When I was growing up, my grand-father wasn’t just another man in town; he was the man people seemed to know. To me, though, he was sim-ply Grampa, the one with the steady voice, the patient hands, and the quiet way of making the world feel like it made sense. But there was one thing about him that, even as a child, I knew wasn’t ordinary. He could talk to birds.
I don’t remember the first time I saw it hap-pen. I think it was always just part of who he was. We’d be riding along the road near his farm, and he would slow the car, glance out the window, and call out in a way that didn’t sound like words so much as recognition. Then, as if it had been waiting for him all along, a partridge would appear from the edge of the woods. To a child, that felt like magic.
Later, I learned how it all began. One day, while driving along Haskins Road, a partridge stepped out from the brush. Instead of flying off, it lingered, watching him. Grampa spoke to it in that calm, familiar way of his, and after a moment the bird slipped back into the woods, unafraid. After that, he saw the partridge again and again. Eventually, he began leaving food for it, and soon the bird grew tame enough to approach him without hesitation.
By the time I was old enough to notice, their friendship was already something remarkable. Whenever Grampa wanted to summon the par-tridge, he would drive a short distance down the road and call. Within minutes, the bird would appear, sometimes hopping onto his shoulder, pecking at his hat, and chattering the whole time. Other times, he would lift the bird gently into his hands and talk to it as though they shared a language all their own. And when he drove away, the partridge often followed for a stretch, chirping as if scolding him for leaving.
About a decade ago, news services carried the story across the country about the Savoy farm-er who had somehow tamed a wild partridge that would come when called and eat from his hand. During hunting season, a conservation officer granted him special permission to keep the bird safely confined, but that was the only time it ever knew captivity. To everyone else, it was an extraordinary tale. To me, it was simply Grampa being Grampa.
He wasn’t a loud man, but he was a steady one. People respected him not because he sought attention, but because he showed up. He did what needed to be done. He believed in the place he lived and the people in it. At home, that steadiness translated into something softer. He had a way of making you feel seen without say-ing much at all. Sitting beside him was enough. You didn’t need to fill the silence; it wasn’t emp-ty.
Looking back now, I think that’s why the bird trusted him. He didn’t force things. He didn’t chase. He simply made space and waited. As I grew older, I began to understand that what felt like magic was something deeper. It was patience, consistency, and respect for the world around him. He treated people the same way he treated that bird—with calm, with attention, and without trying to control what couldn’t be controlled.
There are so many memories I could choose from—family gatherings, stories told at the ta-ble, the quiet pride in his voice when he spoke about his life—but it’s that image that stays with me most clearly: my grandfather calling into the stillness and something wild choosing to come close. Not because it had to, but because it could. And even now, when I think of him, I don’t just remember what he did. I remember how it felt to be around him—safe, grounded, and part of something steady. He didn’t just talk to birds. He understood how to be in the world, and somehow, without ever saying it di-rectly, he taught us how to be in it too.
By Bernadette Gentry
Today we honor and remember all the brave men and women who gave their lives for the freedoms we know today. It is because of their sacrifices that we can vote for the persons of our choice, have our own views on different topics, march in protest and support, and practice our religion in our own way.
We think, too, of all they missed by dying so young—seeing their children graduate from school, get married, and maybe having grand-children. We think of the great loss to their fami-lies.
When I see the flag at half staff today, it seems to be bowing its head in sorrow along with us. When at noon it is raised to full staff, it seems to blow freely proclaiming the freedoms we know because of them.
And today we say thank you to you. We also remember all Gold Star Mothers, families, and all who loved and cared about you. We pledge that we, too, will always remember. And so, rest now in God’s eternal peace.
by Clifton Jerry Noble, Sr.
May 3, Thursday. I got car repairs at Sarats, $8.74. Took mother to Sperry Hutchison green stamp store where she used four of her books to get a wagon for baby. Paid Fletcher for gas. Left car to have starter and clutch replaced. At home I put Jerry’s new wagon together.
May 4, Friday. Without my car I carried wash two miles to launderette 5:05 to 5:45 a.m. did it and carried it home 6:47 to 7:30. Atwaters took me to Westfield to get my car at noon.
May 5, Saturday. Cut trees and burned brush. My pedometer showed eight miles when I walked on mountain with Uncle Ralph. Baby says “mama, daddy, baby” very well.
May 6, Sunday. At church Sherry Jourdain told me she is quitting choir because of fist fight between her father and Ronald Rathay. I don’t see a connection. In afternoon I took baby in wagon over brook and up Russell Mountain road.
May 7, Monday. Am taking vacation so had car lubricated in Westfield and got cement to continue rebuilding retaining wall behind house.
May 8, Tuesday. Laundry 7:00-8:00. Baby played on bay window seat. I caught him as he fell off. I chopped and burned small trees to clear yard.
May 9, Wednesday. Used most of my money for groceries at A&P. Mowed schoolhouse lawn. Tiger lilies and bleeding heart are up. Worked in briefs to pile rocks and lay drain pipe. Russell fire whistle blew twice. Lots of smoke from fire one half mile south in back of Larrabees.
May 10, Thursday. I vacuumed own car and S216, also well house. I rebuilt terrace wall that was collapsing.
May 11. Friday. Laundry 7:00 to 8:20. Baby was stung by wasp just before I got home.
May 12, Saturday. Worked to smooth trail to brook. Took baby to brook and he stood on rock and watched water. Oriole and flickers are around and E saw a tanager.
May 13, Sunday. Remembered that it was Mothers Day. To Drug store for last minute cards. Hester suggested the anthem that we used. She wheeled baby in stroller. I got stones and roofing paper to cover extended septic drain pipe.
May 14, Monday. My first day back from vacation was easier because of rain. DPW has given George Berry a new Rambler to drive. He will be 70. His son, Flint, is about 24. Just out of the air force he started work today.
May 15, Tuesday. I bought three azaleas at noon and set them out in evening. Baby had bad day with teeth. Card from Grade Teacher said they sent my poem “June Time” to Westfield News Advertiser, and they would like a copy if it is published.
May 16, Wednesday. Got up at 6 a.m. E is sour because I planted azaleas last night and will be gone for puppet show tonight. Did laun-dry 7:30 to 9. Packed theater and puppets in car. Arranged for Jean Watson to stay with E and Baby. Am taking Hester and cousin Les to help with show. Arrived in Belchertown 5:25 p.m. and set up in large room of parish house. Hester tended room lights, and Les took care of sound and scenery Started show 7:05 p.m. Audience was very appreciative and laughed especially at action of bunny. Lester took H back to Westfield so I could come direct over mountain by 9:15.
May 17, Thursday. Packed away puppet show and did laun-dry 7 to 8 a.m. Fin-ished my “Round Room” article and typed it to mail to Good Business. Learned of District Engineer Hugh Corr’s death 1:30 Wednesday morn-ing. No-one knows much about fu-neral tomorrow except collection. Changed to dark suit and got to Toomey Funeral Home, Westfield for visiting hours. I saw young Hugh and his mother and registered. E had just got Baby to sleep when I arrived home and left for laundry second trip.
May 18, Friday. On way to Greenfield I passed George Berry and Al Murphy on way to Corr funeral. They were back at office at eleven with Phil Grout. Phil says not much chance of state hiring summer help. Got S216 lubricated on my way home.
May 19, Saturday. New dry cleaning ma-chines run for 40 minutes. At home I did the ironing. Temperature was 100. When Uncle Ralph came he saw Mamie carry a kitten out of the wellhouse. I followed up Herrick Road and found her with it in a hole in the bank which was cooler than the wellhouse. I finished mowing lawns and took Uncle Ralph to brook where he took movies of waterfalls. In evening I walked up to Branr lot and blazed a trail north to Pome-roy Road.
May 20, Sunday. After church, lunch and Baby’s nap, I took him to brook . He loved it and walked on ledge with me holding his hands. Took movies. Mailed film and renewal of my Registered Land Surveyor’s license.
Al Cloutier says Hugh Corr died of lung cancer. Baby woke at 9:30 p.m. crying with gas pains. Back to sleep by ten.
May 22, Tuesday. 5:45 to 7:15 p.m. I did wash and dry cleaning with new machines at Glen. Walked out while E got Baby to bed. I don’t smoke but carried lighted cigarette to keep mos-quitoes away. Went up Herrick Road to see Ma-mie’s kitten. It came too far out from hole in bank and fell down into road so I had to put it back.
May 23, Wednesday. There were three con-tributor’s copies of Grade Teacher with my poem, “June Time” in P.O. Box 393. Passed mother At-water on Route 20 taking E and Baby home af-ter haircut appointment. Forest fires had been started all along railroad in Russell and Mont-gomery.
May 24, Thursday. I got haircut from barber George Carmel at Sansonetti’s in Agawam.
May 25, Friday. There was a $40 check from Good Business for my article at post office. While getting gas in Westfield I found my credit card missing. Frank Lecrenski gave me gas any-way. I prayed about it all the way home because I was afraid it had fallen on floor and blown out through crack under door. However when I mentioned it to Elizabeth she said card was on my desk. I took $2 to Sam Boyce for cemetery plant and went up to Pine Hill lot with him to chart graves. Took credit card to Post Office Ser-vice Station to pay Frank for gas. Got $24 tire and car wash. To bed by nine but no sleep till 10:30.
May 26, Saturday. I washed our window curtains, ironed and put them back up.
May 27, Sunday. Church with mother 10:05 a.m. and home 12:20 Took bench up behind wellhouse to lie in sun. Had to light cigarettes to keep mosquitoes away. Started brook pump o fill reservoir Hester and Baby sat beside it to watch water flowing in.
May 28, Monday. I met Ralph Miller in Springfield to get him started on railroad sur-vey. Baby said, “paper” today. He can walk by himself.
May 29, Tuesday. Elizabeth had Jean Watson take them to Dr. Wonson for Baby’s check up. He is fine. Jim Constantino bought a new $1165 mo-torcycle with $700 he got from state yesterday.
May 30, Wednesday. We got Baby ready and down to Atwaters for dinner They had got Baby a car seat with wheel and he sat in it during din-ner. My mother was with us. Gypsy moths are chewing holes in all leaves and their droppings sound like light rain. At home I shook rugs and dusted for E, and took bath in brook.
May 31, Thursday. Another tree on our road broke off 16 feet up and rests on telephone cable to Montgomery. I telephoned report of it from Glen.
May 1962
Jerry, Sr., Hester, and Jerry Jr. behind the wellhouse.
Jerry, Sr., working on the retaining wall behind the house
May 2015
By Peg Lis
Parents often say, “They know better,” and in many ways that is true: a child may understand expectations, have followed direc-tions before, and have succeeded in certain mo-ments, which makes it all the more confusing when those same skills seem to disappear. One common misconception is that understanding something automatically leads to consistent be-havior, but for many children there is a gap be-tween knowing what to do and being able to do it in the moment. That gap can be influenced by factors that are not always visible, such as anxi-ety, cognitive flexibility, attention, or emotional regulation.
This inconsistency is often where frustration builds. A child may complete a task indepen-dently one day and resist it the next; they may transition smoothly at school but struggle at home. They can appear capable until they are not, and that unpredictability can feel baffling. Inconsistency does not always mean unwilling-ness; sometimes it reflects how much effort is required just to get through certain moments. What looks like avoidance can sometimes be overwhelm. What looks like defiance can some-times be difficulty shifting. What looks like “not trying” can sometimes be a child who has al-ready used more energy than we realize.
When we shift the lens from “They know better, so why aren’t they doing it?” to “What might be getting in the way right now?” we be-gin to see things differently. Instead of treating behavior as a series of isolated incidents to cor-rect, we can look for patterns to understand. It helps to step back and ask when a child seems most capable, when things become harder, and what changes from one situation to another. These patterns often tell a more accurate story than any single behavior.
If you find yourself returning to the same questions or feeling like nothing quite explains what you are seeing, it may be worth taking a closer look—not to prove something is wrong but to better understand what your child may be experiencing. Children do not always strug-gle in ways that are obvious, and they do not always need more reminders, consequences, or pressure. Sometimes what they need most is for us to pause long enough to see what is under-neath the moment, to recognize when effort is being used up in ways we cannot always see, and to notice when something that looks like resistance might actually be difficulty. Consid-er that understanding—not urgency—is often where meaningful change begins.
For many parents, there comes a point where the question changes. It is no longer “Why aren’t they doing what they’re supposed to do?” but instead “What might be making this harder than it looks?” That shift does not al-ways bring immediate answers, but it opens the door to a different kind of clarity—one built on understanding rather than assumption. If you have found yourself returning to the same ques-tions or noticing patterns that do not quite make sense, it may not be about trying harder or do-ing more. Sometimes it is simply about taking a step back and allowing yourself the space to look more closely at what your child may be ex-periencing, because often the first step forward is not a solution but a clearer understanding of where you are.
More than “They Know Better”
Dr Simone Phillips, Psychologist
Inside the Young Mind:
Lighthouses have long served as sym-bols of guidance and safety, and their history in America stretches back to the earliest colonies. The National Park Service notes that early naviga-tional aids included bea-cons and fires on points such as Beavertail in Rhode Island in 1639 and Beacon Hill in Boston in 1635, which helped guide ships and warn of approaching vessels.
The first official lighthouse in the United States was Boston Light, completed in 1716, fol-lowed by others along the East Coast, including the masonry Sandy Hook Lighthouse in 1764. Over time, lighthouses evolved from simple fires to oil lamps, Fresnel lenses, and eventually electric beacons, each advancement improving visibility and reliability. Their lights were pro-tected from the wind by glass windows, and large mirrors often helped project the beam far-ther out to sea.
Automation in the twentieth century reduced the need for lighthouse keepers, and modern satellite-based navigation systems have largely replaced lighthouses as primary navigational tools.
Beyond their practical purpose, lighthous-es have long represented guidance, hope, and safety. They offer a powerful metaphor for how direction and clarity can appear in our own lives, much like a steady beam cutting through treacherous waters. Years ago, while vacation-ing in Chatham on Cape Cod, I watched storms wash expensive beach houses into the ocean because they were built on sand. That experi-ence showed me the value of constructing any-thing—physical or personal—on a solid founda-tion. Lighthouses are always anchored in stone with deep supports, and when storms arrive, they stand firm.
The straight beam of a lighthouse resembles the unwavering needle of a compass, always pointing toward the right path. Our personal rivers often flow into oceans of uncertainty, and at any moment waves may surge against us. When challenges rise, we must look ahead for the welcoming rays of light and follow the glow that leads us forward. Adversity comes first, but if we stay the course, we eventually reach the comfort of love, health, and security. The lessons learned through struggle can cultivate new growth if we choose not to complain but instead embrace the opportunity to strengthen our character.
Human beings can shine like lighthouses too. One such light I have known is Kate in South-ampton, Massachusetts. She stands on a solid foundation, radiates warmth, and offers guidance with a heart full of care. Her efforts help older adults build confidence and community, and many ex-press how much they value the light she brings into their lives. An-other is my wife, Susanna, whose loving and caring light greets me each morning. She guides me, supports me, and brings me safely through life’s passages. Her presence is a daily blessing, and I hope others experience that same kind of illumination in their own relationships.
Our world can sometimes feel overshadowed by darkness, and many people may be adrift without a rudder or life preserver. Each of us has a purpose, and each of us can be a guiding light. When we see ourselves as built on solid rock, strengthened by experience, and ground-ed in wisdom, our light grows brighter. The more intentionally we shine, the more hope we offer. May others see and feel the fruit of a nur-tured, purposeful, and abundant life.
By Todd Shiveley
As we continue celebrating the 250th an-niversary of our Declaration of Inde-pendence, it feels only fitting that new school textbooks include the remarkable story of Je-thro Jones, an extraordinary craftsman, soldier, and African American whose life reflects both the promise and the struggle of early America. Born around 1733 in the Medway and Medfield region southwest of Boston, Jones likely began woodworking as a teenager, as was common in an era when trades were learned early and practiced for life. Among his peers was Sambo Freeman, another man of color, and a carpenter. By 1754, both men were serving in the French and Indian War, where they spent roughly four years in military service before returning home in 1758.
In the decade that followed, particularly be-tween 1764 and 1767, Jones appears to have come under the influence and lived with Cesar Chelor, a respected plane maker who had been freed by his mentor and employer, Francis Nich-olson. Chelor’s skill and reputation shaped the environment in which Jones worked, and both men focused on crafting wood planes, the es-sential tools used to shape and join timber. Over the centuries, examples of Jones’ craftsmanship found their way into the collections of Colonial Williamsburg and the Smithsonian Institution. Chelor, meanwhile, is remembered as the most prolific plane maker of the eighteenth century, yet Jones’ contributions remain a meaningful part of that legacy.
Jones married Juda King in 1767, and togeth-er they raised four children. The family moved from Medway to Holliston around 1771, and after years of disciplined work, Jones was for-mally recognized as a practicing toolmaker. By 1777, now living in Leicester, Massachusetts, he enlisted in the Continental Army and fought in the pivotal Battle of Saratoga in New York.
His service did not end there. Jones endured the harsh winter at Valley Forge in 1778 and fought at the Battle of Monmouth in New Jersey in 1779. He reenlisted in 1780 and took part in the decisive Battle of Yorktown in 1781. When the war drew to a close, he was honorably dis-charged in 1783 by General Henry Knox. By then in his mid-forties and worn from years of conflict, Jones returned to woodworking, though the phys-ical demands of the trade were no longer as easy to meet. Like many veterans of the Revolution, he faced financial hardship despite earlier promises of compensa-tion. It is understandable that he sympathized with the frustrations that fueled Shays’ Rebel-lion, as he too had been pushed to the edge by economic strain.
In 1790, Jones moved his family to Blandford, where he acquired a small lot and continued to work as best he could. Nearly a decade later, his son Hezekiah leased him twenty-five acres to live on for the remainder of his life. Jones died in 1828, leaving behind a legacy that was nearly lost to time.
For many years, his burial site was forgot-ten. Thanks to the dedication of local historians and descendants, his story has been brought back into the light. In 2025, a special ceremo-ny honored his life, and a mark-er was placed at his resting place. Jocelyn Jones Arnold, his great-great-great-great-granddaughter, spoke at the event. The Westfield American Legion Honor Guard and the Henry Knox Regimental Color Guard offered a musket salute in recogni-tion of his service and devotion to his country.
Jethro Jones’ life is a profound chapter in the story of early America. Few individuals fought in as many defining battles, spanning both the French and Indian War and the Revolutionary War, while also contributing to the craft tradi-tions that shaped the nation’s early industry. His legacy as an American, a craftsman, a sol-dier, and an African American deserves to be remembered and celebrated for as long as we honor our freedom and gather each Fourth of July. Rest in peace, Jethro Jones.
Part 3
By Jim Putnam II
The decline of Southwick’s dairy farms did not happen all at once. Earlier changes in farm-ing practices and milk marketing had already begun to erode the foundations of local dairy-ing, but the final blow arrived in the early 1980s. Beginning in the New Deal era, the federal gov-ernment supported the farm price of milk, a complicated but effective system that helped dairy producers nationwide, including those in Southwick. For decades, milk prices rose with inflation, giving farmers a measure of stability.
That changed in March 1981 when President Ronald Reagan froze the milk support price, ef-fectively ending the program. From that point forward, the farm price of milk was no longer tied to inflation and rose less than 1 percent a year for nearly a decade. Costs continued to climb, but milk checks did not. Southwick’s re-maining dairy farmers suddenly found them-selves in a cost-price squeeze that demanded larger herds, greater productivity, and more in-vestment simply to stay afloat. For many, espe-cially those not close to retirement, the prospect of working harder for diminishing returns was too discouraging to ignore. A steady job with benefits, weekends off, and fewer risks looked far more appealing. By the end of the 1990s, the lights in the last of Southwick’s dairy barns had gone dark.
What remains today is a legacy shaped by family farms in the truest sense. Nearly all of Southwick’s dairies relied on family labor, with each member contributing according to age, strength, and circumstance. Fathers almost al-ways milked the cows, though some mothers did as well, often stepping in as needed. Many farm wives washed and sanitized equipment, tended calves, or worked off-farm jobs that provided steady income and, if they were for-tunate, health insurance. Children learned re-sponsibility early. Younger kids pushed loose manure into gutters, fed calves, or brought cows in from pasture. Older kids climbed silos to pitch silage, drove tractors to spread manure, or helped with milking under the watchful eye of an adult. When thunderstorms threatened the hay crop, everyone—parents, kids, relatives, and neighbors—pitched in until the last wagon was unloaded or the rain arrived.
The barns themselves were more than work-spaces. They were extensions of the family liv-ing room, filled with conversation, jokes, in-structions, and the steady rhythm of daily chores. Visitors such as the artificial insemina-tion technician, the feed salesman, or the milk hauler brought news and gossip. An AM radio often played in the background, broadcasting Red Sox games, polka music, country songs, or Bob Steele’s farm report. On November 22, 1963, many families learned of President Kennedy’s assassination while milking cows. Sometimes a parent or child appeared with a thermos of hot coffee or a plate of warm cookies. Milking, feed-ing, and caring for cattle continued every day of the year, whether it was the Fourth of July or Christmas morning.
Life in those barns was not always idyllic. Ventilation was poor, making summers hot and sticky and winters cold and damp. Flies were constant companions until frost arrived, and cows swatted them with their tails, sometimes catching an unsuspecting farmer. Manure did not always land where intended. Years of hand milking and later machine milking took a toll on farmers’ bodies. Long before the term “re-petitive motion syndrome” existed, farmers suf-fered from it. Hands, wrists, knees, and backs eventually wore out. Many older farmers sold their cows not because they wanted to stop farming, but because their bodies could no lon-ger endure the strain.
Yet those who grew up on these farms recall their childhoods with deep affection. They re-member working alongside family, gaining re-sponsibility as they grew, and feeling the pride of mastering new tasks—especially the day their legs grew long enough to reach the tractor ped-als. They remember the camaraderie of haying days, when relatives and neighbors joined forc-es to beat the rain. They remember coming in from chores to a hot, hearty meal prepared with love. Farm families rarely ate at fine restaurants, but they always had good food and plenty of it.
For many farm kids, there eventually came a difficult conversation with their parents. Some-times a father expressed hope that a child would return to the farm after military service or col-lege. Other times, parents gently explained that the farm was not large or profitable enough to support two families. These moments were emotional for both generations. In the end, only a handful of Baby Boomers returned to South-wick dairy farms, and none remained dairy farmers throughout their careers. Still, they car-ried with them the work ethic, resilience, and sense of responsibility learned in the barn.
Dairy farming also depended on a network of people whose livelihoods were tied to the farms. The economic multiplier effect was alive and well in Southwick long before the term be-came common. Pioneer Dairy and the Nutter family employed plant workers and truck driv-ers. Local cattle dealers, blacksmiths, lumber suppliers, feed truck drivers, equipment deal-ers, veterinarians, breeding technicians, exten-sion agents, and loan officers all played essen-tial roles. Even the milk inspector, sometimes the target of farmer frustration, was part of the system that kept dairies running.
My own memories of Southwick’s dairy era come from growing up across the street from Haas Brothers Dairy and Crestview Farm. I oc-casionally helped my brother Steve with his 4-H dairy heifers, though I never caught the dairy farming bug myself. I knew dairy farm kids at school and church, and many of our school bus drivers were dairy farmers who balanced milk-ing schedules with bus routes. Their reliance on part-time town jobs reflected the financial chal-lenges of small dairy farms. I remember earning seventy-five cents an hour working in the Haas Brothers milk shack, locking up at 9 p.m., and walking home across the street with my $2.25 in hand. I remember the Dziengelewski family’s silo with its Christmas star and waking to the sound of their milking machine compressor. I remember retired farmers like Enfred Anderson and George Steere, who helped on our poultry farm and shared stories I wish I had listened to more closely.
Today, the ghosts of Southwick’s dairy farms linger in the landscape. Driving along Hillside or Coes Hill, one can still imagine the herds, the hayfields, and the families who worked them. As for who or what ended Southwick’s dairy era, there is no single culprit. Some farms had no next generation. Others had children who chose different careers, seeking more predict-able hours and income. Blaming Reagan’s policy change oversimplifies a complex situation; the federal dairy program had become expensive and difficult to justify. Blaming ancient glaciers for leaving small, rocky fields is equally futile. Supermarkets changed how Americans bought milk, but consumers freely chose convenience and low prices. In the end, Americans’ desire for cheap, abundant food outweighed their sup-port for local dairy farms. It is worth remem-bering that every purchase we make shapes the future of local agriculture.
Where have all the dairies gone? They have gone to memory—warm, enduring, and deeply woven into the story of Southwick
By Michael Dubilo
Founded in 1945 by residents determined to preserve and celebrate the communi-ty’s heritage, Salmon Brook Historical Society has spent more than eight decades safeguard-ing stories, artifacts, landmarks and landscapes that define Granby, Connecticut. As the town changes, the society remains committed to con-necting people with the natural and cultural history that shaped this place.
At the center of that history is the salmon. Salmon Brook received its name from once-abundant runs of Atlantic salmon that migrated through its waters. In the 17th and 18th centu-ries, Atlantic salmon traveled inland from the ocean, swimming up the Connecticut River and into tributaries such as Salmon Brook. These seasonal runs were significant events: salmon were plentiful, large and an important food source for Native peoples and early European settlers. The fish were so closely associated with the stream that the name Salmon Brook became the natural descriptive choice.
The salmon’s life cycle and behavior carry powerful symbolism. Salmon return from the sea to the freshwater streams where they were born, swimming against strong currents to reach their spawning grounds. That upstream journey embodies perseverance, instinctive return and renewal. For a community, those qualities mir-ror how people remain connected to their roots even as they move away and grow; memory, heritage and shared identity bring them back in spirit if not always in person.
Over time, dams and industrial development along major rivers, especially the Connecticut River system, disrupted migratory fish patterns. By the 19th century, Atlantic salmon had largely disappeared from many inland streams, includ-ing Salmon Brook. Modern restoration efforts in the Connecticut River watershed have sought to reintroduce migratory fish, but the historic abundance has not returned to colonial-era lev-els. The brook’s name endures as a reminder of a different ecological past, when clear, cold wa-ters supported thriving salmon runs that helped shape settlement and daily life.
The oak is the other enduring symbol of Gran-by. Oak trees have long represented strength, endurance and longevity. The historic Granby Oak has stood for generations as a beloved landmark and a living witness to the town’s unfolding story. From an acorn gathered from that tree and planted on the society’s property, a new tree—Granby Oak II—has grown. That second oak represents continuity, stewardship and regeneration; it is a living reminder that while individual chapters of history may close, the broader story continues.
Together, salmon and oak create a balanced image of place: water and land, movement and stability, journey and rootedness. The salmon speaks to the dynamic forces that shaped Gran-by’s earliest days—the rivers, the fisheries and the patterns of settlement. The oak speaks to en-durance and the steadfast commitment to pres-ervation that has defined the community and the society since 1945.
Both bring symbolic meanings of Granby together and going forward, the societies logo will feature a leaping salmon framed by oak leaves. Honoring both the town’s natural history and its last-ing strength. It invites curi-osity: why a salmon, why oak leaves? Each question opens a doorway to deeper understanding about Salmon Brook’s migratory fish runs, the naming traditions of early New England settlers and the Granby Oak and its successor grown from an acorn.
The salmon leaps, the oak endures, and the Salmon Brook Historical Society continues its mission—rooted in history, sustained by com-munity and inspired by the enduring landscape of Granby.
By Dave Roberts,Exec Dir SBHS
Bounce
Back Principle
Today I want to share a simple idea about how the energy we put into the world often finds its way back to us. It is a principle that shapes the quality of our relationships, our outlook, and the way we move through life. Everything we send out—kindness, frustration, generosity, or impatience—tends to return in some form. We truly live in a bounce-back world.
Many people have expressed this idea in dif-ferent ways. One well-known teaching describes how what we give often comes back to us in full measure, much like a boomerang that circles back no matter how far it is thrown. When we offer friendship, we often receive friendship. When we offer love, love tends to return. When we plant seeds of goodwill, we usually harvest something similar.
I’m reminded of a little boy who was having a terrible day. After being scolded, he stormed outside and shouted, “I hate you!” To his sur-prise, a voice echoed back, “I hate you!” Fright-ened, he ran to his mother, who gently led him back outside and encouraged him to try some-thing different. He shouted, “I love you!” and the echo returned the same words. His mother explained that life often works like that. What we send out has a way of coming back.
This principle invites us to consider what we want more of in our lives. If we want apprecia-tion, we can begin by appreciating others. A col-lege professor once gave a pop quiz that ended with an unexpected question: “What is the name of the woman who cleans this classroom?” Most students had noticed her but never learned her name. The professor reminded them that ev-eryone they meet deserves attention and care, even in small ways. The students never forgot her name after that. It was Maria. Moments of appreciation, even simple ones, often return to us in meaningful ways.
The same is true of comfort. During the Civil War, Abraham Lincoln fre-quently visited wounded soldiers. One young man, unaware he was speaking to the President, asked him to write a let-ter to his mother. Lincoln carefully wrote the young man’s words and signed the let-ter on his behalf. When the soldier realized who he was speaking to, he asked Lin-coln to hold his hand so he wouldn’t feel alone. Lincoln stayed with him until the end. Acts of comfort like that tend to ripple outward, and history remembers the compassion Lincoln showed during those difficult years. When we offer comfort to others, we often find comfort returning to us when we need it most.
Support can also appear in unexpected plac-es. After World War II, an American soldier no-ticed a hungry boy staring into a bakery win-dow. The soldier bought pastries and bread and handed the bag to the child, who looked up and asked, “Mister, are you God?” The question came from a place of wonder, but the moment revealed something universal: when we give more than expected, kindness often finds its way back to us in surprising ways.
Love works the same way. James Hewitt once shared a story about a father whose young son experienced sudden, violent seizures. During a church service, the boy began to seize, and his father carried him to the back of the sanctuary. He held him close, whispered to him, and stayed with him until the episode passed. There was no embarrassment or frustration—only steady, unconditional love. The scene illustrated how powerful it is to love someone through their im-perfections. When we offer that kind of love to others, we often receive it in return.
In the end, the bounce-back principle in-vites us to choose what we want to send into the world. Appreciation, comfort, support, and love rarely return empty. Even with our imper-fections and quirks, we can open our lives to the possibility that what we offer will come back to us in ways we may not expect. The choice of what we send out is always ours, and it shapes the life we experience.
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To include your event, please send information by the 1st of the month. We will print as many listings as space allows. Our usual publication date is around the 10th of the month. Email to: magazine@southwoods.info.
Southwick Historical Society, Inc
Pulpit politics in colonial Westfield
Thursday, May 28 - Southwick Historical Society, Inc. Presents. Pulpit politics in colonial Westfield: Rev. Edward Taylor and Rev. Nehemiah Bull, a study of contrasts. Dr. Walter L. Powell will discuss Rev. Edward Taylor and Rev. Nehemiah Bull, who were successive, early Puritan ministers in Westfield, Massachusetts, linked by their ministry. Rev. Taylor was born in England. He came to Westfield in the early 1670s, becoming its first settled minister. Rev. Bull was ordained in Westfield in 1726. Bull was hired to assist and train under Taylor. Meeting House Hall 222 College Highway, Southwick Thursday, May 28, 2026, 6:30 p.m. Annual business meeting and election: 6:30 p.m. Presentation: 7:00 p.m. Admission is free, and light refreshments will be served.
Stanley Park
2026 Forest Bathing Series
Sunday, June 21 - Stanley Park invites the community to slow down and reconnect with nature during its 2026 Forest Bathing series, led by certified guide Gretchen Williams of Golden Hour Journeys. Forest Bathing sessions will be held on the following dates: Sunday, June 21 from 2:00pm to 4:00pm. Participants will meet at the entrance to the Frank Stanley Beveridge Wildlife Sanctuary, located across from the Recreation Field just past the picnic area and restrooms. Parking is available directly across from the entrance via Gate 1, 400 Western Avenue. Attendees are encouraged to dress for the weather, wear comfortable shoes, and bring sunscreen. Participants may also wish to bring a lightweight item to sit on and a beverage.
Space is limited and advance registration is required. To register for a session, please visit www.stanleypark.org and select the desired date on the event page. A suggested donation of $10 per person is appreciated. For additional information, please contact the Development Office at 413 568 9312 ext 108 or email development@stanleypark.org.
Tolland Cultural Council
Oakland Stroke
Sunday, August 16, 4:00 pm - Rain date August 30. Tolland Town Green Oakland Stroke is a 13-piece band featuring the Bump City Horns and leading lady Donna-Lee DePrille on vocals. This program is supported in part by a grant from the Tolland Cultural Council, a local agency which is supported by the Mass Cultural Council, a state agency. The perfect thing to do today!Mark your calendar.
Run for RMC 5k
Sunday June 7 - 5K Trail Run/Walk & 1-mile Accessible Walk at Stanley Park in memory of Antonio Angel Ortiz on June 7th. Check in 8:30am - 1st Race: 10am. Hosted by Tactical Tone memorial foundation. Raising awareness for Renal Medullary Carcinoma. Register today: tacticaltone.org/Run-for-RMC
Our Lady of the Lake
75th Anniversary Events
June 21st 10am - 75th Anniversary Mass with Bishop Byrne: We welcome Bishop Byrne as he celebrates our 75th anniversary.
June 28th 10am - 75th Anniversary Mass and Parish Picnic: The culmination of our anniversary celebrations! Please join us for 10am Mass followed by a picnic for our parish family where all are welcome! For more information: ollth@gmail.com
A FESTIVAL FOR HAPPINESS IN HADLEY
Local Comedy Theater Hosting Improv Festi-val Fundraiser
Saturday May 30th - Happier Valley Comedy opens its doors on May 30th to 50+ performers and audience members at The Happiness Festival Fundraiser, a day and evening! long celebration of local improv talent at Happier Valley Comedy.
The Happiness Festival Fundraiser kicks off at 12:30pm with The Happier Family Comedy Show, a family-friendly improv show for kids 5-13 years old and their grownups. Adult-friendly fun will showcase nine improv shows featuring popular independent teams. Closing out the festival at 8:00pm will be a special performance from fan-favorites The Understudies, who will perform a fully improvised musical with their new puppet costars.
Tickets will be sold individually for each of five show blocks. So audiences can come for a specific hour or stay until the festivities end after the raffle drawing at 9:30pm. All ticket holders also are invited to play improv games in the 6:00pm open jam, and purchase raffle tickets for exclusive “Night Out” packages featuring local favorites like Amherst Cinema, Protocol, Herrell’s, High Brow, Cedar Chest, Stay Golden, The Springfield Symphony, and more!
Tickets for shows and raffles are available in advance at HappierValley.Com, where you’ll also be able to find a full schedule of the day’s events. All proceeds for The Happiness Festival Fundraiser goes towards Happier Valley Comedy’s 2026 fundraising goal.
Tolland Cultural Council
Matt York: Songs and story &
wisdom of Willie Nelson
Sunday, June 14 – 6:30 pm - Town Green or Old Church Based on weather. Longtime New England singer/songwriter Matt York’s songs will focus on Willie’s long and illustrious music career that has spanned over seven decades. York has twice been nominated for the Boston Music Award for Best Country Artist and he recently released his second book, The Words and Wisdom of Willie Nelson. This program is supported in part by a grant from the Tolland Cultural Council, a local agency which is supported by the Mass Cultural Council, a state agency.Join your neighbors for a fun evening here in Tolland.
Stanley Park Tours
June 13th and 27th - Stanley Park invites you to take a walking tour through the beautiful grounds of the Park. Your personal guide will show you the many inviting areas this picturesque Park has to offer. Enchanted Oak, Carillon Tower, Colonial-era Village, Veteran’s Memorial, Tea House in the Asian Garden while enjoying the ponds. We hope you enjoy your tour! Comfortable shoes are highly recommended for these tours. Tours meet in front of the Carillon Tower at 9:00am, ending at approximately 10:30 am. Tour Dates: June 13th and 27th. To make a Tour Reservation, please contact Stanley Park’s Development Office at (413) 568-9312 ext. 108, on the event page on our website www.stanleypark.org or by email at development@stanleypark.org
Stanley Park
Hula Hoop Dance Workshops
Sunday, June 14 - Stanley Park is excited to introduce a series of Hula Hoop Dance workshops for the 2026 season in partnership with SHOW Circus Studio. These fun and energetic classes offer a unique opportunity for participants of all ages to get moving, build confidence, and explore creative expression in a welcoming outdoor setting.
Hula Hoop Dance is a dynamic activity that helps expand range of motion while improving balance and strength. Each workshop will focus on core foundations such as spatial awareness and plane switching, while also giving participants the chance to learn fun and engaging tricks. Classes will be led by instructor Lauren Drewnowski, who will provide hula hoops for all participants and tailor instruction to meet individual skill levels. No prior experience is necessary, and all are welcome to join.
Workshop dates and locations are as follows: Sunday, June 14 from 10:00 am to 11:00 am on the Acre Lawn. Saturday, June 27 from 9:00 am to 10:00 am on the Acre Lawn Each class is limited to 25 participants to ensure equipment availability and a quality experience. Advanced registration is required and can be completed by visiting https://www.stanleypark.org/all-upcoming-events.
Donations to the Park of $5 per person, per class, is suggested. For more information on Hula Hoop Dance classes and all other Stanley Park events, check online at: www.stanleypark.org.
COUNTRY PEDDLER
CLASSIFIEDS
PRAYER OFFERINGS
DELREO HOME IMPROVEMENT for all your exterior home improvement needs, ROOFING, SIDING, WINDOWS, DOORS, DECKS & GUTTERS extensive references, fully licensed & insured in MA & CT. Call Gary Delcamp 413-569-3733
RECORDS WANTED BY COLLECTOR - Rock & Roll, Country, Jazz of the 50’s and 60’s All speeds. Sorry - no classical, showtunes, polkas or pop. Fair prices paid. No quantity too small or too large. Gerry 860-402-6834 or G.Crane@cox.net
GOODS & SERVICES
Lakeside Property management - For all your landscaping needs. Mowing, new lawn installs, sod, mulch/stone installation, bush trimming, retaining walls, snow plowing/removal, etc. Serving Southwick, Suffield, Granby, Agawam, Westfield, Simsbury. Residential and commercial. Call Joe 413-885-8376. Give us a to get that property looking the way you want it! Now accepting major credit cards.
The granby motel- 551 Salmon Brook Street Granby, CT 06035. Room for rent, weekly, daily, & monthly. Wifi available. Stove, Refrigerator, Kitchen. LONG TERM RENTAL AVAILABLE AT AFFORDABLE PRICE. Ask for Mike Shaw. 860-653-2553
St. Jude’s Novena - May the sacred heart of Jesus be adored, glorified, loved and preserved throughout the world now, and forever. Sacred Heart of Jesus pray for us. St. Jude, Worker of Miracles, pray for us. St. Jude, Helper of the Hopeless, pray for us. Say this prayer 9 times a day. By the 8th day your prayer will be answered. It has never been known to fail. Publication must be promised. Thank you St. Jude. ..- GR
OBITUARIES
Gary Petersen, 85, of Grand Island, New York (formerly of Granville, MA) passed away peacefully at home on January 22, 2026, surrounded by cherished loved ones.
He was born on April 25, 1940, to Olav R. Petersen and Alice (Sheets) Petersen in Springfield, Massachusetts.
He graduated from Westfield High School before entering the Air Force for four years, serving with the office of the staff judge advocate in the U.S. and in Turkey and then finally stationed in Plattsburgh, NY. He started his career at Hitchcock & Co. as a bank auditor and accountant before joining Westfield Savings Bank in February, 1969. He was quickly promoted to manager and eventually reached the title of vice president over the course of his 36-year tenure there.
He resided in Granville for 84 years before moving to the western New York area in 2024. He was married to the love of his life, the former Nancy Wackerbarth, for 54 wonderful years. He enjoyed watching sports, observing nature, his treasured Labrador retrievers, fun adventures on the dunes of Cape Cod, and time spent with friends and family at his cottage on Otis Reservoir.
He is predeceased by his beloved wife, Nancy. He leaves behind faithful sister-in-law, Susan M. Snelgrove and brother-in-law James Wackerbarth and companion Karen Robtoy, of Granville, MA. Also, brother-in-law Stephen Wackerbarth and wife Valerie of Florida and brother-in-law Daniel Rose of Ransomville, NY. He also leaves behind many loving nieces, nephews, great nieces, and great nephews.
Gary’s family is extremely grateful to Hospice Buffalo for their personal compassionate care. They would also like to thank the Granville Ambulance Service and EMTs that assisted him in the past. Memorial contributions can be made to Hospice Buffalo at HospiceBuffalo.com or to the Granville Ambulance Service at P.O. Box 247, Granville, MA 01034 in honor of Gary.
The family will gather and receive friends from 10:00 AM – 11:00 AM on Sunday, May 24, 2026, in the Southwick Forastiere Family Funeral Home, 624 College Highway (Highway 10/202) in Southwick, with a funeral home service to follow at 11:00 AM. Private burial.
HELP WANTED
Part time/full time Installer/Technician needed - Must have a driver’s license. Mechanical and carpentry skills a plus. Semi-retirees welcome to apply. Apply in person at Leisure Time Canvas, Inc. 140 Norman Street, West Springfield, MA 01089
Part time/full time Office Help Needed- Must have basic grammar, computer, and telephone skills. Experience helpful. Apply in person at Leisure Time Canvas, Inc. 140 Norman Street, West Springfield, MA 01089
JUNK REMOVAL SERVICE Local dump runs, furniture removal, debris removal, garage cleanouts, house cleanouts, and more. Discounted bulk pickup from driveway or garage. 24/7 Same-day service available. Free Estimates. Call, or text pictures to 860-698-1848. WWW.KBJUNK.COM KB JUNK REMOVAL LLC
GOODS & SERVICES
FOR SALE: Aerosonic Upright Piano. Good Shape, needs tuning. Pickup Only. $200.00. Call Grace 413-569-5453
