec,  Mortlake Fire Co. Brooklyn, Chris Newton, Laura & Daniel Phyfe, Pamela Picard, Steven &  Wendy Picard, Andrea Quintana,  Cynthia Rondeau,  Richard & Diane Ross,  Jessica & Mark Samios,  Shaboo Productions,  Donald Sholes Sr.,  Donna Tommelleo,  Janice & Jerrod Trecker, Leslie White,  Nathaniel & Diana Woodward.

Fire House Dog

When a loved one is no longer able to be cared for at home, a permanent placement in a nursing home may be required. Medicaid (AKA Title 19) is the only insurance that pays for permanent residence in a nursing home. Long-term care insurance policies usually pay large portions of the bill according to the terms of each individual policy.

A person can have no more than $1,600 in assets to qualify for Medicaid. If a spouse will remain in the home, they are known as the “community spouse”. In this case, the home and a car would not be considered assets as the community spouse needs a place to live and transportation.

An attorney specializing in elder law should be consulted to legally divide (called a spousal assessment) any assets in preparation for an application to Medicaid. In many cases, the nursing home spouse will end up with more than $1,600 in assets. This money needs to be “spent down” on qualifying medical items such as medications and room and board in the nursing home. Currently room and board rates in nursing homes are over $400 per day.

Nursing homes usually have social workers who will assist in filing Medicaid applications. During this process, Medicaid will look back five years at bank records. Any monies that were spent on non-qualifying items (giving money away to your family, as an example) may count against your application. Once approved (the process can take 2-3 months) payment to the nursing home is retroactive to the date of application. Any pension income and social security will be paid toward the bill first. Medicaid will pay the rest of the monthly bill.

Medicare and Medicare Advantage plans will pay for rehabilitation in a nursing home as long as the patient is making progress toward a discharge to home and for no more than 100 days per episode.

For more information, please call me at 860-208-2430. I am also available at Town Hall on the first Thursdays of every month from 5-7PM.

Jane Cornell, Agent for the Elderly

The annual Super Bowl Sunday grinder sale will take place again this year, sponsored by the Hampton Seniors. Grinder pickup is on February 12^th, Super Bowl Sunday, from 1-3PM at the Community Center.  The proceeds from this sale will go towards the Hampton Seniors’ community outreach.

Choices for grinders are ham, turkey or salami (which includes provolone, lettuce and tomato) or veggie grinders (which include provolone, lettuce, tomato, carrot, cucumber, onion and peppers) for $12 each or a “Super” grinder with all the meats, provolone and all the veggies for $15!

To order a grinder, please contact Kathi Newcombe by email at knewcombe@charter.net or by phone at 860-455-9864 or 860-933-9589 (leave a message if no answer).  You will receive a phone or email response confirming your order.  Orders must be received no later than Wednesday, February 8^th at Noon.

Thank you for your continued support!

The Hampton Congregational Church has announced this year’s gala Silent Film event to be held at the church on February 25th.   This year is pure comedy featuring Buster Keaton in one of his funniest features: SPITE MARRIAGE. The film includes all the usual Keaton conniving touches to keep audiences of all ages laughing.

Returning to accompany the film is Clark Wilson, considered by many to be the best silent film accompanist in America. He’ll use the church’s special-designed digital organ that’s custom fitted with all the needed musical flavors for silent comedies. As in past years, this event includes pre-show dinners of homemade soups and breads.  Servings begin at 5PM and continue to 6:45.  Showtime is 7PM.

This is a show for everyone from school kids to grandparents…something really refreshing to help break the deep winter blahs.  Meal and movie are $15 for adults and $10 for students.  Children 5 and under are free. Bring the entire family for $40.

Call:  860 455-9677 or hcc06247@gmail.com for questions and pre-show ticket purchases.

Perhaps no property in Hampton, with the exception of Trail Wood, has as many written references as the property at 279 Main Street.  Several writers have penned personal memories and in depth studies of the history of the property and the people who have lived there. It has been the subject of articles in the Gazette, described in a number of published books, and featured in an April 2008 issue of Early American Life in an article titled “A Perfect Connecticut Retreat”.

In The Hampton Gazette’s fledgling year, owners Bill and Beatrice Utley, a member of the Board of the National Trust for Historic Preservation, explored the property in the 1979 series titled “Sleuthing an Old House”. The Utley’s relied on clues from the home’s physical components, “the frame of the house, the great stone fireplace, early lath, plaster, and nails”, to determine its dates, as “we have found no letters, diaries, or histories which describe the house or its builder.” Tracing ownership to the earliest records in Town Hall, the Utley’s discovered that the home was originally owned by Captain Daniel Fuller and his wife, Patience Stedman.  “Suddenly, the social history superseded the architectural,” they wrote. Fuller, the son of one of Hampton’s pioneer families, was a wealthy landowner whose estate included the Main Street townhouse and a farmhouse with over 300 acres on Old Town Pound and Edwards roads; Patience was the sister of Thomas Stedman who in 1754 built the village Meeting House, which serves as our Congregational Church, the second oldest in continuous use in Connecticut.

The property was also part of a series on the architecture of Hampton homes contributed by Tom Gaines, who praised the Utley’s for their detective work, noting their use of colors, including the “original tones discovered in a paint mixing barrel in the attic” made with brick dust and buttermilk. The article also mentions a windmill, which apparently was still visible when the article was published in 1983.

A detailed account of construction is recorded in Bob Burgoyne’s 2002-2003 series “This Old Hill” in which our Town Historian recorded the origins of the village buildings. “In 1785 George Martin Jr. sold his sister, Mercy Martin, a parcel of raw land containing 4 5/8 acres, approximately 15 rods (247 ½ feet) north of the Meetinghouse, with 15 rods frontage on the street, for 70 pounds. In 1791 Mercy Martin sold this same parcel to Captain Daniel Fuller for the same amount. When Captain Fuller’s estate was inventoried following his death in 1818, at the age of 82, it listed a lot near the Meetinghouse with a dwelling house and other buildings on it containing 4 ¾ acres valued at $1200…It is possible that Thomas Stedman Jr. built the house at 279 Main Street for his sister and her husband soon after Captain Fuller purchased the land from Mercy Martin in 1791.”  Stedman also constructed a dwelling for himself between 1790 and 1793, the house north of the Meetinghouse at 273 Main Street. That the two houses were probably built by the same builder is not their only connection. For a while, the same family owned them.  In 1804, Stedman sold “the land on which I now live…to Roger and Solomon Taintor”, who farmed there throughout their lives. Solomon’s son Henry continued the tradition, and though none of his children farmed there, they shared the “summer home” until the youngest, Mary, purchased her siblings’ shares.

The lives of the family were chronicled in 1993 when owners and historians James and Janet Robertson published All Our Yesterdays, A Century of Family Life in an American Small Town, the product of the “attic treasures” they discovered which provided a glimpse of the family’s “private lives in a world that no longer existed.” Though the focus is the house at 273 Main Street, which the Taintors called “Maple Terrace” after the trees Roger planted in 1829, the house at 279 is included:  “Mary’s son Roger bought the next house north on Main Street for a summer home for his growing family of three sons”. They would call this second home “Sunny Acres”.

One of those sons, Wendell Davis, would eventually settle in town with his wife, Alison, a decision from which Hampton still reaps several benefits. One of their many contributions to the community was on the pages of the Gazette, where Wendell elaborated on “Sunny Acres” in a 1998 series titled “Boyhood Recollections”. Wendell’s descriptions of the center of town in the early part of this century provide strong impressions of village life as viewed from the vantage point of his home. Of the Hampton General Store where “my recollection is that there was about an equal number of horses and automobiles in the yard. The arrival of either a new horse or a new car called for a general emptying of the store as everyone went out to inspect”. Of the Congregational Church and the hurricane of 1938, when the “entire steeple, bell, and belfry blew down and lay on the ground between the church and the steeple”. Of the Chelsea Inn, where “at noon time Mrs. Burnham walked up and down the pathway ringing a hand bell to call the guests back from where ever they might be visiting. My brothers and I were told that this was the time for us to come home also.” And of the parsonage, and his observation that “As more and more houses were sold as ‘summer homes’, there were fewer and fewer lights in the village in the winter time. The pastor’s study light was one of the few.”

An entry on the era of the “summer homes” from Hampton Remembers, in which Alison Davis recorded the memories of the townsfolk who were born here at the turn of the century, describes a time when “bicycles swept up and down the Main Street and the children played Kick-the-Can and played all over the village”. There were tennis tournaments on Sunny Acres’ court “with silver trophies for the most polite and for the most cheerful loser”.

Though there’s little written on the property’s barns, the April 2008 issue of Early American Life, which describes “a picturesque small New England town in Connecticut’s northeast ‘quiet corner’ (that) hearkens to an earlier time” refers to them. “The Davises were not completely without amenities. In the early 1930’s, their father erected a wind mill between the two barns to pump well water into the house”. The article also references the intent of the owners at the time, Tom Cahill and Maura Lindsay, to finish the Utley’s restoration efforts and restore the barn. This was accomplished shortly afterwards, and the couple held their wedding reception in the newly refurbished barn. The buildings are still impeccably maintained by current owners, Richard and Sharon Haldas, but the property, with its gray clapboards and old wagon on the lawn, stonewall and split-rail fence, and bright red barn still “hearken to an earlier time”.

In 2004, Wendell and Alison Davis’ daughter Beth Powning published The Hat Box Letters, dedicated to her husband and to her grandparents, Roger Wolcott Davis and Helen Merriam Davis, the members of the Taintor family who purchased the property and summered at “Sunny Acres”. In this novel, the main character’s exploration of the hatboxes in the attic “takes her to the closets, bedrooms, pantries and cupboards of her grandparents’ enormous, white-clapboarded house on the tree-lined street of the village.” The novel contains wonderful descriptive passages of our village through: “a child’s view of houses, large as ocean liners, tipping back against the wondrous sky…and the church bent back against the sky, white clapboards and clear windowpanes…the old Chelsea Inn, just across the street…listed like a ship, settling ever deeper into the soil, its windows blinded by brown paper shades”. And of nightfall: “Up and down the village street, rectangles of lamplight stroked the dusk…The night rose. Down the street lights came on behind the small-paned windows and flickered as breezes lifted the leaves of bridal wreath and mock orange bushes. Up in the hayfield fireflies blinked like loose Christmas tree bulbs.”

In this novel, we learn of the property’s christening, as the storyteller explains her grandmother’s connotation of “Sunshine, her word for elements of happiness: the solid bodies of children, their fat fingers wandering over pictures of rabbits in vests, cold apples, the beading of their burst cells when sliced, fingertips in lard and flour, creaky floorboards over which she might pass the straw of a broom.” And this novel confirms two of the property’s features which no longer exist, yet played significant roles in its history: the “tennis court surrounded by a tall chicken-wire fence laced with red-leaved poison ivy,” where villagers once played, and “the windmill over the barn…some of its slats were rotting and its wooden tank needed repair”, components which were rather unique to 279 Main Street, as I know of no other barn in town with a windmill, and only one other yard with a tennis court at that time. I am one of a few who can recall the windmill – what a curiosity it was to a small child! — and one of even fewer who remembers riding a tricycle on the smooth surface of the tennis courts.

It is in The Hatbox Letters that we find a description of the barn’s use: the harvesting of apples. “How the family, swarming over trees and grass beneath the cloud-streaked sky was like a flock, as purposeful, as joined…They made cider at the end of the apple-picking weekends…over the barn roof the windmill’s vane swung to the northwest, its wooden blades began their ponderous revolution. Grampa Giles tipped bushels of apples into the iron hopper. They bounced like rubber balls, some spat out, while others, caught by the flywheel, cracked wetly. Disheveled yellow jackets appeared like a bell-called congregation, wings splayed as if flung in rapture, legs dangling. They teetered on the edge of the press, crept sluggish along the spout. Cider welled, trembled, poured down a syrup of summer, as much the distillation of time as juice of apples… Harvest, and its celebration, was more important to her grandparents than Christmas…How they harvested every apple, broke no branch, guarded every bud, how they gathered every fallen leaf for the mulch pile, let no lettuce go to waste, treasured every child’s drawing. As if they could bear no more untimely harvests and so scoured the orchard, saved the summer, captured whatever they could.”

The lovely language of a lovely novel preserving, hearkening an earlier time.

Beth Powning’s “The Hat Box Letters” is available at Fletcher Memorial Library, as is, as well as for purchase, Alison Davis’ “Hampton Remembers”. We recommend both.

The blizzard of ’88, that’s the first snow that I can remember. I must have been only three years old at the time. I can remember looking out of the door window and seeing my father go down to the barn and he was gone so long that my mother was worried, y’know, to think that he couldn’t get back it was so bad. The winters were worse then, oh mercy, yes, lots worse. They’re nothin’ now like what they used to be!

Helen Whitehouse

We used to get a group together and we had a long, long double ripper that we’d slide on down the hill right straight on through the middle of the road, Grow Hill, and go on down to Elliot Station almost. There’d be twelve or fifteen of us on one long plank, about fourteen foot long with a sled under each end of it. Then we’d turn around and drag it back up. There was no traffic on the road – if there was, they turned out for us with their horses and sleigh. But we used to go up there moonlight nights when the sliding was good, a big group of us would go up there, and slide for two or three hours in the evening.

Arthur Kimball

We had these snow forts. We’d roll up these big balls of snow and then pile one on top of the other. Then two of the older boys would choose sides. They’d say “now I want Harold,” or “I want Alfred” or something like that and choose up sides. Then it was make up the balls and throw ‘em. Now if you could hit someone, then they were transferred to your side. And of course the forts faced one another – I don’t know how far apart they were but probably about twenty or thirty feet and quite long. And you could run around the side, you could do anything you wanted to, but if you got hit you belonged to the other side. The game was to get all on your side – and then you won!

Harold Stone

When I was a child, I had dogs as pets, first one poodle, and after he died, then another poodle.  We lived on Long Island, not in the NYCity part of L.I., but in Nassau County.  While we and our neighbors lived in houses, they were really on city size lots. Still, we did not hear the sirens of fire engines, ambulances, or cops nearly as often as NYCity people did, who lived mostly in apartments.  One of our dogs drove us crazy whenever an emergency vehicle with a siren blasting drove by. He threw back his head and howled just like a wolf howls. We thought that maybe he believed that the siren was really a wolf howling, so he howled back.  None of our neighbors’ dogs howled, just ours. Maybe he had an identity crisis and thought he really was a wolf; who knows.

I lived with my grandparents.  One day my grandfather said to me, “Go get Grandma and have her call the doctor.”  He then collapsed onto the floor right in front of me. This was decades before you could call 911 for an emergency. So I ran to Grandma, who called the doctor, who came and inspected my grandfather, and then he called an ambulance.  Boy, am I glad we can just dial 911 now when someone collapses. I went outside and sat on the steps to wait for the ambulance.  My dog sat right next to me.  I dreaded the howling that would come from my dog in our own family emergency.  Except that howling never came. The dog didn’t utter a peep, never mind a howl. To be sure the dog wouldn’t jump on any emergency personnel, I put him in his pen in the garage. Not only was our car in the garage, but also my grandfather’s workshop, where he worked on stuff that others turned into computers years later.

The ambulance personnel inspected my grandfather and announced he was dead.  An undertaker then came and removed my grandfather’s body. All this was in front of our silent dog. The undertaker then made the mistake of thinking that he could just reach into the pen and pet our dog. This dog never bit anyone or lunged at anyone before, but when the undertaker reached into the pen to stroke him, my dog lunged at his arm and tried to bite his hand, the same hand that had just removed my grandfather from the house.  The undertaker got his arm out of the pen in time to prevent a bite, but at that moment I really identified with my dog and thought I’d like to bite that superficially friendly guy who took my grandfather away. I fed and walked my dog before I went to school and when I came home from school. I think my grandfather must have walked him while I was at school, and I know he spoke to the dog while he toiled in his workshop. My dog moped for weeks after Grandpa died. He curled into a ball in the pen and didn’t beg to come out.  Finally, I went and got my grandfather’s sweater. He got up, sniffed it, wagged his tail, and then curled into a ball and moped again.  He knew Grandpa was dead. Other animals show grief too. Elephants have been seen repeatedly visiting and touching carcasses of family members and even visiting the bones of family members that have been dead for some time. People who call themselves scientists claim that only humans can grieve, not other animals. They forget that humans are animals too.

Angela Hawkins Fichter