AMESVILLE — Last week’s closing of the Great Falls recreation areas had little effect as people simply ignored signs and barriers on Sunday, July 12.
The Housatonic River at the Great Falls is between the Amesville section of Salisbury on one side and the town of Canaan (Falls Village) on the other.
The water below the falls moves very quickly, with cross currents and with plenty of rocks and hollows under the surface of the water that create suction and whirlpools. In recent years, there has been at least one drowning death every year or two in the river here or in Kent near Bull’s Bridge.
On a normal summer day, the falls in both towns attract dozens of people to the shores of the Housatonic River seeking to escape city heat by swimming and having picnic meals by the side of the river. Trash and noise and unsafe parking have been significant problems in Salisbury, Falls Village and Kent, to the point where Kent has taken extreme measures to close off access points to the river.
The water on its own is dangerous. The Housatonic at the Great Falls is a Class 3 rapids; according to www.paddling.com, Class 3 indicates “numerous high and irregular waves; rocks and eddies with passages clear but narrow and requiring experience to run. Visual inspection required if rapids are unknown. Open canoes without flotation bags will have difficulty.
“These rapids are best left to canoeists with expert skills.”
Adding to the complexity of the water there is the presence of the First Light hydropower dam. Sometimes the power company “diverts” water from the river to generate power; at those times, the water level is low and the large rocks are exposed. But when the water is no longer diverted, as was the case the last two weekends, the river reverts to its fast-flowing Class 3 state.
This year, with much of Kent closed off and with the COVID-19 quarantine forcing people to seek social activities out of doors, the Great Falls in Salisbury/Falls Village has seen extraordinary use, problematic amounts of litter and unsafe parking and at least one water rescue.
The most recent was during the July 4 weekend, when a young boy was carried away from his parents by the fast-moving water. The boy managed to grab onto a rock; he was rescued from there by volunteers from Salisbury, Falls Village and North Canaan.
In response, the first selectmen of Salisbury and Falls Village contacted First Light and asked them to close off the access points to the river, including the parking area and boat launch beneath the falls and the iron bridge, across from the power plant.
The safety precautions and new signs were largely ignored last weekend.
At 2:30 p.m. on Sunday, a sawhorse and caution tape at the entrance to the picnic area and boat launch had been moved out of the way, and the parking lot was overflowing. Several groups of people were observed having cookouts, while others wandered around or made their way into the falls.
The First Light power station was not diverting any water, so the flow in the falls and river was robust.
Approximately 50 cars (and half a dozen motorcycles) were parked along Housatonic River Road on the Amesville side of the river, from the intersection with Dugway Road up past the locked gate to the boat take-out area above the dam.
Cars were parked a few yards from signs reading “No Parking Either Side” and in front of caution tape and a large sign reading “Area Closed.”
On the Falls Village side, another 20 or so cars were parked by the bridge, where there are no signs.
And at the Appalachian Trail parking lot a short distance away on Water Street in Falls Village, one of the cones and the caution tape had been moved and someone was having a picnic.
All told, there were about 100 cars parked in the area.
There were very few people observed wearing masks. There were a lot of family groups, judging by the number of children. Many were lugging coolers and blankets, and crossing caution tape to get to the trails leading down to the falls.
In recent years, new trails have been created by heavy use as visitors slide down the hillside to get to the base of the falls.
First Selectman Henry Todd of Falls Village said on Monday morning, July 13, that he went down to the falls on Sunday around noon.
He said the town is going to put signs up on the Falls Village side to try and get the message out.
He added that the overcrowding makes it difficult for emergency vehicles to operate.
Todd said he was trying to get First Light officials on the phone.
“It’s just got to stop.”
On Monday afternoon, July 13, Rand said in a phone interview that he has now asked First Light to close off the picnic area and boat launch on Dugway with something more substantial than sawhorses, traffic cones and tape.
He also asked First Light to put up “No Parking” signs along Dugway from Brinton Hill Road to Sugar Hill Road.
Photo by Alexander Wilburn
Photo by Patrick L. Sullivan
Want more of our stories on Google? Click here to make us a Preferred Source.
Savannah Stevenson as Mrs. Paroo and Elliott Andrews who plays Harold Hill in the nationally touring production of “The Music Man.”
Then she became a lawyer instead.
“The leap from performing to lawyering isn’t as significant as it seems,” Stevenson said one recent morning from somewhere between tour stops on the national tour of Meredith Willson’s “The Music Man,” in which she now plays Mrs. Paroo, the Irish immigrant mother of Marian the librarian.
For 18 years, Stevenson practiced law at high-profile New York firms specializing in criminal defense before eventually becoming head of ethics, compliance and risk at Peloton during the company’s dizzying pandemic boom years.
“At some point in time, I got married and had children,” she said matter-of-factly. “And then life kind of unfolded.”
Stevenson and her husband began renting a house in Falls Village “just to get out of the city on the weekends.”
“We fell in love with it, of course,” she said. “And then when the pandemic hit, we of course fled the city up to that house and decided not to go back.”
Sharon Playhouse Board President Savannah Stevenson, former attorney and lifelong theater loverProvided
The family — Stevenson, her husband Jon, and daughters C.C. and Sylvie — became full-time Salisbury residents in 2020.
Then came another plot twist.
While the world was buying exercise bikes and streaming spin classes from their living rooms, Stevenson was part of Peloton’s legal leadership team. But after the company’s spectacular rise came the somewhat inevitable crash.
“In 2023, the board decided to let the entire executive team go,” she said.
Suddenly, Stevenson found herself unemployed in Northwest Connecticut with time on her hands and a teenage daughter deeply immersed in the Sharon Playhouse YouthStage program.
“My older daughter said to me, ‘Well, as long as you’re bringing me to and from rehearsals every day, why don’t you audition for the show?’”
She auditioned.
“And they were like, ‘Oh, you actually can sing.’”
What followed sounds like the plot of a feel-good movie about reinvention in middle age: mother and daughter performing together at the Sharon Playhouse while Stevenson rediscovered a part of herself she had set aside decades earlier.
“It was the most joyful experience ever,” she said. “And I kind of realized that now, in my late 40s — I’ll be 50 this year — I’ve aged into this entire new crop of roles. The mothers, the older wise women, the cougar,” she said, laughing. “All of these great older women’s roles.”
So, she started auditioning.
And getting the parts.
Now she’s on a six-month national tour.
“It really does feel like a full-circle moment for me,” Stevenson said.
If that sounds glamorous, Stevenson is quick to point out that touring theater is less champagne and more buses, protein bars and Peloton app workouts in hotel rooms.
“There are certainly times where it’s a show Monday night in one city, get on the bus, show Tuesday night in another city, get on the bus,” she said. “There’s a lot of time on the bus.”
Mostly, though, she talks about the crew with something approaching reverence.
“We finish a show at 10:30 or 11 at night. They load out the entire set onto trucks. Then they sleep on the bus, get to the next city at 8 a.m., load it all back in and rebuild it,” she said. “They work so hard. It’s incredible.”
In “The Music Man,” Stevenson now plays the role she once dreamed of from the opposite side of the generational divide.
“I would have sung Marian in my 20s,” she said. “Now I get to play her Irish mother, Mrs. Paroo.”
There is a scene where Marian sings “My White Knight,” and Stevenson stands nearby as Mrs. Paroo listening silently. And while the younger actress sings about longing and possibility, Stevenson finds herself thinking about her own daughters.
“Sometimes I just find myself standing there with a tear running down my cheek,” she said.
Meanwhile back home, Stevenson has become one of the Sharon Playhouse’s most visible champions. She joined the board in 2023 and stepped into the role of president this year.
“There’s social science that provides really strong evidence about the benefits of having a theater in your community,” Stevenson said. “Lower rates of violence. Higher rates of volunteerism. Higher graduation rates.”
She speaks about theater the way some people speak about public libraries or churches — as essential civic infrastructure.
“Sharing laughter, tears, music and dancing through stories that illuminate our common humanity touches us in a way that builds connection, empathy and genuine community,” she said.
Much of that conviction comes from watching what theater has done for her own children.
When her oldest daughter interviewed at competitive boarding schools this year, Stevenson said interviewers repeatedly commented on her poise and confidence.
“They would say to me, ‘All that theater education is really paying off,’” Stevenson said. “She can establish connection with people readily.”
When asked what advice she might offer to other women contemplating a midlife pivot, Stevenson resisted the fantasy of reckless transformation.
“I don’t think it’s about jumping without a net,” she said.
Instead, she advocates something more measured.
“It’s about making a calculated risk,” she said. “And then, once you’ve run those calculations and feel planful enough about it, really diving into that risk headlong.”
Which is perhaps another way of saying that sometimes the girl who once sang show tunes in Atlanta and studied musical theater at Carnegie Mellon never actually disappears.
Sometimes she’s just waiting patiently for her cue.
For tickets to The Music Man, visit themusicmantour.com
Want more of our stories on Google? Click here to make us a Preferred Source.
