Category Archives: Looking back

Back To School, Back In The Day

The other day, Terry Brannigan got the Bedford Middle School supply list.

Which got the native Westporter/alert “06880” reader thinking.

He remembered back-to-school shopping, back in his day.

Cool kids at Long Lots Junior High.

Cool kids at Long Lots Junior High.

It was, he says, singular and simple: a “humiliating trip to Paul Zabin’s.” That was a kids’ clothing store in Colonial Green — now the site of George Subkoff Antiques — where, Terry says, “for some reason every girl I had a crush on was shopping the same day.”

What made the experience so excruciating, Terry explains, was that “well-intended mothers forced corduroy on their embarrassed sons.”

I don’t remember corduroys — but I do remember enormous battles over whatever type of pants were considered cool (in 7th grade, they had to end well above the ankles), which of course was exactly what mothers hated.

Terry nails it: “The haberdasher at Zabin’s knew who buttered his bread. If a debate arose about fashion, he always sided with the mothers.”

Fortunately, we could always count on Schaefer’s — next door to Max’s Art Supplies — for sneakers. Tip or Charlie knew exactly what we wanted.

For non-apparel supplies — 3-ring binders, pencils, protractors (?!) — it was Barker’s.

And that was that. One trip. Bingo.

Today, back-to-school shopping is a month-long event — for no reason other than retailers have made it so. There are endless choices — of stores, fashions and supplies. It’s all there, everywhere.

Except protractors.

 protractor

“I Caught Her In The Kitchen Playing Westport”

Hundreds of readers spent half an hour watching the “Westport’s Got It All” video I posted earlier today.

Some spent a few more minutes passing it along to relatives and friends.

One guy — presumably with a lot of time to spare — googled something Harry Reasoner said. In the video, the TV newscaster mentioned that he first learned of his future hometown from a Time magazine article. It quoted a song: “I caught her in the kitchen playing Westport.” 

Pearl Bailey sang about Westport.

Pearl Bailey sang about Westport.

The alert “06880” reader found a website called “Folk and Traditional Song Lyrics.”

Similarly inspired, I searched for a YouTube video of the song. I couldn’t find one.

But here — from “Take Five, A Julius Monk Review, ca 1952-1954,” are the lyrics.

According to the website, they come from an original cast record by Pearl Bailey and Will Holt. The version is “somewhat doctored” by R. Greenhaus.

There’s a little ranch house in the vale,
Pretty little ranch house up for sale;
All the shutters drawn,
Tenants all gone
And thereby hangs a long, unhappy tale.

‘Cause he caught her in the kitchen playing Westport,
A game indigenous to suburban life,
Where you take a wife of whom you’re not the husband,
While someone else’s husband takes your wife.

Some people may claim that the name of the game is Scarsdale,
Or Beverly Hills, or even Shaker Heights,
But commuters from Manhattan call it Westport.
And it’s the game that some of our local leading lights play
To while away those cold Connecticut nights.

Now in that little ranch house used to dwell
An advertising feller and his Nell.
Two kids and a pup, living it up,
And everything was sounder than a bell —
‘Til he caught her in the kitchen playing Westport
Between the washing machine and thermostat.

This is not the Westport kitchen the song refers to.

This is not the Westport kitchen the song refers to.

The husband thought it really was an outrage.
Said he, “You might at least remove your hat!”
Well, they may play it that way in Great Neck,
While in Levittown they’d never think it odd.
But there is not an architect in Westport
Who’ll ever forgive the cad that said, “My God! Sir.
I must have got the wrong cape cod!”

Since they are no longer groom and bride,
Quoting from the Sunday classified:
“Are there any takers
For three lovely acres
Of peaceful old New England countryside?”
‘Cause he caught her in the kitchen playing Westport
Which would ordinarily be a cause for gloom;
But though the sanctity of wedlock’s on the downgrade,
Currently housing is enjoying quite a boom!

And while they defame the name of the game in Boston,
Where naturally they think it’s a dirty shame,
In the green and fertile pastures of suburbia
The local dealers in real estate acclaim
It the best thing since the FHA, hey,

Westport is a grand old …
‘Midst pleasures and palaces …
Westport is a grand old game.

“Westport’s Got It All”

Back in 1985, the Marketing Corporation of America gave Westport a gift for the town’s 150th anniversary: a 30-minute video.

MCA is no longer around. Westport is no longer the “marketing capital of America.”

But the video — grandiosely titled “Westport’s Got It All” — has just been posted on Vimeo. It’s gone viral — at least, among Westporters and those who used to live here.

After nearly 30 years, it’s the gift that keeps on giving.

The video is filled with celebrities who lived here. Strangely — or, perhaps, understatedly and on purpose — none are named. Jim McKay reads a newspaper by the river. Harry Reasoner sits near a tennis court. Joanne Woodward has a cameo.

ABC's "Wide World of Sports" anchor Jim McKay sits on the banks of the Saugatuck River, in the town he called home.

ABC’s “Wide World of Sports” anchor Jim McKay on the banks of the Saugatuck River, in the town he called home.

Okay, so Rodney Dangerfield cracks, “The town of Westport has my respect.” But that’s the closest anyone comes to identifying him or herself.

The video opens with a cheesy, “Westport’s Got It All” song (including the line “Kids hanging out at the Dairy Queen…”). It’s sung by Westporter Dara Sedaka — Neil’s daughter.

But the pace quickens. There are shots of Main Street, the Playhouse, Staples, Compo, the downtown art show, Longshore, Cockenoe, the Levitt and the Memorial Day parade (ending at Jesup Green).

Most look pretty much the same today. But there are plenty of other places and things that are long gone: Remarkable Book Shop. The White Barn Theater. Mohonk House. Hay Day (in its original location, opposite Carvel). MCA.

And, of course, restaurants: Manero’s, Chez Pierre, Ships, Peppermill, Three Bears, Allen’s Clam House, Connolly’s … and on and on.

I found the voiceovers fascinating. Mason Adams, Alan Parsell, Herb Baldwin, Claire Gold, Julie Belaga, Dick Leonard, Cary Pierce — I recognized the voices of so many former politicians, educators, students and others.

Crusty Yankee Alan Parsell was 83 years old when he was interviewed for the 150th-anniversary video.

Crusty Yankee Alan Parsell was 83 years old when he was interviewed for the 150th-anniversary video.

Here are some of the things they said:

  • “Nothing goes on here that people aren’t concerned about. For every issue, there are at least 10 sides.”
  • “I’m worried the town is losing its mix of a variety of people.”
  • “Westporters have extraordinary aspirations for their children. And they’re willing to pay for it.”
  • “I work 2 jobs, 90 hours a week, to keep my head above water here.”
  • “Westport has the sophistication of New York, the exuberance of a California town, the quaintness of New England — and a sense of humor.”
  • “We do have latchkey children, as more and more parents go off to work.”
George Weigle conducts the Staples Orphenians. They sound great in the video.

George Weigle conducts the Staples Orphenians. They sound great in the video.

  • “It’s a very loving community, in many ways.”
  • “We draw people into town, to go to the theater and movies.”
  • “The Post Road is a disaster. But every town has its Post Road. This one looks better than many.”
  • “Commercialization has really changed this town. It’s been good and bad.”
  • “It’s a generous, gregarious, outgoing town.You can dress any way you like. You can be anyone you want to be. That’s the uniqueness of the community.”

That was Westport, 1985. Thanks to MCA, we’ve got a video record — promotional, but still pretty honest — of who we were.

What’s happened in the past 28 years? Are we better, worse, just different — or the same — as we were back in the days when big cars roamed Main Street, the Church Lane YMCA was still new, and people came from out of town for the movies?

Click on the video below (then wait 10 seconds to begin). Then click “Comments.”

(Click here if your browser does not take you directly to Vimeo.)

Joey’s: A Sure Thing By The Shore

Once upon a time, the Compo concession stand was located where the volleyball courts are now.

Run by Chubby Lane, it was staffed by high school and college kids. Though it was cool to work at the beach, the grills and fryolators were hot as hell. Lines were long, customers pushy, and no one wanted to be seen wiping down the tables outside or (worse) picking up garbage.

I know, because I was one of Chubby’s workers. It was my 1st job, the summer after 10th grade.

And don’t get me started on the navy blue shorts and knee socks we had to wear.

I thought of all that the other day, as I stood in line at Joey’s, the current (and longtime) Compo concessionaire.

The menu is a lot more varied than back in my day. (It was a big deal when Chubby added fried chicken to the burgers and dogs.) Today’s cooks have much more work. And even though a computer screen has replaced our high-tech method of yelling orders over our shoulders, no one has yet devised a way to cool a grill or de-grease a deep fryer.

It was hot. The lines  were long. But the teenagers and 20-somethings working at Joey’s were unfailingly polite. They did not snap (as I used to) at people who had 10 minutes to figure out what they wanted but just started deciding the moment they reached the register!!!!!!

They made sure little kids didn’t drop their ice cream cones or their change. They smiled at everyone, and (unlike my era) actually cared about getting the orders right.

Plus, there was always someone wiping down the tables, and picking up garbage.

Joey Romeo, by the shore.

Joey Romeo, by the shore.

We tend to take Joey’s for granted. It takes an out-of-towner to make us realize how good we’ve got it.

The other day, a friend-of-a-friend was visiting from DC. I sat on the beach; she went off in search of food.

She came back awed.

“You wouldn’t believe it — they have everything there!” she raved. “And sweatshirts. And pails and shovels!

“And it’s so clean! And the people are so nice! I couldn’t believe I was at a beach stand!”

Next year, Joey Romeo celebrates his 25th anniversary as Compo’s concessionaire extraordinaire.

It’s about time we celebrated him.

Don Willmott’s Westport Wonder Years

Today’s “06880” post belongs to longtime Westporter Don Willmott. His father  Al was a noted (and beloved) artist. Don, meanwhile, paints a wonderful picture with words.

In a few weeks I’ll sign the papers to sell my late mother’s Whitney Glen condo. With that signature, my lifelong connection to Westport will come to a sudden end that I should have anticipated, but never really did. After 49 Christmases, my 50th will be celebrated somewhere else. Suddenly, a wave of nostalgia crashes over me.

A red and white Minnybus putt-putt-putts noisily through the middle of my childhood memories: Laughter and tears at Seabury Nursery School. The beautiful Miss Amendola, who taught kindergarten on Bayberry Lane. Beach school. The friendly cashier at the Main Street IGA, and the even friendlier man who ran the liquor store next door. Microfilm in the old library reference room.

A red-and-white Minnybus, putt-putt-putting at Jesup Green.

A red-and-white Minnybus, putt-putt-putting at Jesup Green.

Play rehearsals in the darkened auditorium of Coleytown Junior High. The candy collections at the Merritt Superette and Carmine’s Smoke Shop. A swimming lesson at the Longshore pool on the day Nixon resigned. The line outside Fine Arts I to see “Star Wars.” A field trip to the police department’s basement firing range. Tense driving lessons with my father in the Sherwood Island parking lot.

Endless hours in the Staples hallways even as they were being rebuilt around us (for me, every high school memory includes the smell of roofing tar). Compo in every season. Putting my purchases on the family account at Dorain’s. The combo hero at Westport Pizzeria, and chocolate fondue at Ships. Talcum-scented haircuts at Lou Santella’s barber shop until I grew longer hair and demanded to see a “stylist.”

Many things change in Westport. The pizzeria is not one of them.

Many things change in Westport. The pizzeria is not one of them.

WMMM’s Bicentennial Quiz. Bike rides deep into Weston to discover the sources of the Aspetuck and the Saugatuck. Hot Memorial Day parades with a heavy saxophone strapped to my sweating neck. Nerve-wracking busboy shifts at The Treehouse Café and Comedy Club.

Clinging to the rope swing at the secret swimmin’ hole of Riverfield Drive, and all the block parties and holiday bonfire singalongs Riverfield’s parents orchestrated through the decades to make memories for their children that would last. And they have.

I won’t complain, as some others do, about what’s been lost over the years. After all, in the ‘70s my parents told us how much better Westport was in the ‘50s, and more is sure to change — and disappear — in the future. That’s life! It only moves in one direction, and we all move with it, even as we stop every once in a while to look back, smile, and remember how fortunate we’ve been.

Thanks, Westport. I’ll be back to visit soon.

Al Willmott painted his 6 Riverfield Drive home in 1989.

Al Willmott painted his 6 Riverfield Drive home in 1989.

 

Miggs And Michael

Most people, if they saw Michael Douglas in a restaurant, would do 1 of 2 things: They’d ask for his autograph. Or they’d stare.

Miggs Burroughs is not “most people.”

The other day, he saw the actor at Barcelona in Fairfield. Miggs — a well-known artist/designer — had a great opening line for the even better-known actor.

Michael Douglas -- older than when he wanted to be a stuntman, younger than today.

Michael Douglas — older than when he wanted to be a stuntman, younger than today.

Miggs reminded Michael that they were tennis partners at Westport legend Doc Marshall’s camp, held on the courts behind Bedford Junior High School (now Saugatuck Elementary) when the boys were 10 or 12.

As Miggs tells it: “Michael’s jaw  dropped with surprise, or maybe I was standing on his foot.”

Miggs remembered that Michael “hurled himself over the net and rolled around on the ground because, as he told me then, he wanted to be a stuntman when he grew up.”

Miggs continues: “Well, when the son of Spartacus” — or, anyway, Kirk Douglas, who played Spartacus in the movies — “tells you he wants to be a stuntman, then I wanted to be a stunt man too.”

So later in the week Miggs threw himself off the roof of a neighbor’s chicken coop. Unlike actual stuntmen — or Spartacus — Miggs did a nasty face plant on the ground. His nose split open.

He ran home. Covering his face, he dashed into the living room, where his parents were entertaining friends.

They asked what was wrong. Miggs dropped his hands. A torrent of blood spilled on the carpet, as the guests ran for cover. 

“Since it was all his fault, I should have asked Michael to autograph the scar on my nose from the stitches,” Miggs says.

“But I didn’t think of it until now.”

Miggs Burroughs. You can barely see his scar.

Miggs Burroughs. You can barely see his scar.

Save Cockenoe Now: The Sequel

Yesterday’s post on the fight to save Cockenoe Island from becoming a nuclear power plant brought an email from Abigail Burns.

She wanted to make sure that the contributions of her father — Richard Weinstein — are not overlooked.

Richard Weinstein

Richard Weinstein

A prominent lawyer in East Norwalk who died last year, he helped lead the charge against United Illuminating. With State Representative Ed Green, Richard played an important role in crafting legislation regarding first rights of eminent domain.

Richard’s involvement had far-reaching ripples. Alexander Adams — a founding member of the Nature Conservancy — asked him to join the fledgling organization. He served them for 0ver 40 years, including 2 stints as board chairman.

Abigail adds this fascinating postscript: The Fukushima nuclear power plant that continues to leak 300 tons of radioactive water a day — 2 1/2 years after sustaining heavy damage in an earthquake and tsunami — is the same type of plant that had been planned for Cockenoe.

Save Cockenoe Now: A “Powerful” Story From Westport’s Past

This Saturday (August 10), Jo Fox will join the Westport Historical Society’s trip to Cockenoe Island.

She’ll walk the 28-acre spit of rock, brush and sand a mile off Compo Beach. For decades it’s been a favorite spot of birders, boaters and campers (and lovers).

Some members of the tour will be regulars. Others will see it for the 1st time.

None would be there, though, without Jo’s herculean efforts nearly 50 years ago.

Cockenoe Island.

Cockenoe Island.

In 1967 Jo Brosious was the editor of the Westport News — a fledgling newspaper, challenging the established (and establishment) Town Crier.

A newcomer from the West Coast, Jo and her husband enjoyed taking their small boat out to Cockenoe (pronounced kuh-KEE-nee), to fish and clam.

One day, they heard a rumor. The island would be sold. On it, a power plant would rise.

Jo started a campaign to keep Cockenoe in the public domain. Readers quickly responded.

A couple of months later, the Bridgeport Post ran an enormous headline: “UI Plans A-Plant in Westport.”

United Illuminating — a statewide utility, and the new owner of the island that had long been privately held — would not just build a power plant. They planned a nuclear power plant. A 14-story nuclear power plant.

With a causeway, linking the island to shore.

The Westport News swung into high gear. Jo wrote news stories and editorials decrying the idea. She published letters to the editor, and editorial cartoons.

The Town Crier, meanwhile, supported the plan. It would be good, the paper argued, for the town’s tax base.

Memorabilia in Jo Fox's basement includes news clippings, a bumper sticker, a photo of Jo on Cockenoe, and another shot of her speaking in Hartford, as sunlight streams directly on her.

Memorabilia in Jo Fox’s basement includes news clippings, a bumper sticker, a photo of Jo on Cockenoe, and another shot of her speaking in Hartford, as sunlight streams directly on her.

An RTM hearing drew an SRO crowd. The legislative body voted unanimously to acquire Cockenoe. They’d use federal, state and — if necessary — local funds to keep the island as open space.

Save Cockenoe Now — a grassroots group — met often at Jo’s house. They enlisted the help of a Westport Library research librarian. In those pre-internet days, she struck gold: a Life Magazine editorial about ways in which municipalities could curb eminent domain requests of power companies.

Jo’s group decided to challenge UI’s eminent domain, through a pair of bills in the state legislature. One would enable the town of Westport to use eminent domain in this case. The other would allow all Connecticut towns to have pre-eminence  over all utilities, in all eminent domain cases .

That was huge. Case law was unsettled over who had 1st rights in cases involving eminent domain: utilities or local governments.

Ed Green ran for state representative, on a “save Cockenoe” platform. He became the 1st Democrat in 50 years elected from Westport.

Democrats pressed the issue. They rented buses to take Westporters to Hartford, for committee hearings on the 2 bills. Green introduced the 2 Cockenoe bills in Hartford. They were co-sponsored by Louis Stroffolino, a Republican representing the Saugatuck area.

Westport’s arguments were not against nuclear power, which — before Chernobyl and Three Mile Island — was considered safe and clean. The argument was for saving a valuable recreational spot; the power plant could be located elsewhere.

"Save Cockenoe Now" posters were displayed all over Westport.

Naiad Einsel’s “Save Cockenoe Now” posters were seen all over Westport.

Under pressure — including national press like the New York Times and Sports Illustrated; Senators Abraham Ribicoff and Lowell Weicker; Congressman Stewart McKinney; conservationists, fishermen, thousands of citizens, and even other utility companies that feared the omnibus bill — UI offered to sell the island.

There was, however, one condition:  Westport would drop the proposed legislation.

In 1967, the deal was done.

The town paid approximately $200,000 for Cockenoe Island — UI’s purchase price. State and federal funds covered 75% of the cost. Westport now owns Cockenoe — in perpetuity.

Jo trumpeted the accomplishment with this Westport News headline: “Isle Be Home For Christmas.”

When the deal closed — on December 23, 1969 — she wrote this head: “Cockenoe Island Safe in Sound.”

The next summer — and for every summer thereafter — area residents have enjoyed Cockenoe. But each year, fewer and fewer know that, without a crusade led by one woman, the island — if not the entire area — would look and feel far different today.

In July 1970, Life Magazine called it one of 7 significant environmental victories in the nation.

Jo Fox today.

Jo Fox today.

Jo has been out to Cockenoe a few times since 1967 — but never in summer.

This weekend — 85 years young — she looks forward to seeing the birds, clams and boats. (Though perhaps not the lovers.)

Thanks to Jo Fox, the water there is also a lot less warm than it otherwise would be.

(This Saturday’s trip to Cockenoe begins at  11 a.m. at Longshore Sailing School. In addition to kayak rentals — available there — the cost is $18 for Westport Historical Society members, $20 for non-members. Click here for details.)

Remembering Craig Matheson

Craig Matheson — founder of the legendary Staples Players’ drama organization; a former teacher and administrator at Staples High School, and a beloved educator, director, and wonderful, ever-smiling human being — died peacefully yesterday morning, surrounded by his family. He was 81.

He remained a Staples Players friend throughout his life. The last show he saw was “You Can’t Take It With You,” in May. Fittingly, that was the 1st Players production he ever directed, more than 5 decades ago.

A service is tentatively planned for Sunday, August 11, 2 p.m. at Green’s Farms Congregational Church.

Craig Matheson was known as the founder of Staples Players. But he was very involved in the Saugatuck Congregational Church too. In 2010 -- for the church's 175th anniversary celebration -- he played the role of founding father Daniel Nash.

Craig Matheson was known as the founder of Staples Players. But he was very involved in local affairs too. In 2010 — for the 175th anniversary of the chartering of the town of Westport — he played the role of founding father Daniel Nash.

In 2004 I interviewed Craig for my book, Staples High School: 120 Years of A+ History. Here is that chapter.

————————————–

In 1957 I had a been a public school English teacher for 4 years, in Southington and Woodbury. I had just finished my master’s degree in theater at Wesleyan, when I met [Staples English teacher] Gladys Mansir and [principal] Stan Lorenzen at a conference. She said Staples was building a new high school, and would I be interested in doing theater there? I said yes. Then she told me I wouldn’t have a stage for another year.

I came, and taught on Riverside Avenue for one year. I helped with the plans for the new building, but there wasn’t much I could do. It was more of an auditorium than a theater. The emphasis was on concerts, not plays, because the music program was so strong. I couldn’t change much, because it was already close to completion.

When I came to Staples there was no drama program – just the senior class play. Gladys and Edna Kearns had done them. They were trained in English and Latin, and were anxious to find someone to do the plays. The kids wanted drama, but they didn’t know anything about it.

The first year Stan wanted something, anything, so I did a production number – “The Night Before Christmas” – for the Candlelight Concert, which in those days was at Long Lots Junior High. We ended up alternating that and “Amahl and the Night Visitor” every year, for years. I also taught five English classes.

Christopher Lloyd, in Staples High School.

Christopher Lloyd, in Staples High School.

I found Christopher Lloyd. He was a marginal student, but he was interested in theater. He came to my small apartment on Turkey Hill Road, and we had a long conversation about theater. He helped me get started with our first production later that year. It was also at Long Lots, on the stage in the gym. It was more of a theater revue – not really a play.

The move to North Avenue changed everything. There was no high school in the state that I knew of with a theater program. Most were like Staples – they had a senior class play, with a faculty advisor who got dragooned into it. They were awful plays, but the kids loved them.

I told the kids we’d start a theater program, and they chose You Can’t Take it With You from play books. It was an intimate comedy. I had no production director, so I did that too. I had no idea how to mount it, how to bring it down on a stage that large. I did very well from an acting point of view, but as a production director I stunk. The set was much too large, so the play lost its intimacy. And it was pink, so it looked even bigger. We put it on for one weekend, and were very glad to get an audience both nights. But people thought the show was fine.

Lu Villalon was the editor of the Town Crier, and his son Andy happened to star in that production. His sister Ann was in plays too. Lu reviewed the shows for the Town Crier under the name “Robin Goodfellow,” and that stirred a lot of interest in theater at Staples.

The next year we did two major productions. The Teahouse of the August Moon was very successful. It ran for two weekends. People from the New England Theatre contest came, and it won a New England award. It also won the Connecticut Drama Festival award, so we started with a bang. That created lots of interest and excitement in the theater program too. And the local papers were great . They gave us full pages of coverage, with photos for every show.

We had a lot of support from Stan, from superintendent Gerry Rast and the Board of Education. Gerry was a musician – he played the organ – and his wife was too. They were very arts-oriented people. He wanted a theater program comparable to the music program that was already established, and I was his man to do that.

All the administrators I worked for supported what I was doing. Stan, Jim Calkins, Gerry, Gordon Peterkin – without their support, I would have been dead. They all saw the value in what we were doing, and they were all there at our performances. They were very loyal supporters – and it was not just lip service. The community and the Board of Education really made a difference too.

Anything I asked for, I got – including release time from the classroom. That was almost unheard of. By my third year my teaching load had been reduced by half. I had two English classes, and one Play Production. The next year I had only theater classes. They got so big, Floren Harper was hired to help teach them too. She came from Andrew Warde High School in Fairfield, and she worked so well with movement and dance.

Craig Matheson (right) and technical director Steven Gilbert.

Craig Matheson (right) and technical director Steven Gilbert.

At that time, I don’t think any Connecticut high school had play production classes. I team-taught with Stephen Gilbert. He was an art teacher with a great interest in theater – a very talented guy. He taught stage design, costuming and makeup.

Steve was so important to the high school. He was a young man with a great sense of color and lighting and costumes. He got kids so excited about projects. He was like a magnet. He had more kids on his technical staff than I had on stage. They always worked so hard. He was a godsend to the program.

Steve and Floren and I were such a team. There was no intrigue. We all had a sense of humor, and we loved the kids.

We also had help from Liza Chapman Heath, a skilled actress who did workshops with us. And Ian Martin, a theater writer and actor, would come speak to the kids about theater opportunities.

Hal James, the Broadway producer, was wonderful. His daughter Melody was in our program – so were his sons Beau and Mike, but she was the most talented of the three. He saw the potential of our program, and what needed to be done. He saw the stage needed work, and through his influence we got Ralph Alswang – a Broadway theater designer – to cut holes in the side panel to mount stage lights. Originally, we could only light the tops of heads.

Ralph became the consultant for redoing that monstrous auditorium building. We’ve had three renovations since, and now it’s what I envisioned 40 years ago – it’s got a green room, a dressing room, a large stagecraft area, and a new lighting board.

The program grew because of the reputation it began to get for excellence. We won five consecutive first-place awards in the Connecticut Drama Festival, and two New England Theatre awards. Audiences grew – from 400 that first weekend in 1958, to over 5,000 for War and Pieces. We toured 14 high schools and six colleges with that show.

At Staples Players' 50th anniversary celebration in 2008, Craig Matheson (right) reunited with Peter Hirst (left), who played Everyman in the 1967 production of "War and Pieces." They worked with then-current Player Adam Bangser, who reprised that role.  (Photo by Kerry Long)

At Staples Players’ 50th anniversary celebration in 2008, Craig Matheson (right) reunited with Peter Hirst (left), who played Everyman in the 1967 production of “War and Pieces.” They worked with then-current Player Adam Bangser, who reprised that role. (Photo by Kerry Long)

Kids saw that theater was fun. They got recognition from audiences. Sports had always been big at Staples, and I wanted athletes to be in theater too. [Choreographer] Joanne De Bergh was wonderful working with the guys. So was Bambi Lynn, who played Alice on Broadway and did our choreography for Alice in Wonderland.

We had a number of significant plays. Peter Pan was an absolutely delightful show. It was the first year we got Saugatuck families involved. Antoinette Sarno – the barber’s daughter — was Peter. She was marvelous. She’s now a theater teacher.

The Foys of New York, who did the flying for the original show, came to help us with the staging. The town turned out in force to see it. They were so excited to see Antoinette fly around the stage. But that flying required a lot of sophistication. Five kids flew, and no one hit anyone else. After the fifth show, I was so thankful no one got hurt. It was high risk. The Foys showed us how to do it, but the football players backstage did all the pulling. It was aerial ballet, comparable to Broadway.

We didn’t enter the Connecticut Drama Festival that year. We were too far beyond the other schools. So we hosted it, and while the judges were deciding the winners the final night, we performed it for the rest of the audience.

We had a few flops. The Madwoman of Chaillot was much too difficult. That was a bad decision on my part.

Today they do musicals. The cooperation between drama, music and art is wonderful. Some of the people I worked with were more guarded about their areas. I always had to fight to get time on stage.

When I moved into administration, it was at the request of [principal] Jim Calkins. I didn’t want to, but with three kids the money was attractive. I’ve regretted it the rest of my life.

Then I got an offer from Darien to head the drama department. And then when they asked me to be an administrator there, I did the same thing again. I made the same mistake twice!

But it was so nice a few years ago to be asked to go to the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh with Judy Luster, Dave Roth and Joanne Kahn. I absolutely loved it. It was so nice to be asked, and to sort of tie things back to the beginning of Staples Players.

At Staples Players' 50th anniversary celebration in 2008, director David Roth (right) announced that the Black Box Theater would be named in honor of Players' founder, Craig Matheson (left).  (Photo by Kerry Long)

At Staples Players’ 50th anniversary celebration in 2008, director David Roth (right) announced that the Black Box Theater would be named in honor of Players’ founder, Craig Matheson (left). (Photo by Kerry Long)

Al Pia was a great find as a director, and of course [current director] David Roth was Al’s student. It’s almost incestuous. All of us, including [former director] Judy Luster, have influenced each other for almost 50 years.

The theater program is the lifeblood of that high school. I never miss a performance. It’s made such a difference in people’s lives. One night I was watching TV, and I saw seven kids who have come through the program. Being able to instill love for an art form has been inspirational – that’s what it’s all about for me.

Belta’s Farm: Bayberry’s Hidden Bounty

Bayberry Lane is like many Westport streets. There’s a mix of homes: handsome converted barns; stately Colonials; 1950s split-levels; modern, multi-gabled McMansions.

Nothing — not a sign or a peek through the trees — indicates that the driveway at #128 leads to a 28-acre farm.

It could be Westport’s best-kept secret: There’s a working farm a few yards from the intersection of Bayberry Lane and Cross Highway.

An aerial view of Belta's Farm from several years ago shows fields, greenhouses, a compost pile (near the top), and two homes (bottom).

An aerial view of Belta’s Farm from several years ago shows fields, nurseries, a compost pile (near the top), and two homes (bottom).

Four generations of Beltas — the farm’s founding family — live there. Dina is the widow of Jimmy Belta, who first farmed the land in 1946. Greg is her son. His children and grandchildren are there too.

How much longer, though, is uncertain.

The other day Greg took time out from his 7-days-a-week, 1-man farming operation to talk about Belta’s Farm. He was joined by his sister Connie. (There’s a 3rd brother, also named Jimmy; a 4th sibling died not long ago.)

Connie and Greg Belta, in the field.

Connie Caruso and Greg Belta, in the field.

Greg and Connie are very proud of the farm. It’s one of the few remaining in Westport. (Others include 10 acres owned by the Stahurskys on North Maple; the 12-acre Kowalsky farm on South Turkey Hill, and 17 acres not far away on Bayberry, formerly owned by the Pabst family and now worked by recent college grads.)

Jimmy Belta’s parents had a small truck farm in Norwalk. After being discharged from his World War II service, James found the Bayberry Lane site, thanks to Leo Nevas. The Westport attorney also helped Jimmy buy the place from Evelyn Gosnell, a silent film star who raised potatoes there.

For several decades, it thrived. Jimmy raised tens of thousands of chickens and turkeys. He had a slaughterhouse in back.

The greenhouse and outbuildings, today.

Nurseries and outbuildings, today.

In the 1960s he joined forces with Stew Leonard’s. Jimmy supplied the store with a ton of tomatoes — a day. They were prominently displayed, as the product of a local farmer.

“That consumed the farm,” Greg says.

Jimmy also grew basil, garlic and flowers. But in 2005 — slowing down a bit — he closed the wholesale business.

An easel tells CSA customers what to pick up each week.

An easel tells CSA customers what to pick up each week.

Today, Greg — who graduated from Staples in 1967, 2 years after Connie — runs the farm primarily as a CSA (community-supported agriculture). 80 families pay $500 a year for the right to pick up a variety of produce each week.

The crate is always different. Greg grows eggplant, cantaloupes, peppers, carrots, kale, lettuce, radishes, onions, beets, arugula, mint, basil and flowers — and much more. His 125 chickens lay plenty of eggs.

Greg’s daughters help run the CSA. But both are teachers — not full-time farmers.

The retail business continues, in a way. Every Friday and Saturday (10 a.m. to 3 p.m.), the Beltas pitch a tent on Bayberry Lane. They sell fresh vegetables, eggs, preserves and the like from Belta’s Farm Stand.

Belta's Farm Stand -- open Fridays and Saturdays, from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.

Belta’s Farm Stand — open Fridays and Saturdays, from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.

As sustainable a farmer as Greg is though, he’s not sure how much longer he can sustain Belta’s Farm.

His father died in early 2012, age 88. He farmed to the end.

Greg is trying to make a go of it himself. It’s not easy.

The land includes 18 tillable acres. The soil is “fantastic,” Greg says. (When the Community Garden began near Long Lots School, Jimmy donated soil for it.) There is room for fruit trees, and animal pens.

“It’s rich in every bounty,” Greg says. “It has great potential.”

But, he adds, “Farming takes a lot of hard work.”

A few of the 125 chickens at Belta's Farm.

A few of the 125 chickens at Belta’s Farm.

Greg and Connie would hate to see the topsoil lost, the land plundered. It’s zoned for 2-acre housing; if it were sold as a farm, or for some other non-residential use, it would have to be as an entire piece.

The future of Belta’s Farm is uncertain.

Meanwhile, Greg puts his shovel in the ground every day. By himself.

On a farm that’s been here — and in his family — for nearly 70 years.

And which most Westporters have no idea even exists.