Stories from the Early October issue of The People's Press

A New Playground at Hubbard Park Gains Momentum
By C.S. Purcell
I was one of the many children who frequented Hubbard Park – and the playground – with my parents. My husband, who grew up in Meriden and spent a lot of time at the park, jokes that we must have met there without realizing it. Perhaps shared a swing… But even in the 1970s and 80s, the playground seemed somehow deficient to me. I would go there and get bored quite quickly. As a child, I wasn’t even thinking how impossible a place it was to access for children of different abilities, parents, or caregivers. Never mind the scare my mother must have gotten each time we wandered toward the road.
So, although I have some nostalgia about that playground (heck, I might have met my husband there!), as I look forward to having my own children, I am happy to hear “our” park is getting a new and much-needed playscape.
I am sure many-a-parent had the same thought in mind after leaving the current Hubbard Park playground – it is outdated, no longer safe, and not accessible to children of all abilities, too close to the road…
And many parents felt they were forced to go outside of Meriden to seek out other options, yet, as Christian Bourdan, Recreation Supervisor of the Meriden Parks and Recreation Department, says, “It is no secret that the playground is outdated. Hubbard Park is Meriden’s biggest park and our biggest out-of-town attraction. Hubbard Park deserves a better playground.”
One Meriden mom, Dawn Reynolds, thought, “What would it take to get a new playground for Hubbard Park?” And she began to explore that option two years ago. She never imagined there would be so much involved in getting something that seemed so obvious and elementary underway. And, so, two years later, after hours of footwork, planning, politics and such, the brainchild of Reynolds is now a project that belongs to everyone in Meriden.
Although the project was met with some initial resistance, most of the residents in Meriden have met the concept of the new playground with enthusiasm. The two-person committee consisting of Dawn A. Reynolds and Chris Bourdon, who had volunteered himself to be the city liaison, now has grown to include Amy Filippedes, Maryanne Santos, Joan Goodman, and Sarah Bourdon.
At a public meeting on September 26 at the Meriden Public Library, residents were able to listen to the recent developments of the playground, where it is going, what is still needed to bring the project to fruition, and they were also allowed to share their ideas of what they would like to see in the playground.
“The playground design is still open and it is everybody’s project. We want your input,” Reynolds said.
There are preliminary drawings based on the research done by the committee members, but the drawings are to give a scope and a starting point to what the playground equipment options are.
For example, the committee has gone around to different playgrounds to look at the colors, textures, building materials, ground materials and have compiled that information to use for the new playground the best of what they’ve explored.
The most important aspect of the playground is that it is barrier free so that children of all capabilities have a place to play together.
As Joan Goodman said, her son has a friend in his class that uses a wheelchair. At recess, she is not able to play games with him and the other kids on the playscape, and that makes her son sad. He can't invite her to play at the park after school because there is no place in Meriden to do that. “That is not right. She is one of my inspirations for working on this playground.
“With this playground, children of all abilities can play side by side and have fun together. When children play together and have fun, they learn about one another and differences don't matter. They take this with them as they grow up,” Goodman said.
Some barrier-free aspects already proposed are ramped surfaces, Braille boards, sign-language panels, and a sensory garden with music stations, mirror panels, textured surfaces, and flowers and plants with different scents, colors and textures.
Other features would include easy access for strollers and wheelchairs, security features (such as cameras with direct feed to the police station), nearby clean bathrooms, a shaded pavilion, a walkway around the playground for kids to ride their bikes, for parents to walk, a fenced-in area. The playground area would have two separate age-appropriate playscapes. For example, the playscape created for 2 – 5 year olds would include a roller slide, a tunnel, mirror panels, and cube steps, while the playscape for 6 years and older would have a climbing wall, wave slides, and overhead climbing bars.
During Tuesday night’s meeting, audience participation was encouraged. In addition to the committee members and mediator David Radcliffe of Meriden Children First Initiative, audience members included Mayor Mark Benigni, Meriden City Council Majority Leader Stephen T. Zerio, Director of the Meriden Health Department Eloise Hudd, Representatives of both Non-Profit Organizations and local Companies, as well a wealth of parents and specialists who wanted to be a part of the process to make the playground the best it could be. Some of the ideas that were brought up were:
Color demarcation for elevation (stairs) for visually impaired
Wheelchair accessible swings
Picnic tables that have cutouts so the wheel chairs can come right up to the tables
Sand tables
Handicap parking or drop off
Benches
Special events once the playground is opened
Slides, swings, monkey bars – “the classics”
Fenced area around the 2 – 5 playscape section
Some themes: castle, daffodils, a Meriden theme, and Noah’s Ark (for Noah’s Ark of Hope)
But, as with any project worth the effort, there is an equal amount of volunteer and fund support needed. As Zerio so eloquently stated, “I look forward to learning more about the Hubbard Park Playground Committee’s efforts, both in design and fund-raising, and I urge all who love the laughter of children at play to contribute or become involved in a manner comfortable to you. There’s no doubt, you’ll feel good about yourself.”
There are a lot of people who want to get this project off the ground, and that takes time and money. Maryann Santos has been critical in writing grant applications. “Working on the Hubbard Park Playground project has opened my eyes to the caring and generous world of foundations – both big and small – that share our passion of helping children of all capabilities. The grants we’ve received so far have given us a head start in raising the $230,000 needed to complete the project.”
Currently, Santos has $140,000 in pending grant applications. Some monies recorded to date include $20,000 from Cuno, $12,000 from Napier, and $1,000 through Probus, a subsidiary of Rotary Club. Other local companies, such as Bob’s Furniture and Target have given gift certificates, which can be used directly for the project or as raffle prizes to raise money. Staples has donated copying and other supplies, which has been crucial in printing fliers and meeting notes, along with many others that will be listed in future articles.
“It is wonderful that over $60,000 has been raised so far, but we still have a long way to go,” Reynolds says. “We would love to continue to get large grants. We hope to make more relationships with civic organizations that can make the project one of their own. We need a lot of smaller contributions, too, from a lot of different people.”
The committee also needs volunteers for fundraising both in organizing the events and helping out at other’s events, making fundraising calls, getting supplies and donating supplies. Individuals and local companies can do a lot to help out.
A newly established non-profit organization in memory of Noah Bourdon is Noah’s Ark of Hope, which has raised $10,000 toward the playground. (See “Seasons of Love”)
You can also contribute to the playground by attending any of the following fundraising events:
"A Night for Noah" Hanover School Pasta Dinner
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
OH Platt High School
5:00 to 7:30 p.m.
Adults $10.00, Children (4-12) $5.00, Children 3 and under Free
Tickets are available at the door or may be purchased at:
Hanover School (Sept. 27 - 29th, 8:00 a.m. – 9:00 a.m. OR 3:30 p.m. - 4:30 p.m.)
Tom's Place (South Meriden)
Brookside Package Store (Broad Street)
Platt High School's Open House (Thursday October 5th, 6:30 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.)
If you would like to volunteer for this event please call Suzanne Orozco at Hanover School at 203/235-6359.
“A Night for Noah” Cocktail Party
Friday, November 3, 2006
Triple Crown Room, Colts Neck, New Jersey 7:00 p.m.
For more information contact Allyson Zenkert at noahsarkofhope@yahoo.com
“A Night for Noah” Dance featuring Riverstreet
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Mountainside Outing Club
8:00 p.m.
Ticket Info:
Tickets are $20 and can be purchased at the following locations in Meriden:
JC Music
529 West Main Street
Fishers Fine Foods
21 South Colony Street
Katz Sports Shop
519 West Main Street
Valencia Liquors
1231 East Main Street
If you are interested in purchasing tickets or would like to volunteer for this event please call Kathy Showerda at 203/235-4508 or Nancy Crispino at 203/237-7908
Playground Design Party at the City of Meriden Autumn Fest at Hubbard Park
Kids (ages 4 - 12) we need your ideas!
Come design what you want on the new Hubbard Park Playground for children of all abilities!
When: Saturday October 21st from 1:30 to 3:00 p.m.
For more information about the new Hubbard Park Playground, email HubbardParkPlayground@peoplespressnews.com or go to www.noahsarkofhope.com.


Noah’s Ark of Hope, Inc. Love to Play. Play to Grow. Grow to Love.
By Sarah Bogdanski – Bourdon & Christian Bourdon

The main theme of the song “Seasons of Love” from the play Rent is how is the life of someone measured? With the recent loss of our son Noah we have had to look at this in many ways. What was the purpose of his life? How do we show others who never met him what his one year meant, what he was like and how he loved? What will be the ripple effect of his life? Can one year really make a difference? In Noah’s short life he experienced many things: hikes through Meriden’s beautiful trails, feeding the ducks, flying on a plane, swimming in the Caribbean, and playing on playgrounds at many of Meriden’s parks. He also gave so much to those who he loved. His life was measured in kisses, in giggles, and in milestones. Now we have found ourselves learning a new way of measuring life. With the creation of our family and community foundation called Noah’s Ark of Hope, Inc. we plan on doing just that. Our experience in losing a child and our parenthood is not a unique one – many parents who have lost children have contacted us. We are trying to focus on something positive - something that will give us hope. We look to Meriden’s citizens not just to support this project because of our family and our story but because of its importance to all families. It is a unique opportunity to invest in the present and in the future. This project will come to fruition for Meriden’s children right now. Everyone will have someone in their lives that could benefit: grandchildren, cousins, nieces, nephews, siblings, etc.
For the past two years, a playground committee of dedicated members has been working hard to get a barrier free playground built in Hubbard Park. We are joining in on the efforts to raise awareness and dollars for this project. Who knows? Children who play on it now may even bring their children here someday. Noah’s Ark of Hope, Inc. and our pledge to raise $100,000.00 for this playground is our attempt to pay forward all the support and assistance we continue to receive every day. We will be able to measure Noah’s life and its ripples through this playground and other future projects of the Noah’s Ark of Hope, Inc. Foundation. And for us, this playground will give us something to put all of our positive energy into – a place where we will be able to celebrate the life of our “little man” every time we see a child smiling within its walls. Is that not how we all strive to have our lives measured? In happiness, in love, and above all else, in Hope.


Girls Inc. – A Place Where Girls Can Learn to Be Strong, Smart, and Bold
“We inspire girls to be strong, smart, and bold,” says Michelle Bourdeau, Executive Director of Girls Inc. “And everything we do here encompasses that mission.”
For eighty-seven years, this organization has helped instill values of strength, esteem, and self worth into Meriden’s girls and young women. Originally called the Meriden Girls Club at its inception on September 19, 1919, the club was created at the dawn of women’s suffrage. The club was organized by Meriden’s Woman’s Club for young women 16 years and older and was noted that they enjoyed cooking, sewing, knitting and books. By 1937, additional classes were offered, such as volleyball, basketball and roller-skating, and it expanded its age range to 7 to 18 years old. In 1948 the organization became an affiliate of Girls Club of America, and in 1989 became an affiliate member of Girls Incorporated, a national youth organization. Today, Girls Inc. includes programs for girls aged 6 to 18.
The Meriden chapter has what they call “traditional programming,” which includes gymnastics, dancing, cooking, and crafts. “In addition, we have fabulous national programs that are focused on areas where women generally fall short,” Bourdeau says. The national chapter calls this set of programs Operation Short, which covers science, math and relative technology. Girls become exposed to these areas with fun, hands-on activities. “For example, the girls will work together to build a volcano. And they will learn from different resources how a volcano erupts. They carry the project through to its fruition. And in the process, they are learning to ask great questions and they are practicing critical thinking,” Bourdeau says. “In school, these are the subjects that girls are shown to take a back seat in and boys ask the questions. But we are giving girls the skills to take the front seat in school.”
For older girls, Girls Inc. provides the education and confidence they need to take on career rolls that are generally seated by men, such as the financial and science industries. For example, Girls Inc. has an interactive stock market game that teaches the girls what it would be like to work as a broker. In addition, Girls Inc. has a great economic literacy program that teaches young women how to take control of their finances, from getting credit, what it means to owe creditors, savings, and how to take advantage of scholarship opportunities for college.
Obviously body image and self esteem is crucial. Girls Inc.’s newest program, which is being launched this fall, is called Media Literacy. It has the girls stop to take a look at how media portrays women, often in a negative or warped sense, and that so much of a woman’s worth is wrapped up in perfect appearance. “The program helps teach the girls to love their own bodies, to have self esteem and maintain a positive self image, and steps they can take to change the way the media portrays women,” Bourdeau says.
Girls Inc. is opened not just to girls in Meriden, but to all girls in the surrounding area. A recent addition to the Girls Inc. line up is a sampler program offered through the Wallingford Parks and Recreation. “We hope to make it easier for Wallingford residents to take advantage of the empowering and fun programs we offer,” Bourdeau says.
Girls Inc. is lucky to have their center at a great location on 130 Lincoln Street. In 1919, the first meeting was held in a small, rented room. As the participation and programs expanded, the Meriden Girls Club bought the Italian American Club on Grove Street in 1937. In 1951, Mrs. James Platt left her residence, the current location of Girls Inc., to the Club in memory of her daughter Margaret. Six years later, a gymnasium was added to the house and in 1981 a pool was added as well.
Girls Inc. offers programs all year long, and in the summer, many of the activities are performed outside. Girls Inc. realized they needed a shaded area to have picnics, do outside projects and read. In 2005, Girls Inc. was the non-profit recipient of the Silver City Brewfest, so they submitted the creation of a pavilion as the funded project for the Brewfest. On August 29 , 2006, the Pavillion was dedicated in memory of Jessica Short, who loved attending the Girls Inc. summer camp. “Each year, there is an end-of-camp show where the girls get to show off their talent. Jessica looked forward to this show every year, and she loved the outdoors,” Bourdeau says. “I thought to name the Pavillion in her memory would be a really special way to memorialize her family’s memories of her time spent here.”
Michelle Bourdeau considers herself lucky to be a part of such a great organization. Bourdeau is a graduate of New England College in MA and has worked for organizations such as United Way of Meriden and Wallingford as the Associate Director and for Girl Scouts Connecticut Trails Council in Fund Development.
Two years ago, Bourdeau wanted to come back to a position that was more hands on with the children, so she came to Girls Inc. as the Program Director. “I knew I always wanted to be an executive director of non-profit, and I love working with children but am really passionate about helping young girls empower themselves. When the position for Executive Director of Girls Inc. opened, I felt it was a natural fit for me and I jumped at the opportunity right away.”
Bourdeau has a lot of paperwork to do on a regular basis to keep the organization running, but she still has time to get to know every girl that walks through the door. “Each girl has her own personality. One of the things I love most is seeing how much each girl’s self esteem grows, how much fun they have, and how their faces light up when they walk through the door, work on projects and interact with the staff and peers. It makes it all worth it to me. I love my job,” says Bourdeau.
All of the programs at Girls Inc. are age appropriate, hands on, and fun. And the girls love coming to a place where they have positive role models and to a place where they can have fun and be themselves. They will carry with them through life the keys learned at Girls Inc.: how to be strong, smart, and bold.

Pasta Dinner Fundraiser to Benefit Ill Meriden Toddler
A Meriden couple coping with their son's extremely rare disease will be the beneficiaries of a Pasta Dinner Fundraiser to be held on Saturday, October 14th, from 3 p.m. to 7 .pm., at the South Meriden Firehouse, located on 31 Camp Street in South Meriden. The event, which will be held rain or shine, will help with the medical bills for one-year-old Hunter Pageau, son of Adam and Sharon Agli~Pageau.
Hunter has been diagnosed with SMARD1, which stands for Spinal Muscular Atrophy with Respiratory Distress. There are only 60 worldwide cases of this particular condition, which is progressively debilitating and fatal.
There is no cure, but there is hope!
Hunter has been hospitalized since April 3rd, resulting in massive medical bills beyond what Insurance will cover. Currently, the Pageaus are at Children's Specialized Hospital in Mountainside, NJ, and are working diligently to bring Hunter back home to CT. They are unfortunately in a hold pattern there, as they are unable to attain a Private Duty Nursing staff to assist with Hunter's care at home. There is a palpable nursing shortage, and to find qualified pediatric nursing staff has been a challenge.
Sharon Agli~Pageau was born and raised in South Meriden, and local contacts are coming together to organize this upcoming fundraiser to help her, her husband and their baby. After 6 months in various hospitals, Sharon decided to contact the Mayor and various City Council members in an effort to initiate fundraising options for Hunter. Most notably, she was touched by the response provided to her by Keith Gordon, Deputy Chief of South Meriden Vol Fire and Deputy Leader of the Meriden City Council.
Keith contacted Sharon and told her that while he receives many requests for assistance, he was immediately drawn to help Sharon and her family, as Hunter's story was so moving. Keith and Sharon have worked together for a month on putting this fundraiser together and very much hope it to be a success! In addition to the dinner, there will be soda and dessert, a 50/50 Drawing and Raffles, along with face painting and a fire truck demonstration for the kids.
The Pageaus want to inform as many people as possible about SMA, of which every 1 in 40 people are carriers. This condition involves a protein mutation, which destroys the nerves controlling voluntary muscle movement.
Hunter, for example, can barely move his legs. His condition is expected to advance upward, eventually leaving him in a state of paralysis.
The life expectancy for SMARD1 is 2 and younger, with there being a few exceptions. From the moment he was born, Hunter was unable to breathe effectively because his diaphragm is paralyzed, which is a very rare occurrence. For the first 6 months of his life, prior to hospitalization, he breathed utilizing his secondary muscles of respiration, and it was apparent to all that he was struggling to move air through his body. He now requires the use of a ventilator to breathe.
Hunter is an amazingly happy child and he is a true champion. He greets and embraces each and every day with a joy and exuberance that lights up the room and touches all who interact with him. Sharon wants everyone to know that Hunter has gifts to share with anyone who will take the time witness his life. With just turning one recently, he has already affected so many others with his positive demeanor and carries a strong message of faith and hope to all.
The Pageaus look forward to meeting new friends and regreeting old friends at the October 14th Fundraiser. They thank you in advance for your participation and support! For more information or to make a donation, please contact Keith Gordon at (203) 537-1016.

Autumn is Here! Don’t miss Autumn Fest 2006 at Hubbard Park
What would autumn be without festivals? Without the smell and taste of hot cider, caramel apples, and the sound of children laughing?
Enjoy a crisp autumn Saturday afternoon at one of the areas most amusing autumn festivals: Autumn Fest 2006 at Hubbard Park on October 21, from 1 – 4 p.m.
Eighteen years and still growing, this year’s activities include wagon rides by Allegra Farms, kids’ arts & crafts, face painting, and a moonwalk.
Like apple pie? How much could you eat? A whole pie? How about two pies? Or more? Come show ‘em what you got at the Marianna’s Belltop Bakery Pie Eating Contest at 3:30 p.m.
What fair would be complete without the seasonal refreshments of caramel apples and hot cider – mmmm! Although there is no official contest, you can still eat as much as you like!
The highlight of the day will be the Hubbard Park Pumpkin Patch, where, for the donation of a canned or boxed food item (for the Meriden Soup Kitchen), children will have the opportunity to pick their very own Halloween pumpkin. Special thanks to High Hill Orchard for all the organic goodies. Afterwards, they can take it to a "decoration station,” where kids can paint their new-found round orange friends.
The Hubbard Park Playground Committee is holding a "Playground Design Party" in conjunction with the festival from 1:30 - 3:00 p.m. The committee is calling all kids (ages 4 - 12) – for their design ideas! There is a new playground coming to Hubbard Park for children of all abilities. Your children can share in the creativity by showing us their design ideas and things they think would be fun to include in the new playground – after all, it is for the children!
So join everyone at Autumn Fest 2006 and remember all the reasons you love the fall.


Take a Peep Around Connecticut: Top Places to Leaf Peep in the State
By C.S. Purcell
I have always felt lucky to live in New England – especially in the autumn. No where else in the country can boast a wide variety of burnt umbers, ambers, reds, oranges, and browns, and colorful mountain ranges than right here in New England. And if you know me, you know I live for autumn.
I love going to the White Mountains in New Hampshire, but truth be told, many of my favorite spots are closer to home. Right in my backyard, for example, I enjoy early autumn afternoon walks with my husband and dogs at Wadsworth Park in Middletown. The leaves fall and accumulate on the paths and we love to crunch them beneath our feet (and paws) and kick them as we go along. The waterfalls make for a perfect stopping point. And the view from the top of Castle Craig is breathtaking, too. Also a little closer to home, where Rte 691 becomes Rte 66, there is a great little hike at the Metacomet-Mettabasset Trail near Black Pond in Middlefield. In fact, the Metacomet-Mettabasset Trail spans 101 miles in Connecticut, running along waterfalls, forests, lakes, steams, vernal pools with views that overlook rural towns, river valleys, and unfragmented forests. It offers a great way to enjoy autumn peeps while observing the wild, pastoral and scenic views of what makes Connecticut a great New England town. I also like to pick up the trail heading south off Route 77.
Another one of my favorite places to just hang out and enjoy a nice autumn picnic is Wickham Park in Manchester (and East Hartford). When I was in college, I would spend Friday afternoons in one of the many beautiful gardens (my favorites are the Oriental Garden and the Lotus Garden), enjoying the ducks and squirrels. The park is a non-profit, private foundation with 250 acres of gardens, open fields, woodlands, ponds, picnic areas, sports facilities, and other attractions.
When I was a child, my family would spend most weekends hiking at Sleeping Giant in Hamden. Years later when I attended Quinnipiac College, it was a regular place for me to escape studies and enjoy the crisp autumn air on the trails, rock ledge look overs and Stone Tower.
And over the past few years, a family favorite has become Talcott Mountain State Park in Simsbury where you have panoramic views of the colorful mountain range from Heublein Tower.
While those are my personal favorites, there are many other places I enjoy peeping around the state. Some of the best places include nice hikes with towers as a stopping point. Here are a few others around the state:
Haystack Mountain State Park, West Norfolk, Stone TowerFrom Norfolk, at the junction of Routes 44 and 272, take 272 north a half mile to the park entrance on the left. The entry road leads to the parking area, and a short trail walk of 15 minutes leads to the tower, providing a 360-degree panorama of the countryside.
Macedonia Brook State Park, Warren, Cobble MountainFrom Kent, take Route 341 west two miles to Macedonia. Take the first right onto Macedonia Brook Road into the park, bearing left at the fork. From the parking lot, take Cobble Mountain Trail, blazed white. Views are from the Harlem Valley into the Taconic and Catskill Mountains. I love Litchfield County because it really feels so New England to me with many great small, quaint towns and rolling hills.
You might want to make Kent Falls one of your stopping points, too. Kent Falls State Park is often called “The Jewel of the Inland Parks” with its scenic view of 17 different waterfalls. The falls is fed by wetlands which are located in Warren, and empties directly into the Housatonic River, which is across the street from the park.
A trail winds a quarter of a mile up along the falls and although it is steep, it isn’t too difficult to walk. In 2006 a 1.1 million dollar trail renovation was finished, which provided new viewing platforms and a redesigned trail.
Mohawk State Forest, Cornwall, Lookout TowerFrom Torrington, drive west on Route 4 for 14 miles to the park entrance, Toumey Road, on the left. At the 'T' intersection, turn right onto Mohawk Mountain Road. The Lookout Tower is at the end. Scenic vistas to the north and west include the Catskill, Taconic, and Berkshire ranges. Hikers can pick up the blue-blazed Mattatuck or Mohawk Trails, which cross the site.
Pachaug State Forest, Voluntown, Mt. Misery OverlookForest entrance is on Route 49, .6 miles north of Voluntown. Turn left into entrance and drive two miles west; bear left at the fork to parking lot. Woods access road on left leads to overlook.
Peoples State Forest, Barkhamsted, Chaugnam LookoutI almost want to rename this one the People’s Press State Forest. But all joking aside, you will enjoy great leaf peeping here. At the junction of Routes 318 and 181 in Pleasant Valley, travel east over the bridge and take the first left onto East River Road. The Jessie Gerard Trailhead is 2.4 miles ahead on the right. The yellow-blazed trail leads to two lookouts.
Shenipsit State Forest, Somers, Observation TowerFrom Somers, take Route 190 east for 1.25 miles to blinking yellow traffic light. Turn right on Gulf Road and drive 2.25 miles to Soap Stone Mountain Road (the first right after Mountain View Road). The road leads to the tower parking lot. The blue-blazed Shenipsit Trail runs by the tower.
Of course, our state is filled with so many great places to enjoy a full, crisp autumn of leaf peeping, New England style. Although I have named just a few, they should keep you busy for a little while. Enjoy!


A Safe Haven for Our Children

T. W. Werkheiser

As a parent you wonder who your children are spending time with, if they are safe, staying out of trouble, getting their homework done….and many other things. One common concern that I am sure many of you can relate to, is having trouble finding a safe place for your children to go after school, before you come home from work.

Well, we have had a safe and caring place all along. It is the Boys & Girls Club (BGC) located on Grand Street in Wallingford! I am sure you have heard of it, but do you really know what they can offer you and your child? If you do not live in Wallingford you can find any club in the State by visiting their national webpage at bgca.org.

Phyllis Murray can tell you all about the benefits of the BGC. She has been at that location for 16 years. Clearly she is a very dedicated woman! She is the Club Director and oversees 6 staff as well as all of the kids in her care. Her goal has been the same every day for the past 16 years. She wants to serve children, keep them safe off the street and provide them with an environment in which they can grow and thrive. The way in which this is accomplished is by providing consistent care and supervision while expecting positive and healthy behavior from the kids who participate in the club. There is a planned schedule when the children get to the club which include working on homework and participating in gym activities and other organized events. There are also events such as Family Day and the celebration of Halloween that are an addition to their regular schedule.

Many people believe in this mission of this organization and they contribute in a number of ways. The majority of them are volunteers that just work in different capacities. There is a Board of Directors as well as Board Members and many high school students who regularly help the students during homework time and also individuals who assist in fundraising and mentoring.

I asked Phyllis Murray what she liked most about her job. She said that her job is the most rewarding thing that she has ever done. She gets so much gratification out of watching the kids in the club grow from children to adults. Phyllis shared with me that there are other community organizations that support the club as well. They work with many organizations such as Parks and Recreation, Youth Officers and the Youth Service Bureau on a regular basis.

The Wallingford BGC club works with an average of 50 kids per day. The kids arrive at the club in several different ways including transportation by their parents or the club van or by walking. There are children from a number of other local towns including Hamden, North Haven, Middletown and Meriden. If you are interested in a membership, it is a reasonable $30 per year. During their open house they distribute $15 coupons. If you are interested please call 269-7535 or visit their website at bgcawallingford.org. On a final note, Phyllis shared that one of the most important things at the club is that the children know it is their club and the goal is to foster family environment.




Are you Ready to be Spooked?

T. W. Werkheiser

Halloween is coming…What will you be doing? Well, if you are ready to be spooked, Wallingford is the place to be! The “Trail of Terror,” to be exact! Your celebration of Halloween will not be complete without a visit to this nationally recognized scare fest.

The “Trail of Terror” is set on 1.5 acres and is a darkened trail of ghouls, goblins and surprises that will scare the be geezers out of you! The trail is 45 minutes of pure scariness and has 27 separate hair-raising scenes that include a haunted mansion, werewolves, Frankenstein, butcher shop, graveyard, school bus and puppet show. Every year is different!

I had the opportunity to speak with Wayne Barneschi, the owner and director of the month long event. Well, Wayne is not only a very interesting man, but has been involved in this event for the long haul! He is the original founder of this Halloween event which began in his front yard over 15 years ago. Wayne has been planning this years’ event since last November! Wayne, with the help of his friends, family and many, many volunteers (260 in total last year) not only enjoy scaring people, but they donate all of their time and proceeds! The talented volunteers range in age from ages 14 to 70+ and help in all aspects of the event including set-up, building, lighting, sound, details, decorating, acting, props, makeup, clean-up, admissions and the concession area! On any given night there are over 60 volunteers that keep you fearful and wanting more.

The Red Cross of Wallingford/Meriden is the recipient of their generosity and has been for 12 years. I spoke with Andrea Balsamo, the Branch Manager of the Red Cross and she nothing to say except for praise and accolades about the generosity of their donor. Andrea shared that last year, the proceeds were approximately $40,000. She added that Wayne is a great person to work with and they have a wonderful working relationship! If you are interested in donating to the Red Cross please call 265-6721.

The dates that the “Trail of Terror” is open are September 30, October 6-8, October 13-15, October 20-22, and October 27-30. The hours are Friday and Saturday 7pm – 11pm and Sunday 10 pm. The trail is closed on Halloween. It is important to know that in the past they have such a response that on some nights they can even sell out! Admission is $10 for adults and $5 for children. Adults only may purchase a Speed Pass to avoid waiting in line for $20. This may be worth it since there are often 3-4 hour waits.

The last weekend is the busiest time, so avoid the crowds and come in early October. The address is 60 North Plains Highway and come prepared to have a spine-chilling and ghostly experience! For more information and details on this year’s terrifying “The Caretaker” theme, visit their interactive website at TrailofTerror.com.

alarming, bloodcurdling, chilling, hairy*, horrendous, horrifying, intimidating, shocking, spooky, terrifying, unnerving, bizarre, crawly, creepy, fantastic, fearful, frightening, mysterious, scary, spectral, spookish, strange, supernatural, superstitious, uncanny, unearthly, weird

Poll of the Month: "What's your favorite thing about fall and why?"


My favorite thing about fall is scuffling through the crisp colorful leaves on a country lane with our children. Delighting in the fall scented air, gathering hickory nuts and watching the kids jump into piles of leaves. - Dorothy Gonick
**
What do I like about Fall? Everything! Crisp nights, crisper mornings, the smell of Autumns fallen leaves, walks in the woods, harvest time, pumpkins, canning chili sauce, apple and pumpkin everything, Jack-o-lanterns, Halloween, harvest festivals, "Art On The Wall,” Trick or Treats, colored leaves, leaves dancing in the wind, cornstalks, corn dollies, gathering herbs, A Vagabonds Song…
- Brenda Trumpold
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Jumping in the leaves - Emma
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Hikes in the woods as the leaves change and they begin to pile onto the paths – I like to kick them as I walk. – Maggie
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There is no better season. Halloween and Thanksgiving are two of my favorite holidays. I love the reds and oranges of decorations and of the leaves. - Kim
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Fall? I love the cool nights, and ever since my first days in college, I associate autumn, as well as spring, with new beginnings. Maybe it's due to the visible changes, too.
- George M
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Apple picking! – Marcia
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I love EVERYTHING about autumn. My mom and I have a tradition, since I was a little one, to gather under a cozy blanket and watch Legend of Sleepy Hollow while sipping hot cider and eating warmed apples with cinnamon. – Carrie
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Autumn decorations – pumpkins, mums, scare crows, and corn stalks. - Debbie
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I still get to golf and the courses are so picturesque with the foliage. - Jim
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My favorite thing about fall is that it’s not winter yet! - Andrea Atkins
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There is no one favorite thing about fall...
The weather, beautiful colors, apples, pumpkins, baking dishes with apples and pumpkins, apple cider, the list goes on...
- Linda
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My favorite thing about fall are the fairs highlighting the wonderful produce of this area. – Andrea Balsamo
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My favorite thing about fall is:
the color and smell of the leaves as they swirl to the ground
donning a favorite, well-worn sweater to brave the cool days and even colder nights
squirrels hurriedly scavenging for food ...tails twitching...little fingers grasping their bountiful harvest
autumnal skies of amber and gold
the smell of what promises to be the first of many fires in the coming wintry months
Can you tell fall is my favorite season?
- Tricia
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The beautiful colors of the changing leaves! - Angelina

**

This is hard to choose for me because Fall is my favorite season of all for many reasons. If I must pick my favorite thing about Fall is the cool air and it's smell. I love the smell of the leaves, and the sound of them on the ground. – Gina
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My favorite thing about fall is that it is NOT winter…
- Séan W. Moore
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I have lots of favorite autumn things - going to the Durham Fair, jumping in big leaf piles with my kids, seeing family and eating apples and honey on Rosh Hashanah, planting mums, making and eating pumpkin pie.
- Joan
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My favorite thing about Autumn are the colors…trees are turning, it's cooler and people seem to be excited because they know that the holidays are coming…puts people in a better and caring mood. - Marge
**

Poll of the Month: Apple or Pumpkin Pie?

Pumpkin for me, homemade Apple pie for my husband!
- dnordgren
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ApplePie of course!! Why??? Because the perfect crust along with the warm apples and cinnamon sugar combination can also smell as satisfying as it tastes. Warm with ice cream it is absolute heaven. – - -
- Gina
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Apple....'cause when you ask which came first it is always apple pie. Would you walk a mile for pumpkin pie...no you would not. For an apple pie, hey! I am already out the door!
- Bruce Franklin
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Choosing between pumpkin and apple pie is a real dilemma!
For fall it will be pumpkin, with apple the favorite year round.
Couldn’t one have a small slice of both and be happy?
- Dorothy Gonick
***
Homemade pumpkin pie is the best - made with evaporated milk, unless of course it is my sister Wayla's apple pie. She makes the best pie in the world. The apples are done and you don't get a mouthful of core! - Donna
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Why choose when you can have a slice of each on Thanksgiving Day? My family always has tons of pies - yum!
- Joan
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Mike says both. But I hate pumpkin pie. - Carrie


Neighbors

The Bible tells us to love our neighbors. I have a neighbor who, for so long as I have known him, lives by these words and I’m sure he has found happiness by making others happy.
Gene is an ex-serviceman who has kept me supplied with his own home-grown tomatoes for many years.
Gene watched me struggle as I tried in vain to get my plants to bear fruit (and not succeeding).
In the beginning Gene would fill a plastic bag with the red ripe tomatoes and tie the bag on my back porch railing. He’d then hurry back home and call me to look for my gift. This became a ritual until recently when he came to my door accompanied by his care-giver. He could see my gratitude in my face and it pleased him.
This past week when I answered the door, I was surprised to see him – this time alone. I know what an effort it must have been for him and I appreciate him thoughtfulness and would like to remember his birthday through The People’s Press. Gene’s birthday is the 23rd of September. Please wish him the happiest of birthdays and all I ask God to shower His blessings on him.
P.S. Gene has taken to lining a basket and covering the tomatoes with another white napkin which has touched me deeply.
You make me very happy, as well as you other friends. You are a great neighbor.
Mrs. Helen L. Dodge


Jonathan Gilbert
By Kenneth Cowing

Many of the people who played a role in Meriden’s history received only a brief mention in all of the books on the subject. Often brevity in writing history is necessary since time and space are always important factors in any publication. The narrative flow would have been flawed with too much detail about them and the readers would suffer from footnote-itis. Modern technology and greater access to records now enable us to obtain a better and more detailed view of how Meriden’s history was shaped and influenced by their lives and actions.
I consider Jonathan Gilbert to be one of the most interesting footnotes in Meriden’s history. Who was he? The only mention of him is the statement that Connecticut Colony granted him three hundred and fifty acres of land in a wilderness that later became Meriden. He was the first European to own land in that area but no existing record shows that he ever lived there.
Gilbert was born in England in 1618 the son of Thomas and Lydia Gilbert. He had five brothers: Thomas, Josiah, Ezekiel, Obadiah and John. One sister completed the family.
Gilbert’s life span of sixty four years (1618-1682) was during the dramatic and formative period of the new Connecticut Colony.
There is no known portrait of him. One can only assume he was of average height (5’6”) which was considered tall in the seventeenth century. It has been determined by scientists today that a man of Gilbert’s life style would have had a muscular build due to his activities of that time.
Gilbert married Mary White in 1645. The marriage ended four years later with Mary’s tragic death. This tragedy left Jonathan with a son, Jr. and a daughter, Mary. Later Gilbert married Mary Wells. That marriage lasted a lifetime. They had ten children in their family. Mary Wells was the ideal lifetime partner for Jonathan. It was unusual for a married couple to consider themselves as partners in those days. Like most English colonies, Connecticut was authorized to occupy a certain amount of land which was then occupied by people who had lived there for more than twenty thousand years. It was assumed that they were a conquered people. That was not entirely correct. All services needed by the colonists were supplied by themselves. Everyone was required to participate in matters of security and labor for the benefit of the community. Colony records show that Jonathan assumed more than his share required by the colony. His foresight was used to its advantage. He had the talent to recognize an opportunity before it was obvious to others. He took advantage of this and used it wisely. One example was the fact that he became a close friend of Thomas Stanton who was the official interpreter for the native-American tribes in the area. When Stanton left Connecticut Colony for another position, Gilbert was the obvious choice as Stanton’s replacement as his activities increased his appointments by the colony required more responsibility. His WORD MISSING with the native-American tribes led to his appointment as a constable and later Marshall of Connecticut Colony. At the age of thirty-two he became the clerk of the Hartford Militia and served as its purchasing agent. Seven years later he became a trooper in the cavalry unit of this militia. The commander of this unit was Captain John Mason.
During King Philip’s war in 1675, Gilbert served in the cavalry under the command of Captain Thomas Brattle. Later he became the commander of the Hartford Cavalry Unit with a commission of Coronet. His service as Marshall of Connecticut Colony, which began in 1662, continued for many years. Travel between Hartford and New Haven a distance of thirty-six miles, became more frequent. Gilbert was a regular traveler and reported the dangers of the travel thru this wilderness. He suggested a place of shelter for travelers. In 1661 the colony granted him three hundred and fifty acres with instructions to build such a shelter. This was done and Gilbert hired Edward Higby to operate the shelter which became a tavern. Two years later Gilbert two acres which is now in the center of Hartford near the Travelers Insurance Company.
At this location he built his home and a tavern. The tavern became the center of most official activities of the colony. The location was well suited to accommodate the travelers who used the Connecticut River for travel. This was the main method of contact for the Colony’s commercial activity with other colonies and Europe.
Jonathan Gilbert was at the center of all this activity, and he profited from it with all the contacts he acquired.
He served as a Deputy to the colony legislature for several years.
As was the custom, the innkeeper’s entire family worked in the tavern. Mrs. Gilbert had a fine business sense that was just as alert as her husbands’. One of the family members who worked in the tavern was Gilbert’s daughter, Sarah. Her career at the tavern ended when she met Captain Andrew Belcher. He was a frequent visitor to the tavern. Sarah and Andrew Belcher were married and this marriage was the beginning of a new era in what became Meriden.
The Belcher family can be best described as affluent and of great influence in all levels of commercial activity as well as social contacts that included English Royalty. They were prominent in the import-export activity in the colonies and Europe.
The year was 1682. After a long and successful life, Jonathan Gilbert’s life ended at sixty-four years, which was considered a long life span in the seventeenth century. He left his wife, Mary and nine children that founded a family that have descendents today.
His descendents include a Governor of Massachusetts and New Hampshire Colonies, a Lieutenant Governor and Chief Justice of Nova Scotia and a Commander in the British Navy. Noah Webster and Sir Winston Churchill (through the Jerome Family) are descendents of Jonathan Gilbert’s family.
Jonathan Gilbert’s estate was one of the largest in the colony. It amounted to over twenty two hundred pounds. His land ownership included most of what is now Meriden and some land in the present town of Berlin.
Andrew Belcher, Gilbert’s son-in-law purchased the land owned by Gilbert from the estate. He owned most of what is Meriden today. Belcher hired someone to operate the tavern in Meriden. It was known as Belcher Tavern until it was demolished many years later.
Jonathan was fortunate in many respects. His success and accomplishments were many. He did not escape tragedy. One event must have remained in his memory all of his life.
The Tragedy will appear in another issue. Exodus 22:18

References:
Curtis George M “A century of Meriden, Meriden, Ct. 1906”
Bodge, George M “Soldiers in King Philip’s War”
Genealogical Pub Co. Baltimore Md. 1997
Trumbull, Benjamin, “A Complete History of Connecticut”
H.D. Utley 1898
Davis, Chas HS “History of Wallingford, Conn., Meriden & Cheshire 1870”
Brainard, Torry & Gilbert, “The Gilbert Family “ Anthem Press 1953
Connecticut Colony Records



NATURE AS A MIRROR
by Dorothy Gonick
SQUASH
Cucurbita,
Botanical name for squash.
I prefer ‘tasty’.

Last summer while harvesting squash in the sun drenched field, we remembered the frosty winter day when the seed catalogues arrived. Browsing through the colorful pages brightened that wintry day with dreams of the summer plans that my sisters May, Elaine and I had made to raise squash and sell them at our roadside stand. We made our choices of the many varieties of squash: summer yellow and green zucchini; butternut and pattypan; crookneck and spaghetti; turban, acorn and Hubbard; and of course pumpkin for pies and Halloween. God must have had fun designing so many delightful varieties of squash.
The seeds arrived and on an early spring day we planted them in freshly prepared garden soil--six seeds in each small hill of soil as Dad instructed. By summer the vines covered the ground with their sprawling leaves and twining tendrils and golden yellow blossoms. We kept close watch on the budding squash, and set up a table under the maple tree by the road to be ready to sell them. We detested the job of removing squash bugs, slugs and squirmy worms who were damaging our crop, so we made up a game to see who collected the most, and had some laughs while saving our precious crop.
When we picked the first of the yellow summer squash and green zucchini, we arranged them in baskets on the table, ready for customers, and put up our sign: FRESH SQUASH FOR SALE. We were in business! An old cigar box was our cash register to hold the cash we dreamed of spending for Christmas gifts.
One of our first customers was old Doc Jones with his cheery “Hello.” After choosing his squash he began telling a story of how the Indians taught the Pilgrims to grow squash and beans and corn. The Indians called them the ‘Three Sisters’ and grew them together because the bean plants climbed the tall corn stalks for support; and the squash flourished in their shade and covered the ground with vines that discouraged weeds from growing. A clever arrangement that reminded him of friends who become as ‘sisters’ in our lives - each with their individual, personal character adding color and diversity to life. Another day he told us that the Narragansett Indians called squash askutasquash (literally “a green thing eaten raw”). We like them cooked and so did he.
Throughout the summer the pattypan, crookneck, butternut, acorn, and spaghetti ripened. Each day we were out early to harvest the squash and arrange the display ready for customers. When the Hubbard squash and pumpkins were harvested, people bought them for winter storage and for Halloween and Thanksgiving baking. We made sure that some pumpkins were saved for us to carve for Halloween and for Mom to bake her special mouth-watering pumpkin pies. Roasting the seeds was a bonus treat.
That was a memorable year. It was hard work, but we enjoyed working together and meeting all the customers. Being able to spend our own money on Christmas gifts gave us a very grown-up feeling.


DEAR HOUSEWIVES
Dear Readers,

Thank you for taking the time to read our column. We hope you enjoy it! We welcome questions regarding but not limited to: household tips, family life, movie and/or book reviews, customer service issues. You ask, we will answer. All questions are confidential.

Happy Autumnal Equinox one and all,

June and Flora


This month's issue is dedicated to June's new baby. Best wishes to June and her family during this most special time in their lives.

This month is Tip Month!


Housewives Tip: When your hair dryer has lint build up in the vents, take your vacuum nozzle and vacuum the lint out in seconds!


Shopping Tip: Shop locally for produce. Support your local farms year round!

Reading Tip: Read one "classic" every year

Kindness Tip: Anonymously pay for the guy's (or gal's) coffee behind you in line at the coffee counter.

Family Tip: NO TV for one week. You may be amazed at how creative your children can be!

Fun Tip: Go pumpkin picking and then paint the faces on them! The last longer and look terrific!

And lastly, Joke time: Why did everyone want the mushroom to come to the party? Because he was a fungi!


Cold Feet
by Catherine Turner-Baiet

I was wearing my favorite sandals, thoroughly enjoying the freedom of naked toes as my companion and I were en route to Vermont. It was a picture-perfect summer day with a crystal clear, sapphire sky and not a trace of haze. A few wispy cotton clouds wafted slowly above us, but never accumulated enough mass to block the sun’s radiance. The sheer whiteness of them served as stark contrast to the deep blueness of the canopy above us. The intense heat and humidity that had gripped the northeast for days on end had finally dissipated and it was quite comfortable traveling without air-conditioning. Windows wide open, the wind, driven by highway speed and passing traffic blew strands of hair all about my face. Propping my feet on the dashboard, wiggling my toes in the warm breezes, I gazed all around me at the lush greenery and fertile fields surrounding the Connecticut River and the easternmost ridges of the Berkshires.
We took Exit 19 off I-91 to make a customary stop at Table and Vine (see www.tableandvine.com), an eclectic emporium that stocks over 5,000 varieties of wine, in addition to spirits, cheese, caviar, pâtes, prime meats and game, an extensive gourmet grocery department, and thousands of other delectable goodies. Table and Vine is located in a large strip mall behind the Big Y in Northampton, Massachusetts. As we scouted the lot for an empty parking space, I couldn’t help but notice that the supermarket storefront was awash in a massive display of potted chrysanthemums. Radiant blooms in vivid shades of amber, scarlet, burgundy, saffron, gold, and amethyst enticed shoppers in the busy plaza, replete with stores and shops touting “back-to-school” sales and bargains. Although the array was stunning, the sight of the brilliant beauties was portentous — in that single moment I first realized that the remaining days of summer were numbered.
After buying a few of our favorite wines and spirits, cheese, a few crusty baguettes, and a sampling of dark, French chocolate, we headed further north toward the rolling Green Mountains of Vermont. Ignoring guilty pangs for not having bought a single item for my youngest son’s return to school, I reveled in the beauty of nature and the excitement of being away from home. The panoramic vistas, amidst the magnificent backdrops of tree-lined peaks and the bucolic valleys dotted with farms and geometric fields were breathtaking as was the occasional sweet scent of new-mown hay. The worries, anxiety, and mundane tasks of everyday living disappeared with each mile traveled away from home.
Our getaway revolved around the retrieval of our son at camp the following day. Our mission was to find a place to stay near Strafford, Vermont, where the camp is located. While exploring the environs, we happened upon Lake Fairlee, and found an ideal spot on a grassy bank near the water to spread a picnic lunch. Sitting there munching on brie and Stilton cheeses with chunks of crusty bread washed down with sips of chilled white wine, I noticed the first blush of crimson and gold on some of the trees that surrounded the lake. I instinctively slipped off my sandals to feel the sun-kissed blades of soft grass between my toes. The signs were obvious — chrysanthemums in bloom, the end of camp, leaves beginning their annual change — summer days were on the wane.
After a little hiking, shopping, and a fried-clam dinner, we settled into our beds at an inn on the banks of the Sugar River, near Claremont, New Hampshire. We only had to drive about an hour the next morning to collect our son and his gear, who was anxiously awaiting our arrival. While listening to tales of camp activities and hijinks, we said our goodbyes to counselors and friends and set out to continue our vacation. Too early to drive directly to our next destination, the rest of the morning was spent hiking in the woods and gathering wild berries that were ripe for the picking. It was warm and pleasant as we walked through the forest marveling at stone walls that marked the property lines of early settlers. Thoughts of fall and the impending start of school were far from our minds. It felt good to be at a place that was quiet and serene — the only sound was the occasional rustling of branches and the occasional acorn dropping to the ground.
A reserved site was waiting for us at Limehurst Lake Campground in Williamstown, Vermont, so after lunch we checked in at the office/store and pitched our tents. As luck would have it, a light rain began to fall shortly after we arrived, but undaunted, we rented a canoe after setting up camp. Our 11-year old was anxious to demonstrate his newly-learned boating skills, and we were the only ones who dared to brave the lake that afternoon. Sprinkles turned into larger and larger drops as we explored the beauty of the lake and observed a pair of graceful loons as they flitted about the shoreline. We paddled for about an hour or so before giving in to the cold, damp rain that had intensified to a full-fledged downpour. I walked at a fast pace down the path back to our site, sandaled feet now muddy, wet, and cold. I could hardly wait to dry them off and slip into warm socks and waterproof hiking boots. A few days earlier, when it was 98 degrees in the shade, a downpour would have been refreshing. Labor Day was two weeks away, much too early to be so chilled — much too early for cold feet.
It rained all night and most of the next day, but true to the reputation of New England climate, the temperature rose rapidly as the skies cleared. It felt like summer again as we explored the White Mountains, did some sightseeing in Portsmouth, and idled away our last day on the New Hampshire coast. A long, barefooted walk on Hampton Beach with the waves lapping at my feet provided a perfect respite before getting on the highway for the long drive ahead. Traffic was heavy and snarled and on the Mass Pike it slowed to a crawl. The Hanging Hills and Castle Craig were a welcome sight when we finally reached Meriden, exhausted from the journey.
As I write this, a month has passed since I’ve returned home. Quiet moments of peace and meditation in the mountains and by the sea are fading memories. The “back-to-school” rush is winding down, Labor Day has come and gone, and the kids are immersed in their school routines. The autumnal equinox has occurred so the season has officially changed and summer has
passed. Ground cover and brush are turning yellow and brown, while the evergreens stand in sharp contrast to the hardwood trees’ changing colors. Warm days and cool nights create misty, damp mornings as the mild air of the new day meets with dew-drenched surfaces.
Long Sunday rides on the back roads of Connecticut often include a stop at an orchard for a gallon of fresh, cold cider and a bagful of crisp, juicy native apples, some of which are to be eaten as the ride continues. Fall smells like apples and cinnamon. Homemade applesauce, laced with cinnamon sticks, brown sugar, and a splash of cognac or brandy simmering on the stove provide a natural pot pourri that permeates throughout the house. With the heat of summer long gone, the oven’s warmth is welcome as apple pies and crisps bake to a golden brown. Autumn is resplendent with color, spice, and the delicious bounty of New England harvests. It is my favorite season.
Toting seasoned logs to fill the wood stove on a recent chilly morning, I lit the kindling thinking about the first frost and the frigid weather soon to come. By the time the Harvest Moon appears in the heavens, my sandals will be stowed away in a plastic shoe box destined to become next year’s “around-the-house-and yard” footwear. As I grow older, I dread the winter more and more. Even when I was younger, it was my least favorite season; my hands and feet have been sensitive to cold for as long as I can remember. After Christmas and the first few snowfalls, I endure winter grudgingly until the first brave crocus appears bringing hope of warmth and the renewal of verdant life.
September is the last hurrah for bare legs and exposed toes. The freedom of unrestrained feet will soon pass as wool socks and boots become requisite for warmth. During January, February, and most of March one pair of “woolies” is not enough for me, so I stuff my bulky, wool-swathed toes into fleece-lined boots each time I venture outside. Trudging clumsily along, feeling like “Big Foot” for most of winter makes the time available for sandal wear all the more precious. I, for one, do not relish the thought of awakening on frosty January mornings when the temperatures are below freezing and the wind chill factor causes Connecticut to feel like the arctic.
I’ve accepted the passing of summer and greeted fall with open arms and bare toes. Autumn is a time of transition in these parts, a time to appreciate nature in its most glorious grandeur. It is also a time to prepare for winter and adjust to the imminent changes in weather. There’s still time to bask in the sun, walk barefoot on the beach, and have one last dance under the Harvest Moon. It is the promise of change and the beauty of the process that prompts life to seek life. New Englanders understand this innately, and it is one of the reasons why we stay.



Bobbies Bevy of Beauties

It’s that time of the year again. The yards with their very beautiful flowers are showing their signs of time. Most of the perennials are gone. The annuals pretty much in full bloom. All we need is one bad frost and all will be no more.
I have two perennials which haven’t flowered yet, the Montauk daisy and chrysanthemum. Usually by now I’m picking them and adding them to the many bouquets of autumn joy-sedum and dahlias, which I give away. Faithfully every year the yellow evening primrose ceases to bloom by the second week of September. I have them in three different beds. The plants are large, green and very healthy looking. But I guess that’s the time they close up shop until next spring. The cleome and balsam are so large I won’t be able to pull them out of the ground. Will probably have to use a shovel like I usually do. They will re-seed and come back a plenty next year. Then there’s the white trumpet lily. In three months a one inch plant, which now looks like a giant flowering bush. The flowers look like Easter lilies and bloom only one day. But the plant has so many buds that there’s always a blossom or two or three or more on them. Each dead bloom produces a prickly seed pod. When it turns brown, usually in the fall, it splits open and releases hundreds of seeds. You could cover your whole yard next year from these seeds. The main stem is so big, almost the size of a small tree trunk. When they get this size I wish I owned a steam shovel. They are a son of a gun to get out of the ground.
Peony bushes. Cut down in September and transplant them only in this month, too. Forgot to trim mine. When the rain has ended will have to get outside and take care of this gardening chore.
That’s it for now. Until the next issue.
Flowercerely yours,
Bobbie G Vosgien


The Gift Of The Magi
By O’Henry
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pierglass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie.""Will you buy my hair?" asked Della."I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."Down rippled the brown cascade."Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand."Give it to me quick," said Della.Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically."If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.Della wriggled off the table and went for him."Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you.""You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor."Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"Jim looked about the room curiously."You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy."You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table."Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit."Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled."Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.


The Artist Trading Card Phenomenon Has Taken Hold In Wallingford - And Is Looking To Grow!
by Barbara Sherburne
(barndt49@yahoo.com)
I met with Carol Hawes and Helen Hoelck at Carol’s home, and was greeted by two lively and cute as buttons Boston Terriers, Simpson and Dahlila, who helped herd me upstairs to Carol’s studio where I was introduced to something I had never heard of, Artist Trading Cards. Although this concept is new to me, the ATCs, as they are known, have been around for about 10 years. I’ll give you a little history about them in a moment.
Many of you may be familiar with Carol and Helen as well-known artists in the community. Carol was the proprietor of The Workshop in the late ‘90s on Center Street, and became so inundated with painting projects, she had to give up the store. Helen and Carol have collaborated for years, and you may also recognize their names from Helencarol Dolls. Their work has been showcased at Gallery 53 in Meriden, to name one locale, and they attend and exhibit their art at many doll shows throughout Connecticut.
But let me get back to Artist Trading Cards.
Back in 1996 an artist in Zurich, Switzerland, by the name of m. vänçi stirnemann, decided to produce a catalog of his work to document his artwork for other artists. He soon discovered that the cost of printing a catalog in a hockey-card format would be extremely expensive. So in 1996 he produced by hand 1,200 cards, which led to the first exhibition at his bookstore in Zurich (A Collaborative Cultural Performance) of Artist Trading Cards in April of 1997. People who attended were encouraged to make their own cards to trade with vänçi or others at the closing reception, which they did. And that’s how it all began.
One attendee of that first exhibition was Don Mabie (also known as Chuck Stake), a Canadian, and he was so taken with the idea that he brought it to Calgary, Canada. On September 27, 1997, the first trading session took place in Canada, and the new art form caught on immediately. Regular trading sessions now take place throughout Canada, in the United States, Australia, Switzerland, Holland, and other countries as well.
So what are these cards exactly? They are miniature works of art created on card stock that is 2-1/2” by 3-1/2” (64mm x 89mm), the traditional size of trading cards. Instead of buying cards, though, you make them. The materials artists use vary immensely, and some are two-dimensional, and others are three-dimensional. They might be drawn in pencil, pen, marker, chalk, crayon, or painted. Some people use a collage technique, and others use stained glass, melted wax, fabric, photographs, and even crushed tin cans. Anything goes. The only requirements are that they must be 2-1/2” by 3-1/2” and thin enough to fit into a standard trading card sleeve.
In Carol’s studio, besides an old Singer sewing machine and what looked to be hundreds of tubes of paint, were miniature clotheslines with miniature clothespins which displayed several dozen ATCs. Helen and Carol also have a number of scrapbooks (binders) filled with trading cards from artists all over the country. The purpose of trading the cards has nothing to do with money. Quite the contrary. “The purpose is making and receiving original art in miniature art form and meeting people,” according to Helen, “and to encourage creativity.” A trading session, or TS, is simply when two or more people meet in person to trade cards face to face, and that is at the heart of the ATC concept. To quote Don Mabie, “It’s the one-to-one interaction while trading, looking through someone’s binder and deciding which cards you would like to trade with them on that day. And as a definite bonus, you end up with an extensive collection of superb miniature works of art.”
The reason why Carol and Helen asked me to write this story is because they would like to form a group in Wallingford devoted to hand-painted cards. As hostesses, they would sponsor the swap sessions, possibly held once a month, and they suggested that it would be fun to meet at a local restaurant, for example. There are endless possibilities for themes for the swaps, such as Man’s Best Friend, Favorite Recipes, Dolls, Books, Doorways, Flowers, Churches, Architecture, Landscapes, and anything else you can think of. They have been actively pursuing ATCs for a year now, and would really like to see a group form right here in town.
If this sounds like something you would like to be involved with, please contact Carol or Helen at their addresses below. Oh, and did I mention how beautiful the cards are? There is a Chinese proverb: “A picture’s meaning can express ten thousand words.” That being said, I am hoping Andy will print a few of their exquisite Artist Trading Cards here. If you want to see more, I bet you know what to do.

Carol Hawes: buggyart@sbcglobal.net
Helen Hoelck: www.picturetrail.com/hh129


REDISCOVERING THE SPLENDORS OF SWITZERLAND
By Phyllis S. Donovan
When our longtime friends from Switzerland, Paddy and Kurt Holzer, couldn't make it to our 50th anniversary celebration last fall, they invited us to visit them at their home in Kandersteg, a Heidi village in the Bernese Oberland of Switzerland.
"Come in early June when the orchids are blooming up on our mountains," my dear friend tempted me. She knew how much I loved checking out the Alpine flowers last time we visited them.
Orchids growing in the Swiss wilds? This I had to see! Even though I suspected they might be what we called Lady's-slippers when we were kids (because I know those protected beauties belong to the orchid family.) I still longed for a first-hand look.
And so, we flew into Zurich and spent the first part of June in the Swiss Alps (with a side trip down into northern Italy to see the village where my grandfather grew up. But that's another story.)
Barely had we arrived at their comfortably modernized home, which Kurt has totally renovated inside (although the outside, in this historically protected village, retains its charming Swiss chalet style), when Paddy hustled us up the Gastern Valley to see the flowers. Later in our visit we would take the nearby Sunnbuel gondola ride up to Gemmi Pass affording spectacular views of those mountains and valleys, but this time we drove up the winding one-way road along the Kander River to get to Paddy's "secret" orchid patch near a waterfall whose runoff mysteriously disappeared under the porous ground.
Sure enough, the orchids, which were just starting to bloom, were Lady's-slippers, but not the pink variety we remember from childhood. These were a maroon and gold combination, growing in clusters in cool sparse woods. Interspersed among the orchids were bright blue flowers she called "entian" but I grew up knowing as gentians, another increasingly scarce species in our woods. Also clinging to bushes and low-lying tree branches were lush tangles of purple clematis. Flowerwise, we hit the jackpot that day.
Another day, they took us to visit the Grottoes of Vallorbe near the French border. We walked up along a pleasant shady road along the plummeting Orbe River to arrive at the entrance to the extensive karst caves. We got there just in time to see SCUBA divers donning gear to explore the subterranean reaches of the river, which carved out this wonderland of golden caverns. Amazingly, these caves were discovered only in 1962 and opened to the public in 1974.
Once inside, we trudged along the paths and climbed down and up steep stairways through the enormous labyrinth of soaring stalagmites and stalactites with special formations spotlighted by lights we could turn on as we went along. We were struck by the immensity and variety of the gorgeous effects hewn by the river and built up one water drip at a time in that hidden darkness. From enormous organ pipe groupings to graceful drapery effects down to tiny "new" stalactites the size of sipping straws, the caves were awe-inspiring.
On another day, we drove over to Gstaad, which in summer is just a pretty upscale tourist town sleepily catching its breath before the ski season, a state we discovered the same in Davos and St. Moritz, which we visited later during our visit.
On the way "home" from Gstaad, however, we encountered heavy snow crossing one of the lesser passes in this mountainous land.
The snow wasn't only in the mountains. When we awoke the next day, the old apple tree whose blossom-laden branches outside our upstairs bedroom skylight had been buzzing with bees the day before, were covered with three inches of snow.
The snow, which didn't last too long in the village, did cover the mountaintops for the rest of our stay, affording classic Alps scenery for our digitized photos.
Since no vacation would be complete without a train ride (we had, on an earlier Swiss trip, taken the famous Glacier Express from Zermatt to St. Moritz), my husband was eager to ride the exciting Bernina Express from Chur south to Tirano, Italy. Reservations were required for the eight-hour round-trip ride on the handsome red train with its soaring panoramic windows. Leaving at 8:30 a.m. on a bright chilly day, we proceeded through picturesque pastoral stretches where fat dun-colored cattle and black goats grazed contentedly, the bells around their necks ringing distinctly in the clear air.
After awhile we started to climb up grades as high as 7 percent, amazingly, with no cogwheels. The train gained altitude by climbing up through an ingenious series of circular tunnels and switchbacks from which we could view the same village in the valley growing smaller and smaller below us.
Before long we were 7,380 feet high in the bleak forbidding snowfields of the Bernina Pass with mountains and glaciers towering above us. Eventually we proceeded down again, gaining remarkable views as we descended into the picturesque mountain town of Poschiavo and on to Tirano where we enjoyed a heaping plate of spaghetti carbonara to die for.
On the early leg of our journey, we were in the first car behind the electric locomotive but on the return trip we were in the last car, which afforded us wonderful photo ops of the entire little red train winding ahead of us. Picture-perfect views abounded as we swept back over gracefully arched viaducts, labored through the snowy high pass, down past tumbling waterfalls and along meadows and woods on our journey back to Chur.
It wasn't on just this train ride that we came to truly admire the phenomenal engineering skills of the Swiss. During our travels by car, we drove along dozens of switchback roads over precipitous passes, traversed many graceful bridges over high gorges and hundreds of tunnels through the mountains. In fact, right now, they are constructing the huge 21.5 mile Loetschberg Basis Tunnel through the mountain near Kandersteg which, when completed, will, along with the 35.3-mile long Gotthard Basis Tunnel, transport by rail all the huge tractor trailer trucks from all over Europe that presently have to struggle over Switzerland's steep passes.
On one occasion, leaving a mountain village on a gorgeous summer day, we drove up one of those steep switchback roads and into a dense mountain-hugging cloud that clung so low to the pass that we couldn't see more than two car lengths ahead of us. Luckily, traffic was sparse but still we cautiously crept ahead at 10 miles an hour or so. (There were no roadside barriers, and who knows how far we'd drop if we went over the edge of the road.) Suddenly, we glimpsed through the murk what looked like a solid wall across the narrow road in front of us. My husband stopped the car dead in the road and out of the fog appeared a large herd of cows, bells ringing, with a young farmer leading them with a small orange flag. With us stopped in their path, the cows streamed by both sides of our VW Passat in what looked like an orderly walking stampede, mooing as they came. My husband whipped out his video camera and caught the whole experience, but in his haste he had left the lens cap on. (At least he captured the loud bells and moos of the passing throng.)
We had known that the Swiss farmers moved their cows up into the mountains for the summer, taking them up in June and bringing them back down in the fall bedecked with floral crowns and huge ceremonials bells. (We've actually seen the end of summer procession as the cows come home to the villages). But we didn't expect to almost run into a herd high on a main road in a fog. We won't soon forget our "wall of cows" encounter.
One evening, for a special treat, our hosts took us for a full moon dinner at the five-star Hotel Niesen Kulm restaurant (modernized in 2001) on the top of nearby Mt. Niesen. To get there, we had to take a half hour long funicular railway ride, changing cars mid-way, straight up the side of the mountain. At a gradient of 68 degrees, the climb was remarkable. And incredibly, the system was conceived in 1906, took four years to build and was completed in 1911.
We went up the mountain early so we could leisurely check out the breathtaking 360 degree views of the surrounding mountains and valleys. Kurt pointed out camouflaged air vents on the mountain top and explained that this is one of many Swiss mountains under which their army has built huge honeycombed underground complexes as part of the country's extensive defense system.
A small tourist plane from a tiny airport in the valley made several trip over the mountain that evening, affording its passengers fleeting views of the scenery we could enjoy at our leisure
As dusk arrived and lights came on, we went inside to partake of a fancy five-course meal, which included pates, cold melon soup, sorbet, a full steak dinner and strawberry crepe. But no full moon! In June, we discovered, the full moon in the Swiss Alps is at its shortest cycle. My husband checked it out and it didn't rise 'til after 3 a.m.
One day, we drove over to Lake Geneva and toured the much photographed Chateau de Chillon, the famous fortress-like medieval castle built by the Savoys. The tour started in the dungeons where Bonivard, a political prisoner made famous in Lord Byron's poem "The Prisoner of Chillon," was kept chained for four years before being released by the conquering Swiss Bernese. From there we moved on upward through the spacious living quarters that remain much the same as when they were built in the 13th century with their massive fireplaces and spacious window seats affording grand views of the lake, all the way up to the towers and catwalks where sentries once prowled.
On our last day in Switzerland, we drove over the Brunig Pass to Luzern to visit its most famous sites. We parked at the Bahnhof (railroad station), and walked to the nearby the rambling Chapel Bridge, a long wooden structure graced by overhead paintings of Bible scenes, which crosses the Ruess River before flowing into Lake Luzern. Hundreds of swans graced the waters around the bridge seeking handouts from tourists. A 1993 fire, sparked by a stricken boat, damaged a part of the bridge which has since been repaired, sans paintings, and a huge octagonal Water Tower, now a gift shop, stands midway across the span.
Close by along the river walk is the Jesuit Church, Built in the late 1600s, the church is modestly plain and unimpressive from the outside standing but the soaring Baroque interior is wonderfully light and bright and boasts beautifully rendered decorations. In short, the church is a beautiful small gem of a place.
We'd seen photos of Luzern's wonderfully touching Lion Monument but hadn't expected to find it tucked in a small shady park near the center of town. The huge, 33' x 20' sculpture is carved into the side of a limestone cliff and depicts a dying lion, a broken spear protruding from its side and tears streaming from its hung head. The monument represents the 300 Swiss mercenaries killed during the French Revolution with the dedication "To the loyalty and bravery of the Swiss." It was a fitting and poignant end to our Swiss wanderings.