By Lee David Hamberg
The history of education in Southwick, like most communities in Massachusetts, revolved around the so-called district or one room school-house. Students between the ages of four and eighteen could attend grammar school in their local “district” and learn basic reading, writ-ing, and arithmetic. District schoolhouses were constructed within a neighborhood so that lo-cal children wouldn’t have to walk more than a couple of miles, although the distance could have been more during the first decades of the town. The earliest Southwick record pertaining to education is the following entry in the town meeting records:
Nov. 16. 1775 “Voted to raise fifteen pounds for schooling. Voted to choose a comety to set out the districts of schooling consisting of seven Viz Gide-on Stiles, Silas Fowler, William Moore, Noah Loomis, John Kent, Gideon Root and Deacon Freegrace Norton. (“First Book Town of Southwick, Massachu-setts,” p. 3 [transcript])
At the time, there could not have been a North Longyard district schoolhouse in the vi-cinity of Laro and North Longyard Road, be-cause the town line between Southwick and Westfield was 3,300 feet further south than its current location, putting Laro Road completely in Westfield. That early boundary was pushed south in 1779.
How many districts were set out and where they were located is not recorded. It should also be understood, that town records are missing between November 1770 and early March 1775, because the first pages of the book were used as a scrap book in the early 1800’s by a youth, be-fore it was discovered and the volume returned to the town clerk. By the 1780’s there were prob-ably five or more school districts established.
First North Longyard Schoolhouse
It is very likely that the first schoolhouse in North Longyard was constructed no later than the early 1800’s. The earliest references though are on the published 1854 and 1855 maps of Hampden County, which clearly show a school-house in the V between Laro Road or “the Old road to Westfield,” and North Longyard Road (north of that point) referred to as “the New Road to Westfield.” Precisely when the school-house was built, how many years it was used, and whether it was of wood or brick construc-tion are not recorded. We know that the earliest schoolhouses in South Longyard and Southwick Center were of brick, but they survived into the 1880’s.
In 1855 a “Union District” was created be-tween Westfield School District No. 15 and Southwick School District No. 8 (North Long-yard). The joint committee obviously felt that the existing building was either in very poor shape or lacked capacity. The committee voted to “dis-pose of the old school to best advantage.”(This information is from the manuscripts of the School Union quoted by Maud Davis, pp. 178-179). In separate deeds, both the Union school committee and Joseph M. Forward each sold the property to Lemuel Easton for $1 [Hamp-den County Registry of Deeds, Book 185 pp. 106 & 107].
Second North Longyard Schoolhouse
In 1855 they purchased a 48 to 49 foot [east-west] deep by 69 feet [north south] wide “...site of land from Lemuel Easton on the knoll so called, south of the brook...” on the west side of North Longyard Road near Laro Road. Sad-ly, the deed to the new parcel was never duly recorded in the Hampden County Registry of Deeds. Several mortgages to the surrounding property in 1857 and 1861 (Bk. 189 p. 93 & Bk. 215 p. 475) mention the “...land taken for School House...” Based on a December 20, 1855 receipt, this new or second schoolhouse cost $273.00 to build. The contractor was a Spencer T. Smith (See Maud Davis).
For the next 31 years the school fulfilled its mission for providing space to educate area chil-dren. It’s fairly obvious though, that the build-ing was never adequately maintained. Even when it was new, the committee voted not to paint it. By 1885 the Union District was appar-ently no longer functioning, and the Southwick School Committee was considering replacing the decrepit building. In the published South-wick Annual Reports...ending March 20, 1886 one finds the following entries in the Treasur-er’s report:
[Cash received]
“ “ E. C. Dibble, school-house property
District No. 8, 15.00
“ “ David Judd, school-house property,
District No. 8, 4.05
Emerson C. Dibble paid $15 for the old build-ing. The entry for David Judd may have been a typographical error, referring to a different property, or he may have purchased some of the fixtures that were not going to be reused. The land reverted to the previous owner, who had died, so the heirs of Lemuel Easton sold the land to Emerson C. Dibble in a separate deed recorded in 1886 (Bk. 428, p. 511). Dibble now owned the former schoolhouse site, the adja-cent land, and the schoolhouse itself. The emp-ty schoolhouse is shown on the 1894 and 1912 L. J. Richards Map of Southwick, as well as an unpublished County Commissioners map, ca. 1925, in the Southwick Historical Society col-lections. Maud Gillett Davis clarifies what hap-pened to this second North Longyard school-house within her memory, “Then Emerson C. Dibble bought it and for many years it was used for storing farm machinery and tools and an old surrey and old sleigh. It fell down eventu-ally.” [p. 179, Historical Facts and Stories About Southwick]
Third North Longyard Schoolhouse
By May of 1885, the school committee and selectmen had decided to construct four new schoolhouses, rather than rebuild existing ones. During the town meeting of May 5 of that year it was voted to “take up and vote” on each loca-tion separately. It’s obvious that there was heat-ed debate as to whether the replacement school should be built on the same site as the second North Longyard Schoolhouse or on another site, and if the latter, where it should be located. Five votes were taken that day about the location. Another town meeting was called for June 2 at 2 o’clock, during which time another six motions, going back and forth, resulted in finally select-ing a new location on one of three lots, with only $25 appropriated for the land. The “locating com[mittee].” selected a portion of the Charles Newton lot at #36 North Longyard Road, and the third and final North Longyard school-house was duly constructed by Edwin Gilbert of Southwick. The parcel cost $50. It was used until May 1929, when Consolidated School was opened and all of the one-room schoolhouses were closed. In 1930 the vacant schoolhouse and lot were sold to Carl R. Johnson, a descendant of Newton, and subsequently converted into a residence. Today (2025) it is still used as a home and is owned by the John and Barbara Wescott family.
By Clifton (Jerry) Noble. Sr.
Sept. 1, Friday. Wife Eliza-beth got an appointment with Dr. Pallo who found an in-fected hair follicle causing ear-ache. She took baby with her in Dodge and he cried the whole time.
Sept. 2, Saturday I took junk to Russell dump, paid electric bill in Huntington and got grocer-ies in Russell; At home I ironed clothes, washed car, and filled reservoir behind the wellhouse from pump in brook.
Gerry Spencer and Ernest Carron stopped by with my cement mixer in Carron’s truck. They had got it from Mr. Gage for Carron to borrow next. I’m glad my house foundation is complete because the mixer was never returned.
Sept. 3 Sunday. I picked up my mother from Sarah Gillett Home so she could visit Marion Shaw and cousin Mildred Moore on New State Road while I played organ for Montgomery Church. Irene Knott put my hymn selections in the program. Rev Frank Dilly conducted the ser-vice. Afterwards he asked if I taught music. Sun-day afternoon Aunt Georgie Emerson, daughter Mabel Johnson and grandchildren Eddy and Judy arrived. Cousin Lester is fishing with Uncle Ralph in Canada.
Sept 4, Monday, Labor Day. I shook rugs, dusted, vacuumed living room, and brought Hester (my mother) up from Westfield. I took her back through Blandford. Elizabeth started her old complaint about being imposed on by my mother, friends and family. I was too tired for complaints so made pointed remarks, and even got mad enough to break something. Chest ache persists despite quite a lot of rest.
Sept. 5, Tuesday. Surveying on Agawam’s Mill Street, we found weeds full of pollen and bugs. Even house flies bit.
Uncle Henry and Aunt Hannah Goodyear bought a new Rambler for mother Atwater. She brought them up to visit us along with vegeta-bles from their summer home in Maine Uncle Henry walked to brook with me while I started reservoir pump.
Sept. 9, Saturday. After typing requests for mileage payment from Public Works I did wash-ing in Russell and mowed lawn. Uncle Ralph came and wheeled baby in carriage while we had dinner Then he sat in lawn chair with baby laughing and smiling on his chest.
Sept. 10, Sunday. Baby (born 4-21-61) weighs 15 pounds 1 ounce.
Sept. 11, Monday. I worked in swim trunks because of heat in the Agawam borrow pit and ran the rod so rodmen wouldn’t get overcome. My transitman took the notes. At home I cooled off in the brook. It had been too hot to eat lunch so E’s tuna fish salad tasted good. Scales give my weight as 135 pounds
Sept 13, Wednesday. At Sarah Gillett Home Matron Peterson brought the electric fan from the parlor upstairs to my mother. The other old ladies fear drafts and won’t use it.
September 14, Thursday. About 8:30 p.m. George Berry phoned to say that the Bos-ton office has been asking District En-gineer, Hugh Corr, why I haven’t been appointed Assis-tant Survey Super-visor. I said I would accept the position.
Sept. 15, Friday. A notice (mailed 9/13) of requisition for 44 Senior Civil Engineers was in my post office box. Reply was requested by Sept. 14. At 9:10 a.m. from the field office trailer I phoned the Boston office to accept. A girl in McInne’s office said there had been a mail delay on their end.
Sept. 16, Saturday. I ironed clothes, vacu-umed, raked and burned butternut leaves, and. cracked a couple dozen butternuts to eat.
After feeding baby at 6:15 a.m. and getting him over hiccups he went to sleep again.
Sept. 18, Monday. Mamie cat was on doorstep at 5:15 a.m., but Fluffy yowled from up beyond wellhouse. I got flashlight and went to find him. He couldn’t move his back legs. I carried him to basket in garage where he yowled in pain. I got him to Dr Boardman.. E and baby met me and we cried. We found fallen log in woodpile which must have hit Fluffy. He died September 22
Sept. 21, Thursday. Hurricane Ester caused State Public Works to declare “skeleton force” by 11:30 a.m. so surveyors went home. Papers con-firming my permanent Senior Civil Engineer appointment had to be completed, signed, and returned by registered mail.
Sept. 22, Friday. Vincenzo Penna appeared at 11:30 a.m. to say he was going to work with us next week. He hadn’t learned that I was going to be on vacation
Sept 23, Saturday. Uncle Ralph ate lunch with us, then went hiking. I tried to rest from noon till three. Baby fussed so brought him on bed with me and he was quiet.
Sept. 24, Sunday. Registered mail receipt for my Grade V papers was in P.O. box 393, also a get well card from Marion Shaw to Mr. F. C. No-ble. Sorry! Too late for Fluffy.
Sept. 25 Monday. I left $2 at 99 Court Street for Uncle Sam’s birthday and brought home No-ble Genealogy and albums stored there when mother and I went to California.. In morning I got a play pen from Sears and set it up in living room. Baby enjoyed ride over Norwich Hill.
Sept. 26, Tues. At Westfield Ford Lester Moore soldered car radiator and changed hoses.
Sept. 27, Wed. Marion and Mildred are pack-ing to leave for home near Boston. I put away their porch furniture and TV in car. The ham E cooked for all of us was fine. Hester held baby and looked at scrap books before I took her back to Westfield.
Sept. 29, Friday. When I did our laundry the District One Supervisor was waiting in car S89 in the Glen parking lot for the party, working on Carrington Road, to turn in their time sheets. I walked down to see where they had put survey station nails. Got home just as Pero’s truck deliv-ered our new water heater.
Sept. 30, Saturday. Hester and I delivered decorated paper to Miss Drapeau in Wyben and came down Mt. Shatterack to dinner. I had three pieces of pie. Started wash in Russell while I took H (mother) to Sarah Gillett Home.
Before leaving the month Fluffy died there are things about him that should be remem-bered. He was a beautiful (and probably valu-able) long haired, black and white cat. He came in a snowstorm from the house across the road where they had other cats and a collie dog. Once, at first, I carried him home and put him down on the kitchen floor. When Mrs. came into the room he hissed at her. Later I learned she had thrown him down the cellar stairs. I never took him back again.
Once, after being missing several days, my mother found him injured beside Herrick Road. We brought him in and tried to feed him. He hid behind the living room sofa. In the morning I expected to find him dead. Instead he made a rattling noise. Listening I realized he was trying to purr and was soon back to normal.
Feeling lonely before I was married, I climbed several hundred feet up the hill behind the house and threw myself face-down on the moss. Suddenly I felt something licking my hair. Fluffy had followed me all that distance and was trying to find out what was the matter.
After Jerry Jr. arrived and we left him out on lawn in carriage, Fluffy would lie under the car-riage. If stray dogs came, he would chase them out of the yard.
Once again September 11th and its memories come around. We remember what we were doing and where we were twenty-four years ago that tragic day in our country’s history. The feel of that early morning late summer day was pleasant.The sky was so blue, and the marigolds were blooming in the yard.
I was on my way to a doctor’s appointment, listening to music on the radio. The announcer’s voice broke in to say that a plane had struck one of the Twin Towers in New York City. At first, I, like others, thought it was a terrible accident. When the second plane hit, and when we learned of the attack on the Pentagon and the plane crash in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, it became clear that these were targeted attacks of terrorism against the United States.
That day and the following days our country came together as we united against the enemy. We prayed, we searched for survivors, we donated money, food, water, our time and energy, as well as other resources. Citizens signed up for military duty to fight the enemy. We truly were the United States of America.
So today, let us hold close in thought all who lost their lives, their families, and all who still suffer from the effects of that day. Let us take that spirit of togetherness to work for the benefit of our country. Let us truly be the United States of America.
By Bernadette Gentry
1961
September 2014
Above: Baby Jerry
Elizabeth with Fluffy cat in doorway.
1855 Map of Hampden County showing the location of the first N. Longyard Schoolhouse.
Above: 1870 Map showing the location of the second schoolhouse
Right: 1894 Map showing the location of the third schoolhouse much further south then either two schools before it.
Below: Exterior of the third schoolhouse from “Southwick Revisited” by Lee David Hamberg
Early North Longyard
School Houses
Third N. Longyard Schoolhouse photo from “Around Southwick” by the Southwick Historical Society
10-5
By Michael Dubilo
Three years ago, I penned an article, “New London Italian Style.” Today, August 2025, with Frances Ann Daly, and wife Susanna, we trav-eled back to the Connecticut shore area. We were joined by Italian family members at a spa-cious beach house, owned by the spirited and generous 75-year-old, Donna Vendetto. This old-time structure is located 500 yards away from the popular, calm waters of Ocean Beach.
Arrival time awas 4 p.m. on Sunday. Twenty-one Italians and one Polish man. Hugs galore and sampling snacks gave way to preludes of joy for the main course. Donna, a fantastic cook, prepares with taste and efficiency. Located be-low a wood-beamed ceiling, was a large table measuring fifteen feet by six feet filled with hand-prepared meatballs with dashes of extra virgin olive oil, pasta, and farm-fresh salads. Water, Zuccardy wine, and beer accompanied. Around the table, a tapestry of wisdom was woven from the tongues of seasoned men and women, each word a thread of insight spun from the looms of their extraordinary lives. There was lots to learn from real historians.
Exchanging words on Italian history was of keen interest and I sat back, gaining insight from adult family members, especially John Zucca-rdy, representing the Zuccardy wine name. The talkative gathering enjoyed 76 degrees with low dew points awash with sunshine, listening, and relaxing on an Ipe decking porch. Ipe is a Brazil-ian super-hardwood that’s both attractive and decay-resistant. The same wood was chosen to construct the entire boardwalk at Ocean Beach, which is hundreds of yards long.
Susanna and I walked to the beach using sea-son passes with Italian logos. Looking out on the ocean, we saw two ferry boats filled with pas-sengers enjoying moments of visual delights. One day, we and Fran boarded the “Jewel of the Sea” ferry. It was one and a half hours of boating delight, floating along with easy rock-ing motions, much like a baby being rocked to sleep. Arriving at Block Island, Rhode Island, we met up with Susanna’s son, Jesse. He’s a blessed individual who owns a former bed and breakfast home close to the shore-line. It was a gra-cious experience for his proud mom, Su-sanna. A good son, Jesse is. It’s obvious he inherited Su-sanna’s intelligence, good looks, and mature, positive attitude. The last day arrived, engaging us in the natural environment of New London, Connecticut.
I love to learn, so allow me to share some spo-ken truths with you all: “Every time you lose a generation, you lose a library.” Think of all the knowledge the younger generation may be missing out on—experience illustrated by vast mistakes and right thinking. We learn by ex-perience. Grandpas and grandmas are loaded with real-life stories. Does the younger gener-ation want to listen? You tell me. What I wit-nessed at the reunion meal was peaceful, posi-tive interactions around a “decked-out” table. Twenty-two adults engaged in conversation. Everyone was happy and involved. Fran, a full-blooded, super-active Italian at 81 years of life, shared this daily activity within her family: All family members gathered around a large table, eager to taste a skillfully prepared Italian meal. The rule was to talk to others while eating. Dad, Mom, sons, and daughters were expected to engage in talk. Even the little baby is involved with baby talk.
So let us, together, make time to engage in face-to-face relationships. We all love to see the expressions on the ones we love when giv-ing and sharing. We can learn many useful les-sons from various cultures. Some, if not most, families are not blessed with the Italian group I wrote about. I happen to be in that category. Al-ways keep in mind you were uniquely created, made for a higher purpose. We all are given at least one gift. Be yourself, the man or woman you were created for. Successes will flow when you employ your own “Style.” Stay above the waves and smile.
Since my complexion picks up the color I’m wearing, I avoid ..wearing chartreuse or grey. Admittedly, I didn’t immediately accept the color grey that was chosen for our church greeters’ team shirts. But, because it was the right thing to do, I chose to stop complaining and just wear it with a smile! With that in mind, I wasn’t expecting to hear Mom’s words when I slipped on my new official grey shirt this morning. As I looked in the mirror, Mom’s description of some unfortunate woman during my youth came across my mind. “She looks like death warmed over.” I hadn’t thought of that crazy line for about sixty years, but those words kind of fit. Thankfully, a little pink lipstick brought me back to life! I chuckled while thinking of other expressions that came from the mouths of my parents. Their memorable words tumbled through my mind and accompanied me all the way to church.
As a small child, I loved assisting my dad with his Saturday projects. He would say, “Go get my vise-grips and run like a bunny!” (In other words, don’t stop to pat the dog or say “hi” to the chick-ens. Just be back in a flash!) When I was older, after siding the barn, painting the house or some small-er project we did together, he would smile at me and say, “You do good work! Cheap too!” Then we would have a good laugh. “A place for everything and everything in its place.” “Plan your work and work your plan.” “Many hands make light work.” “Just roll with the punches.” These were some of Dad’s common declarations.
Mom would often say: “More confusing than amusing,” “Let’s get the show on the road,” or “Oh, goody!” “Oh, goody!” loudly proclaimed Mom’s delight. “Oh, goody, we came out even,” was a classic Mom expression. In other words, ev-erybody had their fill of meatloaf, mashed pota-toes, brownies or whatever and there wasn’t any-thing leftover! One Sunday morning, Mom picked up the neighborhood kids, and we headed off to church where she taught Sunday School. Roads were icy, so when we hit the corner on Granville Road at the end of Hillside, our big old car slid down the curve sideways, in slow motion. Mom called out, “Oh, Goody! I won’t have to cook for Uncle Ed!” Uncle Ed was a crass, complaining brother of my dad. His wife didn’t cook on Sun-days so he brought his family and sometimes even his three kids’ friends to our house every single Sunday to enjoy my mom’s delicious cooking. Mom still laughed years later, that the thought of dying in a car crash was preferable to cooking one more meal for grumpy Uncle Ed.
My Polish grandmother came to America in her teens and subsistence farmed while raising nine children. She spoke very few words in Eng-lish, but those few we understood. “Spill the milk” meant to pour the milk. We six cousins would be having the time of our life, eating our dinner of warm chicken broth with cold boiled potatoes and laughing our heads off in childish silliness. Hovering around the table, Babcia would tolerate just so much of our joy and laughter. Hearing her threat, “I give you!” would seem like an incom-plete thought, but seeing her coming out of the pantry wielding a yardstick spoke volumes. All of us would jump up from our chairs and run as fast as our legs would carry us out the door, hoping not to be the last one out.
My daughter’s memories of her grandmoth-er’s famous lines were quite different from mine. When Grama Irene thought something was high class it was “Just like New York.” Not expecting an answer, she would shake her head and ask, “What will they think of next?” Or she’d smile, pause and slowly say, “How do you like that?” Her grand-children loved it when she would sing song her way through “I scream! You scream! We all scream for ice cream!” She and Grampa Ray would pick up our kids for sleepovers and say, “Your wish is my command.” They knew they were going to the dollar store and McDonalds and maybe even watch some heavy equipment working at a job site in Enfield!
Sometimes words are simply created and they stick. Back in college, I recall two words which began as an innocent question. Our group of girls was heading out of the dining hall when one of us referred to a sign on the wall. “What is ‘chick’ and ‘swaevy’?” The rest of us read the fashion show poster aloud. When we read “chic” and “suave” we all laughed and from then on, dressing up was considered looking very “chick and swaevy” by the girls in our group. They became part of our vocabulary for the four years of our college days together and they still make me smile.
These words and expressions created a bond with the people who spoke them into my life. It amazes me how these simple words and phrases can take me back to another era in my past and swell my heart in gratitude for the goodness of life and for those who poured their love into me. Men-tally wandering around in the past today has me humming that great old song, “Words,” by the Bee Gees... “It’s only words and words are all I have...”
By Debbie Patryn
My father -in-law, Alec Patryn, was a master carpenter even though he never took a carpentry class. He had built his own home in Dalton, Massachusetts back in the 1950’s and then a playhouse for his youngest daughter in the 1960’s.
When my daughters, Julie and Amy, were born in the 1980’s he decided to build them a special playhouse for our backyard.
This was no ordinary plastic play house like you see today. It was constructed all from wood with a ten foot peaked roof, two windows on the sides that opened, a double wide front door and even a front porch with white railings. It looked like a miniature Swiss Chalet.
Alec did not follow plans to build it, he thought it all out himself.
Inside it was tall enough for adults to stand in although they had to duck through the door. He built shelves on the back wall and bought a child size refrigerator and stove for it. Also inside was a table and chair set that had been mine as a child.
He built the playhouse in his backyard in Dalton, Massachusetts and had to load it on a trailer to tow it to our house in Feeding Hills about fifty miles away. Then he traveled with my mother-in-law, Gloria, in the middle of the night to avoid traffic or curious police officers.
My girls were thrilled when they woke up and saw a playhouse in their backyard. They were even more surprised to find out Grandma had slept inside on the floor. After it was situat-ed the roof needed to be shingled and a painted wooden chimney attached to the roof.
All the neighborhood kids loved coming to our yard to play in the playhouse. A favorite ac-tivity was to play McDonald’s drive through us-ing the windows on the side that opened. At the time McDonalds was giving plastic miniature food items like hamburgers and French fries in their Happy Meals so having a drive through seemed more realistic. It was well-loved for many years until we moved to Southwick, Mas-sachusetts and sadly had to leave it behind. The girls had outgrown it by then but were still sad to say good-bye.
For many years we would look for the play-house when we drove by our old house. Then one day it was no longer there and we didn’t know what happened to it. That is until one day while driving to Connecticut I spotted the house in someone else’s backyard. It knew it was my girl’s playhouse that had found a new home and new children to love it.
A tradition continues for a playhouse made with Grandpa’s love.
God is Not
Against Me
A little girl was just learning to swim under-water, and she wanted to show her brothers that she could cross the pool in one breath.
But she had never done it before. So, her dad said, “All right, babe. We can do this. Just re-member, the lizard brain is going to be telling you that you can’t do it. But the lizard is lying.”
She said, “Wait. There’s a … lizard … in my brain?”
Dad said, “No, baby. It’s just that the hu-man brain …” He went on to try to explain to a 7-year-old about the survival part of our brain, the fight-or-flight part that kicks in when we are in an emergency. He said, “Some people call that the lizard brain.”
That little girl went underwater, swam clear to the other end, and came up gasping. The first thing she said was, “Man, that lizard is loud!”
Dad said, “What did you say back to him?”
She said, “I told him, Shut up, lizard! I’m do-ing this.”
How about you? Are there areas of your life where you’ve been listening to the lizard? Sometimes you have to say in your mind: “Shut up, lizard! Shut up, fear! Shut up, insecurity! Shut up, worry! I’m doing this. I’m moving for-ward and you can’t stop me.”
So how do you overcome these thoughts of fear and failure? How do you keep your mind from spinning out of control? How do you keep from obsessing over what could go wrong and jumping to the worst-case scenario?
First, you recognize the lizard for what it is: your fight-or-flight instinct spiraling out of con-trol. Second, you give your mind something healthy to hold on to. Try this. Try saying this to yourself:
God is not against me,
but He’s in it with me,
working through me,
fighting for me.
The story of Gideon in the Bible is a good ex-ample of a lizard-level reaction. When the story opens, Gideon is hiding from the Midianites, an enemy nation who had been oppressing Israel for years. He was hiding out, in survival mode, in fight-or-flight mode.
Suddenly, an angel appears, and says, “The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.” “Mighty Warrior.” Not bad. I’d like you to call me that! But he was in survival mode, so he ignored the compliment and brought up a complaint: “If the Lord is with us, why has all this happened to us?”
Don’t you feel like that sometimes? If the Lord is with me, then how come my bills are piling up? How come I have all these health issues? How come my boss is riding me all the time? Gideon is thinking: The Lord can’t possi-bly be with me because I’m having such a hard time.
The angel said, “You’re looking at this all wrong! Go in the strength you have and save Isreal out of Midian’s hand. Am I not sending you?” He was saying, “You’re stronger than you think you are! Go in the strength you have!”
He is saying that to you today! “You are stronger than you think! You can handle more than you think you can! You can cope with more than you think you can! Go in the strength you have!”
But Gideon pushed back again. “But how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.” Can you hear the echoes of a lizard in there? Can you hear the fear? The anxiety?
Gideon went on to be one of the greatest military leaders of all time – because there was nothing wrong with him that he couldn’t work through. Let me tell you something I believe with all my heart:
There is nothing wrong with you
that can’t be worked through.
A teenager was having a tough time at school. His dad put a hand on his shoulder, looked into his eyes, and said, “There’s nothing wrong with you that can’t be worked through. I just wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”
His son asked what he meant. And he said, “I see you through eyes of love.”
All of a sudden, something clicked in that teenager. He thought to himself, If Dad sees me through eyes of love, and if God sees me through eyes of love, shouldn’t I see myself through eyes of love?
We often look at ourselves through the eyes of limitation, through the eyes of intimidation, through the eyes of condemnation.
It’s time to see yourself
through the eyes of love.
Haters gonna hate. Critics gonna criticize. And lizards gonna lie. That’s what they do. But you don’t have to listen to them.
Let me be crystal clear: God looks at you through the eyes of love. He’s got your back. You may be in one of those tense moments and your mind is starting to spin out of control. You may be in the Emergency Room. You may be walking into a make-or-break sales presenta-tion. You may be at school sitting down to take your final exam. God’s got your back.
And be sure of this… God is not against you. He’s in it with you, working through you, fight-ing for you. He’s up to something in the un-seen. He’s up to something in the unexpected. He’s up to something in the shadows.
He’s up to something
when you’re down to nothing.
You can count on that. It might not happen in the next 20 minutes. It might not happen in the next 20 days. The timeframe is God’s business. But if you take the step, you’re going to see the miracle. And God will give you the strength for every step. Don’t turn back now!
By Tonie Ann White
The
Playhouse
Southwick Lions Club
Chicken and Pasta Dinner
October 18th Westfield, MA — The Southwick Lions Club will be hosting a chicken and pasta dinner on Saturday October 18th at the Southwick American Legion Post 338 Hall, 46 Powder Mill Road from 5-7pm. Cocktail Hour is from 5-6pm and dinner will be served at 6pm. Dinner will include Chicken Pasta with herb butter sauce, salad, bread, and dessert. Tickets are $15 each and can be purchased at the door or from a lions club member ahead of time. Proceeds will be returned back to the community in-kind through programs in need and scholarships.
Southwick American Legion Post 338
Spaghetti Dinner
September 17th: Southwick, MA — Join the Southwick American Legion Post 338 Wednesday September 17 5:00pm – 6:30pm for a spaghetti dinner. Veteran’s $7.00 & Guest’s $10.00. Dinner includes salad, spaghetti & meatballs, dessert and drink Proceeds will benefit the Southwick Senior Center
Stanley Park
Run Stanley 5k Run/Walk
October 5th: Westfield − Come Run, Stroll & Roll! Stanley Park will be hosting the 13th Annual Run Stanley, a fun yearly tradition for the whole family, whether they run, walk, roll, or bark. Join us for this all-inclusive event on Sunday, October 5, 2025 at 10:00 am at Stanley Park. This event includes the 5K trail run/walk, a 5K K9 trail run/walk, the Munchkin Run hosted by Dunkin’ Donuts, and The Stroll & Roll. The Stroll & Roll is a wheel friendly 1-mile non-competitive walk through Stanley Park’s accessible pathways.
There is also the Stanley Cup School Spirit trophy for the school with the most participation in Run Stanley. Form a team and get friends and family involved. When you register, be sure to enter your school name!
Run Stanley 2025 continues our fundraising efforts to benefit the care of the Frank Stanley Beveridge Wildlife Sanctuary. Please join the community of runners, walkers, hikers, dog owners, and nature lovers of all ages who care about Stanley Park for a fun event that will help to improve the safety and accessibility of its wildlife trails.
Registration is now open! You can register by going to https://runsignup.com/Race/MA/Westfield/RunStanley or by scanning the QR code.
Southwick Historical Society
“Dragoon, Musketeer, Prisoner”
Sept. 25: Southwick - The Hessians of the revolutionary war in western massachusetts. The southwick historical society inc. Invites all to join us for a pie social after some delicious pies donated by businesses and society members. Stay and learn from Dennis Picard about the Hessian prisoners of war that were brought to western massachusetts. Particularly after key battles like Bennington and Saratoga. Some prisoners of war chose to remain in America after the war. Event will be held at Meeting house hall 222 college highway, southwick September 25, 2025. Pie social 6:00pm, business meeting 6:30pm, presentation 7:00pm. Free and open to the public
Salmon Brook Historical Society
Fall Flea Market
September 20th: Westfield, MA — October 18 - 9 am to 4 pm. 208 Salmon Brook Street. Contact Dave Laun at 860-653-3965 for vendor information. Flea market donations to the Society are welcome any Tuesday or Thursday between 9 am and noon through October 14..
Our Lady of the Lake
Theatre Show
“I Love the 80’s to Death”
October 11: Southwick, MA − Knight of Columbus Council 11178 at Our Lady of the Lake Parish in Southwick is presenting a dinner theater show “I Love the 80s to Death” October 11 from 5pm to 8pm. FMI: Call/text 413-569-8440 or dinnertheatre@kofc11178.org
Westfield High School
Class of 1971 Reunion
September 18th: Westfield, MA — The class of 1971 is having a reunion on Saturday Sept. 20th, 2025 at the Italian Club on 57 Katherine Street. A group of classmates have been gathering yearly at this location. It will take place from 1-5pm. St Mary’s and Westfield Voke are invited to attend. Call Carolyn at 786-5845 for more info or email c.cortis@comcast.net
Agawam High School
Class of 1975 Reunion
October 4th: Agawam, MA — Agawam High School’s Class of ‘75 is holding their 50th class reunion on Saturday, October 4, 2025 from 3pm to 10pm at the Polish American Club in Feeding Hills. Over 100 classmates are expected to attend. Details are posted on the class’ Facebook page: “Agawam Class of 75 Reunion”. If you are on Facebook join that page by clicking “follow”. If you are not on social media, and want to attend, email “ConnieBeaudette@yahoo.com” and information will be sent to you.
By Todd Shiveley
One could say the first true history of this cave is reserved to Cortland Field Bishop, a cave spelunker and explorer. Having heard of the property on his own time from Lazell Baker’s farm, of the notorious claim to a cave of possi-ble wealth and history and strange bats, he took upon himself a trip to explore the depths of this deep cavern approximately around 1918. He was also following the previous first explorer, George A. Curtis—a member of the State High-way Commission. He re-found the truth behind the legends of towns folk rumors of British de-serter Tories, within these “Bunkers’ of natural stone beds. Ironically, since his new discover-ies, “New Ashford residents have been digging up old legends and tales and visions to become a new Mecca for the many automobile tourists in the Berkshires”. Yet, after his discovery, he renamed it “Red Bat Cave” after the odd bats with furry red furry heads.
Seven years later in 1925, and a change of ownership, two partners took charge of this cave and property—William J. Merron & a Mr. Mecure, who in their own discoveries found an old wooden box filled with colonial coins oddly from countries such as Russia, France and Germany during the years 1704–1708 and other evidence to show that it had been a hide out for the Tories dur-ing the American Revolution. Hence, they got to work to bring electricity to the caves, as well as stairs and a place to display their coins. Upon the ground level, and entrance to the cave, for a future gas station and refreshment stand, with a tea house, food and picnic tables and even camping space, they were ready for the future of roadside tourism oddity attractions and one could say, picking up where circuses left off.
Over the next 40 years, into the ’60s with the nation changing and transportation grow-ing, the gas station “Red Bat Cave” died out and transformed into a tavern and Road House mostly for college students of next door Wil-liamstown. And although it was still open to spelunkers and explorers to the caves and see the bats of renown, by the mid 1980s, its time had passed and it closed and fell into disrepair and abandonment.
Alas, 20 plus years later, on October 3rd, 2003, in my second trip to the Berkshires in finding the historical glacier erratic of Lanesborough and speaking to a local library, I saw to my excite-ment on the map; they showed me a spot titled “Bakers Cave”. After some instructions, I made my way toward 3 Smith Road. Yet all I found were some woods, so I parked my car and not 20 feet in I came across the cave entrance with two old steel barrels kind of blocking it off. With no rope to descend, I figured maybe leave it to a future date, but then a few feet away I came across the old steel rusty sign “Red Bat Cave” and snapped my own picture.
While with sad dismay last year, having re-turned to the location and even the house that was later rebuilt over or from the ruins of the tavern itself, was once again rebuilt and the backyard greatly trimmed of trees and thickets. With no cars parked of people and new owners to speak to, I had to bid a farewell and be thank-ful for the chance to have even caught the sign over 20 years previous. Even one small article jokingly remarks that if the bats even still live there, they too probably have lost their redheads that have turned to grey. Another post card era site, that even I got to see before it was com-pletely torn asunder and rebuilt. At least, I can send a copy of my photo to the historical section of the Pittsfield library and archives in honor of New Ashford’s famous “Red Bat Cave”, to say I at least left my mark to its history.
Legend
of Red Bat Cave
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