“Spanish Flu” is not written on any death certificates recorded at Town Hall from February 1918 to April 1920; however, the era’s listings of “alcoholism”, “senility”, “old age”, and in one instance, “sudden”, as the cause of death, were replaced with the words “pneumonia” and “pulmonary congestion”. Certainly townsfolk lost loved ones, as so many of us have.

Generations from now children will ask – what was it like? There are such varied repercussions of shut-downs and social distancing, and such varied reactions for those with Covid, yet everyone who has contracted it will tell you that, even in the mildest cases, the uncertainty is what’s so frightening. Imagine how uncertain they were in 1918. During this pandemic, we relied upon experts – Dr. Fauci has become a household name. The conditions and advice are more sanitary and practical than warnings against “spitting on the sidewalks”, and we have a vaccine. A hundred years ago, people relied on common sense, homemade remedies, the herb garden, and “the Country Doctors” we feature in this month’s “Rural Heritage”.

Dr. John Brewster, though not as famous as his son, a prominent portraitist, was the town’s first doctor. Dr. Brewster started tending to the medical needs of residents in 1755. Folklore and Firesides lists the succession of physicians who followed: Drs. Houlton and Hovey (1829); Dr. Hughes (1830-1881) who “made his rounds on horseback with his pillboxes in saddle-bags” for a fee of “twelve and a half cents” per call; Dr. Potter (1845-1862), a “botanic doctor”; Dr. George Avery (1863); Dr. Warner (1871); Dr. Hazen ((1874-5), an “eclectic”; Dr. Gardener (1876-84): Dr. Dunham (1886); Dr. Converse (1886-91); and Dr. Bannister (1893 – 5).

Dr. Spencer tended to residents from 1895 to 1910, though there was speculation as to whether or not he was trained. From Hampton Remembers: “A persistent rumor claims Dr. Spencer as a doctor with no formal training who learned whatever he knew from working as a driver for a doctor in Providence. Apparently for a long time no one suspected he might not be a regular doctor and he took care of the town for years.” At the turn of the century, midwives were relied upon to help deliver babies, and “bed-side manner” mattered.

My mother Jennie Hopkins – I don’t know how many babies she helped deliver and many she delivered herself when the doctor didn’t get there. So many times when I see somebody I think “Well, I remember when you were born.” 

Lucy Lewis from “Hampton Remembers”

Though babies were delivered in their family’s homes – we have two residents, Gloria Burell and Jane Marrotte, who still sleep in the rooms they were born in – there was at one point, reportedly, some sort of a “medical facility”.

At one time the house just north of the store used to be a kind of hospital or nursing home. The owner of the building, Mr. Guild, was very good at caring for sick people although he himself was not a doctor.
Ethel Edwards from “Hampton Remembers”

Dr. Avery, who served from 1903 to 1907, was remembered mainly for owning the first automobile in Hampton.

Dr. Avery had the first car in town. It was made like a buckboard with the dashboard up in front and one seat, with the engine under it, and all open in back. You steered it with a lever the way a kid pulls back the handle of his wagon towards him and steers with it. I got permission from my parents and then I got to ride in the back – my first ride in a car.

John Hammond from Hampton Remembers

Reportedly, the vehicle attained a speed of twelve to fifteen miles an hour in dry weather, but the good doctor relied on his horse and buggy to make his rounds in the rain. Regardless, the purchase was, according to Evelyn Estabrooks, “an exciting event for the town.”

Aside from his military service in World War I, Dr. Arthur Marsh was Hampton’s physician from 1912 until his retirement. According to Kathy Thompson, who resides in the Main Street home where Dr. Marsh lived and worked, the front room served as the office where he examined patients. A dedicated doctor, he made his rounds with his horse and buggy and walked if necessary for house calls. In a 1985 Gazette article, George Fuller reported that “Dr. Marsh walked in a storm to attend his birth at his home in the valley.”

On May 3, 1922, the town showed their appreciation to Dr. Marsh and his bride upon their return from a Mediterranean cruise with a reception at the Chelsea Inn.

Nearly two hundred people were present. During the evening a musical program was enjoyed and refreshments were served. A mahogany clock with cathedral chimes and a sum of money in gold were presented to them. Hampton did well to unite so strongly and so willingly to show her interest in her doctor and his bride.

The Hampton Church Review, June 1922

Dr. Marsh was very active in the community, serving as Town Clerk and Treasurer in 1923. He was instrumental in establishing our local American Legion, and on Memorial Day, the Post recognizes Hampton students for good citizenship with the Marsh-Chesters Award, named for two of its charter members. Dr. Marsh was also known for his sense of humor. Austin Emmoms in a 1992 Gazette article recalled singing Christmas carols to townsfolk. “Dr. and Mrs. Marsh came out to greet us, and the minister asked if they had any request,” to which Dr. Marsh replied, “Please don’t sing ‘It Came Upon a Midnight Clear’!”

Dr. Moritz Jacobsohn moved here from New York City in 1955 to retire, according to his grand-daughter Margaret Loew.  Once folks found out he was a doctor, they started coming to him, she said. He never turned a patient away. He was honored posthumously in Germany with a Promenade in Marienfelde, a suburb of Berlin, where he served as the town’s physician until the Nazis revoked his license in 1938. According to a 1991 Gazette article, during the ceremony he was remembered as a “real country doctor”, who did not charge patients who could not pay and who “delivered babies under all conditions, in a potato field, behind a stone wall, on a kitchen table.”

Here in Hampton he’s remembered for “making house calls” and “gluing us back together after accidents”. Peggy Fox relayed that her children thought of him as a Grandfather, and Claire Winters recalled a Thanksgiving house call, stating, “He wasn’t only a doctor, but a friend.”  He also delivered several of us – Dorothy and Carolyn Fox, Becky Stocking, June Pawlikowski, Lois Ann Wade, and me. (He was a very good friend of Albert Einstein and I think that’s what accounts for how smart we all are.)

Though his practice was in Abington, remembrances (such as the mercurochrome faces he drew on your arm prior to administering the shot) are abundant of:

Dr. Bruce R. Valentine

My Hampton childhood provided a series of experiences with this larger than life man. After numerous trips to the Abington Eliza F. Clark Memorial Clinic for everything from broken bones, flu, sinusitis, abrasions and cuts among many others we became more than acquainted. As the head of the OB/GYN department of Day Kimball Hospital, he also delivered a number of my peers. We had class trips there for reasons I can’t remember but class trips were always good times regardless of why.

One of my more memorable encounters with Dr. Valentine was in about 1965 when I was about 14 and my parents were away and we were under the supervision of my dear grandmother who no longer drove. I was in the garage with an unnamed (for his protection) friend throwing darts. In those days there was a church dartball league and the darts used were much bigger than normal darts. So as we were throwing these darts I felt a thud on the left side of my head and heard a gasp from my friend.  As I reached up, I quickly realized that a dart was stuck in my head. It didn’t hurt but was really stuck in my skull and I couldn’t get it out. A quick call and Eleanor Moon came racing over in her Rambler and took me to the Abington Clinic.

I was feeling very foolish, especially since I could almost hear the wind whistling through the feathers of the dart as I walked.  As I entered the clinic, the nurse took one look at me, and with a very weird look picked up the phone and said to Mrs. Valentine, “Virginia, send the doc over. It’s one of the Osborn boys with another of those believe it or not cases.” I was instructed to go into his office and wait for him. As I sat there on a stool worrying about how this was going to go, in a short while the room became dark as his very large frame filled the doorway. I looked over and he was standing there in his overalls and rubber boots with his arms crossed and a look on his face that said way more than I could quickly interpret. I wisely said nothing and as he slowly shook his head, he finally said, “Do you guys stay up at night thinking this stuff up?” I thought I couldn’t feel more foolish until he muttered something like, “You could at least pulled it out.” I didn’t respond and he reached for the dart and was surprised that it didn’t budge. I felt a very slight amount of vindication. This could well have been a Norman Rockwell painting as he placed his foot against the leg of the stool and twisted and pulled the dart until it finally gave up its hold on my skull. He finally chuckled and said, “Oh good, I don’t see any brain matter coming out.”

This was only one of these discussions he and I had over the years while he stitched up wounds or fixed other things, whose cause I usually totally lied about.  There was no way I was going to tell him that it was due to us chucking rocks at each other or some other equally brilliant and well thought out endeavor.  I believe now he clearly knew the real reasons. It wouldn’t surprise me to find he had a diary with a vast list of really stupid reasons why kids needed his care. As mementos I have some very good examples of his sewing skills on my body. This was a man who I didn’t spend time with other than when I was in some distress and who never missed a chance to rib me but always showed love even after real evidence of my childish stupidity.

As I look back on that period in my life I realize that my experiences were all framed by wonderful caring people who gave us way more grace than we deserved. I also know we provided a few chuckles to them. Hampton life was about sharing life’s moments together, clearly something I couldn’t appreciate then but do now. 

John Osborn

Dr. John Woodworth set up his medical practice in Hampton in 1974 after an illustrious medical and military career, serving as a surgeon in World War II. “A true old fashioned family doctor,” Bill Johnson, who cared for his former patients, said in a Gazette article, which recognized Dr. Woodworth for his involvement in the town. A veteran who delivered the Memorial Day Address twice, he was on our editorial board for 22 years, on the stage of the Community Players, in the choir of the Congregational Church, and at Trail Wood, and “returned us briefly and blessedly to the era of the country doctor.”

Dayna McDermott

“In a year that stripped life to bare fundamentals,” a correspondent for the New York Times recently wrote, “the natural world has become our shared story.” It’s true. Tales of the animals in our lawns were a common topic — a happier one than politics and the pandemic — with photographs of wildlife circulating electronically. I don’t know if there were more feathered and furry visitors in our yard this year because there were fewer humans around, or simply that the time spent at home provided more opportunities to observe them, but as nature rejuvenated itself, healing in the absence of traffic and the accompanying pollutants, it seemed to rejuvenate in us a childlike curiosity and fascination with wildlife.

Rabbits were more abundant than we ever remember – and bolder, ignoring us entirely even when we were quite close. I recall one of Teale’s passages on the wariness of rabbits and suppose they sensed we were not threatening.  One of our columnists called them “terrorist rabbits” for their consumption of her flowers and escape from her traps, where they “ate the carrots and left thank you notes all without setting them off.” We didn’t have any difficulty with them in our gardens though — with all the clover and the dandelions we “cultivate” in our lawn, there was no need for them to venture into the dianthus or lettuces.

We were not so fortunate with the woodchuck(s) which burrowed underneath our gazebo and destroyed an entire garden in one night. Our gazebo is surrounded with wide gardens – visually an island floating in a sea of yellow and white flowers. While plumes of white astilbe and goatsbeard, stalks of ivory iris and yucca bells, saucers of buttery verbascum, trumpets of lemony lilies, mounds of golden chrysanthemums and clouds of chartreuse lady’s mantle swept across the southern portion, the garden to the north of the gazebo was a wasteland of stubbles and dirt – daisies and yarrows, coreopsis and primrose, boltonia and mulleins — scalped early in the season, never to recuperate. Next spring, we’ll chauffeur the woodchuck(s) to the forest prior to the emergence of flowers.

Our love for animals is not unconditional. We like skunks when their presence is only announced visually. Skunks are harmless, as long as one understands – they’re in charge. The surfeit of squirrels and chipmunks were fun to watch this fall, scurrying through the trees, as long as their harvest wasn’t forecasting a harsh winter. And deer. Since nature supplied plenty for them this year, they didn’t devour any of the garden’s buds. I never tire of the sight of a deer at the edge of the yard and will stare at them for as long as they stare at me, though I admit, I appreciate them more when they stay away from my flowers.

We welcomed a family of foxes all year. First the mother arrived in early spring, coming near to us in her completion of a circuit that started in the afternoon at our neighbor’s and returned in the evening. Little foxes followed later in the season. Theirs is a gruff bark, coarser than canines’, and they engaged with us some nights through the window in a “conversation”.  We watched the courtship of turkeys in spring, the males waltzing toward the females with tiny, minuet steps, chests forward and flaunting their full regalia, undeterred despite repeated rejection, their feathers splayed in magnificent arrays. In the summer, we observed rippling trails following the mothers, the flocks of fluffy little poults too small to be seen above the blades of grass.

Although we observed a bob cat early one morning, and we heard lots of coyotes in the valley nights, and we noticed plenty of suspicious footprints in our yard, we’ve yet to see one of the bears that have startled some of our neighbors, and we sometimes wonder how we would respond to their proximity. Some of our friends who have closely encountered bears report only a sense of awe – overwhelmed by the rich fur, the dark eyes, the chestnut muzzles, their beauty. Fear was not a factor.

Herons were more plentiful in swamps this year, their nests visible aloft the barren trees that rise from marshes like smoke stacks, long, slender trunks stripped of their branches, and hawks, perched on the forest’s pines, visible because of their size. The most impressive bird we saw was an eagle – alighting briefly in our lawn on a flight from Goodwin Forest to the Little River. But all birds impress us. We never turn from cardinals, orioles, blue birds, woodpeckers, chickadees. We scattered seed for them all winter, celebrated the return of spring’s robins, followed the journey of the hummingbirds all summer, the trumpet of the geese in the fall. The birds charted the seasons for us this year, along with the chorus of peep frogs that ushered in spring, and the orchestra of insects, autumn.  And while I always faithfully follow the trails of dragon flies and fire flies and butterflies, and grow flowers accordingly, this is the first year I spent hours observing the birth of spiders, hundreds of them, stirring, crawling, venturing cautiously along the slender, almost invisible, threads, spinning their way into the world.

I’ve always wished for the unfettered hours to simply witness wildlife, and I realized, this year, that all we really require is our own permission. In a year when the clock, and the clockwork, lost meaning, it wasn’t the worst way to spend time, or to measure it.

Dayna McDermott

Throughout the course of this year we’ve witnessed a mutual desire to reminiscence. “Our Rural Heritage” has proven to be a popular series, Alison Davis’s “Hampton Remembers” was re-published, and the page “Hampton Remembers the 2^nd Half of the 20^th Century” has attracted nearly 500 members.  This interest has prompted current and former residents to send information on what life was once like, which in turn has prompted us to provide a place where people can share their memories; we invite yours.

 Growing Up in Hampton

1936 – 1959

Life was so much simpler then with a population of less than 600. There was one General Store with the Post Office attached. I believe the store was owned by a Mr. Saunders. There may have been gas pumps there also, but I don’t remember them working. Hampton Hill Garage, run by Bob McDermott, was the place to go to. There was also, at the South end of town (may have been in Scotland) a store run by Mrs. Kemp. Later on, a store was built on Route 6 called Hampton Springs. George Meredith was the owner. He claimed to some that he was a brother to Burgess Meredith but to my knowledge, that was never confirmed. Our mailman was Reuben Pearl and our address was Route #1 Box 106.

The one room schoolhouse was the norm. My first four grades were at Bell School. Lois Richardson (Woodward) was the teacher. Then Clarks Corner reopened with grades 4 and 5. Next I went to Center School for 6, 7 and 8. That’s when Miss Ameer started the music curriculum. Hampton Consolidated School was completed, and I was among the first graduating class in 1950. The graduating class included Clyde Franklin, myself, Catherine Lamantia, Joyce Mason, Bobby Muise, Ellen Osborne, my cousin Arnie Pawlikowski and Evelyn Syphers. Then on to Windham High School.  I remember my cousin and I working for the Town of Hampton road crew. We were not quite 16, so Carl Jewett, Second Selectman, told us to get lost whenever the supervisor, Tommy Martin, came around. As I recall, the main crew were Maurice Caya, Frank Kenyon, Bernie Edwards and Frankie Pawlikowski.

The Grange Hall was the center for dances, receptions, and I remember the Down Homers, a country band that would perform there also. The Hampton Ambulance Corp was formed by Helen and Bert Waite. I was then 16 so I joined. I also joined the Hampton Fire Department. The fire house was on the corner of Old Route 6 and 97. The town bought a brand new 1953 American LaFrance to replace the 1927 fire truck. We were now big time. I could go on and on. Vince Scarpino’s barber shop, Dr. Marsh, with his practice out of his home, Howard Valley Fish and Game Club on Cemetery Road, Koski’s Game Farm – we raised pheasants to sell to the State, the Holsom bread man who came on Wednesday and Friday — Wednesday was special as he had jelly donuts. The milk man that would put the milk in our refrigerator when we were not at home…

I finished school and in 1959 Uncle Sam asked me to join him. Thus ended chapter one in my life, an unforgettable, enjoyable experience.

Bill Koski

Dear Auntie Mac,

Why are there still large political signs in town asking neighbors to vote for a certain presidential candidate? I tolerate pumpkins that collapse on steps weeks after Halloween, and Christmas lights that are still blinking on Valentines Day, but the political season has been over for more than two months. Enough! I thought there were ordinances that limit the size of signs and maybe make exceptions for the political ones? If so, is there a limit on the amount of time political signs can be posted? If not, perhaps there should be.

Signed,

A Republican

My Dear Neighbor:

Auntie Mac’s sainted mother (who, while not royalty, was called “The Baroness” by everyone including her children) decreed that Christmas decorations must come down on or before Three Kings’ Day, lest the family suffer an attack by evil elves. Those same elves would do well to be deployed in the case of political signage that has overstayed its welcome. Barring their absence, however (the elves, not the signs), Hampton possesses a comprehensive set of zoning regulations, which can be found on the Town website. Pages 46-47 of those regulations deal with both “temporary signs” and “political signs associated with public elections and referenda.” The latter are exempted from size limit, distance from the street, and the need for PZC approval in order to post them. Their “temporary” nature, however, necessitates that they “be removed when the activity has terminated.”

Auntie Mac suggests that if you would like, as they say in Dodge City, to take the matter into your own hands, you may alert the Zoning Enforcement Officer, Jay Gigliotti, who can be reached at 860-455-8251, cell 860-235-3570, or at zeo@hamptonct.org, and since as his title suggests, it is he who enforces zoning, you can make known to him the particular signage situations that are currently vexing. As these signs no longer serve as persuasion for a future event’s outcome, they stray into the realm of signage that is prohibited without PZC approval.

What Auntie Mac would hope, however, is that all citizens follow town regulations of their own volition, and courteously take down political signs soon after the respective event or election. This eliminates the need for municipal intervention, or more seriously, at least to the children of the Baroness, elf control.

Your Auntie Mac

“Share everything. Play fair. Put things back where you found them.”  These are among the essential life lessons listed in author Robert Fulghum’s 1986 “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten”.

The Gazette would like to recognize Maryellen Kania, who recently resigned from Hampton Elementary School after teaching kindergarten for 20 years. In this role, she has instilled in our children these and all the other important lessons. Friendly yet firm, enthusiastic yet calm, gentle and kind and above all, patient, Mrs. Kania possessed all the traits required to successfully educate the very young.

Early childhood learning experiences serve as the students’ initiation, laying the foundation for children’s education in terms of confidence, expectation, exploration, pride for the rest of their academic careers. The social skills children acquire – compassion, empathy, sharing — are essential to their continued success in school. In kindergarten wonder is encouraged, creativity is developed, curiosity is nurtured, and children’s acceptance of themselves and others, within the community, is embraced.

We thank Mrs. Kania for success in fulfilling these goals, for inspiring children to “live a balanced life – learn some and drink some and draw some and sing and dance and play and work every day some.”

Martin Luther King Jr.

Wouldn’t it be great if with just one clap everyone would be peaceful? The world is not normal anymore. I do know that at the United States capitol building, people were throwing things and breaking windows. I think Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would say, “why can’t we come together and make an agreement?” I think that part of Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream has come true because white and black girls and boys go to the same school, may take the same bus as well as come together as friends. The second part of his dream has not come true. It’s the part where we could have peace and harmony. Especially, no one would be killed or judged to be wrong because of the color of their skin. I wish that the second part of Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech would come true because then people would not be killed and our world would be a lot better.

Racheal McGuire

Let Freedom Ring

Let freedom ring where family members live and visit.

Let freedom ring from the long, beautiful river of Mississippi to Hampton, CT.

Let freedom ring from the lake houses of Tennessee to Orlando in the sunshine state of Florida.

Let freedom ring from the high mountains tops in New Hampshire to the national parks in Maine.

Let freedom ring.

Isabella F.

Let Freedom Ring

Let Freedom Ring from dirt bike race tracks.

Let Freedom Ring from the starting gate.

Dirt bike racing will always be here.

Let Freedom Ring from drifting in the dirt to climbing the hills.

Dirt bike racing is so fun.

Every single kid should try it.

Austin Waite

Let Freedom Ring

Let freedom ring the safety protocols around the world!

Let freedom ring for all the places we go with our masks.

Let freedom ring in hospitals!

Let freedom ring for doctors, nurses and patients!

Let freedom ring at the IGA store!

Let freedom ring for shoppers and the workers that give you samples.

Let freedom ring at gymnastics!

Let freedom ring for the teachers and my friends.

Let freedom ring in schools!

For all of us around the world…

Let freedom ring!

Brogan G.

I Have a Dream

I have a dream

that one day all the endangered animals will bring back their population.

I have a dream

that one day all the endangered animals’ Circle of Life will be restored

Where their babies will run free

but we will need help to make it happen.

With some help and courage

from the conservationists and everyone to stop littering.

We can do it.

We can restore the circle of life.

Olivia S.

I Have a Dream

I have a dream that there will be no covid-19 in your family.

That you will be able to be with your family,

In your family’s home

but, right now, you cannot be with them.

I have a dream that I will have fun with my family

That I will be able to celebrate with them and have shrimp.

Everyone likes to eat shrimp in my family a lot.

Because I love my family.

Kane B.  

I Have a Dream

I have a dream that everyone

Will have a better year all around the world

But, don’t forget, you have to try to succeed!

Aislynn H.

On November 28^th, the Family Cub Scout Pack gathered at Goodwin Forest for a one-mile Pack hike. They learned what it means to “be prepared” to hike, even in the rain, and had a most pleasant time. They examined nature as they went along and even found a treasure – a slug investigating a piece of bobcat scat!  Scout leaders agreed – it doesn’t get any better than that.

On November 21^st, twenty-five Scouts, leaders and friends of the BSA Troops rose before the crack of dawn to tackle the final leg of the Hiking Merit Badge, a monumental twenty-mile hike on two sections of the Air Line trail. One crew started at Pomfret Senior Center and hiked all the way to Goodwin Forest in Hampton for lunch and then back again.  A second crew walked from East Hampton through Colchester, Hebron, Columbia, Lebanon, and Windham, enjoyed lunch at the Raymond Brook Wildlife Area, and ended at the Railroad History Museum in Windham.  The picturesque journeys brought the Scouts not only along a waterfall, cattle pastures, and wetland marshes, but they also spotted an owl, a beaver, several snakes, and a fox along the way. All participants on both legs of the hike made it to the finish line, with Scouts offering first aid and moral support to one another along the way. Many thanks to Merit Badge counselor, Dr. Bill Johnson, who guided the Scouts through the Hiking Merit Badge process – they couldn’t have done it without his support.

On December 20^th, all three groups gathered in the foot-deep snow at the Hampton Town Hall Pavilion for recognition and fun.  First, we held a Pack awards and Troop Court of Honor ceremony.  Cub Scout Sam Caisse received the rank patch of Webelos. In the BSA Troops, 15 merit badges were awarded as well as many rank advancements. The first rank of Scout was awarded to Cody Bailey, Cardyn Feen, Emily Nunn, and Tricia Nanni while the rank of Tenderfoot was awarded to Elijah Feen and Helen Telford. Finally, the rank of Star was awarded to Genevieve Rondeau.  After the ceremony, everyone enjoyed an afternoon of sledding and snowball fights while fresh snow fell upon them all.

On January 3^rd, all three groups again gathered to tackle Goodwin Forest’s New Year’s “Hike-n-Seek”. We split up into four groups to cover the area of the forest and were able to find all 29 items on the scavenger hunt list. It was great fun and we thank Meagan Rondeau at Goodwin for her coordination of this event. The Scouts continue to hold their regular meetings outdoors when the weather permits, safely masked and distanced during these COVID times.  New Scouts are always invited to join!

Michelle Mlyniec

The Family Cub Scout Pack 93 is for boys and girls in grades K-5.  The Scouts BSA Troops are for boys and girls in grades 6-12.  For more information contact: Michelle Mlyniec, 860.465.7344 or MMmlyniec@gmail.com.

Though many negatives characterized 2020 – political divisions, a drought, the pandemic, a tropical storm — there were positive aspects, too. One pleasant commonality was a yearning for nostalgia. We seemed to gravitate toward our recollections, sharing our memories of growing up in Hampton, swapping stories, nudging one another’s remembrances, gathering around a collective affection for our Town. So we sought Christmas memories to celebrate Our Rural Heritage this month. Many of us remember presents at the Little River Grange, the Annual Bazaar, choosing trees at Warren Stone’s Farm and at Popover Hill, where we visited the gift shop to purchase special presents. We remember singing carols at the Congregational Church and Our Lady of Lourdes, our candlelit village, and neighborliness. Though we’re precluded from celebrating with large family gatherings this year, we hope those empty spaces fill with other Christmas “treasures”.

I remember driving the five miles to the Congregational Church by horse and wagon, or by sleigh, depending on the weather. Heated soap stones kept feet warm during the long ride. There was always a live Christmas tree in the church, up front near the pulpit. The tree was trimmed with strings of cranberries and popcorn, and covered with live candles that were actually lit. Each set of parents had brought presents for their children to receive from Santa or one of his helpers. The presents were not wrapped: the dolls hung on the tree, the little wagons were parked under it. Parents usually brought the showiest present their child was to receive.

Helen Matthews from the Hampton Gazette, December, 1978

There could be no special Christmas celebration in the fledging Catholic Church here. Back in those days the priest came here from Pomfret every other week – if he could get through. Nor could anything be planned for the Sunday School children. They had to walk from as far away as Chaplin or Canterbury, and weather could not be depended on. Ours was a family day, with mother always cooking, and all the neighbors up on Station Road coming in to visit. The tree was usually trimmed with popcorn and paper chains, and there were presents – perhaps hankies with crocheted edges, rag dolls, or teddy bears.

Anna McDermott from the Hampton Gazette, December, 1978

At Christmas, the Sunday School had a Christmas tree for the children. So Gertrude Pearl and Helen Fuller and I had a supper ahead of time to raise the money to buy the presents. And we used to go around to different people and ask for twenty-five or fifty cents toward the presents. The tree was over where the piano is now in the church and different people would play Santa Claus – I remember Stanton was Santa Claus one or two years.

Cora Burdick from Hampton Remembers

During the Christmas season each school put on its own program, always held in the evening. There were recitations of poetry, sometimes a play, and songs of the season, all for the entertainment of the parents. If a play was selected (at Goshen School there were perhaps fifteen students, ranging from the first to eighth grade) the very easy parts were given to the young and the complicated parts to the older pupils. All the decorations for the tree or windows were made during seat time. We used flour glue which we also made. LePages was a luxury and there was no Scotch or pressure sensitive tape. Available electricity was not a convenience, so kerosene or gasoline lamps were used, with the greatest of care. Most of the articles for decoration were made of bright colored construction paper and a great deal of tinsel or tinfoil was used so that the flickering light of the lamps produced a variety of colors. There was always a drawing of names for gift giving, usually the limit was set at twenty-five or fifty cents. The teacher received presents from each family. After the program was over, Santa Claus would make his appearance, usually announced by the ringing of sleigh bells. Of course, that was the highlight of the evening.

Charlie Halbach, from the Hampton Gazette, December 1981

During the war years Marguite and I organized a Christmas party at the Grange Hall when every child in town, babies through the eighth grade, was given a gift with his own name on it. We collected money from all the organizations in town and Willimantic merchants were so fascinated by the idea they gave us large discounts. Marguite and I wrapped all those presents ourselves so we could keep them all straight!

Dorothy Holt from Hampton Remembers

When I was a teenager, the Young People’s Group set aside a week or ten days before Christmas to go caroling. We went out every evening until we had visited every home in the town. Does anybody remember being greeted at one house by an elderly gentleman clad only in long johns, brandishing a shot gun? Some fast talking by one member of our group convinced him that our intentions were harmless. He did allow us to sing, and he seemed to enjoy the carols as much as anyone ever did.

Pearl Scarpino, the Hampton Gazette, 1978

The Lambs lived in the red house at the corner of Parsonage Road and Old Town Pound Road. They kept the kids’ Christmas presents at our house. One winter we had a blizzard on Christmas Eve and Lew had to walk down to our house and carry the gifts back on his shoulders. It took over an hour.

Carol Jean MacKinnon Lavoie

Some of my favorite memories are those related to selecting and cutting down our own Christmas tree. When I was little, our family planted future Christmas trees on the back field. Somewhere I have an old, black and white photo of us in old coats and scarves, digging and planting the straight rows of saplings…and encircling each with a cardboard ring.  The cardboard rings were my Dad’s Yankee invention — to discourage the grass from growing faster than the sapling and thus not choking the tree. We watched over and tended those plantings for many years. And those early saplings eventually resulted in having a good selection of Christmas trees each December. We’d help Dad cut some down and haul them to the front yard for sale. Another of Dad’s Yankee preferences was that none of the cut trees were wasted. As Christmas neared, he’d deliver remaining trees to neighbors, family and friends — often with a batch of our homemade cookies to enjoy. And while we kids enjoyed the entire process, there was one component that was not to our liking: We ended up with the most deformed, disproportioned, asymmetrical tree of all! It was such an annual event that we kids would make bets ahead of time as to which tree would be left for us! Our years of experience had taught us to solve any misproportioned problems a tree could present. Our tree was ALWAYS in the corner to hide at least the worst side. We learned how to adjust the screws in the tree holder, put up fishing line to keep a crooked tree from toppling over, put big baubles here, small ones there, hang tinsel and garland to camouflage empty spots. When really desperate to fill a gap, stick a lightweight, wrapped present in the empty area! The use of “imperfect” (but I use that term rather affectionately) Christmas trees lasted into the years when my own children were growing up.

Kathie Halbach Moffitt

Christmas Eve service at the Congregational Church, ringing our bells on the last hymn. We have been all over the United States, Canada and Alaska and we have never found anything like it.

Ralph Hosford

Living on Main Street and adding our candles in the windows to those of other homes, ushering in Advent to Epiphany as well as Hanukkah. White lights, wreaths, menorahs, red bows and berries….a beacon of home and hope as you turn onto Main Street.

Wendy Timberman    

Coming home from college with Tom for Christmas, he’d turn off the car headlights and drive down Main Street slowly. It was magical with all the Christmas candles in the windows, enough to light our way.

Anne Curry

We sold our home in October of 1994 and moved into a one bedroom apartment on Main Street with our two-and-a-half-year-old daughter and our son who just turned five. We lived there for two months while our new house was being built, moving in on December 17^th, the week before Christmas. Maurice Bisson had all our belongings in a tractor trailer which he pulled up to the front door in all the mud and snow. It was wonderful to be able to unload everything right at our door regardless of the mess. The house being new was cold and with nothing on the walls yet, it certainly wasn’t “homey”. Then the power went out! A local business opened after hours for us to buy a generator, thank God! So here we were — trying to unpack, make the house look somewhat like Christmas, trying to shop here and there. I had just started back to work full-time and life was a bit crazy. One afternoon there was a knock on the door. It was Clarence “Can” Stone. Over his shoulder, he had a Christmas tree for us! I had tears in my eyes, it was the most gracious, thoughtful gift ever. My thoughts were, and to this day are, “Yes, Virginia there is a Santa Claus.”

Bobbi Harrison Blair

Christmas Day in the morning!

It begins with birds, yellow and black and white and blue, a score of jays and nearly half a hundred evening grosbeaks, perched in the apple tree by the terrace. They are scattered among the branches like living ornaments on a decorated Christmas tree.

Christmas Day in the afternoon!

We make a Christmas census of plants still green. In sheltered places we discover ground pine and shining club moss and haircap moss, the striped leaves of the pipsissewa and the ribbon leaves of the wood sedge. Green are the needles of the white pine and the juniper and hemlock and cedar. But the deepest, richest green of all on this Christmas day is the green of Christmas ferns amid the snow. For a hundred yards along the eastward-facing slope that climbs steeply above the trail beyond Hyla Pond, we walk below a tilted carpet dense with their massed fronds, dark and glossy-hued.

Christmas Day in the evening!

After dark has fallen, Nellie and I return to the Starfield. It is before the rising of the moon and the cold shimmer of the stars sweeps across the whole arch of the sky. It is always, for us, a deeply stirring, strangely spiritual experience to stand in silence beneath so vast a star filled sky. After a time we turn back along the meadow path. By starlight we find our way home at the end of this day, this special day, at Trail Wood.

Edwin Way Teale

It’s time to get out the Christmas decorations! In the absence of our usual festivities, residents are encouraged to “Deck the Property” for a drive-by experience from the safety of our cars. If you’d like to participate, we are asking you to send us your address so that we can post the location on our Town website. We want to encourage everyone around town to get into the holiday spirit and decorate for the season, so we’re throwing in a little incentive — the winner will be featured in the February issue of The Hampton Gazette!

Please don’t hesitate to enter your display – simple or fancy. When all the submissions are in, we’ll compile a list to publish on the Town website so that everyone knows where to go to see the best lights in town! The close of voting is on January 6, 2021. Use this email — Hamptonseniorclub@gmail.com — to register you location and to cast your vote. Spread the word and spread holiday cheer!