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In the summer of 1985, I was 26 and looking for a new career. I had been working as a radio personality for various Vermont and New Hampshire stations and realized there was a true sea change happening in local broadcasting. “Video Killed The Radio Star” was the song of the day and I was starting to feel as if I was about to become a casualty.
I was happy working in small stations locally, but the little stations were being bought up by big companies and it looked like, if I wanted to continue to work in radio, I would need to move to a more urban locale. I hated that idea. So, I started looking for a way to be able to stay here, on our farm in, and still make a living.
For those of you unfamiliar with things in South Woodstock 40 years ago… no one here really took credit cards. We barely had television. Dial up internet was just being introduced... in other places. The Kedron Valley Inn was open from May through December and the new owners were trying to figure out if it would work to be open full-time. Gray Perkins owned the store, and it was all about beer and cigarettes and not much more. Green Mountain Horse Association was the only real draw for the village, unless someone booked a wedding at the Inn. And the only new thing in town was Paul Kendall’s retirement passion project guiding inn to inn trail rides throughout the area. There were a couple of seasonal B&B’s, a mechanic and not much else.
There were two local tack shops. Shirley Fenner ran a small, part-time shop out of her barn at the foot of Long Hill with clothing and supplies to service the local riders including kids and Pony Club clinic. Ruth Ferguson’s Folding Hills was halfway to Woodstock and carried primarily tack. At 75, she was ready to retire. I had asked if she wanted to sell and she told me she had already arranged a sale to a couple I knew and they really were a great choice to continue the shop. I started looking for other options until, toward the end of the summer, Ruth rang me to say the sale had sadly fallen through and asked if I was still interested.
I was still almost a kid but I loved the horse community, and I could think of a lot worse ways to make a living. I decided to give it a shot. Ruth had run the shop out of her home so I figured I could do that. And it was great for a while. But by the middle of the winter, I couldn’t walk across my living room. I started weighing my options. On January 29th, 1986, my 27th birthday, Mom and I signed the purchase agreement for the Woodstock Country School property and went to work figuring out how to run a real business.
Since our first day of business was September,7th, 1985 up at my house, we have always considered that our anniversary. It was chosen because Ruth wanted to service one more 100 Mile Ride and say goodbye. This year marks 40 years since I invited Ruth and all her customers for Mom’s Rum Cake and Punch in the shop over my garage to celebrate our first day. It was bittersweet as she had sold me my first saddle and probably done the same for most of the folks in the room. But I was young and determined with my whole future ahead of me. A lot happens in 40 years.
Believe it or not, in spite of the roller coaster economy, the enormous changes in retailing and marketing, the totally unexpected natural disasters and the recent years of health struggles. I have never really regretted doing this for one day. It has been harder than I ever thought it would be, and I have sacrificed more than I ever thought I would have to. But I got so much in return. Time close to my Mom. Wonderful friends. The opportunity to follow my passion and breed some amazing horses. I married the love of my life, and we became partners in every sense of the word. I got to write about this village, a true to life Brigadoon. In fact, I've had the opportunity to write about anything I wanted to write about. And the opportunity to be part of something most people never get, one true community for my entire life… so far, as they say.
And here we are… 40 years later.
I am older than I ever thought I would be. I have so many things on my agenda that need my attention that I can only pray I will get to them all. But there is still so much I would like to do. God willin’ and the creek don’t rise I will live long enough to get to do some of those things. But if I don’t, I have been so very lucky to be here for the last 40 years. And it is the people around me who have made it all worthwhile. Those years with my Mom I might easily have missed. Friends, customers, employees and random travelers I have been privileged to meet and spend time with. All part of my real life. I always tell people that this is where I have made all my mistakes, tried to fix them and been forgiven for many. But I'm not done yet and I'm still hoping to fix a few more before I'm finished.
When we buried my Mom in the spring of 2015, I was allowed to write and offer her burial service. She always loved it when I stood up and talked so I truly wanted this opportunity. And when it was over I read the lyrics to a song that I knew my Mom would have loved because they embodied her wishes for me. So… I offer the same words to you in hopes that we all get a chance to fill a few more blank pages, make and fix a few more mistakes, let the sun illuminate our lives and feel the rain on our skin. So much love to all, LHS
Unwritten by Natasha Beddingfield
I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance. So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions. Feel the rain on your skin.
No one else can feel it for you. Only you can let it in.
No one else, no one else. Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken. Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins. The rest is still unwritten
I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance. So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions. Feel the rain on your skin.
No one else can feel it for you. Only you can let it in.
No one else, no one else. Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken. Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins.
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
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