The phone system owned by the Haskins was a party line. Having grown up in Manhattan I had no idea what that meant (I was 19 & newly married to David) and it took me almost a year before I realized everyone on Rt. 17 could & did listen in. Ulla’s number was 6 ring 4. Meaning I think there were 6 people on the line and our special number was 4 short rings. At the time there were very few outsiders ……Ulla Lodge, Birchluff, The Mad River Barn & people who rented rooms during high season & holidays. Allen Clark was one. Don’t remember if Tucker Hill was a commercial enterprise at the time. There was no time to make friends then as we all worked like crazy.
Mad River Glen at the time was the only game in town. It had the Practice Slope with a rope tow. Now an FIS course, I think. It petrified me forever. Never having skied, its steepness and the fact that I was pregnant also petrified me. So, my skiing stayed at beginner level forever. Of course, skis then were wood, with soft leather boots, and at 5’3” they were carefully measured for me at 6’3”.
Mad River had a wonderful cook at the Basebox. Tex made THE best grilled cheese & bacon ever along with other delicious comfort foods. At the time there was only the single chair with blankets that did nothing to keep one warm. The ski school was run by Bud Phillips, and his main instructors were Trodd Fortna (married to Lixie of Sugarbush fame) and Don Powers who apparently was popular with the ladies. Now & then the ski school would put on skits at night in an unheated little building. It was very popular as there was no other entertainment to be found. A mop on the head was a favorite prop. You get the idea.
The village was Waitsfield. Bisbee’s was where Peasant restaurant is now. It had a potbellied stove with a bunch of old geezers always sitting around it, who turned around & stared at me when I came in. Very uncomfortable… We had a drugstore, Seivwright’s, up the street. The great unsung heroes of the Valley who have been forgotten to my distress were Dr. Shepard Quimby and his wife, Margaret. The nearest medical help beyond him was in Montpelier, over bad roads with no ambulances.
Dr. Quimby was a dermatologist who retired to the Valley. Needless to say, the poor guy was pressed into service non-stop. Things were pretty gruesome in those days… ghastly lumbering, or farming accidents, sick babies, the usual illnesses etc. He made house calls too. His house is now the Senior Center if my memory is right.
He and Margaret saved many lives and worked like Trojans. And I am sure he didn’t get paid half the time as the whole area was poverty stricken. Most of the buildings lacked paint. The great source of meat was venison and everyone hunted to put meat aside for the winter. I had babysitters whom I had to teach about running water, sinks & toilets, etc.
One moment stands out in my mind as it made me feel sort of finally accepted over the years. Mert Kingsbury had a small grocery, the Red & White, at the intersection of 17 & 100. I ran in one evening and Mert invited me into the meat locker. I didn’t want to offend him, so I followed him. There was a bench in there occupied by several of his buddies (Vermonters are a hardy lot). I was invited to sit and partake of a bottle being passed around containing homemade firewater. No one bothered wiping the bottle so I didn’t either. No one ever got sick to my knowledge. As I said they are a hardy lot! Actually, I was flattered out of my mind!
The main route from NYC & Boston was Rt. 100 through Granville Gulf. No one I knew ventured Roxbury Gap. I don’t even know if there was a road over it. Granville was terrifying. No pavement & no gravel. During one mud season David & I went through it in our 4-wheel drive (Warn Hubs!) Jeep which sank up to the top of its fenders. A truck pulled us out.
The roads, even paved ones, were scary. No grading and lots of curves. Lots & lots of snow in those days. And cold. One winter our water froze at the brown house on Butternut (no name in those days). It turned out our pump was below our parking lot which of course we plowed. No insulation! We hired Jack hammers… nothing penetrated. We melted snow for cooking and surfaced at every friend’s house we knew, with 3 children for showers the rest of the winter. Can’t remember what we did for laundry.
An old man arrived at our door and asked if he could trap on the other side of the river for mink and raccoon. That fall he presented me with a skinned raccoon as a thank you. To tell the truth I was horrified & had no idea what to do with it. We ended up having friends for a wildlife dinner — raccoon, venison, a suckling pig a farmer stuffed into our mailbox, duck, etc. I didn’t eat any.
— Patty Slingluff
