Winter 2006

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Why You Should Love Polymers

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Falling for Shelburne Falls

Where Are They Now?

Lessons in the Sand

Feature

Falling for Shelburne Falls Why do so many UMass Amherst alumni call this town home

—Grace Friary

In the heart of Shelburne Falls, the Bridge of Flowers spans the Deerfield River. Originally constructed in 1908 to carry trolley cars, the bridge was abandoned in 1928. Soon after, townspeople volunteered to turn the eyesore into a garden pathway. Volunteers still help maintain the blooming expanse under the guidance of a paid gardener and assistant. About 15,000 visitors stroll the bridge each year. Photos by Ben Barnhart. SHELBURNE FALLS SITS 100 MILES west of Boston on the historic Mohawk Trail, and about 25 minutes northwest of Amherst. Visitors tend to be instantly charmed by its historic buildings, funky, boutique-lined thoroughfare, and the mighty Deerfield River washing over well-worn rocks right through the middle of town. But people who live here are drawn to more than the postcard façade. The town holds compelling contradictions between past and present, between open space and industry, plus a ripe arts scene that has proved irresistible for many. And hundreds of them are UMass Amherst alumni. Shelburne Falls is the center of “west county,” a nine-town region (and corresponding Mohawk Trail school district, geographically the largest in the state) that makes up the western half of Franklin County. The greater community is a mixture of locals born to the western hills, enterprising farmers, aging hippies, self-proclaimed rednecks, savvy business owners, home-school families, national icons seeking anonymity, and laptop entrepreneurs whose offices are virtually everywhere. The region’s diversity makes for a vibrant village scene but also fosters competing values and sentiments. You could say Shelburne Falls is more a state of mind than a place. Most mornings along Bridge Street, farmers and carpenters sip coffee at village cafés alongside winners of Pulitzer Prizes and Emmy Awards. Locals include Bill Cosby ’72G, ’76G, glassblower Josh Simpson - www.megaplanet.com/ -, journalist David Marcus, - www.davemarcus.com/ - and recording artist Jill Connolly, - www.jillconnolly.com/ - the well-known voice of the Olympics. There is a “statistic” that has been floating around for years: More heads of household are involved in the creative and performing arts in west county than in any region of comparable size in the United States. True or not, of the region’s approximately 300 practicing artists registered in a database compiled by Greenfield Community College, nearly half list Shelburne Falls as their address. To support the lively arts scene, it seems, a new business opens up nearly every week. It’s a special place, and for every person who lives and works here, it has a distinct meaning. Personal history ties some to the region, while others visited once and then decided to stay. When asked for a single word that describes Shelburne Falls, most people think a moment. “Well, I’d say it’s eclectic,” said Liz Kidder ’76G, director of special events and a grant writer at the Franklin Land Trust - www.franklinlandtrust.org/ - in Shelburne Falls. The transplanted New Jersey native laments that her hometown drifted into suburban sprawl, with open space now nearly extinct. It’s one reason she is drawn to her work: The Land Trust is devoted to the preservation of Franklin County farm and forest land, to helping landowners and farmers protect their land from unwanted development. But she knows that every rural region needs a hub, and Shelburne Falls serves that need with style. “We have restaurants, arts and crafts shops, two markets, the pharmacy, a newsstand, hair salons, a bowling alley, a florist, a bookstore, and a used clothing store,” says Kidder. “That is just some of what you will find along Bridge Street. My mother moved to Shelburne Falls from Greenfield a few years ago, and she has never felt so involved in or accepted by a community. She does absolutely all of her shopping in this village.” Bisected by an early 20th-century iron bridge spanning the Deerfield River and its prehistoric potholes (formed by pebbles twirled into the gneiss rock by departing glaciers), Shelburne Falls - www.shelburnefalls.com/ - is partly in the town of Shelburne (population 2,100) and partly in the adjacent town of Buckland (with 1,900 residents). Today, nationally renowned Mole Hollow Candle Company, - www.molehollowcandles.com/ - North River Glass (owned by Kathy Young ’77), and a variety of shops housing artisans, craftspeople, and a publisher line Deerfield Avenue. This short street leads to the roiling waters that once yielded up highly prized salmon, a mainstay of life for colonial residents; in the 18th century the English named it Salmon Falls. What the community needs in order to keep life afloat in the 21st century depends on whom you ask. Though the wooden, brick, and granite buildings in the former mill village look much as they did in the 19th century, what’s now inside of them sometimes divides those who live and work in this hip, historic, and decidedly diverse place. Along with the arts scene, the village is known for its restaurants. The Foxtowne and the soda fountain at Baker’s Pharmacy attract a loyal, local clientele, while newer, more adventurous dining options draw diners from as far away as Springfield, Brattleboro, and Williamstown. “I guess our word for this town is ‘food,’” says Tanya Bryant ’84C, who, with her partner Margaret Fitzpatrick, owns the popular Tusk ’N Rattle Café. - www.tusknrattle.com/ - Bryant and Fitzpatrick pioneered the new restaurant scene in the 1990s, opening Margo’s Bistro (where Café Martin is now) and opening Tusk ’N Rattle a few years later. Says Bryant, “Our idea was to introduce upscale dining to Shelburne Falls. The restaurant business is a real adventure. We’ve had a few people who have sat down to dinner, looked at their entrees and said, ‘what the hell is that?’ But, most people who come to dine with us are educated eaters who are repeat customers.” Today, the region is perceived as gay- and lesbian-friendly. But it wasn’t always so welcoming. “I remember the faces on the regulars in the Foxtowne when we owned Margo’s,” continues Fitzpatrick. “They would look across the street to see what lesbians looked like. We were the first female couple to break into the restaurant scene here and, well, you can just imagine.” Several Shelburne Falls’ businesses are operated by couples that, as Tanya Bryant says, “have broken down the wall, helped to reduce the sort of prejudice you found here as recently as a handful of years ago.” Tolerance, tradition and timing. Those so-called Yankee virtues are what some say are at the heart of Shelburne Falls’ wide appeal. Sue Silvester ’87G, director of the Mary Lyon Education Fund, - http://www.mlef.org/ - a nonprofit organization that raises funds for the Mohawk Trail school district, takes it a step further. “Culture begins in the country. Cities are the rich holding tanks of a civilization rooted in places like Shelburne Falls; historically the small-town, close-knit way of life migrated from the country to large centers of population. Rome, New York, Amsterdam; they evolved into the vibrant centers they are because there are small places like this.” Whether Shelburne Falls is an incubator for big city ideas (or not) is less important to some locals than finding what they need in village stores. “Liberal is the word for Shelburne Falls today,” says native Joe Gilbert. “It means change, and that’s not always positive for me.” Open, articulate, and direct, Joe is as complex as the place he finds confusing. A Harley owner, he photographs nature and reads history in his spare time. “I don’t do acupuncture or aromatherapy. I don’t like tofu or whatever health food is, and, except for the grocery store or going to the pharmacy, the stores don’t sell what I need.” But, when asked if he could think of even one shop that sold what he needed, Joe admitted that one summer day he found “the perfect bouquet of roses for a friend” at Plants for Pleasure along Bridge Street. “It was the first time in my life I’d ever bought flowers for anyone, and I had no idea what I was doing except that I wanted to buy roses. If I hadn’t gotten that idea in my mind, I might have driven by that place forever and never gone in.” The tension between preservation and growth experienced by so many American communities today surfaces in Shelburne Falls as one learns more about the town and its people. In spite of a “happening” image that attracts visitors, it also calls back those with powerful memories of rural New England, of a place that will always be called home. Nature is the word London-based investment manager John Atwater ’59, ’64G claims for this town. “Nature is the greatest artist in the world, and Shelburne Falls has some of the finest examples of its work. It pleases me to see the trees my mother helped plant along Bridge Street in the 1970s grown now and giving shade.” John’s detailed memories of boyhood summers spent in nearby East Charlemont are recounted with an unexpected wistfulness that visibly relaxes him. In those days, Shelburne Falls was the place that his family called “town.” “When I was a boy, we boarded the Lake Shore Limited in Chicago, and after going through the Hoosac Tunnel, we got off the next day at the depot that stood between Salmon Falls Marketplace and the Trolley Museum. From there we drove the short distance to the family farm. I loved going to Massachusetts in the summer, swimming in the river, playing in the woods. It is still so beautiful. I am now 71 years old and come back as often as I can. Someday,” says Atwater, “I hope to come for a visit and stay forever.” For some, family roots connect them inextricably to the landscape, yet the town’s current popularity tarnishes the bond. Conrad Totman ’58 left Shelburne Falls to pursue a master’s and doctorate from Harvard in East Asian history. He spent his career teaching first at Northwestern and then at Yale, retiring near New Haven a few years ago. Possessing a gentle worldliness, he admits that he feels like an outsider when he comes to “The Falls,” spending his visits almost exclusively at the family farm on Bardwell’s Ferry Road. Choosing his words carefully, he attributes the town’s change to a need to “help the tax base and keep the town attractive for anyone who wants to visit.” But his passion for the place is transparent during a drive from Shelburne Falls over country roads and past former farms that once were so much a part of his youth. Conrad Totman is the stage manager, and west county is Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. As the road winds and dips, the past becomes present as he talks about classmates and their families: girls he once loved, soldiers lost to war, and those long gone who encouraged a young farm boy to work hard and be the best he could be. “If I’d stayed home . . . well, I could have made a life for myself on the farm— a different sort of life to be certain. And, you know,” says Conrad Totman, “I would have enjoyed it.” * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Begun in 1978, the annual Bridge of Flowers Road Race draws hundreds of runners and is a New England institution. Chris Skelly ran the 2005 10K race in a respectable 54:37. Skelly ’93 is director of local government programs for the Massachusetts Historical Commission; he lives with his wife and son on the Buckland side of Shelburne Falls, rather than closer to his Boston office, because “there are very few places this special anywhere.” “It’s the hills,” says Skelly in his gentle, considered way. “The hills define this community we live in; they are my challenges as a distance runner; they are signs of strength and permanence, and the good feeling lasts and lasts on days when I conquer one.” Chris is passionate about preservation and knows the importance of preserving what is unique about Shelburne Falls. He documents a community by recording historically significant architectural features in great detail, then engages residents to work with him as preservation partners. He intuits that protecting what is left of rural Massachusetts’s hamlets and villages means preserving more than open space and farmland. “So much stands to be lost in west county alone if creative solutions are not put in place to save what remains of rural Massachusetts.” Skelly’s instincts tell him that he has picked the perfect time to launch a new nonprofit organization that will ensure that the historical and architectural uniqueness that defines Franklin County—the 26-town region he and 70,000 others call home—will survive. Tradition and a respect for the old ways brought Mike McCusker ’73 to Shelburne Falls: “For me there is only one word for this place: It’s all about community.” McCusker bought a village institution in 1977—the Halberg family’s store on the Buckland side of Shelburne Falls—and opened it as McCusker’s Market in 1979. While the store is a Shelburne Falls icon, McCusker admits that 26 years ago he did not imagine operating anything but a grocery store for local residents and that he would “take it a year at a time and, hopefully, make it.” “I remember people telling me we would be gone and forgotten in two years. I did not know what to expect. We celebrated being open 25 years in 2004. It was one of those goals you only hope you reach,” says McCusker. He remembers planning his first big fix-up to the market; he found the money to put up a sign that would really last. “Each time I looked at it I would remember that my goal was to work hard and have a store that would be there for a very long time. You know, that sign is still there.” Perhaps no businessperson in the village wears a larger bull’s eye on his back than McCusker. To some he represents the entrepreneurial spirit that has put Shelburne Falls on the map, that has made it a destination for tourists from all over the world. To others he represents the change outsiders have brought to a village they no longer recognize: a store that sells tofu, vitamin supplements, and health food. But, after living here for nearly 30 years, Mike bristles when challenged about his place in this community. “I’ve lived here since 1976; my store is open seven days a week. I helped to start several special events that bring added income to this place. One of my passions is helping causes that benefit those who live in the hill towns. This is my home. It is not a ‘local versus nonlocal’ issue in this village. We are an us,” says McCusker. “I married the daughter of the owners of Baker’s Pharmacy, a community treasure. We raised our son here. We are all part of a multicolored tapestry called local business. It’s the variety of what’s here that makes it such a vibrant place, for local residents as well as for tourists. “My annual payroll is $300,000, money earned by local people and funneled back into the community. Yes, those of us who came here from elsewhere, even 30-plus years ago, could be blamed, I guess, for the failure of businesses that were here decades before us. But the local community was not supporting those businesses,” says McCusker. The bottom line for any business, McCusker says, is you can’t stay open if people are not coming through your door wanting what you sell. “Here in Shelburne Falls there is really something for everyone . . . it just depends on who it is that is looking and what they are looking for.” McCusker hesitates a moment, looking out onto Bridge Street. The late summer afternoon tableau features latte-sipping tourists, local residents pushing baby strollers, restaurateurs setting out tables for al fresco dining, and bare-chested teens playing HackySack, seemingly oblivious to the world around them. “I guess this place is that simple,” surmises McCusker, “and that complicated.”

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Falling for Shelburne Falls

Falling for Shelburne Falls: more images