A Smalltown 80’s Holiday Story.
The history of small-town America is rich in stories, and my hometown of Thompson, Connecticut, is no different. Thompson was founded in 1785 and is nestled in the northeastern part of the state. Today, this “Quiet Corner” of the world is home to 9,000 residents, with one main school for the town: Mary R. Fisher Elementary School.
But back in 1985, a secret plan was brewing. Mary Fisher was still the Principal of the elementary school, and I was one of her awkward nine-year-old students.
One morning in the dead of winter and just before Christmas, the Principal approached me and slid a note in my pocket. She whispered, give this to your grandmother. I said, “ok.”
I didn’t open the note. But that afternoon after school, the bus dropped me off at my grandmother Virginia Pepin’s house in Fabyan. Virginia was one of the local Postmasters in the area and, in fact, she rented the front of her house out to the U.S. Postal Service to house the Fabyan Post Office, and she lived in the back portion of the house, where she raised my mom, Barbara Pepin-Neff who also worked with my mom at the Post Office.
When I got to the House/Post Office, I gave my Grandma Pepin the note from Principal Mary Fisher. She looked intently and shouted, “Barb, I have a trip for you.”
You see, this was a bit of a conspiracy of small-town caring. Mary had been identifying students in the elementary school who appeared to be not eating enough and whose living conditions were also hard. So she would write out their name and address and give it to me. Then, I would give the name and address to my grandmother, who intentionally ran the Salvation Army for the community. From her perspective, “people will come to get their mail here, so they might as well pick up some cheese and milk.”
From there, it was my mom’s job to drive out to the woods or wherever the student and their family lived and provided support. Sometimes, this meant a bag of clothes from the Salvation Army or cooked turkeys for the holidays. But on this day, for this kid, the needs were more urgent. Apparently, the heat in the wooden shack they were living in, in the woods, was not good this winter, and it was a very cold winter.
So, my mom put her three kids in snowsuits, and we drove through the dark to find the family. We pulled into the woods and got out of a large barn. There was no sign of life, so we all walked around it shouting, “It was safe.” “We just wanted to help.” The barn was abandoned, so Mom put the three kids back in the car and drove further into the woods until we saw a slightly smaller shack, but with a touch of smoke rising out of an aluminium chimney.
When we pulled up the shack, my mother got a bit nervous. She asked all of the kids to get out of the car. It was just the four of us. As we all walked toward the shack, we gave the same shout: “We’re here to help.”
At that point, a man in his 30s emerged from the house with a shotgun. He pointed it at my mom and asked her why she was there. She said, “I work with the Salvation Army, and we want to take you and your kids in from the cold.” Importantly, my mom added, “Please put down the gun; I brought my children.”
A bit embarrassed, the man lowered and put the shotgun away. My mom went into the house and talked with him while her deterrent children waited in the snow and dark of the woods for her to negotiate the next steps with the gentleman.
When they emerged, he brought his daughter, and we all went in our car back to the Post Office. Grandma Pepin, the Postmaster, Salvation Army leader, and co-conspirator with Principal Mary Fisher, was waiting. She had picked out clothes for the man’s daughter, wrapped some presents, and arranged for them to spend Christmas at a hotel that night while she looked into his heating situation.
Mary, Virginia, and Barbara did what small-town women do all the time — lead the community and provide front-line support to those in need. They did more than care about the people in their community; they acted to make sure the lives of those around them were better. I don’t know if small towns do this better than big cities, but I know these Thompson women were strong and determined.
Thanksgiving had a ritual similar to it at the Post Office. We would show up early in the morning where Virginia and my mom had been cooking turkeys overnight, and the kids would load the turkeys in the car and drive around town to the homes of elderly residents who did not have family to support them. I carried those classic aluminium trays with giant turkeys on them, steaming in the cold November air, to about seven different houses across North Grosvenordale.
The lesson that I learned from these Holiday seasons was about service and gratitude. I was lucky. I had my mom and grandmother, who were there for me every day. Not everyone’s family was the same. And that’s where the service comes in, to your local community, particularly those in need. I’m grateful to have known Mary Fisher, Virginia Pepin, and Barbara Pepin-Neff, and that’s what I’m thankful for this Holiday Season.
Dr. Chris Pepin-Neff lived in Thompson until he went to college. He is the author of two books and works as a university academic in Sydney, Australia.
