Jessie Loew Samios: Selectman

I was born, raised and am now privileged to be settled in Hampton. My parents set an example of being involved in this town and taught my five siblings and me two key mantras: 1) grow where you’re planted and 2) live consciously. I took lessons learned on the family farm into my 35+ year professional career in the construction industry where I built relationships, managed people and multi-million-dollar budgets. I presently serve on our Board of Finance and have attended many town meetings in the last few years – involved, watching and learning. I will continue as an active leader for the benefit of all who call Hampton home. I will be careful with your money. I will work to build consensus on what is best for our schoolchildren. I want you to know what’s going on in town government. I will continue to listen. I will serve you.

Kaye Johnson: Town Clerk

I feel honored to be endorsed by the Republican town committee for the office of Town Clerk.  As a certified public accountant, I’m well-versed in the organization and preparation of accurate documents, a helpful expertise for the many duties of a Town Clerk, which include securing and preserving public documents, local licenses and elections support.  For 36 years I’ve enjoyed living in Hampton and have contributed to all manner of scouting, church and town events. I believe I would be a good Town Clerk – accessible, organized, knowledgeable – and always willing to learn more.

Judy Buell: Board of Finance

I grew up in Hampton and chose to stay here, after my husband and I were married, to raise our family. In addition to working on the family farm, my husband and I, with our girls, started our own farm. I spent 15 years working at the UConn Foundation as a staff accountant. A few years ago, I started my own successful ice cream business and have been working as a financial consultant for a neighboring town. I’m currently serving on the Board of Finance, as Vice-Chairman, and would like to continue to serve.

Kathi Newcombe: Board of Finance

I have worked hard to develop a reputation for keeping the citizens/taxpayers of Hampton informed and encouraging their involvement in town and regional government.  After currently serving nearly three years as an alternate to the Board of Finance, I am now seeking a full six-year membership on that Board.  Please vote for me — you have my promise to work toward more open and effective government and to continue to represent the interests of you, the voters.

Juan Arriola: Board of Education

I’m running for re-election on the Hampton Board of Education to continue the work my Republican colleagues and I initiated two years ago: fiscal responsibility. The majority on the board continue to increase the budget while the student population declines. I will continue to advocate for students within the confines of reality, for taxpayers, parents needing assistance, and the community at large, pressing officials to communicate with the rest of the town and to increase connections between the community and the school.

David Halbach: Board of Education

I’ve lived in Hampton all my life, graduated from Hampton Consolidated, PHHS, and Thames Valley in 1973. Started work at General Dynamics as an Electric Tech, worked my way into weld engineering, wood lab building and repairing specialized machines, later becoming a planner, supervisor, and general foreman, retiring in 2008. My wife of 45 years, Ruth, and I have a daughter, Helen, and son-in-law Dan, who live in Hampton, and two grandsons. I served on the school board in the mid 80’s. Knowing and appreciating those past and present board members, their work and dedication — my personal gratitude to them all. I look forward to serving the community I love once again.

Dan Postemski: Board of Education

Our son attends Hampton Elementary School, and his education, and the education of all the students, is of upmost importance to our family. I am keenly aware, however, of the fiscal constraints placed on our town, particularly with the State’s drastic cuts in aid to education. In the position I seek, I will search for ways to reduce spending accordingly, with an eye to minimal impact on student educational services, and a commitment to alleviating the tax burden on our residents.

Stan Crawford: Planning and Zoning

“Stewardship”; everyone has a gift. What can you give your community? I retired in 2006, built our home and moved to Hampton in 2009, with a vision to garden and volunteer all the rest of my days. So…I’ve served on Hampton’s: IWWA, Conservation Commission, BOF, P & Z, maintenance at FML, trustee at HCC, treasurer for both HAHS and Hampton Seniors Club. Much of my free time goes to Trails maintenance at Goodwin Forest, or carpentry projects for friends and neighbors. Perhaps your best gift is your vote.

John Berard: Board of Assessment Appeals

I have lived in Hampton all of my life, raised in the homestead where I’ve lived with my own family for over 20 years. Most of you know me through my involvement with the Fire Department, where I have served for over 40 years, and as the Town’s Building Inspector, a position I have held for 37 years. I would like to continue to serve on the town’s BAA. I appreciate your support.

Susan Crawford: Zoning Board of Appeals

I was elected to the ZBA in 2017 and would like to continue to serve in that capacity. I am committed to making a positive change to our zoning regulations to allow attractive business and small industry to Hampton to help offset the considerable tax burden on homeowners while maintaining the quaint, rural character of our lovely town. On the ZBA, I will continue to be a part of that process. I welcome your support.

Jo Freeman: Zoning Board of Appeals

I have been on the Zoning Board of Appeals for three terms and would like to continue to serve Hampton in this capacity.  I have always considered each presenting party before the Board with an unbiased, informed and fair decision based on the facts before me. Serving this town has been a pleasure.

The Registrars of Voters will hold a final registry session on October 26, from 9AM to 8PM in their Office at Town Hall which will be open for the purpose of registering voters who appear in person. The deadline for mail-in applications is also October 26. Hand-delivered mail-in registration applications must be received by the Registrars, or a Voter Registration Agency such as the Department of Motor Vehicles, on this date, and mail-in registration applications must be post-marked by this date in order for applicants to be entitled to participate in the November 2 Municipal Election. Only those whose qualifications as to age, citizenship, or residence mature after the October 26 deadline may register to vote up until November 1, when the Registrars will hold a limited registration session at their Office at Town Hall from 9AM to 5PM.

Absentee ballots will become available on October 1. The Executive Order that included Covid as an excuse to obtain an absentee ballot for the Presidential Election has been extended to this year’s Municipal Election, however applications will not be sent directly from the Secretary of State to voters as they were in 2020. Applications may be obtained at the Office of the Town Clerk during regular Town Hall hours, Tuesdays from 9AM to 4PM and Thursdays from 10AM to 7PM. Completed applications and ballots may be mailed to the Town Clerk or placed in the secured deposit box at the top of the ramp at Town Hall.

Dayna Arriola and Mary Oliver

A 2010 article featuring Farmers’ Markets compared Full Moon Farm to “an Andrew Wyeth painting with its fallow field sloping to the barn. The ambience within is just as memorable – plank floors, beaded boards, wainscoting, flecks of white wash, the silhouettes of farm tools, the scent of hay, bouquets of herbs and flowers in mason jars, vegetables displayed on tables draped with cotton cloths, bunches of colorful eggplants, carrots, beets, strawberry baskets of onions and new potatoes, bushels of corn, pecks of peppers, and bright red tomatoes nested on beds of fresh straw in wooden crates. Somehow all of the colors and textures and scents blend together and bring us to an era in which we readily yearn to spend more time.”

While none of this has changed in the last ten years, the barn at 130 Station Road has served more purposes than most in its 120 year history. Though the house was constructed earlier in the 19^th century than its circa 1880 Victorian renovations suggest, the barn was built in 1901 when the Copelands owned the property and operated a saw mill there. Fuller Brook, originally called “Roaring Brook” runs through the property and was the water source which powered one of the town’s first saw mills built further along Utley Road in 1719.

In the early 1920’s, owners Stanton and Cora Burdick ran “Hillbur Farm”, a dairy operation, selling the milk their cows produced at the Rawson Depot on Station Road. Their son Malcolm shared remembrances of the farm with current owners Rob and Ann Withey Miller. These ranged from the unforgettable — Malcolm and his brother Stanton would come home from school and spend three hours watering the cows, pouring from the well in the milk shed to a trough at a pace never fast enough to keep up with their consumption, to the nostalgic — he liked it when people traveled on horseback by their farm on the way to and from the train station, because people on horseback always stopped to talk.  Cars just drove by.

The family also raised broiler chickens in the buildings on the Utley Road portion of the property. Malcolm, and Paulie Tumel, maintained the government introduced knotweed to the region to protect chickens from avian predators. Where there’s knotweed, they claimed, there were chickens. Perhaps there’s truth to that; anyone paying attention to the invasiveness of knotweed will know that there’s so much of it on Utley Road that the Conservation Commission can’t even consider its removal in their “Nip the Knotweed” project. And while there’s little doubt as to why the claim can’t be verified on State sites, those of us who knew these two wouldn’t dream of doubting them.

Cora Burdick contributed many memories to Hampton Remembers, and though she didn’t write of her family’s farm, there was little else regarding town life that escaped her commentary.

On Fashion: When I came to Hampton in 1923 they kind of wore things the way they should be. The skirts were twelve inches above the floor and everybody had ‘em twelve inches. And then they went to fourteen – and I tell ya’ that was … When I was first married you didn’t wear short sleeves, you could roll them up just a little below the elbow and I remember an old lady asking me “what did you do, just get outa the washtub?”

On the Church: Mr. Muttart always had a time with names – he’d always say ‘em wrong I don’t know how many times – and Stanton Burdick and Charlotte Burdick and Malcolm Burdick and Sherman Chapel all joined the church at the same time. So he baptized them all as Burdick – you got the three Burdicks there – and Sherman has called me “Mother” ever since!

On the Grange: We had music, sketches and everything and why you know we’ve put on some programs that really, I tell ya’, they were really worth lookin’ at! … I remember one time as I read a poem Dot Holt and somebody else, I think it was Sim Fuller, came in as a horse. It was so ridiculous it brought the house down. It did go over – well, of course all those things do.

Malcolm and his family would continue to live on the farm, though the barn served new roles. An electronics instructor at Windham Tech, Malcolm used the space as a repair shop for the radios and televisions he fixed. The hayloft was converted into a sort of museum for his extensive collection of phonographs and old radios. A veteran of World War II, Malcolm served in the Signal Corp and was involved in the D-Day invasion of Normandy as a radio man; in that capacity, he recalled, he knew “something big was going on”, but he didn’t know what. Like many of his generation, he measured everything in relation to that era; all the events of his life fell before, or after, World War II.

For the last thirty years, Rob and Ann have revitalized the family farm. The chickens have returned to Utley Road where pigs are also raised and there’s “plenty of fresh vegetation… sun, shade and wallows”.  The chickens also reside at the two farms on Old Kings Highway, one where orchards are cultivated and another where cattle are raised. On Saturdays, the barn serves as a Farmer’s Market, reaping the harvest of all the crops grown, ushering in autumn with pumpkins and winter squash, baskets of onions and potatoes, ropes of garlic, bunches of carrots, turnips, rutabagas and beets, and bushels of apples. Spring begins in the barn with asparagus, then lettuces, kale, spinach, chard, broccoli and Brussels sprouts. Summer follows with cucumbers and corn and beans, summer squashes, tomatoes, eggplants and peppers, and fruit – blueberries, raspberries and watermelons. Bouquets of fresh flowers and fresh herbs scent the air. The farm is entirely organic, the fruits and vegetables are free of chemicals, the chickens supplying the eggs for sale are free-range, the pigs producing the pork products are raised on the left-overs of field and of table, and the cattle for the beef are grass-fed through the growing season and given the hay the family grows on the farm in winter.

Ann and Rob started selling the crops they grew on the farm in 1989 at local farmers’ markets until neighbors encouraged them to open a stand in Hampton. The barn opened its doors to customers in 2009.  Though Full Moon Farm is open on Saturdays, from ten in the morning to three in the afternoon, a new feature this year is the conversion of the milk shed into a convenient, self-service “Hit or Miss” stand so residents can access fresh food daily.

“Our farm stand was incubated when Bob Garner saw us unloading boxes of produce at the Willimantic food co-op,” Rob relayed. “He approached us and asked why we were taking all that fresh Hampton produce out of town. He insisted it stay in Hampton. Then Tom Gaines started pressuring us to open a roadside stand. Both families have continued to support it.”

Full Moon Farm is a family endeavor.  Committed to organic food, sustainable agriculture, and “keeping open space, open,” Ann and Rob are responsible for the produce, the cattle and the pigs. Rob has a long history of farming; like many of us, his family cultivated lots of vegetables. Though Ann’s childhood didn’t include raising crops, her early philosophy of “building a socially conscious and successful business” is universally well known, for “Smart Food”, the start of her enterprises, the expansion of products in “Annie’s Homegrown”, and, of course, “Bernie”, who for years has provided “the rabbit of approval” seal.

Their daughter Molly manages the produce and runs the farm stand on Saturdays. Graduating in 2020 from the University of Vermont where she studied Community Development and Food Systems, Molly is also in charge of the chickens and their eggs and raises sheep. “As Molly transitions into running the operation,” her father notes, “we’re seeing people from her generation showing an interest in food.” Their daughter Phoebe, a student at Eastern Connecticut State University studying Biochemistry, provides homemade baked goods – delicious brownies and cookies and fresh scones and muffins using berries grown on the farm.

The newest member of the family farm is Trent Hagerty, who contributes Sourdough Porridge Bread from the “Boulangerie a Full Moon Farm”, fabulous loaves of hard red wheat flour, organic spelt, oats and rye, sprouted quinoa and salt, delivered warm. Trent has a history with artisan breads. He and his mother sold loaves of the famous French Baker, Gerard Rubaud, at a Vermont Farmer’s Market when Trent was a child. He committed that taste to memory. Later, Trent apprenticed with another revered Vermont baker, Trent Cooper, who had apprenticed under Rubaud.  Trent now works at Atticus Bakery in New Haven, which also uses “freshly milled whole grains regionally sourced”. If you haven’t treated yourself yet to Trent’s loaves, you’re missing something really special.

Full Moon Farm also promotes other products from town, such as Bright Acres’ maple syrup, A & Z Honey, Shelly Blair’s jewelry and crafts, and Gary Freed’s handmade soaps.  “We don’t see this as at all competitive, but rather co-operative. There are other agricultural products all over town,” says Rob. “We all heard of empty shelves at supermarkets when Covid began, and we’re lucky to have local food systems in place as backup.” Sam Fisher considers Rob, who offered assistance when his family started Organic Roots Farm, “a mentor, he still checks on us regularly.”

Neighborliness is a palpable part of the farm. “Always one of the nicest things about this stand has been the gathering of townspeople and everyone seems to leave their politics in the parking lot and focus on the food and of course the weather,” Rob says. “Seeing folks with opposing political views discussing recipes or tomato varieties is comforting.”

Fortunately for townsfolk, that hasn’t changed either.

Dayna McDermott Arriola

“Hampton Remembers”, by Alison Davis, is available on Amazon and at Fletcher Memorial Library.

The demise of the Little River Grange is almost assuredly my fault, the consequence of what must have been a PTSD-inducing event for all of the then members. I certainly didn’t intend any harm – heck, I was only 13 at the time and just wanted to be part of the fun – although I’m not sure that is exculpatory. I leave it to you to judge whether I deserve the mantle of Grange-Buster.

My family and I moved into Hampton just in time for me to start 7th grade at Hampton Elementary School. Our house was two doors down from the school which meant that I walked to school and that my mother made me come home for lunch, something I felt was grievously unfair at the time. The saving grace, however, was that the Grange was in-between our house and the school and that allowed me to keep tabs on upcoming events. And so it was that I attended almost every one of the Grange-sponsored Chicken… or Spaghetti… or whatever the flavor-of-the-month dinner theme was. I relished the different tasting food, the hub-bub of conversations atop the clanging of plates and silverware, and most of all, the square dancing.

The seismic event – the one that I’m certain began the downhill slide for Grange membership – was the annual Halloween event. I was 13, I think, and too old (at least in my mind) for a “kids costume” so I went rogue and opted to dress as a woman. My mom helped – as she always conjured up the energy to – and dyed a string mop bright yellow to serve as a wig. She also donated a dress – a shiny blue one as I recall – and some “sensible” modestly-heeled red shoes that I squeezed my feet into. (My life-long belief that women’s shoe fashions are a form of misogyny was formed in this moment.) A little makeup and some coaching on how to walk in heels and how to sit with a dress on and I was ready to make an entrance. And, boy, did I ever make an entrance.

The awareness of self evolves as we age, I think. We start off with no self-identity whatsoever, emerging slowly as we work through our single-digit years, and then comes the Chernobyl-like hormone factory explosion we call our teen years when it seems that the magnifying glass of the world’s opinion has focused on us with the searing sunlight rays we once reserved for ants on the sidewalk. We panic in the knowledge that the only thing people can see is the zit on our forehead, the ever-present cowlick, the squeaky pitch of our changing voices. I crossed the Rubicon that Halloween night, suddenly smoldering under my newly-minted self-consciousness.

Hamptonites – gentle by nature and tolerant of the many peccadillos we frail humans possess – weren’t prepared for the spectacle of a 13-year-old cross-dresser invading their midst. You can be sure they made a wide berth as I stomped around the Grange Hall in my red high heels affecting the girlyest soprano I could muster. It was, as the saying goes, a night that will live on in infamy. And, despite my exploding self-consciousness, I managed to have a rollicking good time.

I don’t recall that any pictures were taken that night. I have to believe that, if there were any, they are safely stored away, only to be published if I run for elected office again. The real damage, of course, had already been done: once I’d seared the senses out of my assembled partygoers, the reputation and the collective memory of the Little River Grange and its members had been sullied forever, setting the stage for its inevitable demise. And so it is that I am saddled with the burden and mantle of the Grange-Buster. I can only pray for your forgiveness, lo these many years gone.

Kit Crowne

Kit Crowne continues to amuse us with stories of growing up in Hampton. We appreciate them immensely, and urge everyone to send us yours.

Dear Auntie Mac,

One of the things I was grateful for after moving here was that I could walk safely in preserves and on roads during the pandemic. I walk all seasons and all times, dawn, dusk, and midnight, so I was very disturbed by a Facebook post on a Hampton public forum complaining that late night walks on Main Street are bizarre and suspicious and that no one has a reason, or the right, to walk on Main Street late at night! There were suggestions of calling the police, or worse fates for the walker.  Dozens of residents wrote of their own night walks, and the supposed “culprit” (a neighbor who’s lived here for decades and works nights in a local hospital) replied with a friendly explanation.  Instead of relief, the complainer’s response was defensive! I don’t want to get shot, arrested, or publicly chastised for walking at night in this town. Should I invite this person on a midnight stroll? To help them appreciate another advantage of living in a town like Hampton?

A Night Walker, not a Night Stalker

My Dear Neighbor:

We live in unprecedented times, do we not? Even if we grew up in larger towns than Hampton, most of us remember being able to prowl our neighborhoods at any hour, whether out for a stargazing stroll, tending to the nocturnal needs of a Schnauzer, or slinking across the lawn hopefully unnoticed to crawl back through one’s bedroom window…but I digress. A degree of criminal behavior has shown itself recently in town, it is true. Your question asks us to weigh community safety against assumed liberties, with both of these concepts being mercurial in their ability to be defined the same way by any two people. One can, for example, imagine any number of scenarios in which the very citizen who believed that no good can come from being out after midnight might find him or herself. A lost cat. A martini-fueled party in which prudence dictated that the car stay put. An urgent call from a neighbor. And what of the dawn hours, haunted by pre-work joggers and the aforementioned Schnauzer?

The truth is, my fellow residents, day or night, no one is ever completely safe. One could be happily clipping roses in the sunny garden and be felled by a random shard of jet fuselage. We do what we can, then, to ensure our own well-being, extending our individual protections as far as our comfort dictates. But these limits are personal and subjective.

Our impulse to protect others is noble. However, to raise alarms because we see someone where we believe they “should” not be, at an hour we deem inappropriate, is to invite into a community a creeping paranoia and soulless fortress mentality that is at best unhealthy and at worst spiritually draining. We Hamptonites, however new to the area, are intuitive and perceptive enough to differentiate the wayward criminal from the after-hours stargazer. I urge you, dear, to protect yourself and your home to the extent that you feel comfortable, and respond to each subsequent neighborhood anomaly thoughtfully. Auntie Mac understands the temptation to leap on the “Terror Strikes Tiny Hamlet!” bandwagon. Do not allow an artificially-induced hysteria to cloud your own rational observations.

You have made an excellent suggestion: to graciously invite the concerned neighbor on an evening walk with you to see that evenings are for many people the ideal times to enjoy our lovely town. Footpads and scallywags roam the nightly byways, to be sure, but they are far outnumbered by the level-headed citizens who can identify and dispatch them with alacrity. Please try to enjoy the rest of this wonderful season with as few worries as possible—goodness knows, we all deserve that.

Auntie Mac

Returning home from a walk, a portrait stops me: our stonewall underlines the scene, still warm with the summer drapery of hydrangea vine and the skirt of dark green ferns; a curved branch of burning bush starting to color — later it will flame the hills, yet now, it’s only this subtlest trace of crimson; the arch of dogwood ‘Wolf Eyes’, sage green frosted with cream, flushed with a hint of pink; the purpling in the distance of another, larger dogwood; the red maple, one limb among its russet a brilliant scarlet flame; bright orange berries on the viburnum and the mountain ash; nearer, the oak leaf hydrangea’s olive leaves, slightly infused with wine; and another, flecks of its creamy panicles, tassels ripening on the grasses around it. It is a perfect picture of a perfect September afternoon, only lightly kissed with the taste of autumn.

If I were in the market for a home, scenes like this would help persuade me. As important as the house itself, for me, is the nature surrounding it. Perhaps more so. People select properties for different reasons. Hampton houses are selling like hot cakes – and the main attraction is simply space. After experiencing the pandemic in crowded areas, many urban dwellers want to live where there’s literally more room to breathe. Even though it’s an ideal time to sell, there are measures that increase the price, and landscaping is one of them. In a competitive housing market, landscaping distinguishes a property from others, and increases the value an estimated five to fifteen percent, depending on the extent. Average landscaping expenses ranging from $3,000 to $20,000, which could include installation of lawn, paving, trees and shrubs, as well as construction of decks, patios, walls and fences, result in a far greater return, at a significantly less cost, than renovations even to bathrooms and kitchens. And unlike most home improvements, the value of the investment increases over time as landscape elements mature.

Surveys indicate design sophistication escalates the value of the property, so consulting with a landscape architect is well worth the expense.  They are the experts on installing features that are simple and affordable while appearing professional and established. Peruse books, websites and magazines on landscape design, or drive around to find what you consider attractive on other people’s properties. Don’t make drastic and unnecessary alterations to please someone else, though. People are looking for specific things. Just like the criteria applied to the interior of the house – the amount of bedrooms, the size of the baths, a fireplace – people are interested in certain outdoor features  – a garage, a barn, a tool shed, a deck.  A pool is a plus for some owners, a liability for others.

After design sophistication, maturity is the second factor that escalates the value of the property, though homeowners can’t compensate entirely for this component. Large trees are astronomically expensive, yet it’s surprising how quickly certain varieties grow. Don’t hesitate in their purchase – trees are always a wise investment, and fall is an optimum time to plant them. And if young trees are well placed, it’s easy to imagine the eventual contribution they’ll make to the lawn. Mature shrubbery will also increase the worth of the property, especially where it forms a border. Shrubs, which also grow rapidly, are an effective, inexpensive and attractive method of ensuring privacy. If your yard already hosts mature trees and shrubs, you’re fortunate. Always work with what you have. If a tree’s limbs have become gangly, trim them; if a hedge has become choked with weeds, remove them. The rejuvenation after these simple repairs is extraordinary.

Maintenance extends to hardscaping as well. Driveways and walkways should be navigable and safe.  Elements such as decks and fences are liabilities if they’re in rough condition. These features, when new or preserved, are what elevate the landscape and make it unique – a charming split rail fence delineating the lawn, a deck extending the living space, a stonewall, even a small one, always a wise investment for its endurance and naturalness, especially in New England — they’re always in style and the return is substantial. After all of our efforts and costs in landscaping to our ultimate satisfaction, the stonewall built hundreds of years ago along the front of our property is still the most valuable component of the yard.

When you’re showing the property, make sure that the yard, like the interior of your house, is neat. Not manicured — for that implies a labor intensive fussiness – just tidy. Remove unsightly items, discarded tools and toys and other things that tend to accumulate in the process of moving. Deal with dead trees in the yard, particularly if they pose an imminent threat to the house. No one wants to rid their property of something the minute they purchase it.

Lastly, include seasonal interest that’s visible on entry. The scene I described in the beginning of the article lasted only two weeks, however other plant portraits replaced it. When designing a landscape, plan seasonally. And when the house is on the market, sprucing it up with what’s in season — autumn pumpkins and chrysanthemums, winter wreaths, window boxes and baskets of spring pansies — increase the charm and the hominess immeasurably.

Even if you’re not selling your house, it’s nice to consider the view of it – it’s the first impression visitors have. Our stonewall set the tone for us — a little mystery is always an attractive feature, and catching a glimpse of the lawn and the house through this stalwart stone fence is part of the property’s allure. We’ve exploited its prominence, incorporating stone throughout the landscape – for the sake of unity and necessity alike – in patios and paths, retaining walls, boulders, tumbles of rocks. Early in spring daffodils ramble in front of it, then azaleas burst above it, in summer hydrangea’s lace spills across the stones, in autumn, that scene described earlier fully realizes fall’s glory in the foliage crowning the stonewall, and in winter, the lamp post it hosts will glow gently against the snow, echoed in lanterns suspended from the crab apple’s branches, and candles in the windows, imparting warmth, a lit path, an invitation.

I wrote an article about invasive species here in Connecticut a few years ago.  But we get new invasive species, so this is an article about the latest invasive animal.

Had lunch with a friend about a month ago, and she had the strangest story to tell. She lives in Lebanon and frequently hikes around the Lebanon town green. She reported seeing something red walking in the green. She approached it. To her it looked something like a red lobster, and as she got closer to it, it came after her! She ran away. I hadn’t seen this friend in some time because of the pandemic.  So I wondered if she was having vision problems. I asked her to pass me the salt, and she did not pass me the pepper, so at least she can still tell black from white. No one sitting around the lunch table had any idea of what she saw. Not long after that I saw an article about this new beast in two different state newspapers. The critter’s name?  Red swamp crayfish. This crayfish is invasive and highly aggressive. No wonder my friend ran away from it. It is native to Louisiana and has come to Connecticut because people would buy a huge shipment of live crayfish for a big meal and then release the ones they didn’t need to cook. My husband was a minister, and I remember one wedding he did where the bride was from Connecticut, and the groom was from Louisiana. The groom had a big shipment of these crayfish shipped up for the wedding reception. They were really yummy.  Of course, they were cooked so the issue of their aggression never came up.

The invasion of red crayfish reminds me of what people have done to the Everglades in Florida. People in Florida silly enough to buy baby pythons just don’t know what to do with them when they grow up into giant snakes. They have driven them to the Everglades in order for the snakes to live in the wild. What they didn’t expect is that a giant snake would eat a lot of the native birds and animals, plus they make lots more baby snakes that grow up into giant snakes. This has become a major problem for wildlife in the Everglades.

The moral of this article is to not let loose into your own local environment a species from a place very far away, because not only might it survive, but it might compete with the locals. I wonder if this is true for Yankees who marry redneck southerners and then bring their new spouse to New England!

Angela Hawkins Fichter

Suzanne J. LaFleur, 53, of Hampton, passed away on September 6, 2021. She had dealt courageously for a number of years with an aggressive Stage IV breast cancer. She is survived by: her husband, Preston Britner; her children, Samuel, Serena, and Colin Britner; her parents, William and Joyce LaFleur; and, her brothers, Mark and Brian LaFleur, and their families.    

Suzanne was born in Norwich and grew up in Ledyard. She was a graduate of Ledyard High School and the College of the Holy Cross (Phi Beta Kappa). She earned her Ph.D. in Psychology at the University of Virginia, where she met her loving husband of 27 years. From 1996 to 2021, she taught at Smith College and then at the University of Connecticut. She most recently also served as the Director of Faculty Development in the Center for Excellence in Teaching and Learning at UConn. A resident of Main Street since 1998, she was a parishioner of Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church and a dedicated volunteer for many organizations, including Hampton Elementary School and the School Readiness Council.      

Suzanne was exceptionally devoted to her three children, and they meant the world to her. Among many interests, she loved reading novels, watching the Red Sox, walking at Trail Wood, teaching, playing with her cats, watching mindless and/or British television, spending time with family and friends, and supporting her children’s academic, artistic, and athletic endeavors. She was known to her friends in town as a kind, smart, beautiful, witty, and generous person.    

Barbara Ladd passed away on September 21, 2021. Born on October 29, 1928 in Hackensack, New Jersey, she graduated from Trenton State Teacher’s College in 1951 and taught Kindergarten for ten years. During those years she and her room-mate traveled extensively in the U.S. and abroad.  In 1958 she married Donald Ladd and entered the antique business with him. They both loved old houses and were intrigued enough by the “Bennett” house on South Bigelow Road to drive to Hampton from New Jersey. They also discovered Hampton Village and the Mosley house on Main Street. It needed extensive restoration to become the showcase it is now. There were others needing this skilled labor, including the Cleveland House and the Parsonage. Barbara was Don’s trusted and knowledgeable advisor. They continued to deal in antiques, attending and exhibiting in antique shows throughout the northeast.

After Don’s death in 2002, Barbara moved to Mansfield but still kept her booth in the Sturbridge group shop – she loved going to antique shows in Hartford, Tolland, and Brooklyn. She was active in the DAR, a member of the Senior Center and the Red Hat Society. Barbara is survived by her niece Leslie and nephew Brock. She was a gracious hostess, loved to entertain, displaying her beautiful china, crystal and décor. You were in luck if she made her famous apple pie or apricot torte! Above all, she LOVED her CATS. Memorial donations may be made to the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

Education has always been important in Hampton. Twenty-three years prior to our town’s 1786 incorporation, school districts were formed — Appaquag, Rawson, Boston Hollow, Bigelow, Howard Valley, Clark’s Corner and Hampton Hill – and seven one-room schoolhouses were built, each serving students in grades one through eight. Though a 1927 Town resolution rejected the notion of consolidation, shortly afterwards only three remained – Bell School for primary grades, Clark’s Corners for fourth and fifth, and Center School for grades six, seven and eight.

The era of the one-room schoolhouse ended in 1950 with the construction of the Consolidated School. A Building Committee convened, a nine member Board of Education was elected, and land was donated to build what would become the only wooden school in the state, serving the town’s students for 41 years. Major changes included a cafeteria, a playground, and, of course, plumbing. Though there were rooms for every class, the student population didn’t merit separating the grades. Lois Woodward taught grades one and two, Viola Fitzgerald, grades three through five, and Stuart Haskell taught grades six through eight and served as the school principal. As enrollment grew, the entire school became utilized. Primary grades occupied the south part of the building. Older students were in the north portion, in the upper and lower level, which also housed the auditorium where we watched movies and performed on the stage. This space also served daily as the cafeteria and sometimes doubled as a gymnasium. The kitchen was where it is now, and not much larger. There was a nurse’s office across from the primary grades, and the principal’s office and teachers’ room were behind the stage. Stately elms lined the front lawn, and the flag pole remains in its original position, though without the World War II Memorial; hoisting the flag every morning was an honor. In time, the student population and educational programs expanded. Kindergarten was mandated by the State.  The stage became the school library – prior to that we walked to Fletcher Memorial weekly. An art room and special classes started to occupy spaces, and a portable classroom became necessary, consuming a portion of the playground.  In 1991, a new school was built a mile north, and the consolidated school became the Town Hall.

Our collective memories of the school are astonishingly clear. Kathleen Fitzgerald, who was among the first students to attend transferring from Clarks Corners in fifth grade, shared her memories of students and staff; and the graduation program featured on Hampton Remembers the 2nd Half of the 20^th Century, the source of most of this information, proved her accuracy nearly 70 years later. Kathleen’s Aunt Viola was her teacher, her Aunt Sadie was the school’s cook, and her father, Ed Fitzgerald, was the bus driver.

That’s a small town!

What most of us readily remember is recess. There were morning, lunch, and afternoon recesses. We also utilized the ball fields after dismissal and on weekends. “The playgrounds were all open and we took advantage of it. Tackle football on the top field,” Susan Latimer Perez recalled. “I played until around 7^th grade when I, and probably a couple others, went to tackle Randy Thompson and he ripped off his sweatshirt, literally ripped it off, and continued running. I thought that was beyond my skill set.”

“Mrs. Grant was the recess aide when I was there. She was so nice and friendly to us kids,” Becky Burelle Gagne wrote. “We used to play on the swings of course, and the monkey bars, but loved to play hop scotch and jump rope, too. We’d also play games like Tag and Red Rover.” Old-fashioned games like these and “One, Two, Three Red Light!” and “Mother May I?” were favorites, but we were not entirely immune from cultural influence and I remember playing “Bat Man” at recess, with Brock Squires in the title role and Donnie Moore as “Robin”. The girls drew straws for “Cat Woman”.

We also enjoyed the playground equipment. “I remember the awesome slide. It was so high and fast in those days,” Carol MacKinnon Lavoie recalled, and Lisa Chapman Studor added, “We would save our milk cartons and rub the wax off of them onto the slide.” Attesting to the slipperiness, Debbie Fuller shared, “On my first day of first grade, I broke my wrist on a rock at the bottom of the slide.” Now that’s memorable!  “The slide was tall, or at least seemed tall. Kids would shimmy up the anchor polls, or once up the stairs, shift around to slide down the poles,” Susan wrote. “There were two sets of smaller swings on the other side of the slide. I would wear shorts under my dress (girls had to wear dresses and skirts to school) so I could hang upside down on the cross bars. The big swings where I thought I might touch the moon if I just could pump a little harder, and then the chains would buckle to bring me back to my earthly reality.”

“Our school had the best swings,” Alma Pearl Graham agreed. “You could really go high on them. We would swing, then jump off.”

Kathy Thompson relayed that when the Town Hall was planning to scrap those swings, her brother Randy rescued them, shortened them, and they’re now at Keith and Brandy Crawford’s house where they’re still used.

In winter, we built snowmen and colossal snow forts. “I loved making trails in the snow and playing Fox and Geese”, Debbie recalled. And the slopes at the school strongly suggested sledding. “During winter we would bring our sleds to school and slide down the hill. If you had a great ride, then you stopped just shy of the stone wall,” Susan wrote. “There was an accident in which one child ran over the arm of another child, breaking the child’s arm.” The policy on sledding during school was changed after that, “A tragedy,” Scott Johnson lamented.

Neal Moon recalled playing touch football, Arlene Becker, soccer, Joey Ameer remembered basketball, Tadria Pawlikowski Milhomme, kickball, and I remember dodge ball. But all of us remember playing baseball. Boys and girls played together, and teams were selected swiftly to make the most of our time on one of the fields. “Coke, Lee and I went home for lunch and then we all raced back to claim the field near the grange for softball games,” Sandy Reynolds wrote. “Girls and boys played, but I think Susie Loew was the best softball player and everyone had a lot of fun!”

“During recess, I had slid head first into second base ripping my dress halfway around the waistband,” Susan remembered. “Pinned it back together until I went home at lunch to change clothes. Lunch home was always nice. I was able to take my bike or walk to and from school.” Though several students lived near enough to walk home for lunch, many remember the lunches served in the cafeteria and the cook, Mrs. Lee. When we were in first grade, she used to let us lick the cake bowls during morning recess! Imagine that!

“I have so many memories of her,” John Osborn wrote. “Probably my best was how we sat on the edge of our seats waiting for her to call ‘seconds!’ She worked this gift for us in a kitchen that was, in reality, a small closet.”

“She lived at the end of Old Route 6 East,” Louis Chatey relayed. “I would see her drive up Hampton Hill every morning in her little white Studebaker filled with large pans in the back, as I think she did a lot of the prep work at home the evening before.”

“On days when the menu consisted of something I didn’t like,” Karen Loew Gambolati recalled, “Mrs. Lee would sneak me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich so I had something for lunch. She was so good to us.” Though she can’t recall, legend has it that Karen christened our collective favorite lunch: Hampton Burgers. “She took the bottom half of the roll, put a dollop of butter and then a hamburger patty on top. This went under the broiler where the top of the hamburger cooked but not always the underside so some days it was a little like eating hamburger tartare,” Louis explained. “But you know that probably bolstered our immunity so here we are 50 years later posting our memories in the middle of a pandemic.”

The cafeteria also served as an auditorium where vintage projectors displayed movies on an enormous screen some Saturdays. The stage was used for graduations and performances, including full-scale musicals.  “More than one teacher accused my class of being ‘bad actors’,” Al Freeman remembered.  In The Pirates of Penzance Mark Davis was the Major General, and “to my parents’ amazement, he had all the words and music down pat,” Beth Davis Powning relayed. “I was ‘the very model of a modern Major General’, Mark confirmed. “But that’s all I can remember now!” There were also dances on the weekends, and lessons after school, Ball Room dancing with Miss McFarland and Evelyn’s School of Dance. Kathy Thompson relayed that the “dig step, dig step, back, forth” that Miss Evelyn repeated through ‘Poison Ivy’, “stuck with me forever.”

Most memorable to us — the teachers. I remember Mrs. Flaherty, my first grade teacher, vividly. She was beautiful — her shoes were always dyed to match her dresses! Mr. Paradise was a favorite, though most everyone was remembered fondly.

Miss Kivela. I remember she used to wear nice mohair sweaters, was friendly, and I learned so much from her — likely the start of my desire to teach English.

Debbie Schenk Moshier

Grammar and writing are not my number one subjects, but I do remember much of what she taught us. She sure had a way of teaching.

Jeff Osborn

I recall Mr. Franklin as taciturn, a stern teacher and disciplinarian to be sure, but also someone whose abiding interest in nurturing us was always evident…I think that his was an impossible job – full-time teacher plus principal of the school…certainly no one in their right mind would take on those dual responsibilities in these progressive times. Then, again, no one in their right mind would lock themselves in a room full of 8th graders.

Kit Crowne

Mr. Franklin was my favorite teacher and so was his red volkswagon that I got a ride home in one day when I got into a fist fight with a classmate. Since that incident with a boy Mr. Franklin was my best friend! He drove me home to tell my parents what had happened, but loved the fact that I wouldn’t put up with any nonsense and stood up for myself!

Carol Dauphin Kilburn

I had Mr. Orlando in 4^th grade. I remember we used to pick dandelions at recess time for him to make dandelion wine. I think we may have gotten an extra recess at times to do the same.

Karen Loew Gambolati

For 6^th grade we had Mrs. Lunden as a teacher. My classmates and I worked on a mosaic of tiny colored tile. I think we made a picture of the school. We dedicated it to Mr. Ellsworth, the principal. It was in the front entrance.

Mary Blankenship

Mrs. Maker and Alison Davis made a dynamic team with over 30 kinders in a small room on the lower level. So much busyness, so much noise! Still don’t know how they did it!

Mary Oliver

I remember in Mrs Bingham’s 3rd grade, she taught us how to make butter in a jar with cream and let us all take turns shaking. I’m not sure how long Mrs. Bingham was there. But it must have been a very long time. All eight of us Burelles had her.

Becky Burelle Gagne

Who didn’t love Mrs. Bingham?

John Osborn

Students return this September with masks and social distancing and arguments all over the news as to Covid mandates in schools. They are living history, and might not imagine that decades from now, future generations will ask – what was it like? They’ll remember – and teachers — mostly they’ll remember you. Here’s to your success – all of you — and to your health.