FALLS VILLAGE — The two-hour memorial service held in his honor on June 10 was a snapshot of everything that mattered most to John Leo Mahoney, known to all as Jack, who died May 14, 2011, at the age of 73.Of course tears were shed by many in the audience and on the stage of the auditorium at Housatonic Valley Regional High School. But overall, it was a service that, like Mahoney, was fun, funny and filled with references to the Boston Red Sox — including a “seventh-inning stretch” about three quarters of the way through. Everyone in the audience stood up and sang along to “Sweet Caroline,” which has been the official seventh-inning stretch song at every Red Sox game since 2002.Fenway Park would, arguably, be the only other place that Mahoney might have chosen for a memorial service in his honor. But, really, no place was more appropriate than Housatonic Valley Regional High School, to which he had devoted so much of his life. The downstairs of the auditorium, which seats 406 people, was full. The front seats were filled with family, including Mahoney’s mother, Florence.Ed Kirby was the master of ceremonies, taking charge of the stage and proceedings as he had done so many times during the years when he was a top administrator at the school and in the school district, and when Mahoney was (first) an English teacher and (later) the high school’s principal. Kirby was also one of Mahoney’s closest friends and (along with another close friend, Barclay Prindle) a member of the National Outlaw and Lawman’s Association. His commitment to exploring the Wild West, his devotion to tennis, his annual almost mythic visits to the Red Sox training camp in Florida and his joy in other such pleasurable activities were recounted in many of the tales shared by the 14 guest speakers.But much was also said about his extraordinary commitment to the high school (and, especially, its students), the nearby D. M. Hunt Library, the Democratic Party and many other nonprofit and charitable organizations.Each of his four children spoke, sharing stories that were amusing and tender, sometimes choking back tears at memories of the many ways their father supported them, guided them and loved them.“The two words that sum him up are teacher and father,” said Nancy (Mahoney) Soper, the youngest child (known affectionately by her dad as Number Four). “He was always right beside me, with a hand on my back, giving me a gentle nudge.”His colleagues from his years in education spoke reverently of him as a mentor and someone who set an example that they could and still do follow. David Bayersdorfer was an early protege of Mahoney’s and has filled many roles at the school (including a recent stint as interim assistant principal last fall, after he officially retired). He referred to Mahoney as “mentor and tor-mentor” at times because he set a high standard and was unwavering in his expectation that the standard would be met. Grammar and clarity in thinking and writing were areas of particular concern. Several people, including his children, recalled the way he wielded a red pen like a sword, ruthlessly correcting errors in spelling and syntax.Many of the speakers referred to Mahoney’s love of the adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. And, yes, several mentions were made of his devotion to the Red Sox. Mahoney’s companion on his Florida baseball trips was always his cousin, Mike Groom, who shared some of the highlights of their travels. He talked about how thrilled they both were to be able to stay in the same hotel as their baseball-playing idols, and stopped to ask, “Do you remember the last time you were just thrilled?” The biggest thrill of all came when the cousins came upon legendary Sox player Nomar Garciaparra at the hotel: “We instantly turned into two 12-year-olds.”After he received word that Mahoney had died, Groom said he sat down to watch the Yankees and the Red Sox play each other. The Sox won. And they swept their rivals in that series. Groom said he is sure that those victories and similar wins on June 7, 8 and 9 were a tribute to one of the team’s most devoted fans.Fred Baldwin was one of the final speakers, and he reminded audience members that there will be a Jack Mahoney Memorial Tennis Tournament at the high school tennis courts (named in honor of Mahoney and former high school Athletic Director Roland Chinatti) on Saturday, Aug. 27, from 8:30 a.m. to noon. In Mahoney’s memory, everyone will play with everyone and play will rotate every 20 minutes. All proceeds from the tournament and the sale of refreshments at the courts will benefit the 21st Century Fund.The finale to the evening ceremony was the reading of a letter from John Perotti, who is chairman of the 21st Century Fund. The letter explained that Mahoney got the idea for the fund while traveling across America to study “best practices” in education. A California school was using a mix of public and private funding to pay for programs. Mahoney returned to Connecticut to create the 21st Century Fund (with the Berkshire Taconic Community Foundation), which sought private donations for all the seven schools in the Region One School District.At present, the fund is trying to raise $5,000 to finish the new science and technology center in what was formerly the Clarke Wood agricultural education building at Housatonic. Memorial donations in Mahoney’s memory may be sent to 21st Century Fund for HVRHS, 246 Warren Turnpike Road, Falls Village, CT 06031.For information on the tennis tournament, email Cynthia Hochswender at cindyinsharon@gmail.com.
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Dick Hermans in the Oblong Bookstore on Millerton\u2019s Main Street in 1985.
Provided
For Hermans, the award has prompted some reflection about why he has spent so much of his life involved in community projects.
“I was thinking about it this morning: Why do I do what I do?” he said. “And I think no matter what I’ve done, whether it’s been school board or rail trail, I’m trying to be useful to the communities I’m associated with.”
Hermans is perhaps best known as the longtime co-founder and steward of Oblong Books in Millerton, a business that began almost by accident. He and his first wife, Holly Nelson, were living in Millerton and looking for something to do during the winter. They had been painting houses, including the Grange Hall in Millerton, a job Hermans got through his aunt, who belonged to the Grange.
At the time, Hermans was also working in insurance for his father, doing collections.
“It was fine except I was doing collections, and it really kind of left me cold,” he said.
He and Nelson began thinking about what they might do together. Nelson was an avid reader, while Hermans had studied journalism and had worked in a record store. They noticed a chain of book and record stores operating elsewhere in the Hudson Valley and decided to follow that model.
And so Oblong was born.
Dick Hermans in the Oblong Bookstore on Millerton’s Main Street in 1985.Provided
“We really learned it by the seat of our pants,” Hermans said.
The business would eventually become a beloved and integral part of Millerton’s commercial life. But although Hermans may have learned the book business as he went, his affinity for retail — and for the connections that happen across a counter — had begun much earlier.
As a child, his second-grade teacher operated a little cardboard pencil shop in the classroom, and Hermans still remembers the satisfaction of selling a pencil for a nickel.
“I really liked selling somebody a pencil for a nickel,” he recalled. “I can remember that experience, and it was so pleasant.”
Later, while living in Arizona, he helped establish a food co-op and worked at the counter.
“I kind of knew that I liked doing that kind of thing,” he said. “It’s a nice way to be pleasant with people, but without making too much commitment to them.”
His relationship with Millerton also predates Oblong. His grandparents lived in the village, and he first came to Millerton as a baby. Over the years, he has watched the town change through several generations.
He remembers a Millerton with a much broader array of businesses, when stores such as Delson’s, the Main Street department store that stood for nearly 40 years in what is now Millerton’s Antiques Center, seemed to carry almost everything a resident might need.
“You could find everything from a set of dishes to a shotgun,” he recalled.
The rise of shopping malls changed that kind of downtown retail, he said, but Millerton has remained a lively commercial village.
“For us, it’s been a great place to have business,” Hermans said. “It’s a busy village.”
For Hermans, running a store was never simply about selling books and records. It was a way of being part of a place.
Music has remained another constant. Hermans continues to sell music at Oblong and hosts the radio program “New Harmony” on WKZE. The business of selling music has changed dramatically over the years, particularly with the rise of streaming, but Hermans has adapted.
He was initially reluctant to bring vinyl records back into the store because of their expense. But about four or five years ago, he began stocking LPs again, and they have become the main form of music the store sells.
He finds that many of the customers buying them are reconnecting with music they loved years ago.
“I do best with classic albums that people may have had when they were young,” he said. “And now that they’re retired, they want to hear it again.”
Hermans still reviews between 700 and 1,200 new music releases each week through the store’s distributor, Alliance Entertainment, carefully deciding what belongs on Oblong’s shelves.
That same commitment to place has led Hermans into a wide range of community projects. His work with the Harlem Valley Rail Trail is among the efforts he mentions when reflecting on his years of civic involvement. He has also served on the school board and has been involved with the Millerton Business Alliance and the Irondale Schoolhouse. He is now involved with The New Pine Plains Herald, which he sees as complementary to the work of The Millerton News and The Lakeville Journal.
“I really think that the important thing about this award is that people understand what a newspaper does to connect them to their community,” he said. “And if that means anything to their lives, they gotta support it.”
Hermans knew Mary Lou and Robert Estabrook and remembers them as people who were deeply conscious of their responsibilities to the community.
“They were really nice folks,” he said. “They were very conscious of what their role in the community was.”
There is, in fact, still plenty on his plate. Hermans admits he needs to scale back because he has taken on more than his current abilities can comfortably accommodate.
“To be given this award is very special,” he added. “But I don’t feel like I’m done.”
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Adamah Farm crew members planning out the day’s tasks on a late September day.
Janna Siller
Over my 15 years of growing vegetables in Falls Village, I’ve exerted my will over all kinds of conditions, from drought to humidity to crows with a taste for cantaloupe. That’s what farming is all about. You zip around the field, hopping on and off tractors, moving hoses and chasing weeds, all in an effort to arrange conditions in favor of your crops. It is the crops’ job to gulp up sunlight and move water through their stems, to transform solar energy into your next pesto or ratatouille or butternut squash soup. It is the job of the farmer to irrigate just enough but not too much, to slice dandelion leaves without damaging delicate cabbage roots, to pander and pamper and stay in tune with what plants need to thrive.
The easy part of farming is trusting plants’ resilience. I have seen bright green shoots barrel ahead out of a plant torn to shreds by hail. I’ve watched wilty, heat-stressed seedlings turn rigid overnight and greet the next morning with vigor. The hard part is letting go of what you can’t control. As our crops lapped up Friday’s gentle sunshine and I considered the weekend forecast, I imagined roots holding tight to wet earth and branches supporting each other in sideways, pelting rain. I made sure all of our storage crops were already harvested and tucked away. I battened down the sides of our greenhouses and wished the remaining field crops good luck.
The nor’easter didn’t materialize too dramatically in our corner of New England. A few broken branches and debris blown about, nothing like the July Fourth storm that sent half a tree crashing onto the deer fence and left crates of fresh veggies in coolers without power.
Fall storage crop harvests amid soil building cover crops at Adamah Farm in Falls Village. Janna Siller
Farming is an exercise in acceptance. To do it well and return year after year, you have to balance hubris and humility. The prize can often be a certain equanimity, a training in the art of moving into the next day even when the last one scrambled all your plans.
Epic change is not always about the unexpected. It also comes like clockwork on the seasonal calendar. As I type, the last of summer’s watermelons wait naively on the vine for a few hot days to finish ripening. Broccoli are holding their leaves wide as they did in June and July, only to find that the hours of sunlight decrease with each earlier sunset. Plants can’t pick up and go south or call the manager to order a bonus round of sunshine. Their growth slows and they get a resigned look to the hue of their leaves, so different from the frenzied growth of summer.
The release of fall is not tragic or gloomy. It is not an ending because so many fall tasks are about setting up for the new beginnings in spring.
We turn the vines that yielded thousands of pounds of fruit into the soil, where healthy microbes feast on their rotting stems. Then we plant cover crops — a mix of cereal grains like rye and oats and legumes like peas, vetch and clover. Cover crops hold the soil and its nutrients in place over winter, feeding the soil food web and adding organic matter that next season’s crops will need to grow.
We sort sprinklers and repair hoses. We inventory tarps. We take notes about which plants did well where and how we might try a new approach for this or that. We stack crates of cured garlic and onions and winter squash in a cool, dark room.
We save seeds from tomatoes and beans and lettuce, carefully labeling each variety for next season’s long, sunny days.
Janna Siller is the farm director at Adamah, a community farm in Falls Village offering CSA shares, educational programs and a food access program.
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