Colby Olson was on his way to Lakeville on June 4 to watch his son Troy play a tennis match for Monomoy Regional High School against Apponequet in the MIAA Division 3 South team tournament when he detoured off of the highway and found himself driving on Route 105 through Rochester center.

            Olson spotted a white church building off the road and felt compelled to ask God to strengthen its people whom he had never met.

            “Then I drove on, and then my phone took me a completely different way and I went home,” he recalled.

            Little did Olson know several months later, he would become the new pastor at First Congregational Church.

            The email came last year while he was pastoring at South Chatham Community Church, a non-denominational Protestant Christian church he had been serving since 2011.

            “It was revitalization work. I felt that it was in a real healthy place,” said Olson.

            A devout, 45-year-old family man whose kids play sports and at times have been coached in baseball and/or soccer by their father, Olson built his ministry up and down the eastern seaboard by revitalizing and starting churches. When he was asked to interview for the job by First Congregational’s search committee, Olson requested to interview in person. Upon driving to the church, he realized it was the very one he had recently prayed for.

            The lengthy selection process culminated with a “candidating” weekend in which the congregation asked for 90 minutes to grill him with questions, personal and theological. His wife Joyce participated, he preached a sermon, and finally on January 4, he was voted in.

            South Chatham wanted Olson to stay longer and First Congregational “wanted me to not rush,” he recalled. Olson’s uncommonly smooth transition was made even smoother when his colleague, Adam Miller, took over the pastoral role at South Chatham.

            Olson’s career roadmap reads like that of a minor-league baseball coach.

            Before spending the last eight-plus years in South Chatham, he was in downtown Providence (where his car was totaled). Before that, he ministered to two churches in Gainesville, Florida, one of which he started, resulting in a documentary that led to outside interest in his services. In New York, he revitalized an existing ministry and, before that, had worked in Kentucky and Georgia.

            A native of nearby Halifax, Olson graduated from Silver Lake Regional High School and split his undergraduate studies between Becker College in Worcester and Asbury University, a Christian college in Kentucky where he studied applied communications. He did graduate study in Nyack, New York, at Alliance Theological Seminary, an evangelical institution affiliated with Nyack College and the Christian and Missionary Alliance. In 2003, he was ordained and commissioned under that banner.

            Freshly out of school, he participated in missions in El Salvador and Mexico, helping construct buildings for ministry and to clothe and feed the poor.

            Now Olson brings his own path of history to a church steeped in it.

            First Congregational is an independent church affiliated with the 65-year-old National Association of Congregational Christian Churches (NACCC) and, locally, the MACCC.

            Congregational churches overall date back to the 17th century, and a drive through any of New England’s rural areas discovers these churches and their white steeples against the scenic melding of fog and foliage. But each church has its own story, and Olson says he and First Congregational “hit it off” in their first introduction.

            Olson is aligned with the church’s conservative brand of orthodox Protestant Christian doctrine that is focused on daily reading of the Bible and his belief in personal salvation and transformation through the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Though his specialty is revitalization, Olson believes his work at First Congregational will stand on the shoulders of those who came beforehand.

            “I think the church is at a great place,” he said. “They had an interim pastor who did some good work and set a good course. The church set a vision prior to my arrival.”

            Olson is eager to set that vision in motion.

            What COVID-19 aka coronavirus hasn’t allowed him to do in person he is doing with his computer and his telephone. Olson was supposed to deliver his first sermon on March 15, but wound up streaming his message via Facebook Live. He wasn’t looking for laughs when he said in his sermon, “If you have extra toilet paper, knock on a neighbor’s door and ask them if they need toilet paper,” but he is a person who seems to embrace a good laugh on himself.

            “I’m no better than anybody else. God’s working in my life,” he said.

            Olson’s immediate goals are to get his parishioners to know each other better and to enable them to share their testimony of what God has done in their lives.

            “We want to reach as many people as possible with the gospel and love on as many as we can,” he said.

            Estimating over 100 attendees on the average Sunday, he said, “We’re not a megachurch,” but the Olsons are loving on one more these past few weeks after welcoming Tate, a newborn boy, into the family.

            “It was amazing. I pulled his head out and caught him. A midwife allowed me to do that. It was the most moving, powerful and spiritual (moment) of my life,” said Olson, making sure to include the birth of his other children, 20-year-old Cecilia, 18-year-old Kelsey, and 16-year-old Troy.

            Joyce Olson is a licensed clinical social worker. After growing up on a farm in Mount Blanchard, Ohio, she attended The Ohio State University and Boston College. Now she has her own practice, Metamorphosis Counseling Services, in Dennis, specializing in trauma work and also offering Nouthetic-style (Christian-based) counseling.

            First Congregational’s website (rochestercongregational.com) has been updated with a more visitor-friendly look, and the church is hoping to get Olson’s sermons onto ORCTV. 

            Until then, he can be seen on Facebook Live at 10:00 am on Sundays.

By Mick Colageo

            Tired of climbing the walls and waiting for an all-clear to the movies, restaurants and stores? No better time than the present to engage in a higher quality of life through what nature has right under our socially distanced noses.

            Take a walk.

            There are literally dozens of trails within a 20-minute drive in almost any direction away from or even along the shore.

            The Wanderer’s own Shawn Sweet, manager of the newspaper’s Facebook page and author of “Tri-Town Trek,” is an avid hiker and reports regularly on what’s going on in our natural habitat.

            Sweet, who sits on the Sippican Lands Trust Board and hikes anywhere from 10-15 miles with her husband primarily on weekends, advises proper clothing to avoid mosquito and tick bites, especially if hiking/walking vulnerable areas during vulnerable times of day.

            “I will say, although this time of year lends to mud and bugs, it’s also a great opportunity to explore,” she said. “The Spring Peepers are out and they are singing loud this year. Skunk cabbage is beginning to sprout. The ospreys are returning. 

            “I even caught a glimpse of a river otter swimming along the river at the Church’s Field property in Rochester… wish I had been quick enough with the camera.”

            In addition to East Over Reservation in Marion, Nasketucket Bay State Reservation in Mattapoisett and New Bedford Waterworks in Rochester, the three parks featured below, Sweet lists the following areas among her favorites: Aucoot Woods (White Eagle Parcel in Marion); Haskell Swamp Wildlife Area in Rochester; The Bogs in Mattapoisett; Brandt Island District in Mattapoisett; Osprey Marsh in Marion (a trail accessible to those with limited mobility and physical disabilities); and Great Hill on the Stone Estate in Marion. 

            From her many experiences, we picked three areas accordingly to accessibility inside each of the Tri-Town, Marion, Mattapoisett, and Rochester. The three selections are only the tip of a glorious iceberg and hopefully a portal through which the restless can find new pathways – no pun intended – to healthy living during precarious times.

East Over Reservation: Hales Brook and Sippican River Tracts

            Located at 285 County Road in Marion, the East Over Reservation is a 322-acre network that is owned by the Town of Marion and managed by The Trustees. The land crosses the town line into Rochester, where there is also an entry point. 

            The Marion entry point, accessible via a parking area off of County Road, leads to the Hales Brook and Sippican River Tracts. These well-marked tracts that wind their way through forests and along the Sippican River include 2 1/2 miles of trails and boardwalks.

            There are no facilities, but maps are posted on the trails. Not all East Over property has signage.

            A journey embarks on a boardwalk over a wetlands area and eventually to a choice between two right turns and a left.

            A right turn leads into a network of trails that go through the forest and reconnect; these trails include a rock slab bridge and rocky remnants of glaciers.

            A left turn leads to water views, first Hales Brook and then Sippican River. According to the Buzzards Bay Coalition website (savebuzzardsbay.org), The Trustees plan to extend this trail beyond the cranberry bogs into Rochester.

            East Over Reservation is home to wildlife on the ground and in the air, as hikers have seen deer, fox, mink, muskrat, and waterfowl.

            Visitors may bring their dogs and are asked to comply with local signage.

Nasketucket Bay State Reservation in Mattapoisett

            Nasketucket Bay State Reservation in Mattapoisett is owned and managed by Massachusetts Department of Conservation and Recreation (DCR) and accessible off of 94 Brandt Island Road. Five miles and 200 acres of coastal forests draw eager walkers along its trails through woods, meadows and salt marshes and ultimately to the rocky shores of Nasketucket Bay.

            According to alltrails.com, Nasketucket is an out-and-back trail appropriate for all skill levels and offering not only scenic views but beautiful wildflowers.

            It takes approximately 90 minutes to trace the Bridle, Salt Marsh and Holly trails. The Bridle Trail starts at the parking area, its grass circling through much of Nasketucket an inviting to bicycles and foot. Almost a mile long, the Shaw Farm Trail is accessible to the right and heads north to the Phoenix Bike Trail. Shaw Farm Trail is narrower than Bridle and takes the traveler out to Nasketucket Bay, its rocky shoreline and beach. A large rock marks the entry point to Holly Trail and a ticket back to Bridle Trail and the beginning point.

            Walkers can take their dogs and join with hikers or, depending on the season, horseback riders or cross-country skiers to spectacular views of Buzzards Bay and, to the west, West Island in Fairhaven.

            Many will access by car, but one can bike to the park off of the Mattapoisett Rail Trail. The Buzzards Bay Coalition’s new Shaw Farm Trail connects Nasketucket to the Phoenix Bike Trail in Fairhaven.

            Dogs must be kept on a leash.

New Bedford Waterworks in Rochester

            New Bedford Waterworks, covering 842 acres, is owned and managed by the City of New Bedford but is located and accessible from inside the Town of Rochester. Part of the protected Assawompset Pond Complex, New Bedford Waterworks protects an important public drinking-water supply for nearly 250,000 people in the region. Swimming and paddling are prohibited to protect the clean waters.

            On land, visitors ride bicycles and horses, or walk, ski or snowshoe, depending on the season, along the roads and wooded pathways. At the end of the trail, hikers enjoy a small beach and also fish.

            Trails are accessible from a parking North Rochester Congregational Church, located at 247 North Avenue. Roadside parking is allowed at any fire road entrance gate (R1-18) that is not marked “no admittance.” Please avoid block gates or fire lanes.

            To access the R10 gate to enter the Waterworks, walk the trail from the back of the church parking lot alongside North Avenue. At the gate begins Tinkogkukquas Trail, a sandy path that weaves its way for .7 miles into the woods to Great Quittacas Pond via Atuk Trail to the right and Namas Way to the left.

            Trails are marked at the entry point but not along the trails so a map is advised. Lakeville Town Clerk’s Office offers a map of the Assawompset Pond Complex for only $2.

            Dogs must be kept on a leash and on the paths.

            As with all public parks, remember no motored vehicles, please carry out what you carry in, and a final reminder to respect all signage indicating private property.

            For more information on the many trails in the region, link to “Tri-Town Trek” at wanderer.com and on our Facebook page.

By Mick Colageo

            All the news regarding COVID-19 has brought back memories of my childhood illnesses, contagious diseases that were cared for and confined at home. Chickenpox, measles, mumps, scarlet fever, ear and throat infections, “the grippe” and seasonal fevers. Yes, I’ve suffered them all and survived, in no small part thanks to my mother’s nursing skills.

            At the first sign of emerging illness, the victim would be comfortably confined to the living room couch, which had been dressed with fresh sheets and a blanket. From this central vantage point, Ma would monitor the patient as she went about her other household duties. Cool compressions and fresh glasses of water were always at the ready with a heavy dose of “Don’t move!” She believed in full body rest.

            Stationed beside the water glass and thermometer would be a stack of coloring books and crayons and picture books to keep a young mind engaged and tamp down whining outbursts of, “I’m bored!”

            If whatever ailed her child wasn’t responding to oceans of clear fluids, aspirin tablets and/or a diet restricted to mashed bananas and toast, the family doctor would be called in for a second opinion.

            In the afternoon the doctor would make his rounds visiting homes with sick children. “What do we have here,” he’d say with a cheery tone meant to inspire trust. That didn’t always work, however. He’d check our temperature, feel our neck glands, confirm Ma’s diagnosis and basically tell her to keep up the good work. “Give it a couple more days,” and he’d hasten to the next patient in his district.

            Occasionally the doctor would have to return due to a secondary infection, something that seemed to happen to me throughout my early years. Ear and throat infections were roaring problems. The use of antibiotics had only recently been advanced as a possible cure. When those were administered, via injection, the relief a mere 24 hours later was amazing.

            All the while, Ma kept up her nursing routines. I wonder now when she slept.

            Bed baths including oral hygiene were strictly adhered to. She’d gently comb my hair, “That will make you feel better,” she’d murmur. With a clean face and hands, back rub with cooling alcohol and combed hair I did feel better. Ma was determined to return her children to health. It was both physical and spiritual healing.

            The tragedy my parents lived through with the passing of a baby boy two years before I was born never really left them. Dad never spoke of it until decades later when his mind began to recall only past events. Ma spoke about it often when I was a child.

            Ma talked about the horror of watching her infant slowly creep towards the end of what would be a very short stay in her arms. In 1948 surgery for congenital heart defects was unheard of. Her baby was removed from the home to die in a hospital room far from its mother’s screams. Ma really never stopped screaming for that baby or hearing its plaintive yelps. She’d tell me as she sat in her wheelchair after being admitted into nursing home care, “I hear a baby crying at night.”

            When I came along, a somewhat weak little infant born during a snowstorm, Ma’s maternal instincts kicked into high gear. This baby would live. Though my struggles were all minimal compared to those the baby boy had faced, Ma treated each event like a life-or-death struggle.

            My crib was placed next to the bed my parents shared. I know this because I was still sleeping beside them when I was about three or four years of age. Ma was taking no chances. I clearly remember standing up in the cot and looking at my sleeping parents. I must have made a sound because the next thing I remember was Ma nestling me between her and Dad. Her sweetly smelling, talcum-powdered skin and Dad’s earthy arms are forever imprinted in my memory.

            As the years went by, Ma made sure I didn’t scratch my body when chickenpox made my skin crawl. She chased away the high fever associated with measles with ice packs and aspirins. She made gallons of hot tea, trays of dry toast, mugs of bullion, cooling cubes of frozen orange juice. Ma watched with anxious expressions and nursed with conviction.

            When the crisis had passed, the war against disease once again a victory to be celebrated, she resumed her normal routines. The couch became just a couch, no longer ground zero on Ma’s war against illnesses.

            Years later when my own child would need the care and comfort only available from a diligent parent, I knew what to do. I had learned at the elbow of a master of practical nursing – Priscilla Lorraine Billard Newell.

This Mattapoisett Life

By Marilou Newell