In 1969 when the Rochester Historical Society was born, the town’s population was

1,965. Gas was 35 cents a gallon around here, and the value of the average house in town was $28,000. As of 2018, the population is 5,698. Gas is about $2.75 a gallon, and the average Rochester home is valued at $375,000.

            Rochester, to say the least, has certainly changed these past 50 years. But one thing that hasn’t changed is the now 50-year-old tradition of preserving as much of the history of Rochester as possible, something Rochester was ready to celebrate on September 14 during a party at the COA.

            After a luncheon and, of course, a big piece of cake, the roomful of Rochesterites – some current, some prior, but always a ‘townie’ at heart – enjoyed a stroll down memory lane, led by a string of guest speakers well versed in the history of Rochester. Some shared stories discovered during past RHS meetings when members hosted “memory nights” and nights of “show and tell,” like the story Connie Eshbach told about the dances behind Dewey Park that went on “until boys from another town came to destroy the dance pavilion” after, she quoted, “a battle of baseball bats.”

            There was the vacant haunted house on Bowen’s Lane that residents were convinced was haunted by ghosts of white that passed behind the windows but ultimately ended up being sheep stranded inside.

            There were stories about how Rochester was void of electricity until the 1940s, RHS fundraisers gone awry, and the quirky gifts students have given Jackie Demers, Rochester’s very first kindergarten teacher, who taught for 45 years at Rochester Memorial School. Demers, originally from New Bedford but now an appointed honorary “townie”, has tons of stories.

            “Where else but Rochester would you have a cow come to school and walk across the hall into the courtyard?” asked Demers. “Only in Rochester, and I was a city girl so I sure wasn’t used to that, but the kids loved it.”

            Demers continued, “God blessed me when he led me to Rochester… It’s been a great time for me and I thank all of you for your many, many kindnesses.”

            The times have certainly changed since the very first members started the RHS, including the Society’s first-ever treasurer, Barbara King Besse, who was present at the party.

            “What started [the Rochester Historical Society] was curiosity,” said Eshbach. “Because they were curious about the houses they lived in and the neighborhoods they lived in. I think that… some people think of history as dry as dust; but, really, it’s for people who are curious about things.” 

            And if one is curious enough to visit the RHS museum located at the East Rochester Church on County Road and rifle through the ton of books, documents, genealogy searches, and other relics, as Eshbach put it, “You get answers to questions you maybe didn’t know you had.”

            Mack Phinney, president of the RHS, had a message for the generation after his: “It’s up to you to pass it on to the younger folks to rediscover and share the history of Rochester.”

By Jean Perry

            There are many hands and hearts in the little town of Mattapoisett, Massachusetts. Hands that wave with a friendly ‘hello’ and thousands of hearts inside these 18 square miles that beat with a love for this town and are full with compassion during times of struggle.

            We all watched earlier this month as Hurricane Dorian slowly churned in the Atlantic and hoped that the storm would no more than graze us as it moved northeast in our direction. We saw the destruction left in its wake as it battered the Bahamas and we were struck by the footage that accompanied the headlines in the storm’s aftermath. We clasped our hands in prayer and hoped with our hearts for a quick recovery.

            But then our attention turned toward another direction. Dorian swept itself out to sea and dissipated. The Bahamas disappeared from the headlines. Our hands became busy with other things and our hearts were again occupied with matters closer to home – but not for ‘all hands and hearts’ in Mattapoisett.

            You’ve probably driven past the nondescript office along Route 6 in Mattapoisett a hundred times, perhaps even during the week after Dorian devastated the Bahamas, and saw the sign “All Hands and Hearts” without realizing its significance. Regardless, situated in that small, inconspicuous plaza is a hub of international relief efforts that is mobilizing hands and hearts from all over the world to send to the Bahamas just as the rest of us have nearly stopped thinking about it.

            The non-profit organization All Hands and Hearts has its headquarters in Mattapoisett and is overseen by Mattapoisett resident and CEO Erik Dyson, Dyson and his team are the first-responders of sorts whenever disaster strikes somewhere on the globe. When a natural disaster devastates an area, Dyson and his team organize the deployment of some 50 to 60 volunteers every day to survey and assess the damage. Their disaster response is the critical first step after the storm for a place like the Abacos Islands, the region hit the hardest on the island chain nation of the Bahamas.

            Last week, the volunteers made their initial assessment of the islands to ascertain the areas that need the most help and how to begin to provide support. As Dyson put it, All Hands and hearts “arrive early and stay late,” sometimes even years after the impact. Disaster response happens in phases, said Dyson. Phase 1 is the “cleaning up, mucking and gutting, removing debris…

            “Which, of course, there’s lots of debris to be dealt with,” said Dyson.

            There’s tarping of roofs, schools, and medical posts, “And, really, just listening to the community on where the short-term goals are,” said Dyson. And it’s often done without clean running water or reliable electricity amidst relative chaos and shock. These volunteers’ hands do the dirty work, the cleanup.

            The initial team figures out where rescue planes can land when airports are badly damaged, and where they can set up a base of operations to welcome more volunteers – dozens that arrive every day from different countries, including the U.S. The team works with local NGOs to understand the areas of highest need.

            “Based upon the needs we hear, then we send an assessment team to do a detailed outline of the scope of work, the budget of the materials needed,” said Dyson. The cleanup phase alone can take months, sometimes three to four and, in the case of the Bahamas post-Dorian, four to five months, even.

            “It’s such an extreme impact level of damage,” said Dyson. “But then we’ll transition to long-term recovery beyond the ‘taking-apart’ phase – the phase of rebuilding.”

            The Abacos Islands will need schools, houses, medical posts, community centers, evacuation centers, all its community infrastructure rebuilt after Dorian. And there are still other devastated areas – Puerto Rico, the Florida panhandle, Mozambique, the Philippines, and Nepal, to name a few – where that rebuilding is still taking place years later.

            All Hands and Hearts will likely spend two years rebuilding in an area affected by a natural disaster. The goal in The Bahamas is to help at least 2,500 people by mobilizing a minimum of 1,000 volunteers. But to succeed, it will also need to raise around $5 million. It takes a lot of money to rebuild, and in the case of the Bahamas, an island nation, it’s already expensive to import building materials even without the added disruption of the supply chain.

            Mattapoisett is where it begins with the help of the local hands and hearts the organization employs at its headquarters, the people that perform the administrative duties, financial matters, human resources, and public outreach. Sometimes, though, it’s the local people who arrive at ground zero to assess, like one seasoned “logistics guy” from New Bedford that has assisted in many assignments, said Dyson. This one, however, was different. “He was struck by just the absolute destruction,” Dyson said.

            Right now, there are no operating gas stations, no baseline infrastructure, nothing.

            “It’s still really slow getting started because it’s – there’s just nothing there,” said Dyson. “It’s not just shut down, it’s gone.”

            In disasters like this, about 80 percent of the funding to rebuild is raised during the first 60 days before interest fades. “It’s already happening,” Dyson lamented. “Initial interest is high… but now, a week later, it’s fallen off the news…This is something that will take five or more years for the community to get back to normal and we’re already in week two and we’re seeing a huge drop off in interest.”

            This goes not just for money, but for volunteers, too. There was a huge interest in volunteering, said Dyson, with around 5,000 signing up, but they will need about 1,000 steady volunteers a year in the Bahamas. “It’s always a challenge,” said Dyson, when that interest starts to wane months into the efforts.

            This is where the rest of the hands and hearts of Mattapoisett come in – the volunteers and people of the Abacos need your hands; they need your hearts.

            Please considering making a donation to All Hands and Hearts, or consider taking a chance on volunteering. No skills are required, the group will teach you everything. You can make a donation or apply to volunteer (it’s a rather quick process) by visiting their website www.allhandsandhearts.org.

            Although water, food, and clothing drives are often a response to an effort such as this, monetary donations or volunteering are the best ways to help. It’s expensive to ship material goods abroad and ineffective compared to the power of an express donation of money, of any amount.

            Dyson urges his neighbors to follow the organizations efforts by visiting the website or signing up for updates. “Also, please think about other places with impacts that aren’t obvious on the front pages, but are affected,” said Dyson. “Those people need our help.”

By Jean Perry