Name: Marissa Johnson

Role: President, Old Rochester Youth Football

Age: 36

How she came to Tri-Town: She grew up in Central Massachusetts and Dartmouth before her family relocated to Rochester just before her freshman year at ORR.

What she’d change as the President of Tri-Town: I don’t know if I’d change anything. I can tell you something I think is great, I like how a lot of the sports are together. I think it’s so much better than from when I was younger, when it was all separate. The kids get to meet all the kids from different towns, and when they get to the junior high and high school, they know each other. So I guess I’d say I’d strengthen that even more.

Favorite place: Well, the place I am the most is here (Old Rochester football field), especially this time of year. But I think my favorite spot is the lighthouse, the Ned’s Point area, it’s beautiful.

Ever seen a celebrity? Well, I work at Turk’s (Seafood in Mattapoisett), so you see people. I’ve seen Jason Varitek, and – oh goodness, I can’t remember his name … (James Spader?) … Yes! James Spader. He comes in once and awhile and gets takeout. It’s nice to see him, but we want to make sure they’re treated like regular people.

By Jonathan Comey

Marissa Johnson isn’t a movie star, but she’d have fit in just fine with the cast of the summer blockbuster Wonder Woman.

As the president of the Old Rochester Youth Football League (and mother of four), she is the leader of a large group of volunteers working together to keep Tri-Town’s young players and cheerleaders organized and engaged.

“I’ve been heavily involved for eight years, but this is actually going to be my first year in charge,” said Johnson, who takes over for Tom Flynn. “It was kind of natural for me to take over, because I have done a little of everything.”

More like a lot of everything – running a youth sports league is a daunting undertaking, requiring hundreds of hours over the course of a single season.

But with her husband Dayne as vice president, and her three youngest kids all taking part in the league (oldest son Drew plays football for Old Rochester Regional), it’s definitely a Johnson family affair.

“So yeah, I’m busy, but I’m definitely used to it,” she said. She’s at the Old Rochester Regional football field just about every day from now through November, filling whatever role needs to be filled on that day.

As one of the few female presidents of a youth sports league in the area, Johnson doesn’t worry much about fitting in.

“It is obviously a very male sport, but everyone’s been so great,” she said. “I had a great relationship with parents and coaches before, and I think they’re used to asking me questions, so I haven’t had any issues at all.”

And she also knows that husband Dayne, a former player at Old Rochester Regional who is an assistant coach there, has her back.

“I know a lot about football, but it’s nice to have your husband as a go-to for any kind of technical questions,” she said.

It was through Dayne that she came to love the sport. She said she grew up around it, but it wasn’t until she started dating her husband that she really fell for football (and him).

The athletic culture in Tri-Town has always been good, and then-Marissa Rand was a standout for the Old Rochester soccer and basketball teams.

She was a member of the 1998 state championship team that was recently inducted into the Hall of Fame – fittingly she missed the ceremony because she was attending her daughter’s basketball tournament.

There are always tournaments to attend, logistics to grapple with, and problems to solve.

“My husband and I are completely straight out, especially now. With Pop Warner football, you have so many regulations, ages, weights, rules, making sure everyone’s safe,” she said. “That’s my nervousness going into the season, making sure it all runs smoothly as it can. But I have a huge group of parents that have already helped out, stepped up a lot. It’s really a great league, I’m happy to be part of it.”

Between now and the end of the season, there will be countless headaches, large and small, for Johnson to deal with, and she admits that it can be difficult at times. But it’s all worth it.

“For me, it’s when we get to the championship games, and the kids are celebrating winning that trophy, that’s what really makes it great,” she said. “Seeing that for the kids, knowing they’ll all remember it. I love that.”

By the time you read this, we’ll all be lamenting the quick arrival of August. But before you pull out your wool sweaters, let me take you back to July.

Somewhere around July 10th as I made my way around a low-priced retail store, I was confronted by an oversized cardboard display. At first, I thought maybe I had fallen into a fugue-like state where I was dreaming about the store and if I just blinked twice I’d be back in bed. But no, blinking didn’t clear my vision.

There before me stood a large square box covered in images of crayons playfully dancing across a field of white and inside the box were hundreds of cartons of Crayola crayons. Crayons!!! This display was the precursor of what I knew would be on sale the following week – three-ring binders and lined paper. School supplies on parade because summer was over.

Okay, not literally, but certainly from the viewpoint of those who make a living marketing must-have items to a species presently covered in sunscreen. While we were just beginning to enjoy some sun and firing up grills, retailers were preparing to remind you that seasonal shifts are around the corner so hurry and stock up on crayons before they are all gone! Give me a break.

Here we go…

When I was a kid, summer lasted from the moment school closed until the moment it reopened. Oh sure, Ma received her advance copy of Sears and Roebuck’s winter catalog chockablock full of winter clothing. But no one was looking at it, including Ma.

We were too busy waiting for the ice cream man, eating watermelon, which by the way, was only available for a few weeks in the summer, and of course, riding bikes, playing jump rope, and going to the beach.

Ma was enjoying the slight freedom from domestic industry that summer allotted a wife and mother in the 1950s. Cold suppers were acceptable. Ma was freed from ironing little cotton dresses or preparing brown bag lunches.

At lunchtime in the summer, one of us might squawk, “Ma, I need a sandwich.” Her reply from the screened porch where she’d most likely be smoking a Winston and gossiping with a neighbor was, “Get it yourself!” No need to rush to the aid of an eight-year-old kid who had nothing to do all day but read comic books and blow bubbles into the wind.

We didn’t think about going back to school until the inevitable trip to the barbershop for a trim, or Ma’s call to, “Come here, let me check your fingernails,” signaled the jig was up. Something must be happening or else why would she care what we looked like, it was summer for crying out loud.

As I stood there before that display of crayons, my ire rose as only it can when control over one’s destiny is being handled by invisible forces. How dare they take my summer away by forcing me to accept that in a few short weeks schools would re-open? Damn them to hell!

Now that I’m far from those carefree days of childhood where the biggest problems I had to deal with were scabbed-over knees and a missing skate key, I’m right back to embracing summer like a child.

I study the tide charts and weather forecast then confer with my girlfriend to make sure she can come out and play. Then it’s off to the beach where we merrily bob around until our fingers are prunes and no longer have the sense of touch. “Oh, we better go in, I can’t feel my fingers any longer,” one of us will eventually remark. Sadly, we trudge out of the water morphing from two little girls at play back to two senior citizens who are well aware that seasons slip away much too fast.

But it still angers me that shareholder value equates to pushing the seasons along at an increasing pace. Before you know it retailers will be trying to sell us school supplies for the coming year before school even closes for summer.

Of course, I could just ignore the marketing strategies designed to pull dollars from consumer pockets into profit margins. Quarterly revenues must rule and reaching prescribed goals is a narrative all too familiar to anyone who has been part of a corporate structure. “Our shareholders expect value,” is a favorite CEO mantra. How about, “VALUE THIS!” I quit. Oh wait I’m retired. Ignore that last bit of ranting.

Candidly speaking, I just want to play with the same carefree abandon I once enjoyed. After all, how many seasons does one get is a difficult question with no answer. That’s why baby boomers have bucket lists after all.

So instead, I reject all the advertising hoopla. I’ll enjoy the tides and the sun, the fresh corn and the watermelons, ice cream cones beside the harbor, and long walks with the dog past 8:30 pm because it isn’t dark yet so I don’t have to go inside.

In a memory I hear myself saying, “Ma, I want to stay outside. Faith is still outside. The street light isn’t on yet, Maaaa!”

She is standing at the screen door saying, “Okay, but stay near the house.” My playmate and I sit on the edge of the sidewalk watching our sparklers slowly sizzle, safe in the knowledge that there is always tomorrow and summer is not over yet. Oh, the innocence of youth.

By Marilou Newell

What is known as “National Night Out” all across the country is becoming a pretty big deal. And it is always a big deal in the Tri-Town because, as a community of not just one but three police, fire, and emergency response management departments, a plethora of patrol cars, ladder trucks, ambulances, cool four-by-four vehicles, and an army of emergency responders, demonstrating them is immense.

The front lawn of Old Rochester Regional on Tuesday night, August 1, was vastly lined with every kind of emergency vehicle with beeps and bleeps and blinking lights of all volumes and patterns – and even more children to delight in them.

The National Night Out began over 30 years ago as an annual community-building campaign to help foster community-police partnerships and a friendly camaraderie amongst law enforcement personnel and community members.

Literally millions of Americans across the country in thousands of communities nationwide host a local National Night Out, and the Marion, Mattapoisett, and Rochester communities have been doing it for at least the last four years, said Rochester Police Sergeant Robert Small.

Every year, the event seems to grow by at least one other vehicle, or by one additional booth promoting community safety.

This year, Rochester Police Officer Robert Nordahl helped prepare a booth on child seat safety, which included demonstrations and installation assistance.

The Healthy Tri-Town Coalition also set up a table to keep the public aware of Lyme disease, West Nile virus, and displayed some new advances in safety such as the medical storage safe box for medications in the home.

On the far west end of the lawn, Mattapoisett Firefighter Joseph Tripp was helping kids use the fire hose to hit a target, pausing to help the kiddos straighten their nifty new plastic firefighter hats, given out courtesy of the local fire departments.

The sounds of beep beep and blip blip, along with swirling lights of blue and red made for some cool clamor as the kids were allowed to climb into the vehicles and experience some vivid make-believe with all the bells and whistles at their fingertips.

Sergeant Small sees the importance of hosting such an event year after year. It’s all about creating a space where the community and law enforcers – as well as fire and EMT workers – can meet and just enjoy interacting in a casual setting.

“It’s definitely an opportunity for the community to get to speak to us without any urgency,” said Small, which is usually the premise of a conversation with police. “It’s a chance to come out and meet us in a quiet environment where all the equipment is out to look at. We get to say ‘Hi’ to people in a more neutral environment,” Small said.

It’s great for the people of the community to get to know the ones who respond to their calls for help, Small said, and it’s equally beneficial for the police officers, he added.

“Everybody’s in a good mood,” said Small, “especially when it’s good weather like this. It’s just really easy.” He added, “It’s an easy, friendly environment to get to know each other.”

By Jean Perry