The Marion Art Center wrapped up the first session of Artstart with a production of ‘The Secret’ this Friday. The two-week program for children ages four to nine focuses on arts, crafts, music, theater and stories. Program director Nancy Sparklin said the children had great fun and all got along wonderfully. Session two starts on July 9 and session three on July 25, both sessions still have space for more children. More information about the program can be found on their website at www.marionartcenter.org/ArtStart, and parents can register their children through the site as well.

Photos by Paul Lopes

With a joyous vibe filtering through the huge crowd at Shipyard Park, people came together for the 2013 Mattapoisett Road Race. They came from places near and far to be together, to say they accomplished something, to laugh, to remember – to run. The Mattapoisett 4th of July Road Race has become an event many look forward to each year. And there are just as many reasons why people want to be in the race as there are people attempting to finish it.

This annual summer time happening had 1,152 registered runners. The race was opened with the singing of the National Anthem by an outstanding barbershop quartet from New Bedford. Then with the Founding Father, Robert Gardner sitting in a tricked out highway department dune buggy at the lead, the gun sounded and the cheering reached the heavens above as the racers advanced like one giant moving mass of humanity.

Families ran together like the Hughes family of Rochester, mother and two daughters, the Folly’s of Mattapoisett Dad, Mom and two daughters, cousins Shawn Arruda and Jerome Agaran.

Agaran just completed two tours of duty in Afghanistan. At 27 years old he is very happy to be home and to be able to run on two good legs close to home and loved ones. His cousin Arruda age 16 was so glad to have him home he decided to run with him even though it was only the second such road race he’d ever participated in. They wore deep red t-shirt emblazed with the word FREEDOM across the chest.

Bill Folly and his family have run the race for the last eight years. This family of four are very proud Americans with Dad carrying a full sized wooden pole American flag the entire length of the course, unfurling it as he crossed the finish line. When I asked him why he humbly said, “it seems like the right thing to do on the 4th of July.” Indeed, Mr. Folly, indeed.

The females of the Hughes family of Rochester are the runners. Meg, Kate and Mom are veterans of road races and Meg is the same age as her number #11. The two sisters handily completed the race but Mom had a harder time. She reached the finish line with her daughters’ delighted faces waiting for her.

Diane Lee (age 59) got a surprise when her Father, Bill signed her up for the race. He knew she’d be visiting him in Fairhaven over the holiday and that with her love of running races back home in California she’d be game for this little village event. She obliged her 85 year old Dad. I watched him wait with anxious anticipation, with pains in his legs, for his daughter to come on home to him this way.

Steve Bonney, #93 of Mattapoisett took a little longer than some to come across the finish line but he did so in about 2.5 hours in his wheelchair. She wife walked the course with him and her pride in his accomplishment was as brilliant as the smile that graced her lips when she said, “he started at 7:37 this morning.”

Ned Point summer resident Tom Greeley, #323, came across the finish line slick with sweat and squealing with joy. His elation for completing the course on roads he knows so well was a delight many echoed if not so visibly or audibly.

First time entrants Carola Harden, #332, of New Bedford and her friend, Shawna Pires, #611 of Fall River were as beautiful as any Olympic track and field athlete as they came down the Water Street towards the finish line. Their combination of running and walking was the strategy they employed to finish the race as the sun grew in strength and the humidity began to reach its zenith – a perfectly hot July 4th day.

Runner Julia Bendeth-Lomberto, #439, of Franklin was running pushing her baby’s carriage containing little Albie. Albie’s start in life has been difficult causing the family to stand by as he went through numerous medical treatments for a congenital heart condition. Mom often runs road races to raise money and awareness for such medical conditions. At the end of the race Albie was allowed to walk across the finish line powered by his own two little legs. Miracles do happen.

The first runner across the finish line was #245, worn by Jason Eddy, 1998 graduate from ORR, whose time of 27:10 pleased him greatly. There was no one else in sight with the next runner, #5 more than a full minute behind him.

But it was the one-hour mark that saw the bulk of the runners pouring down the street towards that wonderful sign – FINISH. At the beginning of the race all the runners looked fresh and raring to go, at the one-hour mark most were glad it was over but all were happy to have “been there done that.”

Race Mayor, Mattapoisett’s own Danny White, #801, wasn’t sure if he would run the race this year although he had been contemplating doing so for some months prior to committing. He came in with others around the one-hour mark. A noble showing for a reluctant runner.

The Mattapoisett Road Race is a time for some to prove their athletic worth, for others a time to be with family participating in a fun event, or standing on the sidelines cheering on friends and loved ones. And for still others, its an opportunity to expand the public’s awareness of important causes. Whatever the reason, this year’s race will go down in the history book as the classic event it is. For full race results, visit www.racewire.com.

By Marilou Newell

Photos by Felix Perez

Crowds, participants, officials, and horses gathered at Washburn Park in Marion on Independence Day for the 66th Marion Horse Show, which showcased several riders and horses from the area as well as from places like Cape Cod, Rhode Island, and Connecticut.

This year, there were around 70 entries, who competed in several different events that display both the talent of the riders as well as the makeup of the horses themselves. Depending on the event, the duos are judged for everything from the riders handling of the horse to its posture, build, trot, etc.

One of the highlights of the show was its location. Originally held at Sippican School, it now takes place at Washburn Park, which is a perfect place for spectators to take in an afternoon of equitation. There are several stone walls that surround the horse ring, making it easy to view each of the participants, and there are also a number of trees surrounding it, which provided shade from the hot sun for the many onlookers in attendance.

“This is a jewel of a park,” said Dottie Nunes Spooner, who is on the Horse Show Committee. “No matter how hot it is, we always have a breeze. They did a good job of laying this out. The different grades makes it nice for spectators to come and watch.”

Spooner and her sister, Debbie Martin, explained that themselves and a variety of local women grew up at Washburn Park and with the horses, and though the show may not be what it once was, the Committee will continue to assemble and put on the shows.

“Marion has a history of horses,” Martin said. “Times have changed – the place used to be packed – but we’re happy to keep it going for another year.”

The two explained that preparation for the event started in January, and that it took the hard work of numerous volunteers to take place.

Laurie Buler, who is a horse trainer at Harmony Farms in Rochester, had 10 horses/riders in the event.

“It’s great,” Buler said. “It was a little hectic at first, but it’s been a great day.”

“It’s great, because everyone comes from the parade [in Marion] and they watch the different classes, and then they go to the beach after,” said Peter Johnson, whose daughter Sophie competed in the day’s events.

Kyah Woodland, 11, of Rochester, competed with her horse Digger. She said that she’s competed before, and that she has family ties to the event as well.

“My grandfather is the farrier,” she said, and explained that the farrier is responsible for equipping the horses with horseshoes.

Overall, the event seemed to be a success among competitors, officials, and spectators alike. Let’s hope that the event continues, and with it, the history of horses in the area continues to trot forward.

By Nick Walecka

The Benjamin D. Cushing, Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 2425 celebrated their annual Fourth of July Parade on Thursday. The parade had one hundred entries including antique cars, tractors, antique trucks, clowns, floats, fire engines and marching bands who organized behind the town house before proceeding onto Main Street.

The parade went east on Main Street, to Spring St, north to Rt. 6, west on Rt. 6 to Front St., south on Front St. to Main St. and back to the town house, where prize winners were announced. The judges stand was across from the Tabor Fields on Spring Street and judges included Pam Gibbs, Maureen Kimbal and Tom Gibbs.

“We had everything today… a bagpiper, tractors, great music, you name it,” said Rodney Hunt, parade chairman. “The weather was hot, but people stayed in the shade and everything went smoothly,” said Mr. Hunt.

The Best in Parade went to Joe Guard, of Fairhaven who entered a restored train that use to be part of Buttonwood Park in New Bedford. The train ran on a track at the park from 1952 to 1958. The train pulled two 1956 restored bumper cars and two 1956 restored Tilt-O-Whirl carriages. Guard received a $100 check for coming in Best of Show.

Mr. Guard, wearing a train engineer’s hat, promptly called out to Jody Dickerson, head of the Marion Recreation Department and asked him to come forward. Guard gave Dickerson the check and shook his hand. “I want to donate this to the department,” said Guard. “Thank you so very, very much,” said Dickerson. Guard has two sons who live in Marion and had young family members riding in the cars. Guard also won a trophy for Most Original.

Winners included:

Best in Parade: Joe Guard with his Train, bumper cars and Tilt-O-Wheel cars

Most Original: First Place: Joe Guard with his Train, bumper cars and Tilt-O-Wheel cars; Second Place: Yankee Clipper with Al Hamer; Third Place: John Gibbons

Marching Band: First Place: Portuguese American Band directed by Dan Ferreira; Second Place Marion Marching Band; Third Place: The Relics, a local band

Color Guard: First Place: Marion Police Color Guard; Second Place: Marion Boy Scout Troop 32; Third Place: Marion Girl Scouts

Commercial: First Place: Countryside Child Care Center; Second Place: Alex Race; Third Place: Papa’s Fuels; Fourth Place: Papa’s Lawn Care

Tractors: First Place: Cam Bacchiocchi Second Place: David Rawcliffe; Third Place: Kala Souza; Fourth Place: James Gonneville

Antique Vehicles: First Place: Steve Cook; Second Place: Matt Nowick; Third Place: Ray Pittsley; Fourth Place: Dave Kinney

Antique Fire Engines: First Place: Bob Pittsley; Second Place: Howard Smith;

Historical: First Place: Sippican Historical Society’s float celebrating their 50th Anniversary; Second Place: Chris Frost

Antique Fire Engines: First Place: Bob Pittsley; Second Place: Howard Smith

Family Group: First Place: Michael Forand. Second Place: Joan Gardner. Third Place: Chris Washburn; Fourth Place: Chris Front

Civic Group: First Place: Marion Art Center; Second Place: Marion Recreation Department

Military Vehicles: First Place: Scott Snyder. Second Place: Kirby & Carolyn Gilmore.

Civic Vehicles: First Place: Marion Fire Department; Second Place: Rochester Fire Department

By Joan Hartnett-Barry

Looking back through the veil of time to July 1863:

“Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee concentrated his army around Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, upon the approach of Union Gen. George G. Meade’s forces. On July 1, Confederates drove Union defenders through Gettysburg to Cemetery Hill. The next day, Lee struck the flanks of the Union line, resulting in severe fighting at Devil’s Den, Little Round Top, the Wheatfield, Peach Orchard, Culp’s Hill and East Cemetery Hill. Southerners gained ground but failed to dislodge the Union host. On the morning of July 3rd, fighting raged at Culp’s Hill with the Union regaining its lost ground. That afternoon, after a massive artillery bombardment, Lee attacked the Union center on Cemetery Ridge and was repulsed with heavy losses in what is known as Pickett’s Charge. Lee’s second invasion of the North had failed.

“51,000 soldiers from both armies were killed, wounded, captured or missing in the three-day battle. Four months after the battle, President Lincoln used the dedication ceremony for Gettysburg’s Soldiers National Cemetery to honor the fallen Union soldiers and redefine the purpose of the war in his historic speech.”

I reprint that excerpt from www.civilwar.org 150 years after the battle of Gettysburg colored the ground red with blood. Families lost everything dear to them, including one another as they found themselves on opposing sides. The memory descends the decades.

When visiting Gettysburg, where so much horror took place, one becomes overwhelmed by the quiet, as if a dome of silence encapsulates the space. Visitors speak in hushed tones and walk slowly. What do we absorb in this place of hallowed ground? Is it the enormity of what humans can do to one another in the name of their cause? Is it the lengths we will go to when our belief systems mandate the ultimate sacrifice? Or, in this case, was it the absolute necessity to crush a system that set one class of person aside for use as instruments of commerce: slavery for profit? Maybe it is all of these things combined.

The Civil War swept along every man, woman and child in its wake. It consumed our nation and through the throbbing pain of war brought about the end to commercial slavery in this country. Yes, there were many other nuances to the Civil War; yes, all slavery did not end completely when the North won, but it was the right beginning to its end. Amen.

As I read Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, spoken to commemorate that field of battle as a final resting place, the words are fresh if just a little stilted to my modern eyes and ears. However, they could be words spoken now in the Middle East, in the Sixties in Vietnam, in the Forties in France, Germany or the Pacific Islands. The words are to remind us “someone has given their all.”

July 4, our American Independence Day, is another hallmark in human history purchased through bloodshed. I guess that is just the way we are built, physical battles versus verbal exchange. I wonder: Is that the only way to win? I don’t know.

What I do know is that I’m proud of being American in spite of all our missteps, our sometimes over-zealous efforts to help other nations, our willingness to sacrifice our young for the freedom of oppressed people in other countries, and let’s not forget, feeding disparate populations.

Each occasion we have to celebrate our great, young nation makes me ponder what the founders would think of us today. Would they be pleased with what we have done with the gift of freedom they fought so hard to bring about and preserve? I think so. Our nation is not perfect, but it is so much better than many other places around the globe. Can I get a witness?

Our experiment in self-governing continues. It should, in my opinion, continue to evolve and not stagnate due to apathy or a rigid inability to accept that changes may be needed. In our little town, we can exercise our right as American citizens by participating in government, helping to create an even better place to live. We just have to be willing to get involved.

And while thinking that change is important, I’m old-fashioned too. A few years ago, I took my dad to a Veteran’s Day Celebration at Old Hammondtown School. Dad received the Bronze Star for his actions during the invasion of Normandy and subsequent participation in the liberation of France. I wish I knew more, but I don’t. That bothers me. Due to a fire in Oklahoma at a federal records facility, hundreds of thousands of military documents were forever lost, including my dad’s.

But that day at the school as Dad tried to follow along as the school band played patriotic music, while various speakers spoke of the sacrifices our military made, how they saved our way of life, with veterans dressed in their uniforms honoring those who never came home – Dad’s tears flowed. He didn’t understand everything, but he understood enough. And then one of the most moving speakers of the event came forward. George Randall recited extemporarily Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. It was breathtaking. His is the only speech I remember from that day and his evoked the grandest applause.

That Randall could so eloquently speak Lincoln’s words and that the words could be so full of meaning even today moved me to tears. Yep, there we were: Dad and I, tearfully enjoying the experience, acknowledging heroes known and unknown. Thank you, George Randall, for that fond memory. Thank you also for making me think about Lincoln’s words as never before, with deep appreciation of just what freedom has cost.

The 150th anniversary of the battle of Gettysburg is July 1 through 3. An excerpt from www.abrahamlincolnonline.org notes the following: “On June 1, 1865, Senator Charles Sumner commented on what is now considered the most famous speech by President Abraham Lincoln. In his eulogy on the slain president, he called it a ‘monumental act.’ He said Lincoln was mistaken that ‘the world will little note, nor long remember what we say here.’ Rather, the Bostonian remarked, ‘The world noted at once what he said, and will never cease to remember it.’”

Most of us live small, quiet lives built around family and friends. Lincoln would be proud of that. It is, after all, what our American Dream is all about – living peaceful lives as we pursue our hopes, dreams and opportunities. It is called freedom. Although we citizens of this great country are divided in many ways, I think we’d agree that President Lincoln got it right in the Gettysburg Address:

“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

“Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

“But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate – we can not consecrate – we can not hallow – this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work, which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us – that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion – that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain – that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom – and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

By Marilou Newell

Editors note: This story has been serialized into six parts which appeared weekly in The Wanderer

By Rudd Wyman

•Click Here to Read Part One

•Click Here to Read Part Two

•Click Here to Read Part Three

•Click Here to Read Part Four

•Click Here to Read Part Five

Part VI

Responding to a solid whack on my shoulder – hopefully not Hanky – I hug my friend, Dave Barker.
“One more set and I’d have cleaned your clock,” I tell him, and Dave laughs. We had some exciting tennis matches, and I often wondered if Dave and Jill juggled cupid’s arrows. The distant memories keep coming back.

Dave’s father, Hump, owned a 34-foot yawl, Barkeroll. Dave, Jack, and I sailed to the Vineyard for the annual Edgartown Regatta, a party weekend with a traditional Yacht race. After leading one hour into the race, we either lost our bearings, made a wrong turn, or had too many beers, and several boats followed. We did not know where we were, but Captain Dave made up for it with speed. Later, after several beers and apologies, everyone laughed.

I learned a valuable lesson on this voyage. While Jack slept, I filled his nearly empty beer can with salt water. Awakening, Jack took a slug, retched, spit, and reached for his “shoot a frisky shark” gun. Dave grabbed him around the neck, saving my life. Fortunately, Hump sold Barkeroll before three disillusioned argonauts’ formulated plans to join the New York to Bermuda Race, with or without loaded guns.

Memories of this Point Connett reunion will be treasured. The time is getting late, and I need to find Jill, luau alumnus and my favorite twin.

After Jack’s early death, Jill and I became Point Connett’s hooligan twins. With a bear hug, she kept me grounded on the stone pier as I fought and landed a seven-foot blue shark on a spinning rod. During the war, we exchanged Morse code messages by flashlight from facing bedroom windows. We were competitive: three-legged and potato sack races, tennis, Monopoly, beer-drinking games, and Go-Fish.

I used to kid Jill that anyone over 35 faces health issues. Now, with her snow-white hair and pushing the Cadillac of streamlined walkers, I find Jill chatting with June, another luau alumnus. June is escorted by Henry Wiggington – Hanky winks at me and says, “Maybe next year, Rudd, and keep up your writing.”

I wish Hanky a happy life, give Jill a long overdue hug, and ask her if June is a volleyball fan.

Jill replies, “You should have asked Hanky if June plays volleyball.”

“Hanky lies,” I say, but why should anyone care about an entirely plausible relationship? “Go-Fish,” Jill says, with a huge contagious smile.

It is important to spend quality time with my hooligan twin in this special place where mischievous behavior ignited exposure during our parents’ generation. Jill’s potato sack and three-legged marathons are history. With a few health problems of my own, including a couple of urgent visits to overcrowded ER rooms, we could discuss our medical issues. Definitely, I am proud of Jill for not belaboring a happy reunion with hospital talk.

“We’ve had good summers, Rudd, but why did your Mom accuse me of driving her car off of Redman’s Pier?”

Not wanting to destroy a mysterious moment, I ventured that my Mom did teach me to drive in a straight line.

The fact is that neither of us was driving. When Oman discovered us on the following morning of the late-night party, we were asleep next to Mom’s Pontiac, with its front wheels buried in the sand. After a wet smooch from Guntha, I envisioned the inevitable music of facing our parents, who had the Police looking for two hooligans in two states.

Jill, “Is that really what happened?”

“Go-Fish!”

August 15, 2011

Many proud ghosts of this and past generations have left treasured footprints in the Point Connett sand.

I had hoped to read this Essay to Jill, being cared for in a Marion nursing home. However, I did not get there in time.

Today, Jill is sailing on a great white cloud hopefully with caring angels, telling her to, “Go-Fish!”