Student Culture in the Amherst Area

By Doug Capozzoli, Annette Gildstein, Kerry McDonough, Lauren O’Brien, and Shoki Yashiro.

A strange thing happens to this town at night: Police officers accompany buses, ambulances race up and down the streets, and for hours the sidewalks become consumed with stumbling students. Mass crowds float from place to place: laughing, yelling, careless; bumping into one another, merging with each other, wandering from bar to bar. A line stretches up the road. In it, young women, yelling at young men, young men yelling at one another, young women crying, and young men fighting. Their voices ring through the alleyways in between the small shops that line the streets, sweep over the parking lots, and reside at the door of my work, everyone there with a common enemy: I represent authority. I am the staunch reminder that people are responsible for their actions; I am the relic of society. As the bouncer, I am the enemy.

I see the same people throughout the day that I see at night: The familiar faces of people in my classes, people who frequent the same places as me, the people who serve my food, my peers, my neighbors. Day in and day out, I see these faces, and night after night I see these faces change. The boy that I sit next to in history is now fighting the boy that I sit next to in math, the shy girl who serves me my coffee in the morning is now vomiting in the alley. The “excuse me’s” and “I’m sorry’s” of the day slowly become “You suck” and “Fuck you” as the sun sets.

I watch people drink as much as they can, as fast as they can. I watch kids stumble about the dark bar room floor with a glass in each hand, and kids sit on a stool, shooting liquor until they vomit on the bar. At any point walking into the bathroom could reveal anything from young men snorting drugs off of the sinks, to a couple having sex in the stalls. I watch these kids behave like animals. I watch them suspend their sense of responsibility and shame as if the world was going to end the next day.

Stackers Pub sits neatly in the middle of a strip of bars in the center of Amherst, MA. It lies directly between Amherst college, and the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Though, these sights have nothing to do with the placement of where I work. These scenes are not unique to me. They are things that anyone in my line of work would see every night. Its easy to note that the root of these problems seems to be drugs and alcohol, though, this wouldn’t truly hit the heart of the problem, it runs deeper than that. It’s this notion that we are not responsible for our actions, it’s the idea that acting like animals is expected from college students, so it should be accepted by others. This suspension of shame is at the heart. This thought that expectance is the same as acceptance. But then again this is not everybody. In all reality, take a group of 25,000 people from anywhere and your bound to get at least a handful of jerks that will ruin it for everybody else.

UMass Amherst tends to act as the scapegoat for all of the misdeeds of the town’s nightlife. Kids from Smith, Amherst, Holyoke, and Hampshire all come to my work. The majority come from UMass, but this does not mean that they cause the majority of the problems, or at least a disproportional amount of the problems. Whenever there’s a fight, a shouting match, or someone who’s had too much to drink, the finger is pointed at “Zoo-Mass” simply because of the school’s reputation.

This quick judge of character of UMass might very well be outdated. As my boss put it, the current student body of the university is the tamest that it has been in years. A hard notion to believe, but he went on to explain that “It’s all of the photos, and videos, and social networking. It’s not like this stuff went on less back in the day, it was actually much worse, people just saw it less. Now, everybody has a camera right in their pockets and are more than willing to let anyone who cares to listen know what they’re up to at any given time.” Many misdeeds are now caught on tape and held up as a representation of the university.

Traces of wild behavior from the past can still be found in the valley though. Events like Alumni weekend can bring back the excited personalities and reckless mentalities of previous years. As a bouncer, working on an alumni weekend one might assume that the night would be much calmer, but this is far from the case. It may be because these individuals are attempting to relive their glory days, or it might just support the thought that these past students are truly party animals at heart, but some of the most reckless and violent nights have come from this older generation.

Though this is not to excuse the current students. While they may not be the majority, there is certainly many individuals who feed into the “Zoo- mass life style. I frequently witness it, and unfortunately, so does the rest of the town. Generally the students who behave like this are the worst the university has to offer, and sadly the loudest representation of it.

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While the reputed “party scene” in Amherst is immediately affiliated with the town and the flagship University, there is a lack of research to support this association. This paper will explore the history of the purported party culture at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst and the Amherst town, the perspectives of longtime residents, the effects of such a culture, how the local community and social media handle the issue and the University’s response. This compilation of research will ideally leave the reader educated on the issues and prepared to formulate their own conclusions.

The party scene in Amherst hasn’t always been consistent. Based on an interview with longtime resident of Amherst, Amity Lee-Bradley, whose home is only five minutes away from the center of town, the amount of incidents involving belligerent students has reduced over the years. Amity states, “Town has cracked down on parties, I see fewer of them than I used to. I assume either landlords threaten their tenants if they get written up, and/or police use threat of alcohol violations and noise violations to limit the scope of the parties. In my area, kids are most anxious not to offend. Much more than they used to be.” The only bad months, Amity mentions, are September and May, stating that students tend to have less studying at the beginning of the school year which equates with more time to party. With May being the time of graduation, it’s celebratory. Knowing this, it’s possible that the town’s police force is more lax at these times of the year, knowing that the intensive partying will dwindle out over time.

The threat of alcohol and noise violations isn’t just limited to the town of Amherst as the UMass Amherst campus has updated their code of conduct to include more severe reactions to such issues. It’s possible that the two have a sort of symbiotic relationship. Students move off campus in order to avoid the harsher code of conduct, and the Amherst police take care of the incidents in town.

The way it seems based on this interview with Amity is that before the school worked diligently on changing their party school image, the incidents were a lot worse. Amity recalled ten years ago a party near Puffton Village where she used to hold residence. Amity stated, “Mind you, there was a time when I lived in Puffton, and I was there when they lit a tree on fire and had the riot squad called — I came back from a weekend away Sunday morning to find it looking like a war zone near Hobart Lane, and friends from other parts of the country heard about the party that got out of control (not sure when this was, 10+ years ago I think). Hobart Lane usually has one out of control party a year, in the Spring. I think they’ll get 500-1000 kids.” Looking through news websites now, the majority of recent stories involving Puffton Village include individuals rather than large parties (two men loitering, one man breaking into cars, etc).

It isn’t difficult for illicit, rowdy activities to spill over to the surrounding area of Amherst, while the student body is about 22,000 strong. The campus itself of academic buildings, student housing, and recreational areas, spreads through 1,450 acres of land. When visiting the campus by day one might be deceived by its serene rural setting of grassy hills and trees. At night however, students transform and act in animal like behavior. This of course isn’t true for everyone attending the school, a majority of the party scene is actually known to be curated in the South West residential area. Comprised of five twenty-two story towers, twelve low rise dormitories, and two dining commons. Hugh Stubbins was the artful mastermind behind this tasteful architecture design (and also Frank DC). It essentially is like a mini-village, accommodating about 6,000 students. Since the area is more industrial than the rest of campus, Stubbins tried to incorporate the beautiful natural scenery with lots of open space and added plant sections to ease the roughness of all the concrete. That is also why there are wooden sitting areas wrapping throughout South West in order to refrain from being overpowered by bricks. Unfortunately though, not much has been renovated in these buildings since the 60’s and especially compared to the other, more rural side of campus. This I’d assume is most likely due to the fact that kids here are just known to be reckless.

South West residential area also happens to be parallel to the streets of locals that are simply living here with their families. Since many students also happen to live in off-campus apartments/houses near by, people pour out from SW onto the streets of Amherst. This migration period is only the beginning of the loud, obnoxious, yelling and cheering of peoples nights. Binge drinking is also another problem the school tries to address. When a person drinks about five drinks within an hour of leaving and then even more at the party, their liver doesn’t have nearly enough time to process all of that alcohol. Nights like this are what often involve the police and ambulances because of how reckless people can get.

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A new phenomenon has recently emerged in the Amherst area, as well as the entire nation– a phenomenon which has young people half-naked, drugged out and groping each other shamelessly in public. At the Mullins center, where only three years ago hip-hop stars and aging rock stars had almost undisputed venue space, now we see the arrival of names like “BassNectar,” “Tiesto,” and “DeadMau5”– the rave culture has (finally) arrived in America.

The “rave” scene started in Ibiza, Spain in the late 1980s, spawning from the active party atmosphere of the Mediterranean island, often frequented by German, Italian and British youth on vacation (Hunt 607). In the early 90s, with the advent of “house” music into the realm of pop culture, the rave scene became more and more popular, most prominently in Europe. However, at the same time much stigma was raised as to the effect this subculture was having on youths— most specifically, the recreational drug use that is commonly associated with the rave culture. These drugs include, but are not limited to, ecstasy, “molly”, ketamine, LSD, Rohypnol and GHB (Scott 6). Because of a widespread fear of this nocturnal, drug-filled subculture, the rave scene was effectively stifled by everything from mandatory age limits to anonymous drug testing and outright banishment in certain jurisdictions (Scott 21-7).

While the rave scene flourished and was the subject of much contention in the European nations, it never quite took off in America—at least, not until recently. College campuses across the nation are finding themselves prime location for concerts of high-profile rave DJs like DeadMau5, Tiesto, BassNectar, and Skrillex, to name a few. At these college raves, like their European counterparts, the use of drugs is abundant and unabashed. However, unlike the European ravers, this new generation of American ravers has little connection to the cultural and ideological scene perpetuated by its original creators.

The rave scene of Europe and the 90s was very centered around the concept of PLUR: peace, love, unity and respect. Sociologist Tammy Anderson studied the early rave scene in her essay, “Understanding the Alteration and Decline of a Music Scene: Observations from Rave Culture”:

The first component of a rave is its ethos or beliefs and attitudes that give raves their unique culture and group or collective identity. Raves had a distinct ethos called “PLUR”; an acronym for peace, love, unity, and respect. Generation X ravers viewed this ethos as a closer approximation of a society in which they desired to live. Second, raves were organized in grass-roots fashion. Website postings, mobile phone messaging and secret flyers informed people about parties and protected raves from police interference. (Anderson 310)

According to Anderson, the Generation X rave scene had an ideological basis—one which emphasized, not unlike the hippies of the 60s, the ideals of peace, love, unity and respect. There was also a certain tone of secrecy and exclusivity, as these original raves were held in discreet locations. Anderson: “Typically, raves were held at unlicensed venues, like old warehouses, fields, or abandoned buildings” (310). In fact, the whole idea of the rave culture seemed to be intended as a subculture—like the British mod scene of the 60s, and punk rock of the 70s, this scene seems to be geared toward a cult following, rather than any mass audience.

Which is why it seems so strange, to see a girl who, yesterday, was wearing Uggs and yoga pants with a North Face jacket, and is now traipsing her way, half-naked, toward a drugfilled music fest with neon glow sticks in her hands and a pink pacifier in her mouth. The rave scene has hit the mainstream, and it has been simplified, stripped of any ideological foundations, and commercialized.

However, while the new rave scene promotes recreational drug use and shameless sexual openness, its very nature prevents it from causing major problems within the community. According to the U.S. Department of Justice’s “Problem-Oriented Guides for Police Series No. 14; Rave Parties”, “The principal rave-related concerns for police are: drug overdose and associated medical hazards, drug trafficking, noise, driving under the influence, traffic control” (Scott 2). However, as the guide continues it becomes clear that these concerns are not particularly dangerous when compared with any event of similar size.

In terms of the often excessive amounts of drug use that occurs at these rave events, Scott says:

As a whole, those ravers who use rave-related drugs seem to manage their drug use, not letting it seriously disrupt other facets of their lives–work, school and personal relationships–although this is clearly not the case for all ravers. Few rave- related drug users get seriously addicted to the drugs, and few turn to crime to finance their drug use. (9)

In other words, the drugs that are often used during rave events (ecstasy, ketamine, LSD, rohypnol, GHB, etc.) typically do not develop into life-altering addiction for most ravers. In addition, “While rave-related drug deaths are, of course, tragic, and taking rave-related drugs increases the risk of death or serious illness, deaths and medical emergencies remain relatively rare” (10). However, it is also important to note that evidence shows that chronic ecstasy use may cause permanent brain damage (9).

While there have also been cases of violence, usually related to drug trafficking, at raves, Scott says that these cases are again no more frequent than they are at comparable events—in fact, they are less frequent:

The use of rave-related drugs has not been strongly linked to other crimes, as has been the case with other drugs such as cocaine and heroin. And unlike other youth events or other types of concerts, raves do not typically involve much assault. The few reports of rave-related violence are usually attributable to clashes between ravers and police when police try to shut raves down. (9)

In other words, according to the Department of Justice, most violence at raves has been due to police interference, rather than in spite of it.

Also, while many believe that raves and rave drugs lead to vulnerability to sexual assaults, “there is little published literature indicating that rave-related sexual assaults are prevalent. In fact, the evidence of rave-related drugs’ effect on sexual activity is mixed: rave culture discourages sexual aggressiveness, and while some drugs do lower sexual inhibitions, they also can inhibit sexual performance. So, in some respects, raves are safer places for young people, especially women, than conventional bars and clubs” (9).

While it appears that the rave scene is not all that harmful to communities as a whole, a major reason for the lack of confrontation at these events is the ideological foundations of rave culture—that is the ideas entailed in the PLUR philosophy. As the rave culture finds its way to UMass Amherst, it appears to have lost its ties to the ideological aspects of peace, love, unity and respect. UMass ravers are not the subculture hipsters of the 90’s European ravers—these are largely the same students who riot in the Southwest Residential district every time a Boston-based team loses a post-season game, the same kids who throw bottles from trees at crowds of drunken students every time “Hobart Hoedown” passes by. However, as the rave culture is so young in the Amherst community, it remains to be seen whether the lack of an ideological foundation will cause any trouble down the line.

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Traditionally, community issues are gossiped over and occasionally resolved during meetings and local events, from moms gossiping over the newest substitute teacher at PTA meetings to couples discussing nearby housing developments over burgers and beer. However, new technology – social media – has made it possible to connect with others on a variety of topics from the comfort of one’s own home. Instead of talking behind someone’s back or bouncing ideas off others face to face, social networking sites make it possible to stay up to date on the latest events as they are occurring and immediately respond without having to look anyone else in the eye. Amherst has been no exception to the social networking trend – in fact; it may have been hit even sooner than other communities because of local institutes of higher education replete with young tech-savvy students. Students have taken advantage of these sites to create status updates of song lyrics or latest adventures, plan parties, and post new pictures often to showcase their exciting and important lives to their hundreds of “friends.” The permanent residents of Amherst also occasionally use these sites for the same reason; however, their connection to social media provides an outlet for their opinions on the student culture in the community.

One prominent example of Amherst permanent residents responding to what many view as the party culture of local college students is Larry Kelley and his blog, “Only in the Republic of Amherst.” Kelley uses his blog to report on the latest news in the town, from local construction to his take on how Emily Dickinson would have voted in the November presidential election. However, the primary focus of the blog is on the party culture in Amherst, which Kelley follows using his police radio on evenings, driving out to scenes where police are breaking up parties and taking pictures of the homes and incidents. Kelley’s blog reflects his travels, and in his reports his own opinion is made quite clear as he lists the personal information – names, ages, and hometowns – of all arrested individuals and homeowners. Titles such as “Party House of the Long Weekend,” “Barn Blast,” and “Bye Bye Bad Boys” exhibit Kelley’s sense of humor as he takes pictures of students and homes that he posts without permission.

One of the pitfalls of social networking is the lack of human interaction and the opportunity to lash out at others, often anonymously, without ever addressing them face-to-face. A prime example of this comes from one of Kelley’s blog posts, where he wanted to bring a new comment on an old blog post that clearly vexed him forward to his readers for support:

– Take this Cowardly Anon Nitwit for instance. He made a Comment at 3:41 AM this morning on a post from 6 months ago that would normally only get a couple dozen views — mainly from folks doing a Google search for any of the numerous names that appear.

– And obviously he is friends with one or two because how else would he know that some of the kids I mention are “recent graduates” (sic).

– Anonymous has left a new comment on your post “Last Hurrah Party House Blowout”:

I am appalled that you think it is okay to post the names and addresses of these young students and recent graduates. As I read this, and the string of comments attached, I wonder if you have ever attended college? Have you ever pursued a higher education? There may be flaws with the education system, and higher education is certainly not without its share of flaws. However, it is a community in which young adults can grow and learn from their accomplishments as well mistakes. I am biased, I suppose, as I am a doctoral student studying education. What is rather amusing, however, is the fact that you are still in the town in which you were raised, posting personal information about people you do not know. Why don’t you post some of your flaws and your street address? I am sure that you have rolled through a stop sign, crossed a street without using the crosswalk, or perhaps upset a few people in your day. You harp on people who disturbed the public, and yet here you are, disturbing the public.

-Larry Kelley has left a new comment on your post “Last Hurrah Party House Blowout”: Seems to me the only ones I’m ‘disturbing’ are the a-holes who party too much.

But thanks for stopping by. Now go work on your dissertation. – Larry Kelley, 11/14/12

Instead of discussing issues in a public forum or through respectful debate, blogs offer the opportunity to stir the pot, where even this blog creator cannot refrain from name calling. The same goes for Kelley’s response to two students whose Facebook pages he linked to and who he mentioned in multiple posts, finally ending with a celebratory post:

-So it looks like UMass finally took the hint and took out rowdy ringleader Party Boys [Names have been removed in this paper]. No, not with a predator drone strike, as our military does with terrorist hierarchy in Pakistan. But whatever means they used, the less than dynamic duo no longer show up in the official UMass People Finder database. – Larry Kelley, 11/05/12

Immediately after the blog post is a screen capture image of a UMass student’s Twitter status about a discussion of Kelley’s blog in her class. Since Kelley was not tagged in any way in this status, it would appear that he conducts his work by listening to police logs, constantly checking the Facebook pages and availability of students on the UMass People Finder database, and searching for his own name for new stories on Twitter and other sites. Kelley’s public Facebook page comes equipped with links to his blog as well as pictures of homeless men sleeping in town and recommendations of his favorite cameras, for one of which he commented, “I usually get fairly close to my subjects, but I’m still looking for the right unit (want to have it for Halloween of course).” While the phrasing suggests Kelley sees the students he follows as targets for sport or units to study instead of humans or young adults, it should be noted that Kelley presents himself on facebook as a fourth generation and lifelong resident of Amherst with two young daughters (although he also lists his high school education in Los Angeles, California – a potential complication to his story). While Kelley’s social networking exemplifies the reasons many locals do not leave Amherst and are so invested in a change in the student culture, it also represents an extreme response to the behavior in the community.

Kelley’s work may be ethically or morally questionable, but his tactics are on the brink of illegal, for example his blog posting of pictures of homeowners or renters on their own property. Typically if a property owner requests that pictures are not the photographer is legally bound to comply, although in many cases it appears that Kelley takes pictures without alerting, never mind asking, the property owners. However, Massachusetts Publicity Law Section 3A notes that through the use of a “name, portrait or picture in such manner as is prohibited or unlawful, the court, in its discretion, may award the plaintiff treble the amount of damages sustained,” advising that the use of another’s identity is unlawful and that use of an identity that causes harm leaves the photographer susceptible to an injunction or an attempt at monetary damages. This opens the possibility that any of Kelley’s “subjects” who felt specifically wronged – perhaps because their names, residences, and personal information could be found on his blog and from that appear at the top of a Google search, affecting future jobs opportunities or public opinion – could attempt to sue him in court. Social media also here becomes the longest lasting and arguably strongest deterrent for party behavior of all time, allowing community members to leave messages for other and students that last beyond the four years a student is in college and into their adult careers, a name forever cemented on a blog post and on the internet accessible even when the former student is middle-aged with a family of their own.

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In the article “Amherst Needs to Protect its Neighborhoods” by Patricia Stacey, a staff writer for the Amherst Bulletin, we see a resident’s stance on the issues at hand. She states, ‘This problem is not going away unless we as a community respond to it responsibly and with definitive action. Students living off-campus in neighborhoods need supervision; they’re crying out for it.” Stacey does not say ‘students need to stop this behavior’, nor does she say that it’s all in the cops’ hands. She views the problem only improving once the community responds to it. Stacey’s plan for the community is to have them participate in town meetings and speak in favor of new zoning laws. Once these are established, she thinks, “we can keep our neighborhoods safe, we can keep our neighborhoods affordable for all, and we can fulfill our true moral obligations to the students.” This article does not paint students as villainous, rather that the circumstances which lead students to behave in such a way need to be altered. One such circumstance is the lack of on campus accommodations for students.

It can be argued that the lack of on campus housing and the rising numbers of students at UMass has a lot to do with the increasing student presence in residential Amherst neighborhoods. The campus only guarantees housing to incoming freshman, and with the number of applications to the university steadily increasing, accommodating all of the upperclassmen isn’t possible. With the addition of the Commonwealth College housing, more spots will open for students to live on the campus, leaving the campus police to enforce the campus code and keep the number of partiers down. However, this complex isn’t opening until Fall 2013 at the earliest. In an effort to remedy this situation in the meantime, the campus has been renovating buildings to meet needs by opening basement rooms, turning lounges into quads, and turning doubles into triples. This scramble for housing demonstrates that lack of rooms on campus is a problem acknowledged by the university, especially as it starts to impact the neighboring areas of Amherst.

In efforts to rekindle relationships between the campus and surrounding towns, Amherst seems to be also trying to make some adjustments on their side of the bridge. The residents are want to put more pressure and responsibility on the landlords. Since many students live in apartments or multi-family homes, the neighbors petitioned for it to be a requirement to have the landlords live in that area too. This way all complaints will be mediated through them, before police are called to the scene. When interviewed by WGGB about the issue, a UMass student, Michael Mobley-Smith said:

It’s a safer alternative than just busting in, giving out fines, arresting kids. It teaches kids how to interact better with the community. You might be able to call or tell neighbors, alert them the party’s going on. And the neighbors might be able to say, all right, if you shut it off by this time, it might be suitable for both parties involved.

That’s not the only attempts the school has made in reconciliation. The spring academic year of 2010 was slightly shortened in hopes to limit some of the partying. This of course with the assumption students will put their studying for exams prior to drinking. Its almost like freedoms in the air as students inch closer to the end of the academic year. With the sun starting to come out and Spring Break, larger outings start to pick up again. After kids came back from break, UMPD and Amherst PD made sure to be fully staffed for the remainder of the year. Amherst PD Chief Scott Livingstone made it clear that they don’t want to make the arrests as much as students don’t want to be arrested. He has found that many students who have gotten warnings about noise complaints actually maintain a low radar.

With the code of conduct at the university being updated to include harsher punishments as well as space being minimal in residence halls, the pull for students to move off campus is stronger than ever. In the interview with Amity, she mentioned this issue. Amity stated, “Amherst has always had a dichotomy between rental houses (or buildings, they’re often large) and small houses that have families. It’s more profitable to cram students in, so it’s very hard for small families (especially families with children) to live in Amherst. There has been a steady pressure for them to move further and further out.” The issue here isn’t only that families are losing housing due to the lack of on campus housing for students, but also that students are being concentrated in large areas in the center of town. Having this volume of students in one area, outside of the university’s conduct code, lends itself to disruptive behavior.

Having to deal with the same problems over and over again throughout its long history, UMass has been trying to spread awareness of these issues to students. Since it’s almost impossible to prevent every mishap from happening, the school is conscious about sending messages out about safer habits and being responsible. In all of the residents halls, many RAs have been putting up posters with alcohol, drug, and sex related facts in order to help spread the knowledge about how your actions can affect you or others around you. And even though the offcampus students are on their own and not associated with school, other than academics, when they get busted it reflects poorly on the school. So the school came up with some party tips in order to “encourage responsibility”. Some of these party tips for off-campus events include: checking IDs, keeping people indoors, eating before going out, and sticking with your friends.

The school also has tried to take another approach to show they care about the community by volunteer work. Despite the select students that project a poor image of the school, there are many student-run outreach programs to show their respect and care. The most recent was “UMass, UMake a Difference!” In hopes of gaining some more positive publicity for the University. The group of 125 students and other community volunteers, dedicated a day to contribute to complete projects mostly involving outdoor work. This helps rekindle relationships between the campus and surrounding towns. The town of Amherst seems to be also trying to make some adjustments on their side of the bridge. It seems as though the residents are trying to put a lot of responsibility on the landlords. Since many students live in apartments or multifamily homes, the neighbors petitioned for it to be a requirement to have the landlords live in that area too. This way all complaints will be mediated through them first.

The President’s Higher Education Community Service Honor Roll was first founded in 2006, for the six years this organization has been running UMass has been fortunate to receive an award. Out of the hundreds of schools that apply, only three get gain recognition. Not only does this show how much of an impact the students have made with current societal and environmental issues, it makes them a role model for other universities. With this honor under your belt, the institution is recognized by the President of the United States. This helps recruit students, gain media attention for achievement, and everything else positive in between that shines a brighter light on UMass’ title.

With such a large student body, reckless behavior is bound to happen, even with the brightest of students. It seems as though UMass over the past few years has earned its right to claim the “work hard” in “work hard, play hard”. (corny I know) The class of 2015 represents an increase of more than 200 students compared to 2010. This group also has higher academic rankings. Compared to just last year, SAT scores increased 20 points to 1187, the high school GPA average increased 3.61 to 3.62, and many students ranked top 20 percentile of their graduating class. The admissions process has become increasingly selective, with the amount of applications doubling since fall 2003. The school acceptance rate dropped from 82 percent to 75 percent in those years as well.

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While the University of Massachusetts, Amherst is continually improving in statistical terms, the fate of the school’s reputation remains unsettled to many. The most fitting conclusion to the evolution of a University with over 29,000 students involves a number of questions to allow individuals to formulate opinions. The issues to be considered then may be: Is the community opinion of a large University the final and true indicator of its reputation? Are the rights to protect community and town stronger than the right to experience college and maintain privacy? Is a party reputation acceptable for college students as long as they become successful graduates? Will the emergence of “rave culture”, as well as other party-based cultural notions, create any problems with the University’s interaction with its community?

Works Cited

Anderson, Tammy L. “Understanding the Alteration and Decline of a Music Scene: Observations from Rave Culture.” Sociological Forum. 24.2 (2009): 307-336. Web. 19 Nov. 2012. Citizen Media Law Project, Massachusetts Right of Publicity Law. http://www.citmedialaw.org/legal-guide/massachusetts-right-publicity-law .

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts General Laws, Part III, Title I, Chapter 214, Section 3A, “Unauthorized use of name, portrait or picture of a person; injunctive relief; damages; exceptions.” http://www.malegislature.gov/Laws/GeneralLaws/PartIII/TitleI/Chapter214/Section3A .

Hunt, Geoffrey, Molly Moloney, and Kristin Evans . “Epidemiology meets cultural studies: Studying and understanding youth cultures, clubs and drugs.” Addiction Research and Theory. 17.6 (2009): 601-621. Web. 19 Nov. 2012.

Kelley, Larry. “Only in The Republic of Amherst” blog. http://onlyintherepublicofamherst.blogspot.com/2011/03/site-visit-to-behold.html .

Kelley, Larry. Personal Facebook page. https://www.facebook.com/larry.kelley.9828?fref=ts .

Scott, Michael S. United States of America. U.S. Department of Justice, Office of Community Oriented Policing Services. Problem-Oriented Guides for Police Series No. 14; Rave Parties. Washington D.C.: U.S Department of Justice, 2002. Web.

Stacey, Patricia. “Amherst Needs to Protect Its Neighborhoods.” Amherst Bulletin. N.p., 7 Nov.2012. Web. 3 Dec. 2012. <http://www.amherstbulletin.com/commentary/2592392-95/studentsamherst-neighborhoods-town>.

UMass on Amherst: Students and Residents

By Julia Basal, Mia Dilluvio, Amanda Lavelle, Emily Mitchell, and Noah Robbins.

Introduction

Being students who attend UMass-Amherst, we noticed the varying disconnect between the residents and students, and we wanted to explore this further. The presence of UMass students is becoming stronger than the presence of Amherst residents due to the huge student population, and this can affect the town in both negative and positive ways. We decided to concentrate on these issues: the University expanding, the increase in students, and the increase in violation in crimes, specifically over the past four years. We also looked at how the students give back to the community through outreach, how students affect local business, and what life is like when a majority of the student population goes home for the summer through a personal account. By examining these issues we are attempting to better understand the dynamic between University students and the town of Amherst.

Now and Then: The Expansion of the University of Massachusetts

By Emily Mitchell

Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia.org

When the college that is today the University of Massachusetts, was founded in 1863 it was made up of four faculty members, four buildings, 56 students, and a curriculum that mainly focused on agriculture, sciences, and farming[1]. It was isolated and surrounded by farmlands. The population was sparse and the valley had not yet been carved into. The school became the Massachusetts State College in 1931 in order to broaden the variety of curriculum offered. In 1947 the schools name was finally changed to the name we know it as today, the University of Massachusetts at Amherst[2]. The University began with 310 rural acres and today has expanded to 1,450 acres expanding into both the town of Amherst and Hadley[3].

It’s almost impossible to imagine the University of Massachusetts campus the way it was when it first began as an agricultural college in the 1860’s. Without hoards of students going from class to class, bicycles, walkers, and skateboards congesting the pathways. The horizon would not seem the same to us without the library or the other new buildings being built before our eyes every day. While I sit in classrooms in Bartlett my gaze is often times distracted by orange clad construction workers defying gravity.

With a student body of more than 20,000 students the University shows no signs of scaling down. Each class has more applicants and more students than the year before. The campus is growing more and more. Space is disappearing and the arms of the University will have no choice to reach out, farther into the town of Amherst.

The history of the town of Amherst and the University are deeply intertwined but there was a time when the town was here and there was no college. Although Amherst and UMass are often synonymous, they two separate entities with two separate stories. The land that the town was built on was bought from three Indians in 1658[4]. It wasn’t until 1727 that the first settlement was built on it and it was given its township in 1759[5]. The town had been completely set up for over a hundred years before the land was given in order to set up the University. Other schools border the town as well, the closest being Amherst College, a prestigious school that is almost as old as the town itself and is situated in the town’s center.

The town is inundated with students. With a college degree becoming increasingly necessary to enter the work force more students are sure to enroll. With the growth of the school’s student population will come inevitably come the growth of facilities, faculties, and land. Within its lifespan UMass Amherst’s campus has grown to more than four times its original size. This continuing expansion may cause issues in the future. Although in some ways the school is beneficial to the community, the community can also be disapproving and resentful of the student population.

Cambridge, Massachusetts could be an example of what Amherst might be if the University and other surrounding schools continue to grow at the same pace. Anyone who has been to Harvard Square is probably aware of the presence of Harvard University at its heart. When I myself have visited and used the facilities of Harvard University I was surprised and annoyed at how difficult it is to simply enter the library without being trampled by crowds of tourists from all over the world. And this overcrowding is not only a problem on campus grounds. All of Cambridge seems to be congested because of the allure of Harvard.

Photo Courtesy of dazeofculture.wordpress.com

Both UMass and Harvard are older institutions (although Harvard’s reputation is slightly more world renowned). Both have large campuses in areas that are already heavy in universities and colleges. In recent years community members have lashed out at Harvard and its vague plans to expand beyond its dominion over Harvard Square and Cambridge, into other areas such as Allston[6]. Community members feel that the University is making the area overpopulated and over developed.  Harvard seems to be unconcerned with the well-being of the community and more concerned with gaining more property in the Cambridge area. When looking at a map of the city Harvard takes up a frighteningly large portion of Cambridge, bigger than other colleges such as Boston University, Boston College, and MIT.

Although UMass is not currently in this situation (the area is pretty well supplied with green space) this could cause a problem in the future. More and more students will arrive pushing the townspeople away and out of the community they have carved for themselves. One warning sign of this is the lack of housing on campus. Freshman are forced to triple up oftentimes while upper classman are given such low priority they are forced to move off campus and into areas beyond such as Amherst, Hadley, and Belchertown. If the school keeps growing at this rate soon all of the available housing in the area will be inhabited not by families and professionals but students.

When housing begins to cater towards students and not working adults, the standards and prices of housing tend to change drastically. The kind of apartment I’m willing to live in is very different than the kind of apartment or house a non-student is willing to live in. We’re all familiar with the woes of college apartments. Trash piles up, your roommate always says they’ll do the dishes when they get back, and where did that weird green stain on the living room wall even come from? Landlords both quake in fear and greedily count their money when they see college students willing to rent. Because of an apartment’s location to campus and the bus route, a landlord can basically name any price and someone is willing to pay it. This increase in rent prices and decrease in quality of living will inevitably lead to people looking elsewhere to live. Eventually solely students, professors, and scholars of the Five Colleges will populate the entire area. Every house on the market will be bought, not by new families, but by landlords looking to make a profit.

My first year off campus I was naïve and unaccustomed to renting. Our landlord was a recluse who owned a large portion of North Amherst. She did not answer her phone. She would return calls, at the earliest, two weeks after the fact. She promised to have new carpets in all of the rooms, none of which appeared. The bathtub stopped draining. The toilet stopped flushing. The roof was off limits, because it had recently caved in. There was a hornet’s nest in the attic. A family of skunks inhabited the dumpster. The list goes on. No landlord would be able to get away with these kinds of things if the location wasn’t less than a mile away from the University and there wasn’t a bus stop three steps outside the front door.

Today my living situation is very much improved but only because I live more than three miles away from campus and a ten-minute walk from the nearest bus stop.

With the surplus of students there are some benefits but there are negatives. As students have the need to spread further and further out into the valley more parties will happen, more damage to property, etc. Most of these actions the average person over twenty-two does not want to deal with. As students merge into areas that once were exclusively non-student housing there may be a backlash from the community. Only time will tell how the town and its citizens and the University and its students will handle the future encroachment.

With or Without

By Noah Robbins

After a summer of living in tranquility and summer peace, a bomb was dropped on Amherst. When it exploded, it sent shrapnel made up of about twenty thousand party-crazed college students scattered across town. The damage was catastrophic, with hustling and bustling youthful people descending upon the streets and every establishment of the expansive farm town. The peace and serenity that had enveloped the valley for the last three months had been shattered in the matter of a weekend. The school year was upon us, but where had the summer gone?

The summer began as abruptly as it ended. The rat race of the school year had become eternally time consuming, up until the very last day. Then, POOF, like that, twenty thousand lively young bodies left town, disappeared into thin air like they had never been there at all. When they leave the well-known college town of Amherst, Massachusetts becomes something completely different. It downsizes itself into a small dreamy summer town where you are most likely going to see a happy, familiar face wherever you go. There is no fear of running down hoards of scantily dressed young girls on the side of the road at night. There are no lines, no waits, no unnecessary yelling, and no parties being busted up before two A.M. There is just the select amount of brave young students who have decided to make it year round at college instead of returning to their homestead. Instead of dominating the local population like they do during the school year, the youth melt into the population, taking up jobs and becoming a productive member of the town.

After living in Northampton for my first year at UMASS, my roommates and I moved into a quaint, dirty, old house in North Amherst at the beginning of June. Complete with a porch, an open yard with a field across the street, a Market two houses over, and Puffers pond only a five-minute walk through the woods, we were set for the summer. We were indifferent to the seemingly century old house, complete with a family of moles occupying the basement, and an endless amounts of dust. Only two miles away from the big red brick city that is campus, with the lack of students, we felt we were a good thirty miles away, held up somewhere in the woods.

It being only my first full summer in Amherst I was unsure of the social opportunities to be afforded to me. Being a transfer student as a junior had limited me to a smaller group of friends than I was used to, most of which returned home for the summer. The summer started slow, with not many places to go and a seemingly endless amount of time ahead of myself. Without a set schedule of classes, and less work to be done, my social skills became lethargic and rusty without the constant expectation of social interaction. Outside of my roommates, my neighbors, my cat, my girlfriend, and my porch, I had temporarily retired my outgoing social skills. After a few weeks of familiarity I grew restless, and delved deep into the culture of a summer in Amherst, Massachusetts.

It started with my walks in the woods. Puffers Pond is better known to the average UMASS student as the little pond where people go to get trashed, and jump off rocks when the spring arrives. During the summer the Pond serves as a relaxing gathering point for the local community, where families and working students alike come to enjoy their summer days. A week or two into living in my new home I discovered that across the street and down two houses towards the train track was an outlet to the Robert Frost trails that run through the Amherst woods. I began to venture the trail daily with one person or another, always discovering some new path, or private inlet to the river that we would claim as our own beach. The paths eventually lead to the man made beach at Puffer’s pond, where our walks would often reach their pinnacle. I slowly began to recognize the families and other beach-goers that were there regularly, exchanging smiles and waves as we became familiar with each other’s faces reflecting in the warm summer sun. The families seemed to accept the limited student presence with ease, unlike the news articles and complaints that come during the school year. The beach was most often more populated by the locals than inebriated students, leaving the beach clean, quiet, and comfortable. Unlike the school year, where students mercilessly take advantage of the pond, there is an understanding between the locals and the remaining youth of respect. This understanding expands far past the pond during the summer.

My social life began to reflect my ventures in the woods. As I discovered new wooded paths, I discovered new friends, and social paths. My new neighbors soon became my roommates as a result of the conjoining door to our two-family house. With a solid base of friends we started to venture out to the bars and whatever random party one of us had heard of.

The bars, like the town as a whole, were a completely different scene during the summer. The usual crowds of muscle-bound bro’s and less than classily dressed ladies that would create untoward lines during the school year were no where to be found. Instead of the usual struggle to get the bartenders attention, their eyes would catch yours. The music still played as loud in the background but because of the lesser amount of screeching girls and hollering guys, conversation could be had at a reasonable level. As avid people watchers, my girlfriend and I found that the back porch at Stackers, was a pleasant place to sit out in the summer nights warmth. Slowly sipping on a pitcher of beer or whatever classy lady drink she chose that night, intermittently smoking, we would make conversation with the random groups of students enduring the summer as we were.  As we more regularly frequented the watering holes in the center of town the groups of faces became recognizable. The bouncers would replace checking my I.D with a hand slapping and a how-ya-doing, that would be accompanied by three or four more of those when you saw the same people you had lost your way with the night before, and the one before that.

Like the bars, the parties were also far more of a pleasant experience than they were doing the school year. Instead of having to stuff yourself into a hot, sweaty basement with crowds of people you did not know, you could mingle openly with strangers or friends, out in the warm summer night. As a result of the more open nature of parties, the ruckus, and noise were in turn toned down to a respectful level. Instead of the parties being broke up by the police force by neighbors request, they would persist late into the night with little evidence of police interruption. By allowing the parties to exist peacefully, and appropriately the police put it in the hands of the partygoers to make mature decisions, such as driving home sober. During the school year, specifically the first month of each semester, the police come out in force on weekend nights, look to keep order amongst the thousands of inebriated youth, no matter the infraction. When it comes time for the mass exodus of students, the town is allowed to take a breath, and accept the remaining youth as mature members of their community.

Despite the lack of immediate daily responsibilities I would usually awake well before my often-aching head would please. The sun would come calling through my curtains with whispers of adventure, and the urges of youthful summer freedom. To clear my head of the previous nights raucous I would stumble out onto the porch for a morning breath and then out into the street, and two doors down to my savior, Cushman’s Market.

Located at the top of Pine Street in the North Amherst community of Cushman is one of the many hidden gems of the town.  Quietly placed in a neighborhood of houses, and adjacent to the train track the market is locally owned, supplied, employed, and patronized. During the school year only a few lucky students know of its existence so it remains mostly filled with locals. Living two houses over I was one of those few and would make my way over for a nicely brewed coffee accompanied by a muffin or bacon filled sandwich every morning. I grew familiar with the baristas at the café, whom of similar age, I would also often see around town, whether at social gatherings or other businesses. Apart from my daily patronage the families living in North Amherst fuel the Market. On a summer weekend morning the café and outdoor patio would be filled with parents and their children that had deliberately made the quiet, liberal community of Cushman’s their home. Walking into the café every morning I felt welcomed by the small community, as they seemed to come from a similar perspective to my own.

I built a similar rapport with other restaurants in Amherst over the summer, but unlike Cushman’s, the school year took those away. On a lazy summer night when looking for something inexpensive, but filling I would make my way to the local burger joint, White Hut. By late July I would exchange hellos with the manager and his only question when taking my order would be what kind of shake I wanted. My friends began to lament my favoring of the greasy restaurant, claiming it would be the doom of me someday. I did not heed their advice, only choosing to notice the easy, fulfilling manner of the food. Once the school year started the mass of students had the same thought as me and I just became another hungry face to new employees.

Whenever I drove somewhere in Amherst during the summer I would make my best effort to avoid the barren campus. In fear of thinking about writing papers and taking tests I would take the long stretching back roads. In spite of my efforts I still found myself amongst the brick buildings that form the massive campus of UMASS. When I would make my way through the campus it would be surprisingly delightful to see it void of thousands of busy people. You could navigate your car down North Pleasant in the middle of campus without having to break at every single crosswalk. Walking around the campus, the summer air removed the stressful tension that fogs up the air during the semester. During the summer the UMASS campus becomes a well-kept ghost town, with green fields in the shadows of the mostly empty buildings.

The absence of the student population was also obvious in the middle of town, for better or worse. The usual struggle to find parking and then a not too busy restaurant that I often encounter during the school year was just the opposite. Instead parking was ample and the restaurants mostly empty. For me it was a delight but talking to the employees, often my age, restaurants and other small businesses that make up the middle of town, feel the absence in their pocket. My girlfriend, a waitress, found the absence of our peers to cause paying rent at the end of the month to be a stress. Since the school year has begun, she usually has her rent paid by the first week of the month.

As shown in this observation of Amherst the coming and going of the student population affects almost every part of the town. With the exodus of the majority of the students comes a calm to a usually bustling town. When classes disperse the town of Amherst becomes an incredibly peaceful place to live. Although the absence of the students makes the town a dream summer destination, the reality is that it depends on the youth. Since the beginning of its history Amherst has been a college town, and has forged itself into a recession proof town as a result. The people of Amherst realize the same thing as me, that my peers and I may be a hassle, but we breath life into the otherwise farming town.

Criminal Activity On and Off the College Campus

By Amanda Lavelle

In the summer of 2011, between the months of May and August, approximately 149 violations were reported in the UMass Amherst Clery Crime Log. In contrast, in the fall semester of the same year, between the months of September and December, approximately 655 violations were reported.[7] The statistics demonstrate that there is an overwhelming amount of campus violations when school is in session which could be attributed to the fact that there are about 21,812 undergraduate students on the UMass campus during the school year versus the amount of students who stay at or around the college during the summer. That is, the more students on campus, the more violations will occur. However, the staggering number is unacceptable and action needs to be taken in order for the number of violations to be reduced; not only for the welfare and reputation of UMass, but also for the town of Amherst.

The top three crimes reported in the monthly Clery Crime Log include disorderly conduct (i.e. “disturbing the peace,” loitering, making unreasonable noise, etc.), larceny and liquor law violations.[8] The problem with the number of violations that occur on the UMass campus may be related to the estranged relationship between the UMass police and the students. Generally speaking, teenagers and young adults are said to have “no respect for authority.” This saying rings true for students who choose to violate the rules and regulations of UMass policies. The UMass Amherst Police Department (UMPD) is a full service police department with 62 sworn officers who have full authority to enforce the laws of the Commonwealth.[9]

(The Republican, 2011)

The sight of a UMass police officer or even an officer’s car can trigger a variety of feelings in a college student: fear, disgust, respect, safety, etc. The first two feelings may be linked to how the officers respond to UMass “riots” and/or parties. During a riot, officers wearing protective masks often ride up on their police horses as a way to control a crowd. Others use smoke bombs to try and disperse the crowd. The way the UMass police are portrayed in this sense makes them seem more like the bad guys instead of the good guys.

In the fall of 2011, I had the unfortunate experience of being pulled over by a UMass police officer. As I was waiting in my car for the officer to come over, a student walking by made a fist in the air and shouted “Yeah!” as if I was purposefully breaking the law to irritate the officer. The officer asked me if I knew why he had pulled me over and I answered that it was because I went through a yellow light. He informed me that I had gone through a red light at the intersection of Massachusetts Avenue and Commonwealth Avenue. When I repeated that the light had been yellow as I went through it, he responded that he had me on video going through the red light. I told him that the lights at that particular intersection only stay green long enough for three cars to go through. He was somewhat friendly about the whole incident so I was surprised when he gave me a ticket and said he was being nice since he reduced the fine from $50 to $30. I appealed the fine and a few weeks later had to go to the Hampshire District Court to make my case for why I should not have been fined. I actually didn’t have to make a case because my dad, who is a police officer, made some calls to officers in that district, but I still had to go to the court. As I was waiting to be called in I noticed about 20 college- aged looking people in the waiting area. A while later, a man came out of a room and said, “Everyone here with a UMass car violation, come through here.” I was astonished when I saw that everyone in the waiting area, including myself, stood up and walked into the other room. I think that the UMass Police Department may have taken mine and other students’ statements into account about the intersection lights because a year later in the fall of 2012, the light stays green long enough for at least six cars to pass through.

A way to reduce the number of violations that occur on the UMass campus is to mend the relationship between student and officer. This may be possible by implementing a program designed specifically for UMass police and students to discuss what is and what is not working about the violations and punishments regarding school police. The program would help the police understand the students and vice versa. Also, the overall number of violations reported in the Clery Crime Log may not even be accurate. Evidence of this was suggested by the staff who were compiling the 2011 statistics and noticed a significant drop in Liquor Referrals from the previous two years. They found that the difference was due to improved software capable of compiling Clery data in a more accurate manner, staff turnover, enhanced Clery training for staff and over reporting of data in previous years.[10] Therefore, there may be less on campus violations if improvements in Clery software and training continue.

(The Republican, 2011)

In addition to the on campus violations are crimes that occur off campus, most of which are noise violations. The way that the Amherst Police Department deals with noise complaints is through the Unlawful Noise By-law which results in a verbal warning, $300 civil infraction (before May 2010, a first offense was $100) or arrest (without a warrant). The law further states that if the person responsible for the excessive, unnecessary or unusually loud noise cannot be determined, the owner, lessee or occupant of the property will be charged.[11] Captain Chris Pronovost of the Amherst Police Department stated in a 2011 Daily Collegian article that there have been about 200 to 300 incidents a year related to unlawful noise.[12]Many students feel that this by-law targets them in particular while Amherst residents believe that the bylaw is necessary.

Similar to the increase of on campus violations in the fall, is the increase of off campus violations, many of which are noise complaints. During the first full weekend (September 6-7) of the 2012 fall semester, Amherst police officers responded to 31 noise complaints, which resulted in 22 arrests and 46 summonses to court for alcohol- and noise-related offenses. In a Daily Collegian article about the weekend of violations, Sargent Todd Lang said, “This was par for the course for this time of year” and “There was nothing too above normal.”[13] This statement is not only embarrassing for the UMass community, but it also shows that the Amherst police expect these events to happen and are not surprised when they do occur.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/amhersttownmeeting

In order for a large college campus community and relatively small town to coexist peacefully, there needs to be an understanding between the two. Students who live off campus should be aware of their surroundings and respect those living around them. However, Amherst residents should take into account that they live in a college town consisting of two colleges, UMass and Amherst College, and the former’s residential students make up about of third (approximately 12,500) of the town’s population of 37,819. One way that to try and mend the relationship between the UMass off campus community with the Amherst community is by having students attend the Annual and Special Town Meetings. Students would be able to voice their opinion on the Unlawful Noise By-law and other by-laws in an appropriate manner. This would be a way to have students who consider themselves residents of Amherst actually be a part of the town’s community rather than a separate entity. Hopefully, the new bond between students and residents would help reduce the number of violations that occur throughout the school year.

Student Outreach in Amherst and Mending Relationships

By Mia Dilluvio

Amherst is located in the west of Massachusetts in Hampshire County. It is a rural location, has a quaint center of town and home to the University of Massachusetts, Amherst College and Hampshire College. Over Labor Day weekend, chaos emerges onto the quiet town. Restaurants have a two-hour wait, the stores on route 9 are ransacked and the traffic coming in and out of town is impossible. It’s move-in day and classes will be back in session for the fall semester. The peaceful summer is instantly forgotten.

http://www.mtctickets.com/cities/images/amherst-ma.jpg

From what I can gather, it seems as though the town of Amherst existence relies on the students who attend any of the three schools. This fall, the population increased by 29,944[14] people. Looking around the town, seeing the amount of bars, coffee shops and eateries, it seems as though Amherst is catering to the students in the area. However, do the students give back to Amherst through means of community outreach? After all, there are plenty of opportunities to repair Amherst’s weaknesses. For example, there is a large homeless population. Many times the men and women with out a home must ride the PVTA buses back and forth in order to stay warm during the harsh New England winter. Another example is Puffer’s Pond, located in north Amherst. After a very warm spring or fall day, the pond and the surrounding area is in shambles, completely covered with beer cans and other garbage. These are just two of the many aspects of the community that need help.

As a student who attends the University of Massachusetts, I was aware that there were groups on campus that provided outreach to the community; some of these even include classes. For instance, I am currently taking a Tutoring in Schools class that requires me to complete 70 hours of tutoring in a school and I receive one additional credit for doing so. Me and the other students taking the course are placed in various after school programs and schools in Amherst, as well as neighboring towns.

IMPACT: A UMass CSEL Outreach Group http://cesl.umass.edu/sites/cesl.umass.edu/files/IMPACT!%202008-2009%20Relay%20For%20Life%2021.jpg

In addition to the courses that require community service, UMass also provides opportunities for extracurricular outreach. UMass’ CESL, Civic Engagement and Service Learning, is a large service organization that “promotes learning for life-long, engaged citizenship, partnering with communities on and off campus to work collectively for a more just society.”[15]  It has five focus areas: Equity in Education, Healthy Futures, Sustainable Communities and Technology for Justice. [16] Each of these areas contribute to the town of Amherst in some way, pointing to courses that a student can take, such as my tutoring in schools class, or even local outreach programs that operate outside of campus. These outreach programs include: The Boys and Girls Club, Everywoman’s Center, Los Amigos and Pioneer Valley Habitat for Humanity. UMass offers these programs so that students can deliberately make a difference in the community. While doing that, they are also creating positive relationships with community members of all ages, from children to the elderly. UMass graduate Lauren DuBois[17] made this connection through the Student Bridges Program, which is a service-learning course where she was a tutor and mentor in a school. Lauren was committed to this program from the beginning of her sophomore year until graduation. She said, “Service-learning is all about relationships. In the process of building those relationships one is also building a relationship with themselves and the world around them.”

At Hampshire College there seemed to be hardly any service groups at all, instead, the Hampshire community concentrates on providing service to their own students. One of the reasons could be that Hampshire College is a bit further from the other two colleges and the center of town. Having been to the college a few times, it is very small and secluded in the woods with only two main entrances, one off of 116 and the other off of West Bay Road. Due to its isolation, the college is less inclined to contribute to the town, thus are more able to focus on their eccentric lifestyle.

UMass Fraternity Party at Pi Kappa Alpha http://www.wbur.org/files/2010/09/0923_amherstfrathouselighting-630×513.jpg

When comparing all of these schools, UMass provides Amherst with the most service. This could be attributed to the University’s massive population and funding. Therefore, more community service can be provided. However, due to the large student population, UMass students tend to be the perpetrators of a majority of criminal activity off campus. These include noise violations, vandalism, public disturbances, all of which disrupt the community (a more in depth analysis of the crime rate is discussed in Amanda Lavelle’s piece). The contribution to the town seem like they were for nothing when the previous mentioned activities are causing disruption. Thus, the relationship and interactions between the college students and Amherst residents are negative. For example, there is an Amherst resident who publishes the names, ages and towns of students who have been arrested online, publicly ridiculing them. Although this is an extreme case, one cannot overlook the fact that this man may not be the only one who is fed up with the behavior of college students in the area.

After finishing this research, I reflected upon what even more outreach could do. Could it potentially mend the strained ties between the residents and college students for good? Or, due to the weekly disruption of the citizen’s lives, would it merely be a temporary solution? It seems to me that there is only so much giving back the University can do to temporarily fix the relationship between the students and the residents of Amherst. At some point, it is going to have to come down to how the students and residents can live in harmony, and a majority of this responsibility will have to lie on the shoulders of the students. Often, students forget that Amherst, although a college town, isn’t merely there for their benefit. It is not a place to get drunk on the weekends and wreak havoc. What the residents are looking for is respect, and until that time comes, I feel as though that there will be no peaceful co-existence.

Students’ Positive Effects on Amherst Businesses

By Julia Basal

Though residents of Amherst may not be pleased with the crowding, noise, and sometimes even crime college students bring to the town, they perhaps might be thankful to know that it may just be college students who keep the town economically stable. It is often said that in the midst of a nation-wide recession, college towns are those most equipped to stay afloat.  Even with the US only slowly coming out of a recession, and still dealing with a high national unemployment rate and economic hardships, the number of college applicants is not going down, and in fact, in the case of UMass Amherst, applicants are increasing.  Students know that the best way to cope with the recession and lack of jobs is to get a college degree.  In 2011 UMass Amherst had a record number of applicants—32,564—and accepted its largest ever freshman class at 4,700 students.  This number is up by more than 200 students from 2010.[18]

With an increasing student population that makes up over half of the population of the town of Amherst (at 37,819)[19] comes increasing business in the town of Amherst.  The unemployment rate in Amherst is 4.8%, compared with 6.5% in the state of Massachusetts, and 7.9% in the United States as a whole.[20]  It appears that the reasoning behind this much lower unemployment rate in the town of Amherst has much to do with the very large student population, which also includes Amherst College’s population of 1,795[21] and Hampshire College’s population of 1,500.[22]

For instance, with the increasing number of students at UMass a growing number of students are forced to live off-campus, maintaining a booming real-estate business in the town of Amherst, especially within apartment complexes and homes for rent.  In the past five years, many houses have been sold and turned into rentals, according to Stephen Walczak, president of the Pioneer Valley Housing Association.[23] Considering roughly forty percent of UMass students live off-campus currently,[24] rental homes and apartments do quite well in Amherst.  Puffton Village, for example, is an extremely popular apartment complex for UMass students living off campus, as it is only a half-mile down the road from the UMass campus.  Puffton Village has 563 units and even with so many units there is only an average two-percent vacancy in Puffton.  The majority of renters are UMass students, and though most students head home for the summer, Puffton requires twelve month leases.  Students can sub-let their apartment over the summer, but if they cannot find any sub-letters they must continue paying rent throughout the summer, so Puffton does not lose any business over the summer months.[25]Even in tough economic times, housing is a necessity for college students, and with the incredibly large student population in Amherst, this helps to keep the town’s economy afloat.

Puffton Village Apartments. http://onlyintherepublicofamherst.blogspot.com/2011/11/party-apartment-of weekend.html

Additionally, college students, especially those without a meal plan, need to eat.  This means creating ample business for local restaurants and grocery stores, so long as these businesses cater to college students’ likes and budgets.  Take Antonio’s Pizza in the center of Amherst on North Pleasant Street.  This pizzeria is known by many to have the best pizza in the area.  The pizzeria opened its doors in 1991, and business is still booming today.  Even when the restaurant first opens at ten o’ clock in the morning one can see simply from looking through the glass front of the shop that there are a good number of customers.  As the day goes on, business grows steadily, and in the last few hours before the 2AM closing time, as students pour out from the local bars, a line forms at Antonio’s that more often than not goes out the door.  Antonio’s does so well because the pizza is good, it is a quick and easy meal for college students to grab on the go, and the prices are relatively cheap at $3.40 a slice for specialty pizzas, and even less for a slice of cheese.  On Friday nights you can grab a slice of cheese for only one dollar from 11PM to 1AM.

Another huge source of wealth students bring to the town of Amherst is through the many bars scattered throughout town.  The cluster of bars of North Pleasant Street are packed every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night, but the bars that appeal to college students—McMurphy’s, Stackers, and the Monkey Bar—are the ones that visibly do the best business, with lines on weekend nights often going out the door and far out onto the sidewalk.  Pitchers of beer at McMurphy’s run from $6 to $7.50, and pitchers of mixed drinks like Grateful Deads or Long Island Iced Teas are $15.  A pint of beer at Stackers pub is $4.00 while pitchers are $9.00.   Not only is the price right at these bars, but they both have casual, sports-bar type vibes inviting to college students.  The Monkey Bar, too, is packed with almost exclusively college students on weekend nights, playing loud hit music.

Line to McMurphy’s Uptown Tavern. Antonio’s Pizzeria in the back. http://onlyintherepublicofamherst.blogspot.com/2012/03/good-bad-ugly.html

The High Horse, a bar which came into existence in December of 2011 is in a prime location on North Pleasant where ABC—A Brewing Company—used to be located before it moved.  The High Horse never has such long lines, however.  This is probably because the bar, though in a good location, is not conducive to college students’ budgets.  Food and drinks are pricier than other bars in town—mac n’ cheese for nine dollars, burgers for thirteen.  Most pints of beer are $6.50, with pitchers of beer priced at $15. And the menu even mocks other “college bars” in town as it reads, “Sorry no-Irish car bombs, long island iced teas, grateful dead I’m broke and on a mission to throw up on my roommate in the cab type drinks”.  But cost isn’t the only consideration, as other bars in Amherst such as Michael’s Billiards and the bar inside the Amherst VFW both offer cheap drinks as well, though they don’t have nearly the large crowds as the bars on North Pleasant as they are not in prime locations easily accessible by students living on or close to campus.

Food For Thought Books. http://tommydevine.blogspot.com/2008/06/last-of-zinesters.html

Local bookstores also do a booming business in Amherst.  Though UMass and Hampshire College have their own campus bookstores, many professors instead place their book orders at Amherst Books or Food for Thought Books, both in downtown Amherst.  Both bookstores typically sell textbooks for cheaper than the campus bookstores.  Food for Thought Books gives a 10% discount to professors who order books from them,[26] while Amherst Books gives a 20% discount to professors ordering books, as well as a 10% discount to all UMass, Amherst College, and Hampshire College students.[27]  But the best thing about these bookstores is that they are both locally and independently run, meaning that money spent at the bookstores goes back into the community of Amherst.  Food for Thought Books especially helps the town, as it is a non-profit business which donates all profits back to the community.  Considering the recent US economic recession, it would be very difficult for these local, independent bookstores to keep their doors open if it weren’t for the students and professors of local colleges buying books year after year. Additionally, coffee shops in town like Rao’s, Amherst Coffee, and the local Starbucks are the study spots for many UMass, Amherst College, and Hampshire College students, especially the ones that live off campus.  The Amherst Starbucks even stays open twenty-four hours during the colleges’ midterms and finals weeks, knowing that during those two weeks each semester students will be up all night studying—and drinking coffee.

Of course, as in any town, there have been quite a few businesses to go out over the years, most notably those businesses that are in close proximity to Antonio’s, as the pizzeria takes up most of the business in that section of North Pleasant Street.  For instance, what used to be a Ben and Jerry’s turned into a wrap sandwich shop called That’s A Wrap, which closed just this past year and is now a frozen yogurt place called FroyoWorld.  Amherst Creperie, which was only open for a year, closed this past year as well and is now a Cajun place called J. Gumbo’s.  There is a very high cost of renting in that space on North Pleasant Street, and for businesses to survive and make a profit, they must appeal especially to college students.  FroyoWorld seems to be doing well so far—perhaps this appeals more to college students than a Ben and Jerry’s as it is a slightly healthier option. That’s A Wrap probably didn’t do so well because of the close proximity to a Subway restaurant, a quick and cheap place for college students to eat.  But even though, as in any town, certain businesses in Amherst quickly go out, the ones that cater more specifically to college student’s tastes and budgets have continued to do well through the economic recession.  It is due in great part to college students that local businesses are able to remain open, thus creating more jobs and more money to give back to the community of Amherst.

Conclusion

Through our research we realized that the disconnect between the students and the local civilians is growing in some ways, while closing in others. While the connection is historically undeniable, the average member of the population does not often recognize the closeness of the communities. We believe for the gap to close and a more unified Amherst to exist it is up to us, the students, to proactively attain this. Through community outreach such as volunteering or even attending town meetings, we believe that the average UMASS student can bridge the gap. Amherst is a greatly unique college town, with its farm town appearance, serving backdrop to the massive intellectual population. The University and Amherst are separate, but we need to move toward becoming one. Both communities are intertwined and are continuing to grow together as they have been since the first building that was erected on campus.

[1] “University of Massachusetts Amherst.” UMass Amherst: History of UMass Amherst. University of Massachusetts Amherst, 2012. Web. 18 Nov. 2012. http://www.umass.edu/umhome/about/history.html

[2] “University of Massachusetts Amherst.” UMass Amherst: History of UMass Amherst. University of Massachusetts Amherst, 2012. Web. 18 Nov. 2012. http://www.umass.edu/umhome/about/history.html

[3] “University of Massachusetts Amherst.” UMass Amherst: About UMass Amherst. University of Massachusetts Amherst, 2012. Web. 18 Dec. 2012. http://www.umass.edu/umhome/about/

[4] “Amherst, Massachusetts.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 29 Nov. 2012. Web. 03 Dec. 2012. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amherst,_Massachusetts

[5] “Amherst, Massachusetts.” Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 29 Nov. 2012. Web. 03 Dec. 2012. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amherst,_Massachusetts

[6] Kofol, Anne K. “Residents Lash Out Against Harvard Development.” Thecrimson.com. The Harvard Crimson, 13 Dec. 2000. Web. 18 Nov. 2012. http://www.thecrimson.com/article/2000/12/13/residents-lash-out-against-harvard-development/

[7] Clery Crime Log: May 2011-December 2011 (UMass Police Department, 2011).

[8] Clery Crime Log :May 2011-November 2012 (UMass Police Department, 2012).

[9] Annual Security Report for 2011 (UMass Police Department, 2012) 2.

[10] Annual Security Report for 2011 (UMass Police Department, 2012) 24.

[11] TBL A2 s3 Unlawful Noise (Amherst Town By-laws/Massachusetts General Laws, 2010) 1.

[12] Nancy Pierce, “Noise By-law challenged as unconstitutional” (The Massachusetts Daily Collegian, 2011).

[13] Scott Merzbach, “Busy weekend for police, ambulances” (The Daily Hampshire Gazette, 2012).

[14] “Student Body Admission and Statistics.” UMass Amherst Undergraduate Admissions. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Nov 2012. <http://www.umass.edu/admissions/facts-and-figures/student-body-and-admissions-statistics>.

“America’s Best Colleges.” Forbes. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Nov 2012. <http://www.forbes.com/lists/2010/94/best-colleges-10_Amherst-College_950091.html>.

“Discover Hampshire.” Hampshire College. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Nov 2012. <http://www.hampshire.edu/discover/index_discover.htm>.

[15] “About Us.” Civc Engagement and Learning Services. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Nov 2012. <http://cesl.umass.edu/aboutus>.

[16] “CESL Focus Areas.” Civc Engagement and Learning Services. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Nov 2012. <http://cesl.umass.edu/aboutus/foucsareas>.

[17] “Equity in Education.” Civc Engagement and Learning Services. N.p., n.d. Web. 28 Nov 2012. <http://cesl.umass.edu/aboutus/focusareas_education>.

[18] University of Massachusetts University Relations. (2012). Points of Pride. Retrieved from http://www.umass.edu/universityrelations/sites/universityrelations/files/pdf/pointsofpride. pdf

[19] Amherst, Massachusetts Districting Advising Board. (2010). Amherst Districting Toolkit. Retrieved from http://www.amherstma.gov/index.aspx?NID=1527

[20] United States Department of Labor. (2012). Bureau of Labor Statistics. Retrieved from http://www.bls.gov/

[21] College Data. (2012). Amherst College. Retrieved from http://www.collegedata.com/cs/data/college/college_pg01_tmpl.jhtml?schoolId=18

[22] Hampshire College. (2012). Facts, Figures, and Faces. Retrieved from http://www.hampshire.edu/admissions/12331.htm

[23] Carey, Mary. (2009). Unsold Homes Adding Supply to Area’s Rental Market. Daily Hampshire Gazette. Retrieved from http://ns.gazettenet.com/2009/02/16/unsold-homes-adding- supply-area039s-rental-market?SESSf6cbf53d447368397b48c6b34b98d5ff=gnews

[24] US News and World Report. (2012). University of Massachusetts Amherst. Retrieved from http://colleges.usnews.rankingsandreviews.com/best-colleges/umass-amherst-2221

[25] New Puffton Village. (2012) Welcome to New Puffton Village. Retrieved from http://www.pufftonvillage.com/index.php

[26] Food for Thought Books Collective. (2012). All About Textbooks. Retrieved from http://www.foodforthoughtbooks.com/textbooks

[27] Amherst Books. (20120). Textbooks. Retrieved from http://www.amherstbooks.com/Textbooks/index.shtml

 

The Old Chapel: An Empty Symbol

By Melissa Mahoney.

The new Chapel is too large a subject to be treated of in as short a manner as would be necessary if undertaken here…. Suffice it to say that it is a source of great rejoicing to see such a fine structure really making its appearance where it is so greatly needed and where it will be so thoroughly appreciated. …The chapel building will furthermore be an honor to the place, and we hope that the end has come to the erection of cheap buildings on the College grounds, and that in future all may be substantial structures worthy of the State which builds them.  — The Index, 1885, Massachusetts Agricultural College

On a nondescript Wednesday in late October, someone rang Old Aggie for the first time in a year, her voice belting out across the University of Massachusetts Amherst in a pleasant baritone. The ringer swung her joyously, if irregularly, and for so long that students started to wonder who had died that was so important as to have two minutes of a bell pealing in their honor in the middle of classes. At last she quieted and grew still. The 42-bell carillon hung silent next to her, verdigris creeping over the copper. I have never heard the carillon ring; no one bothered to play it that day either.

The bell tower’s usual silence pervades the rest of the building, sweeping down the iron ladder and narrow stairwell to the top-floor auditorium where it languishes in the rafters of the impressive vaulted ceiling. Time clings to the walls and pulls at the light blue plaster, sending flakes skittering down the main stairwell to the ground floor. The chapel’s grey granite exterior trimmed in red ocher sandstone is a solid and elegantly convincing facade for the forgotten rooms within.

I have passed this dying giant nearly every day for three and a half years, and I have never known its purpose. At the campus store it features on postcards, mugs, holiday cards, and University stationary—the veritable emblem of UMass—but the building itself remains unused, an empty symbol. This year for Homecoming, the University offered tours through the building—hence the enthusiastic ringer—welcoming back not only its alumni, but its lost heritage. I could not miss the opportunity to enter the building which has been silent for too long.

I step through the front door with a tour group of about twenty, stirring up the fifteen years of disuse that has settled on the floor and windowsills in slender white strands and fluffy grey motes. The tour guide brings us up the wide ash stairs to the auditorium, passing original stained glass windows in orange and gold. The room is massive, or at least larger than one might suppose from the Chapel’s seemingly small exterior. Cracking grey tiles complement the peeling blue plaster on the walls, scuffed and smeared with a hundred years of humanity. Above, the Roman revival vaulted ceiling seems untouched by time. Once, when community service was owed to the University by everyone enrolled, a hundred students stained the timbers a rich nutmeg brown.  Now, while other surfaces crumble, those beams remain pristine; it is as if the wood remembers and cherishes the care it one received, the touch of a hundred hands.

The auditorium is the closest thing to a chapel that the Old Chapel ever was. When it was built in 1884, it was a nondenominational gathering place for the campus community, hosting speakers and graduations for crowds of three to six hundred people. Two rose windows allowed natural light to stream through from the north and south, an unnecessary habit of the architect, as the building is equipped with then-ground-breaking technology: electricity.

We climb another stairwell, narrow this time, and round a corner to yet more stairs, the steps steep and only four inches wide. Climbing sideways, I mount the landing where the dusty carillon keyboard sits and the rope pull for Old Aggie hangs slack. Though there are three and a half octaves of bells above me, I choose to plunk out Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in six round, copper tones on the carillon keyboard. Another tourist grabs hold of the thick rope and begins to ring Old Aggie—the second time in a year that I have heard the bell sing. The tour guide stops us from ringing the bells for too long lest we disrupt classes, but I don’t care. Let them hear! Help them remember these forgotten peals!

I wait my turn to climb the black ladder to the bell tower’s next and smaller level, which houses the tower’s green-and-brass clock works. Ascending to the next level via a smaller ladder, I find myself head-first in the bells. There is no place to stand here, only room to cling to the rungs as the open air whistles past my ears and circles the copper. Above and around, the 43 bells of the Old Chapel hang in perfect silence, waiting to be summoned to sing.

Descending the short ladder, the long ladder, the steep shallow steps, the narrow stairs, the wide stairwell, I find myself again on the ground level. Tourists slip out the open front door as we pass, their curiosity about the beautiful but abandoned building satiated. Elegantly carved double doors paneled in opaque glass and topped with colored panes lead us into the next room, a large classroom with four massive beams supporting the ceiling. Across one blackboard, names and messages have been scrawled in yellow and white chalk, most of them in memory of the late Band Director George Parks. Prior to losing its certificate of occupancy in 1996, the building had been used by the band for rehearsals, practice rooms, and hanging out when the rest of the burgeoning Music Department moved into the completed Fine Arts Center in 1974.

One chalk scrawl catches my attention as I pass: “I took French in this classroom in 1947.” As I walk into the next classroom, I try to imagine the blackboards without the painted-on music staves. I imagine rows of students in sweaters, skirts, and trousers studying Flaubert and Moliere, practicing their conjugations. The classrooms and adjoining staff offices had been built in 1935 as part of President Roosevelt’s New Deal initiative, and at the time housed the English and History Departments, which moved to Bartlett Hall when it was completed in 1960. The walls partition off what had once been the school’s library.

When the Old Chapel was built, the dusty door frames and whitewashed walls had been open from the eastern outer wall to the western outer wall. Library stacks formed up in rows, holding some 10,000 tomes, which grew to nearly 26,000 by 1905. A natural history display (more likely a ‘cabinet of curiosities’) stood somewhere among the stacks. Library offices occupied the north, and a reading room for students occupied the south.

Standing in that reading room more than a century later, I could imagine the smell of printed pages and polished wood, could hear the scratch of nibs on paper and the shuffle of hard-soled shoes. Where bookcases had lined the walls, chalkboards were now installed. Where portraits of prominent UMass officials had once hung above the stacks, the band’s sorority and fraternity seals had been painted with amateur strokes.

Though the building had been loved by the band and used by many departments, I felt that somehow they didn’t truly appreciate what they had, nor do the students who pass by the Chapel’s stone facade every day. To many the Old Chapel is beautiful but silent, useful as a landmark but nothing more.Though the exterior was renovated in 1998, the bell tower rebuilt, and the bells re-hung, the University would not put up funds to finish the job, and so the interior continues to decay. The Old Chapel is now nothing more than a Pelham granite and Longmeadow sandstone case for 43 silent bells—a historic piece of UMass slowly falling into oblivion.

If only that carillon could sing in human tones: 43 voices singing of nearly 130 years of existence, of the hands brushing stain on the wooden beams below, of young women and men carefully pronouncing “Je sonne les cloches”, of tomes and tubas and chalk words erased by a careless passing elbow; of a campus transformed from open rolling fields to tight corridors and asphalt; of a student population that neither knows nor cares of their decline.

Would they worry when their voices echo through spaces where buildings once were, or when they bounce back off buildings that weren’t there before? Would they mourn the loss of the 1900s waiting station from their youth, one of the earliest trolley stops in the area, demolished in the summer or 2012? Would they miss the answering low of cows from the long-gone livestock barns, now Herter Hall? Would they remember the way their voices had bounced off the old Drill Hall, the University’s first gymnasium,  razed for Bartlett Hall in 1957?

Do they worry that they too are headed the way of so many of the University’s legacy buildings—disrepair until demolition? Does their echo reach the new multi-million dollar facilities, the state-of-the-art laboratories, the shining Honors College buildings, the innovative group learning classrooms, the increased dormitory space? Or do those wizened peals evaporate in the air, spiraling out from the mouths of the bells until they have expanded into nothing?

I walk out the door of the Chapel and descend the steps, listening to the lonely creak of the hinges as the tour guide pulls it shut behind. I lean back and stare up at the spire, wondering when I’ll hear those bells again, when the building will be allowed to live again. For now, the Old Chapel is the empty symbol of a University that would rather demolish its past than save it, in the quest for a more prestigious future. It is a shell of what it once was, a locked vault of fallen plaster, unsung copper, and a University’s ignorance.

Bibliography

Massachusetts Agricultural College. “Editorial.” The Index. Vol. 16, No.1. Springfield, MA: Springfield Printing Company, 1885. 14. Print.

Natthorst, Richard. “Contemporaneous News Reports concerning the Beginnings of the Old Chapel Library.” The University of Massachusetts (Unofficial) Old Chapel LIbrary. N.p., n.d. Web. 06 Nov. 2012. <http://people.umass.edu/amae000/news.htm>.

“Old Chapel.” YouMass. Special Collections & University Archives, UMass Amherst Libraries, 18 Oct. 2012. Web. 06 Nov. 2012. <http://www.library.umass.edu/spcoll/youmass/doku.php?id=buildings:o:oldchapel>.

“Drill Hall.” YouMass. Special Collections & University Archives, UMass Amherst Libraries, 18 Oct. 2012. Web. 06 Nov. 2012.<http://www.library.umass.edu/spcoll/youmass/doku.php?id=buildings:d:drill_hall>.

The Lemon House

By Julia Basal.

Growing up, my Dad always told me stories about the Lemon House, a historic house in his hometown of Cresson, Pennsylvania.  As a kid, I never paid too much attention to these stories.  I remember him telling me that his grandparents once lived there, and that Abraham Lincoln had stayed there.  He also told me that there were stories of the house being haunted—of pianos playing by themselves and sheets lifting themselves off beds during the night.  When I was about nine or ten, my family and I took a trip to Pennsylvania to see some of my Dad’s family, and during the trip we visited the Lemon House, which today stands as a historic museum.  I only have the vaguest memories of the visit today.  To be honest, up until beginning this project, I did not give much thought to the Lemon House, and I realized upon starting my research that I did not have the slightest idea what the Lemon House was or is, or why it is significant.  Upon asking my Dad about the place and doing some research of my own, I have discovered the huge wealth of history that accompanies the Lemon House, which is made that much more exciting because of the familial tie I have with the place.

The first thing I did when beginning my research was to call my Dad.  I asked him what he knew and remembered about the place—all the things that I never bothered to listen to as a kid.  First of all, what was the Lemon House? According to my Dad, it first opened as a hotel, and throughout history became a private residence to a few different families.  What I didn’t know—I’m not sure how I missed this as a child—was that the Lemon House was actually right next to the home my Dad lived in growing up.  I remember him talking about his neighbors, the Gaileys, but I didn’t realize until calling him that the Gaileys actually lived in the Lemon House.  Mrs. Gailey told my Dad that before she and her family lived there, my Dad’s maternal grandparents—Catherine and James Glass—lived there for a brief period before moving to a house right down the street.   Throughout our phone call my Dad recollected going over to the Lemon House with his four siblings to play with the seven Gailey children.  He remembers Mrs. Gailey teaching him and his brothers how to dance a polka, as well as how to raise chickens.  He remembers Mrs. Gailey always trying to set him up with her daughter Betty, though the two never really got along.  He also told me he learned from the Gaileys that back when the Lemon House was a tavern it had two bars, one that closed at midnight and one that closed at one in the morning, so that customers would switch over from the one that closed earlier to the one that closed later at midnight.

The phone call with my Dad was interesting, though I still didn’t really understand why the Lemon House stands today as a historic museum—what was the Lemon House, and why is it important today?  Upon doing research I found a whole history that I didn’t even know existed.  I found a really informative document about the house, which answered a lot of my questions.  It’s a Historic Furnishings Report of the Lemon House from the National Park Service and Department of the Interior, written in 1980.  According to the report, Samuel Lemon bought 286 acres of land at the base of the Allegheny Mountains, on the line of Blair and Cambria Counties, PA, in 1826.  The property was alongside the Great Northern Turnpike, constructed in 1820, which allowed for greater transportation to Pittsburgh and the west.  It was also expected to be the location of the Pennsylvania Main Line Canal over the Allegheny Mountain Range.  If this canal was indeed built, it would be the first and only direct train route between Philadelphia and Pittsburgh.  Lemon knew that this railroad would be widely travelled so he bought the property with the idea of beginning a business there (US Department of the Interior).

Upon buying the property, Samuel Lemon cleared twenty acres of the property and built a log tavern.  Travelers on the Northern Turnpike would go to Lemon’s with their horses and wagons to eat, feed their horses, and lodge for a night or two.  In 1831, when construction began on the canal, which was to be known as the Allegheny Portage Railroad, Sam Lemon built a larger house, this time not a log tavern but a huge house made of stone, to accommodate the expected growth of customers and lodgers to the tavern. That stone house became known as the Lemon House—the same one that stands today.  In 1834, the Allegheny Portage Railroad opened for business.  According to tax records, the tavern’s assessed value had doubled by 1835 based on the swarm of business the place received from the Railroad, which a reported 25,000 people travelled on (US Department of the Interior).

The Allegheny Portage Railroad remained open for twenty years, until 1854, when “the Pennsylvania Railroad company had completed its all-rail line from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh,” taking business away from the Alleghany Portage Railroad and eventually leaving it unprofitable (National Park Service).  Samuel Lemon did a good business in his tavern until he and his family moved to Hollidaysburg, PA in 1847 (US Department of the Interior).

Reading this history of the Lemon House was an “Aha!” moment for me.  I finally understood why this was such an important place in my Dad’s childhood—he got to grow up playing with neighborhood children and learning to dance in a house which played an integral part to the history of Pennsylvania.  But the most exciting moment in my research was when I found proof of my great-grandparents stay in the house.  Though Lemon did not give up ownership of the house when he and his family moved, some tenants were reported to have stayed at the Lemon House around the 1880s (US Department of the Interior).  Here is where I discovered my family’s small part in the history of the house.  In the report from the US Department of the Interior, I found this paragraph describing the stay of my great-great grandparents, Catherine and James Glass, at the Lemon House, as reported by the Gaileys, neighbors of my father:

The Gaileys were acquainted with an elderly woman, a Mrs. Glass, who told them that she and her husband lived in the northeast room, first floor, for a short time after their marriage, and that Mr. Glass’ brother and his wife lived briefly in the southeast room, first floor, while their home was under construction.  To the best of the Gaileys’ recollection, Mrs. Glass celebrated her fiftieth wedding anniversary between 1932 and 1942, which would date her short stay in the house between 1882 and 1892.  It is likely that Mr. and Mrs. Glass lived there during the winter months, for Mrs. Gailey was told that they used the fireplace both for cooking and their only source of heat. (US Department of the Interior)

Whereas I found in my research that members of the Lemon family stayed at the house in the warmer months as a summer home, it was really interesting to read that my great-grandparents stayed there in the cold and snowy Pennsylvania winters.  Although I don’t even know what my great-grandparents look like, the image of the two huddled around a fire, cozy in the huge house, comes to mind.  After I found this blurb, I excitedly called my Dad, and he confirmed that the date of Catherine and James Glass’ fiftieth anniversary between 1932 and 1942 makes sense.  I couldn’t believe I was reading an actual published document that spoke of my ancestors—I had never read anything published about the history of my family before.

When I read further into my research, I was even more excited when I got to a short report given by Mrs. Gailey, as told to her by Mrs. Glass.  More written proof of my great-grandmother’s stay in the house! And even better is that it is in her report that I found confirmation regarding my Dad’s story about the two bars. From what my great-grandmother told Mrs. Gailey, the line that separated Blair County, PA from Cambria County went right through the center-most hallway of the Lemon House tavern.  Though no documentation was found to support this, my great-great-grandmother reported that Cambria County laws would not permit waitresses to serve alcohol past midnight.  One bar in the tavern was on the Cambria County side, and the other was on the Blair County side, so that customers in the Cambria bar must have gone to the Blair bar at midnight so that they could drink for an extra hour (US Department of the Interior). I found it greatly amusing that it was my own great-grandmother who told this story—I can only imagine her as a little old lady, hurriedly rushing from one bar to the next at midnight just to get an extra hour of drinking and merriment.

The next question I wished to get to the bottom of was if Abraham Lincoln had actually stayed at the house. According to the US Department of the Interior report, it was rumored that Lincoln had stayed in the room to the right of the stairs, room 206, now known as “the Lincoln room.”  A biography of Lincoln states that he travelled to the nation’s capital in 1849, and due to the urgency of his trip he may have elected to take the most direct route—the Allegheny Portage Railroad. Thus, Lincoln may very well have stayed a night at the Lemon House, though there is no documentation to directly prove this.

I did find out however, through the National Parks Conservation Association, that Charles Dickens and Ulysses S. Grant stayed at the Lemon House.  According to Wikipedia, American Notes for General Circulation, a travelogue in which Charles Dickens explains his trip to North America, discusses his trip to the Allegheny Railroad in the tenth chapter.  He visited the Lemon House sometime in the first half of 1842 (American Notes).

Next I wondered how the history of the Lemon House changed—from a tavern and lodge for travelers on the railroad to the private residence of the Gaileys, my father’s neighbors. What I found was that when Samuel Lemon died in 1867, he left the Lemon House to his wife, Jean, who died thirteen years later. At that point, in 1880, the house became property of John and Samuel Jr., two of their sons.  For the fifteen years leading up to John’s death, his family stayed at the Lemon house often during the summer. It wasn’t until John Lemon’s death in 1895 that Samuel Jr. took an interest in the Lemon House and claimed his ownership of the place.  There was reportedly some turmoil between Samuel and the remaining Lemon family because, after John’s death, he took the place from John’s wife who was living there at the time, and on top of that he gave the Lemon House to his wife, Mary E., in his will.  When Samuel died in 1903, Mary got complete control over the Lemon House, and since she had no fond memories of the place or familial ties to it, she sold it out of the Lemon family in 1907 (US Department of the Interior).

Many different owners inhabited the Lemon House in the years after Mary E. sold it. In 1914, the owner at the time—Joseph Weston—was running a dairy farm at the residence and hired James Gailey, then a 12 year old boy, to work on the farm. In 1917, Gaily moved in to be a full-time farm hand.  When Joseph and his wife died, their son moved to Pittsburgh with his family and asked the Gailey family to move in and protect the house, so they leased it and lived there from 1943-1954 (US Department of the Interior). This lines up with my father’s childhood, as he was born in 1937.

The Gaileys moved in with five children, with two more to be born in the years they lived at the Lemon House. James Gailey was an electrician and Zella Gailey cared for the seven children.  They took in boarders for sleeping accommodations in the furnished upstairs bedrooms, and for a short time after the war, Zella’s brother, Ted, lived in the upstairs wing.  The Gaileys lived in the central living quarters on the first floor (US Department of the Interior).

After discovering this history of the Lemon House, the stories that my Dad told me on the phone and throughout all of my childhood about living next to the Lemon House became so much more significant.  I had no idea when I was a kid touring the house that my great-grandparents stayed in the very place. The rooms I walked through were the very rooms that Mrs. Gailey taught my Dad and his brothers how to dance.  All the stories my Dad had told me suddenly gained a whole new importance—stories of how he and his brothers would go over to the Gailey’s home to watch TV, as they were the first ones in town to have a color TV, or stories of how Mrs. Gailey showed my Dad how to keep chicks warm in the delicate days after hatching.  It was truly mind-blowing to unearth all this history that was sitting right under my nose for years, and to realize I had waited so long to discover some fascinating family history.

As far as the history of the Gaileys at the Lemon House, they moved in the early 1950s, and Byron and Florence Roberts bought the house in 1954. They were the last private owners, living there until 1966 when the house was sold to the National Park Service (US Department of the Interior).

Though I discovered so much about the Lemon House through my research, one question still lingered in my mind—were there reports that the place was haunted, as my Dad had told me?  When I searched the subject, I came to a few sites listing all the claimed haunted places in Pennsylvania.  All the websites had the same little blurb about the Lemon House: “This National Historic site at the summit of the Allegheny Portage Railroad was once a tavern and inn.  It is documented that people have died in the house.  National Park Service employees have reported strange noises of banging and of windows and doors shutting at night.  Foggy nights are the most active times” (Cresson Lemon House).  As told by the Gailey children to my Dad and his siblings, the pianos in the house would play by themselves and sheets would fly off the beds at night.  Who knows what the truth of the matter is, but it is interesting nonetheless.

I come away from this project having discovered a huge chunk of knowledge about a historic Pennsylvania house, but most significant to me is how much I found out about my family’s role in the place, and about the role of my father’s childhood neighbors.  Though my Dad would often tell me stories about the Lemon House, it was not until completing this research that I felt a connection to it.  It is exciting to know that, even if minutely so, the history of Lemon House holds a connection to my ancestors.

1830s photograph of the Lemon House in Cresson, PA. http://www.ebay.com/itm/1830-Lemon-House-Inn-Cresson-Pa-Cambria-County-1930s-View-Print-/270977630614.

A painted depiction of the Lemon House, showing its proximity to the railroad tracks. http://www.funimag.com/funimag28/Allegheny01.htm.

The Lemon House today: http://www.chss.iup.edu/kpatrick/Central%20PA%20Trip.shtml.

Works Cited

American Notes. (2012, July 21). In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved October 29, 2012, from http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=American_Notes&oldid=503498212.  Cresson Lemon House. (2012). Forgotten USA. Retrieved from http://forgottenusa.com/haunts/PA/10291.

National Parks Conservation Association. Allegheny Portage Railroad National Historic Site [Data file]. Retrieved from http://www.npca.org/parks/allegheny-portage-railroad-natio.html.

National Park Service. Allegheny Portage Railroad [Date file]. Retrieved from http://www.nps.gov/alpo/historyculture/index.htm.

United States Department of the Interior/National Park Service. (1980). The Lemon House Allegheny Portage Railroad National Historic Site [Data file]. Retrieved from http://www.nps.gov/history/history/online_books/alpo/lemon.pdf

A Guarded Craft

By Shoki Yashiro.

When I was about nine years old, my father had just moved back to Japan, and my mother began looking for ways to support our family. She worked odd jobs—sometimes as a secretary at a nutritional company called Ultimate Energy in Acton, Massachusetts, sometimes as an assistant manager at a Japanese bookstore in Cambridge, and every winter as a ski instructor at Nashoba Valley Ski Area. One day, however, she took a vacation, and fell in love.

It was Nantucket Island—the small, whale-shaped piece of land thirty miles off the coast of Massachusetts. To her, it was a high-end paradise—something she could aspire to in America.

Nantucket is a beautiful, pristine coastal island—the beaches are flat, and extend onward into the horizon as the land curves out around the Atlantic, covered in muted shades of dune grass. The roads are quaint and narrow, winding around the densely populated town, occasionally falling into spots where the cobblestones from generations past still cover the ground. The people here are wealthy—Nantucket has the highest median property value of any Massachusetts town—the people who have houses here are either extremely wealthy, or have had the house in their family for generations. Even the people who do have houses here rarely live here—the population in Nantucket increases from 10,000 people in the offseason to 50,000 people during the summer months.

But it wasn’t the wealth, beauty and class of Nantucket that brought my mother back time and time again—it was the baskets. Nantucket baskets are a high-end woven basket, intricately crafted with Polynesian reed, cane, wood and ivory. The craft is fiercely guarded by the locals of the island, who were at first quite unwelcoming of this middle-aged Japanese woman, begging to be taken as an apprentice under one of the premier basket weavers. They were afraid she would bring the craft outside of the island, and expose this hidden art form to the general public—to be fair, this is exactly what she did. In any case, after a few years of nagging, a very respected and accomplished basket maker named Alan Reed (no pun intended) agreed to teach her.

An old-style Native American woven wood basket with square-woven bottom.

The Nantucket basket has a long history, deeply rooted in the culture of the island. Its first influences lie in the “some 3000 natives of the Wampanoag tribe” that inhabited the island, known in their tongue as “faraway land” (Oldham). The natives wove utilitarian baskets out of ash splints and weavers with a square woven bottom for use in and around the home. In 1659, the island was purchased to be settled as and English colony by a few names you will see all over this island, even today—names like Coffin, and Macy, Swain, and Pike. The purchase document, preserved in the collection of the Nantucket Historical Association, reads: “all right and interest that I have in the Island of Nantucket… for and in consideration of the sum of Thirty pounds … and also two bever hats one for myself and one for my wife” (Oldham).

Eventually, the Nantucketers discovered whaling—inspired by the natives, who rode out in canoes to kill small whales offshore, the predominantly Quaker settlers began to hunt “right” whales off the coasts—so called for the ease with which they were hunted, and the large amounts of fuel oil their blubber yielded. However, in 1715 a sperm whale was taken by a Nantucket sloop blown out in a gale, and a new era began. The sperm whale’s gigantic skull is filled with a goopy, sperm-like oil that burned in a clean, smokeless fire and with efficiency which was unheard of then. Nantucket became the premier whaling port of the world, along with New Bedford just down the coast, as they began sending large whaleships around the world, voyages lasting typically two to five years. Each whaleship was outfitted with everything it needed to hunt the enigmatic creature, as well as to “try out” the blubber, boiling it into a burnable fuel. In order to store the oil, each ship had to have a cooper—a barrel-maker.

An authentic 19th Century Lightship Basket, made by Captain Andrew Sandbury.

The whaling coopers, whose only task was to repair and make barrels onboard a four-year journey, were the first to make what is now called a Nantucket basket. With all the tools to craft wood, the coopers began to weave hybrid baskets incorporating elements of the Wampanoag baskets with a wood base from New Hampshire work baskets. As the whalers traveled across the world, they came upon a strong, beautiful cane reed in the South East, and particularly in the Phillipines. Using this cane as weavers, the Nantucket basket slowly emerged.

As the discovery of petroleum emerged in the late 19th Century, the whaling era of Nantucket ended, and the island settled down. However, in 1856, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts commissioned “lightships”—large, floating lighthouses to help guide ships through the dangerous South Shoals, and Davis’ Shoal. These approximately 10-man crews, like the whaling coopers, found themselves with plenty of time to kill. They began weaving “Nantucket lightship baskets”—refined versions of the baskets woven on the whalers. These baskets were widely used around the island, and became popular with visitors. The craft of basket-making became a cultural symbol of the island, and “was passed on from one man to another along with molds, tools and trade secrets” (“Nantucket Lightship”). Even as the lightships were decommissioned, the craft continued on the island.

Jose Reyes inserting a new weaver into his untapered cane staves. Courtesy of the Nantucket Historical Association.

However, everything changed with the arrival of Jose Formoso Reyes, a Filipino man who came to Nantucket to settle after graduating Harvard and later fleeing the Philippines during World War II. Intrigued by the baskets all around him, Reyes quickly mastered the craft and modified it to his own taste. From the Nantucket Rafael Osona Auction House:

By 1948, [Reyes had] invented lids fashioned in the same manner as the baskets themselves: cane weavers fixed into a grooved wooden plate that had been bolted to a mold, with staves – or ribs – splayed out around it, as a framework for the weavers. A hardwood rim mirrored the rim on the basket; the lid affixed with cane-wrapped leather loops. […] Eventually, the addition of ivory whales, shells or gulls carved in relief and centered on the plate added interest – and status – to the various baskets. Quite suddenly, Reyes’ uniquely stylish Friendship Baskets were attracting the attention of Nantucket’s ladies and visitors alike. Wait lists for a José Reyes Friendship basket grew from months to years, as his practical invention evolved from becoming locally fashionable to a bona fide cottage industry. (Walsh)

The Nantucket Friendship Baskets became a symbol of status and elegance, and were used as everyday purses and handbags.

Reyes’ signature and etching of Nantucket island on the wood base of a Friendship Basket. Courtesy of Google Images.

Now, the Nantucket basket is a rare and valuable piece of history—it is perpetuated on the island by well-known basket-makers such as Nap Plank, Michael Kane, Judy Sayle, and Alan Reed—all names you will find on the website of the Nantucket Lightship Basket Museum.

When Alan Reed, a “grumpy and sour old man”, as described by my mother, finally agreed to teach her, she was ecstatic. She began making multiple trips to the island from our home in Arlington, often for single days at a time, until Alan started letting her stay at his home. Even the other local shopkeepers and basket makers on the island began to warm up to her, welcoming her as a familiar face. Eventually, Etsuko became one of Alan’s best students, learning how to soak and soften the wood staves and rim pieces, how to tight-weave the reed and carve latch-pieces and hinges out of wood, and eventually ivory. Now, Etsuko Yashiro’s Nantucket baskets sit in the displays at the Nantucket Lightship Basket Museum, and she is one of the better weavers in the world. By her own account, “there are a few that are still better than me. Alan, definitely. And Michael Kane, and Judy [Sayle].”

Meanwhile, as her other jobs began to fall apart (Ultimate Energy went bankrupt in the late 90s, and Sakura, the Japanese bookstore in the early 2000s), she began teaching basket-weaving in our basement to bored Japanese housewives in America. She did this steadily from 1996 to about 2002, when some disgruntled neighbors complained to the town about the number of cars that were parking near our house. Prohibited from running a business out of her home, Etsuko decided to take out a loan and open a studio. “I started GrayMist Nantucket Basket Studio in 2002, and we decided to open a gift store as well, to cover the rent. It’s in Cambridge, so the rent is very high,” she says, partly in English, though turning steadily into Japanese. The store is located in Huron Village, and focuses on selling Nantucket and New England gifts, as well as every material and supply needed to craft Nantucket baskets: tools, reed, cane, molds, bases, rims, lids, handles, knobs, wooden washers, straps, hardware—even ivory carvings, though, as Etsuko says, “we only buy and sell fossilized mammoth ivory and recycled antique ivory”.

However, GrayMist is only a fraction of the New England Nantucket Basket Association (NENBA), founded by Etsuko Yashiro after the studio opened. Many of the people who learned to make baskets from my mother in turn wanted to teach Nantucket basket-making. These people, almost exclusively Japanese housewives with plenty of free time, eventually spread out across America and Japan, teaching the guarded Nantucket craft under my mother’s contract. Now, there are more than two hundred people teaching under her, from as diverse locations as Washington State, to Okinawa, Japan, and even out to Lanciano, Italy.

Disney Sea Japan’s toy “Cape Cod Basket”
A double-handled oval purse with ivory latch, base, and carvings. Made by Etsuko A double-handled oval purse with ivory latch, base, and carvings. Made by Etsuko Yashiro, currently at the Nantucket Lightship Basket Museum. Notice the double handle—something you will see in no one else’s baskets. Courtesy of GrayMist Studios.

Two years ago, one of her students sent her a plastic toy Nantucket basket, made by Disney and sold packed with candy at the “Cape Cod” area of Disney Sea Japan—which would have seemed like a coincidence, if Disney had not used a distinctive double-handled basket style that my mother had invented years earlier.

And so, the craft of the Nantucket basket is not so well-guarded anymore—my mother saw to that. But still, there are some things that even Etsuko will never reveal. Alan Reed, a master in every facet now of his craft, has taught her things that no student will ever pry from her—how to carve an ivory latch, how to hide nails in the rim of the basket, et cetera. And perhaps that’s why the Nantucketers no longer cast conspiring glares at my mother, why they instead welcome her as one of their own—there’s an unspoken contract there. They allow her to learn, and to teach the craft, as long as she continues to guard the most important secrets of her trade, a trade deeply rooted in Nantucket’s culture.

Works Cited

“Nantucket Lightship Baskets; A Historic Perspective.”Nantucket Lightship Basket Museum. Nantucket Lightship Basket Museum, n.d. Web. 31 Oct 2012. <http://www.nantucketlightshipbasketmuseum.org/LightshipBaskets.html>.

Oldham, Elizabeth. “A Brief History of Nantucket.”Nantucket Historical Association. Nantucket Historical Association. Web. 1 Nov 2012. <http://www.nha.org/library/faq/briefhistory.html>.

Walsh, Carolyn. “Jose Formose Reyes (1902-1980).”Rafael Osona Auctions. Rafael Osona Auctions. Web. 4 Nov 2012.

Yashiro, Etsuko. Telephone Interview. 2 Nov 2012.

The Shoah

By Noah Robbins.

My skin felt bare and cold as we huddled together in the dark corner of the grey- cemented death chambers. I held my best friend’s hands tighter than I held my father’s as a child while we prayed silently. I kept my eyes closed as tightly as I could, bracing for the burn of death to overcome the darkness. My teeth were rapidly chattering in fear as the tears began to flow uncontrollably from my clenched eyes. I waited with my eyes closed, tears flowing down my cold face, for the gas to come and to take away my breath. It never came. I finally opened my eyes as my friend nudged my shoulder. As so many before us never did, we walked hand in hand out of the gas chambers at the Nazi death camp, Majdanek.

I only made it a few steps out onto the grass on that cold Polish-winter day before collapsing to my knees and letting the tears become audible sobs. My heart felt like it was going to burst with the combination of anger and anguish. Majdanek was one of the six major death camps during the Holocaust and was responsible for the death of at least 80,000 innocent people. I had stood, breathed, and lived in the same place where so many of my ancestors had their final breathes stolen from them.

When I was finally able to collect myself I rose from my knees and looked around to my fellow classmates, all of who were mourning as I was. Majdanek marked the second of the three major death camps we were viewing on our five-day tour of Poland. The day before we had stood in the forest outside of a small Polish village called Tikochin. On a winter afternoon at the beginning of the Holocaust, not so different than the one on I endured during my visit, the whole Jewish population was wiped out in the matter of an afternoon by the Nazi’s mobile killing units, or in German, Einsatzgruppen. They were taken from there homes, marched into the woods where I stood a day before, lined up, and shot dead into a mass grave which they had been forced to dig for themselves. A survivor I met, in her last few years of life, told me she was saved by faking dead under the weight of her beloved brother and sister’s dead bodies while the Nazi’s murdered the rest of her community. I will never forget her wrinkled face and sad black eyes as she told me her story of loss and survival

As my group and I made our way through Majdanek the reality of what had occurred there was impossible to ignore.  My best friend, Isaac and I stood beside a small memorial pond and attempted to grasp what we had witnessed through philosophical conversation. Questions such as could there really be a God or what the hell are we doing with our lives were thrown around aimlessly as we both fought to hold back the pure sadness behind our eyes. I bent down to pick up a small ceramic looking rock to examine what it might be. To my utter horror and dismay my friend informed me that I was holding a piece of human bone.  With a gasp of astonishment I dropped the bone chip to the ground where I discovered there were many fragmented human remains just like it beneath my feet. After discussing it with Isaac we decided to collect a small bag of the bone fragments and bring them back to Israel with us where we would give these people a proper Jewish burial.

We traveled through Poland, a group of one hundred American students, viewing the many different death camps and mass graves where our ancestors unceremoniously lay. All of us were of the tender ages of fifteen and sixteen, barely experienced in life, let alone in death. After living in Israel for two months, the striking evil of what had occurred in Poland and the aura that lingered decades later was amply evident.  The bus rides from death camp to death camp were long, and quite, as most of the students would stare solemnly out the windows into the woods, wondering if they were unmarked graves.

The only bright moment of Poland surprisingly occurred at Auschwitz, the most infamous of the concentration camps. My group and I were up in the bell-tower, shown in Schindler’s List, discussing all the souls that had passed through the gate and never came out, when a brigade of Israeli soldiers arrived. It is tradition for Israel soldiers in training, which is every Israeli youth between 18-20, to visit Poland and the death camps, as to be reminded of what they are defending.  In the elegant form of a marching band, they marched in with Israeli flags raised high, accompanied by pounding drums, and triumphant blows of trumpets and trombones. I stood in the bell-tower watching hundreds of Jews proudly walk over the same tracks where they had once been shuttled in like cattle to their death. My face grew red with overwhelming pride as tears slowly streamed down my face to my open smile.

Before we left Majdanek we stood over a massive bowl that from afar looked like a domed football field on the outer limits of the death camp. When we finally made our way to it we discovered that it was a giant bowl, no less than a hundred feet deep, filled with human ash. The Nazi’s burned so many bodies in the adjacent ovens that they ran out of places to put the ash so they created this giant bowl to hold it all.  For weeks and months after the trip I would awake with cold sweats in the dead of night from nightmares. I would be jolted from my sleep as the horror of being stripped of my clothes and herded into gas chambers as everyone I knew suffocated around me. The cold sweat was probably from the final part of the dream, where I would stand hopelessly outside of my body, as it was burned into ash in the ovens.

*shoah: holocaust in hebrew

Pluto, 1930-2006

By Carl Mead.

I learned when I was a kid that Pluto was a planet. This was a big thing for me. I loved space. I wanted to be an astronaut. I wanted to go to the planets. I wanted to know all about all the planets. I had a mobile above my bed that I had made–or maybe my brother had made it–with the planets in order, and Pluto was a small Styrofoam ball colored with a dark blue marker hanging on the outermost ring. In third grade, I made a Jeopardy!-style board game where players had to answer questions about the planets, and Pluto was the final spot with the hardest questions. There was the Magic School Bus episode I recorded on the VCR where Miss Frizzle took her students on a field trip to each of the planets, and Arnold, having been upset during the entire trip, reached Pluto at the end of his tether and took his helmet off, turning his head–and hair–to ice, just like in real space (Meehl and Stevenson).

None of those things is entirely important, and I realize that, but they are experiences that are all mine. And now, they’re not just unimportant; they’re meaningless. They’re archaic. On August 24, 2006, the International Astronomy Union announced its new definition of planets, which removed Pluto from consideration (Inman). And so, I and what I knew about space became wrong. If I were to dig out any one of those old things – the mobile, the board game, the VHS – and give them to my kid, however many years from now, my kid would look up at me and ask why it was wrong. Pluto’s not a planet.

Even so, Pluto’s not exactly irrelevant either. It hasn’t disappeared from our system or our culture. Pluto’s demotion initially stirred interest in astronomy, at least for a little while, as people wrestled with the announcement (Inman).

The tv show “Psych” capitalized on the demotion of Pluto with this running gag of a pick-up line (Franks).

Seeing this, or perhaps recognizing that there is something special about the work of Percival Lowell and Clyde W. Tombaugh even if it wasn’t quite what they’d hoped, the International Astronomical Union created a new category of space object, variously called dwarf planets, plutons, or plutoids. This has enhanced our understanding of just what’s out there, and as we identify more and more what’s in our reach, as we make smaller cell phones and smash bosons together, discoveries like that of Tombaugh will shed some light for us when we start again to search beyond what we can already see close-up.

In 1781, William Herschell discovered Uranus. In 1846, working from irregularities in figures relating to Uranus’s orbit, John C. Adams and Urbain Le Verrier independently and nearly simultaneously discovered Neptune. From 1906 to his death in 1916, Percival Lowell unsuccessfully searched for a ninth planet following irregularities in figures relating to Neptune’s orbit. After a prolonged legal battle following Lowell’s death, Clyde W. Tombaugh continued the search for a ninth planet. In 1930, Tombaugh confirmed his discovery of Pluto and confirmed it as the ninth planet in our solar system (Arnett).

Is Tombaugh’s discovery now as meaningless as my third grade board game? On the one hand, Tombaugh would probably fade to obscurity without Pluto as his other discoveries amount to the tracking of some 800 asteroids (Darling). On the other hand, that’s not really how the declassification of Pluto would work. It’s not as though, now that Pluto is considered a dwarf planet instead of a planet, Tombaugh didn’t see the object in the sky and track its movements. He saw something which we now better understand to be a far-flung piece of the Kuiper belt, similar to the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter but much further from the sun. It was Tombaugh’s work–which was an extension of Lowell’s work, which in turn extended Le Verrier’s and Adams’s work in discovering Neptune, which was based on discoveries and figures led by Herschel in the discovery of Uranus–that led to the discovery of the Kuiper belt, but more than that, led to the investigation of the possibility of its existence. Before Tombaugh, there was no hint that anything of the magnitude of the Kuiper belt might be out there.

Also, despite being stripped of its status, Pluto maintains at least some level of unique cultural impact. For instance, there’s the cartoon dog, Pluto. Whether the Disney character is named for the planet cannot be known for certain, though it is supported by some of the people involved; Disney animators and Venetia Phair, who suggested naming the planet Pluto, give contrasting accounts (Wikipedia). In any manner, there is no denying the fact that Pluto the dog was named within two years of the naming of Pluto the planet, and without that, Pluto would have been a far less likely household name, especially considering the relative accessibility of the other “big five” of Disney: Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, and Daffy. They all end in the same diminutive sound. Pluto doesn’t sound the same at all. I would think, ordinarily, a name like Pluto would have something of a higher threshold to get over in terms of acceptability in contrast with names like Goofy and Mickey. However, drawing on alliteration, the writers at Disney drew out Playful Pluto and turned the Roman name of the god of the underworld into something for children to latch onto. The name adds something unique in that way; without Tombaugh’s discovery, Pluto would likely have defaulted to a more normal name like Fido and may have become something of a one-off. But with the name of the planet to either inspire it or at least play off of, Pluto the pup was able to become one of the Disney mainstays such that I know who he is even if I know almost nothing else about him. He’s the one that doesn’t talk, right? Whether Pluto’s a planet or not, that dog is here to stay.

On the other hand, with the demotion of Pluto, Gutav Holst’s musical suite The Planets returns–rightfully, I’d say–from eight movements to seven movements. From 1914 to 1916, Holst wrote this suite with each movement reflecting and developing the personalities of each planet drawing primarily from their characterizations in western astrology (Oxford “Holst”). As such, the movement titled “Jupiter” was not about a big red spot or a whole lot of moons, nor was it about being the lord of the gods in ancient Roman religion; instead, “Jupiter” bears the subtitle “The Bringer of Jollity” as fits its astrological characteristics. In 1930, following the discovery of Pluto, people implored Holst to write a new movement for the new planet.

Pluto’s astrological sign (Wikipedia).

Let’s ignore for a second the fact that Pluto, immediately following its discovery, likely did not have an astrological personality associated with it, and let’s also ignore the fact that adding an eighth movement would have necessitated a change in the ending of “Neptune, the Mystic,” which was one of the earliest fade-out endings in music. And then there’s the whole thing where it had been a decade and a half since he’d written the original piece, as well as the fact that his health was deteriorating to the point where he would die four years later. Ignoring all that, Holst had come to dislike the suite, seeing that it had overshadowed what he considered to be his stronger works and refused to write the new movement (Oxford).

When I first heard the piece, I wondered why there wasn’t an eighth movement myself. I was sure that over the years there were many attempts to tack one on. I didn’t know it then, but by the time I became familiar with the piece, someone had indeed written one. In 2000, Colin Matthews was commissioned to change the ending of “Neptune” write a new movement, “Pluto, the Renewer.” But it did feel tacked on, to me anyway, whether because it really wasn’t as good or because I like the original seven too much. With the new definition of planets in 2006, there was no longer any perceived need to add an eighth movement, and the Matthews could be shelved away or relegated to YouTube. And it was really all a shame because for seventy years, there were idiots like me who were saying this piece was incomplete because the number of planets had changed. But that wasn’t it at all; the planets, whether there are eight now, nine ten years ago, or six four hundred years back, are the same. They are there, wherever they are, moving around, and what we think of them has nothing to do with them. Holst’s composition wasn’t incomplete. It was complete at that point. Even that board game I made in third grade isn’t now wrong. It’s just that it now used to be right.

Works Cited

“File:Pluto’s astrological sign.” Wikipedia. Wikipedia, 20 Oct. 2006. Web. 5 Nov. 2012.

“From the Earth to the Starbucks.” Writ. Steve Franks. Psych. USA. 26 Jan. 2007.

“Gets Lost in Space.” Writ. Brian Meehl and Jocelyn Stevenson. The Magic School Bus. PBS. 10 Sept. 1994.

“Holst, Gustav.” Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, 5 Nov. 2012. Web. 5 Nov. 2012.

“Matthews, Colin.” Oxford Music Online. Oxford University Press, 5 Nov. 2012. Web. 5 Nov. 2012.

“Pluto (Disney).” Wikipedia. Wikipedia, 5 Nov. 2012. Web. 5 Nov. 2012.

Arnett, Bill. “Pluto,” “Neptune,” “Uranus,” and “Chronology of Solar System Discovery.” Nine Planets: A multimedia tour of one sun, eight planets, and more. Ed. Bill Arnett. N.p., 2 June 2007. Web. 5 Nov. 2012.

Darling, David. “Tombaugh, Clyde W.” Encyclopedia of Science. Ed. David Darling. N.p., 4 Nov. 2012. Web. 5 Nov. 2012.

Inman, Mason. “Pluto Not a Planet, Astronomers Rule.” National Geographic Online. National Geographic, 24 Aug. 2006. Web. 5 Nov. 2012.

Not So Peaceful After All

By Annette Gildshtein.

New England is known for rich historic towns, victory of expelling the British, and subsequently fueling the economy with thriving ports. One town in particular is uniquely notorious for its paranormal past and many historical landmarks that have been restored over the years. The present day Danvers, Massachusetts, was once Salem Village, homestead for the witch trials of 1692. Salem, Massachuestts still continues to attract tourists with its mystical colonial architecture and galore of nick-knack witch shops.

The town was founded in 1626 by Roger Contant and named after the nearby Naumkaeg River. Two years later John Endecott and the Massachusetts Bay Colony renamed it Salem, derived from the word salaam in Arabic and Hebrew shalom – meaning peace. Ironically, during the witchcraft era, having not lasted even a year, nineteen men and women were put to death because of alleged witchery accusations. The mass hysteria took over this newly founded town as quickly as it went away.

January of 1692, eight young girls contracted a strange illness. The symptoms included: seizures, fever, hallucinations, and painful skin. This was so odd that doctors saw no medical treatment possible and diagnosed it as bewitchment. The first few who reported sickness was the pastor’s daughter Betty Paris and his niece Abigail Williams. Since the community was closely knit, kids often played together around the neighborhood, it was no surprise that soon their good friend Ann Putnam also got infected.  A main suspect was their Indian slave Tituba, only because she had been telling tales of voodoo from her South American heritage. To see if this disease was contagious she made a cake with Bettys infected urine and fed it to the dog. Her actions only further hurt her case. Not only are animals associated with witches considered “accomplices”, but their dog started acting crazy too. Infuriated, Samuel Parris (Bettys father/her owner), continued to beat the slave until she cried a confession. During her admission, she named Sarah Good and Sarah Osborne, claiming they were apart of the witch community too. This was the first confession of the gruesome trials. She was then thrown into jail. Luckily, after thirteen months of being isolated and sitting in a cold, dark cell, an unknown person paid the seven pounds bail – releasing her into their possession.  Throughout the trials, hundreds of innocent people were accused and imprisoned. The many who did confess to their allegations of devilish work, only did so because of torture or other forms of coercion such as various ways of being put to death. When the non-guilty admitted to their claims, they would repent and be released back into society. Since news travels fast, sometimes they were reluctant to return under the publics eye and being labeled as a witch.

http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/salem/SALEM.HTM

Someone accused of witchcraft was essentially accused of working with the devil and such crimes were against their government. If caught and convicted, the punishment would result in death. Majority of these citizens would confess their faults in order to be released. Eventually over the years, witches were seen in a different light. Witches claim to be the exact opposite – focusing on the good and positive. They are prideful in their spirituality, believing in human rights and have a great appreciation for nature. Most on the contrary do not have any connection with the devil and don’t succumb to black magic.

http://www.salemweb.com/tales/images/corwinhse.jpg

One of the only structures still standing today, and tied with the trials, is the home of Judge Jonathan Corwin. He was a local magistrate who served on the Court of Oyer (to hear) and Terminer (to decide) to rule the witchcraft accusations that have plagued the town. These rulings sentenced an alleged nineteen villagers, thought to be doing the devils work, to be hung. He bought the home in 1675 and moved in with his wife Elizabeth Gibbs and their ten children. They lived in this home for about forty years and it remained in the family until the 1800’s. Today this home has been restored as The Witch House Museum, to show off the architecture and lifestyle of families living during the 17th century. Wood, being cheap and durable, was clearly a main element from head to toe when this home was originally being built and designed. The rooms are relatively simple, with appropriate amounts of decoration and narrow spiraling staircases leading upstairs. The central piece of what seems to be the dining/living room, is a long, dark wooden table with four chairs surrounding it. Though they are obviously 20th century made, there is something about the extended backs and specific, fine details of these chairs making everything seem that much more authentic. The ceiling too is made of huge, thick chunks of wood criss-crossing to support the decrepit structure. Incidentally, the fireplace is the only piece of the puzzle that seems to be made of bricks. I suppose that was a smart idea, it seems as though too many things during this era were set on fire.  The stained, white walls and scattered candles are the only things giving the place a lighter feel. In a sense, it was restored eerily too perfectly. As if the Corwin’s souls descend from the heavens every night for their usual family meal at six o’clock.

http://www.salemwitchtrialsfacts.com/gallery/Gallows-3.jpg

If the name Gallows Hill was tossed around in conversation, every bystander would cringe at the image that pops into their head. The Hill was the designated location for the accused to be hung. The condemned were carted up and ironically not hung on gallows but on a “Hanging Tree”. Since witches weren’t considered worthy of a proper burial, the bodies were simply tossed down onto a rocky edge or some were merely piled into one big dug out. Bridget Bishop, consistently denying claims of her sorcerous practices, was the first to be executed here. Until this day, the exact location of the Gallows remain unknown. When the trials were put to an end, the city of Salem was embarrassed of its actions. Even judges publicly confessed their guilt and error in the false convictions. Therefore, people who knew of the location wouldn’t acknowledge it. The little evidence of the location we have is from a the book Salem Witchcraft written by Charles Upham in 1867, until this location was later disproved by Sidney Perley. He was able to counter the original location thanks to the story of John Symund’s birth place – where it was mentioned you could see the people hanging from his window. There was also the documentations of Rebecca Nurses hanging, where her youngest son, Benjamin, took a boat down the North River to retrieve her body. It’s clear that official Gallow Hills Park does not follow the historical evidence. As supported by Nurses’ story, there is no body of water close enough for the events to make sense. Also the dirt of the land is too weak and thin to be able to nourish as large vegetation such as trees.

After the trials had been put to an end October 1962, apologies and condolences were sent to the families of the victims for such unnecessary horrific acts.  The various, thought-to-be hanging grounds are now overgrown with shrubs and weeds. It is a place hidden, forgotten, and shunned. An embarrassment and shame of the community. Trying to think on the positive side, the town today embraces it’s spiritual roots. You can take a historical tour with various reenactments of the trials and the beautiful scenic routes lined with Victorian architecture.  Now that diversity has deeply integrated into society, many new-age “witches” actually live in Salem. There is even a tour called “The Salem Witch Walk”, where tourists learn about magic and witchcraft. Looks like Salem is forever left to redeem itself of its past, and it looks like its taking steps in the right direction.

Bibliography:

Boudillion, Daniel V. “Gallows Hill, Salem, Witchcraft.” Gallows Hill, Salem, Witchcraft. N.p., n.d. Web. 06 Nov. 2012. <http://www.boudillion.com/gallowshill/gallowshill.htm>.

Driscoll, Kimberley. “Welcome to Salem, MA.” Welcome to Salem, MA. N.p., n.d. Web. 06 Nov. 2012. <http://www.salem.com/pages/index>.

“Museum.” Museum. N.p., n.d. Web. 06 Nov. 2012. <http://www.witchhouse.info/museum.html>.

“THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT TRIALS: A Biographical Sketch of Tituba.” THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT TRIALS: A Biographical Sketch of Tituba. N.p., n.d. Web. 06 Nov. 2012. <http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/salem/asa_tit.htm>.

South Street Stables

By Lauren O’Brien.

I grew up in the sticks of Auburn, Massachusetts.  Almost every house on the street had a large plot of land and grew an extensive amount of vegetables which they sold to the neighborhood.  Two streets down from my house was a large farm that was part of my daily five-mile walking route.   A few houses down from mine, on the nearby South Street, was a blue house with a horse stable.

I remember that these natural fixtures in the neighborhood were a comfort to me, but walking the street now, the field is visibly overgrown, the white fence broken.  The man who lives in the blue house is named Charlie and uses the space to hold his trucks and scrap the metal from old cars.  He rents the house from my late great grandfather, who once owned three streets on this side of town.  It’s easy to interview him, as he works from home.

I approach him on a Saturday morning when I see him working out in the yard.  The tools he’s running make it impossible to hear, and he doesn’t see me approaching.  To the left of where I stand is a Rottweiler, barking wildly, a sign ‘Beware of Dog’ behind him, as well as a few ‘Private Property’ signs.  I’m not worried about the trespassing as much as I am about Charlie abruptly turning around and attacking me with whatever tool is in his hand.  It’s well known that Charlie is addicted to pain pills and has had some trouble with the law.  He notices me to his right and shuts down the tool, asks me what I need.  I say to him, “Hey Charlie, I have an assignment for class, I just want to ask a few questions about this house and the fields and such.  You know, the horses and Melissa, the previous owner.”

“This house is shit,” he says, “falling apart. I pay too much for it.”  I find the comment to be asinine, as the amount of land that accompanies this house makes it worth much more than he is paying.  I poke and prod about the subject, what the land used to hold, why it was abandoned, who owned it, etc.  Charlie gives me a brief summary.

He tells me that the house belonged to a woman named Melissa, who passed away from lung cancer at age 52.  She hoarded animals, having no less than three cats a time.  “She was stupid,” he said, “every cat she had got killed on this street and she just kept getting them.”  He said that the cats were her obsession but that she had two horses named Dolly and Simmy.  Simmy died young, an accident, and Dolly lived until she was old.  Charlie was close friends with Melissa’s husband, who owned a car garage across the street.  The two divorced young, and he married her sister.  He said she let the fields go after that.

I asked if he would show me around the fields, and he agreed.  The fence has large gaps in it now, to make it more accessible for Charlie’s work.  He told me that the fence always had problems and that the horses used to escape into the road.  “That’s how Simmy died,” he said.  “Your great grandfather tied him to the fence, rope around the neck, to try and keep him out.”  I’m alarmed by the comment.  My great-grandfather owned this street yet told us nothing of its residents or the land.  “He was dumb, sold an entire street of his for 1,000 dollars about twenty years ago.  Flurry family wanted to purchase it, asked him to name a price, and he said, ‘Just give me how much I paid for it,’ which was 1,000 dollars at the time.  Street was easily worth $80,000 now.”

It’s almost impossible to reach the horse stables now, as the path to them isn’t cleared.  They still exist, in a far corner of the plot, part of the roof concaved.  Charlie tells me that the field was never great for walking.  He said that everywhere you’d walk, you’d get burrs stuck to your shoes, or almost step in huge piles of ‘horse shit.’  He told me that Melissa’s grandchildren would try and push each other in it or ‘piss off the horses’ by pulling on their tails.

He told me that it was inevitable that this land die.  Auburn became a town of industry after the ’60s, abandoning our farming roots.  We cared more about Goddard’s rockets than we did about the hundreds of farms that existed in our town.  He pointed across the street to the sewerage company owned by my grandfather.  “You should know better than the rest,” he said; “your grandfather used to be a farmer.”

I think back to the stories my mother told me when I was growing up.  Ones like the day that her family barn burned down, how traumatizing it was to lose such an important piece of history.  When my grandfather lost his farm, my mother would walk to one nearby, harvest vegetables, ward off pests, and earn enough money to go see a movie with her friends later that night.  The farm she used to work on is one of the few that remains intact.  I often wonder if they’d accept the help of a college undergraduate, so that I can somehow connect myself with the experiences of my mother.

I want to bring life back to these farmhouses and stables that were replaced, bulldozed, and talk to the families that had to shift their ways of life.  I walked to another house, across the street from this horse stable, one that belonged to my great grandparents for quite some time.  I remember asking my great grandmother, Rita, what the neighborhood was like, about her neighbors.  She told me that they were “not all there.”  I asked for particulars and she told me that once her neighbor, Tracy, chased her husband around their large backyard, topless and carrying a hatchet.  The area was remote enough that one could ‘get away’ with such a spectacle.

I’m envious of my grandparents for knowing the town when there were only a few notable families.  On my side of town, which has the few leftover farms, everyone is referred to by last name.  “Mahlert came over today,” my grandfather would say, or “Flurry should come by and fix those cabinets.”  The families were tight-knit, the population small.  It took a specific type of family to flourish here.  The thing they had in common was their love of hard work – all farmers, carpenters, mechanics, etc.  My mother would describe a few of them to me, saying, “I remember one of my neighbors, Ian, had a bunch of goats. There was a day he was standing behind one of them, none of us were sure what he was doing, but it didn’t look appropriate.  So we walked close enough to get the whole thing on video, and narrated over it.”  She had another one, about David, whom she described as someone who “was so obsessed with keeping the land pristine that if our lawn was ever overgrown, he would just come over and mow it.  We tried to offer him beer, but he would just grunt at us, tell us he didn’t drink.”

I am fascinated by reconstructing Auburn’s farms and the odd characters that my family and friends describe.  The town has a rich colonial history, one that cherished small family-owned general stores, small soldier graveyards.  The land now has realtor signs all over it, or has already birthed numerous businesses (the majority as car dealerships).  I often tell new friends of mine that I am from Auburn, a farmtown next to Worcester.  The first thing they say to me is, “Oh, exit 10 from the Pike? Your mall looks huge.”  Other times they ask, “Oh, the Auburn Rockets, with the phallic mascot?”  It’s better than our other name, though, ‘E-Town’.  Due to the ‘tough suburban life’ in my town, we had an issue with students selling and taking ecstasy, and all I can think of is that they’re bored, that these problems came as a result of losing our town’s major extracurricular activity.  It’s a shame that we’ve become a sort of joke, and that the older generations have to witness this deterioration.

Websites often list our town’s industries, or Goddard’s rocket launching site, as our notable tourist locations.  In a way, our emphasis on this town icon, the rocket, is as much a removal from our past as our popular shopping mall, car dealerships, and industrial parks.  The rocket itself is emblematic of progress, and once this type of scientific industry began taking over our town, the number of Auburn farms reduced from over 100 in the 1850s to only 4 operating farms in 2012, according to the Auburn Town Guide website.

The website also contains this quote: “While Auburn is struggling to maintain its small town flavor, there has been major business development along the main roads.”  The choice of the word ‘struggling’ highlights the nature of the Auburn resident.  We crafted our homes on history.  We take pictures of the outside of the colonial buildings, forgetting that the inside is a renovated nail parlor.  Unless we focus on interviewing the older residents, the town’s few Republican-party-war-veterans, we come nowhere near the town’s past.  Most residents don’t know that the town was once called Ward and that the name was changed for individuality – that it sounded too similar to Ware.  I often hope that our ability to adapt to a town name change and mascot change from the ‘Dandy’ to the ‘Rocket’ would carry into our ability to cope with this massive industrial takeover.  Except, we ‘struggle’ with it, become residents with large plots of land, overlooking machinery and growing nothing.

Works Cited

 “Welcome to Auburn, MA.” Welcome to Auburn, MA. N.p., n.d. Web. 06 Nov. 2012. <http://www.auburnguide.com/pages/index>.

Ireland’s Forgotten Island, Revisited

By Antonia Moore.

When I was younger, my father, who was very full of Irish pride, would frequently take me aside to show me a favorite photo album of his. I was young and impatient and would squirm, antsy, in his lap as he did so. His trip to Ireland to visit where his parents came from was, not so obvious to me at the time, one of the pinnacle adventures of his life. We would flip through the pictures, taken with a disposable camera, of endless green, my father posing awkwardly next to his small and wrinkled uncle, framed by sheep as far as the eye could see. He would always explain, once we got to his favorite section, “The Blasket Island,” that this was where his mother grew up. I would politely feign interest and wait for him to move on, retaining very little of what he told me. One picture, of my aunt standing in front of a crumbling building, always stuck in my mind because of how silly a sweater she was wearing.

Recently, I was given the opportunity to study abroad in Ireland the summer before my senior year of college. When I had discussed it with my father, he was overjoyed to know I was going to be traveling to where his parents had come from. He went on and on, endlessly listing places and people and how they were all related, throwing me back to a time when he had told me all of this before. His mother lived on the Blasket Island, he would tell me, and his father lived on the main land of County Kerry. Stupidly, I still didn’t pay much attention. I was going to Dublin, the center of the Irish universe! An insignificant island off of the southwest coast was the least of my concerns at the time.

But as the date of departure neared, I started to get nervous. I wanted to take a piece of family with me so that I could make this trip vicariously special for my dad. And then it hit me: the picture of his sister. I asked to see it again.

The photo album was once again ceremoniously brought out and flipped expertly to the correct page. My father explained to me that this was a picture taken in front of his mother’s house on the island. I took it out of the album and asked if I could bring it with me. Avidly, my wish was granted.

I looked closer at the picture in my spare time. My aunt was wearing a huge, obnoxiously colored sweater in front of a cement building with no door, roof, or windows. But she was smiling. I decided I wanted to learn more and recreate this photograph for my father.

I left for Ireland at the end of June, with my picture tucked safely away, leaving home for the first time. I stayed at Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland, but never forgot for the seven weeks I stayed that I had a much more important journey ahead of me.

As the end of the program neared, I realized time was running out. I bought my train and bus tickets, and with a few fellow students in tow, I headed toward County Kerry to pursue the meaning behind the picture.

We arrived and stayed at An Oige (The Youth Hostel). Out of the window of our room, I could see the island, not too far away, blanketed in a teasing fog.

Courtesy: Google Images

 

The next day, I went to The Blasket Centre, a ten minute walk from where we were staying, to meet my cousin, Michael DeMohrda, for the first time.

When I walked in, I was greeted first by an enormous stained glass wall, representing the Blasket Island. The water, hills, and various houses were etched into large colorful pieces, and my cousin was waiting at the front desk for me. He was a middle-aged man with a thick head of dark hair, and was accompanied by a young blonde woman with a pair of headphones and a microphone. Michael approached me, shook my hand, and introduced me to the woman, Louise, who was from BBC Radio. She wanted to interview me for a piece she was producing about the Blasket Island. I was of particular interest because I was visiting where my grandmother came from for the first time. I was not the only one trying to rediscover something forgotten.

We carried through the museum, past plaques, posters, and displayed of island life. I learned the inhabitants were very self-sustaining, as getting to the main land in the flimsy wooden canoes was very dangerous and difficult. They lived, isolated, without running water or electricity for hundreds of years.  Pictures of crumbled rock buildings hung everywhere. Great autobiographers like Peg Seyers and Tomás Ó Criomhthain lived in such houses. From the main window of the museum, facing the island, I was able to look out over the water and see three very small white houses on a hill overlooking the coast. The smallest on the left, my cousin explained to me, was my grandmother’s.

Suddenly I couldn’t wait any longer. My childhood antsyness was once again getting the best of me. I wanted to get to the island to see where this picture was taken. It’s very rare a boat is able to make it to the Blasket because the water is so choppy. A friend in the group had warned me that she had tried to get out to the island in the past, but was denied access for almost four weeks. By some miracle, I got passage to the island right away. As I was rocking back and forth heavily on the boat, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the tiny white house that was getting bigger. This looming and monstrous place had been so vague to me all of these years, and just now was I realizing its importance. When the boat docked, we climbed the rocks to the village. At one time, the island was home to almost 300 people. Now, it was empty. It was abandoned in 1953, when the remaining ten people were evacuated because it was so dangerous to live in a place with such bad weather and few resources. I could only imagine that had become of the crumbling building I saw in the picture. Several other houses remained standing for the most part. The schoolhouse shared a wall with the childhood home of my grandmother, The Kearney house.

Courtesy: Google Images

 

As our tour guide brought us to the other living area of the island, we passed by a large and unmarked grassy area. He explained that this was where anyone who died unbaptized on the island was buried. Sometimes, the weather was so bad that people were unable to get their children to be baptized on the mainland for weeks, who would frequently die. An expert on the lineage of the families here, I was singled out by the guide and informed that two of my grandmother’s siblings were buried in this unmarked grave.

A chill washed over me from the damp winds and the discovery of the darkness in which my grandmother lived, still drawn in the direction of the houses I had seen in the distance. The island was an enormous time capsule and memorial. This feeling was only perpetuated as we passed a rock engraved in Irish, a portion of Tomás Ó Criomhthain’s “The Islandman”. It read, translated:

I have written minutely of much that we did, for it was my wish that somewhere there should be a memorial of it all, and I have done my best to set down the character of the people about me so that some record of us might live after us, for the likes of it will never be seen again.

When I was finally close enough, I made a beeline for my grandmother’s house. It looked very different from the picture. It had been miraculously restored to its full originality from when she had lived there. Someone, very much in the spirit of the Gaelic League (who sought to restore and preserve Irish history and culture), had purchased my grandmother’s house to rebuild and repaint it. It had a second floor reinstalled with a set of stairs, and was given windows and a front door. The only thing that had changed from its original form was the running water and electricity that was installed, and I would not be allowed to go inside. Someone else owned a part of my history now.

I had only one requirement of my adventure of finding the source of this picture: take one of my own. I had intentionally worn clashing clothes in the spirit of my aunt, forcing a green crew neck to mesh with an orange shirt and purple pants. I had learned so much about my grandmother’s way of life, the history of the island, and how it changed since my grandmother left the island once and for all to pursue a better life in Springfield, Massachusetts for the sake of her family. I was able to appreciate much more of the meaning it had meant to my father.

When I returned home, I was able to make a photo album of my own, which I have just as enthusiastically displayed as my father always had. Now, it was my turn to sit him down, and flip to a page where the photograph of my aunt that had stayed with me through all of my travels sits proudly next to a picture of my own. Seeing the pride well up in my father as he gazed on the pictures made me understand how rewarding the time he had spent to show me this island’s importance was.

Courtesy: Antonia Moore and Thomas Moore