In Barton: Shooting strikes the heart of two communities

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Carlton Bickford of Glover pled innocent to first-degree murder in the shooting death on Friday of Rachel Coburn of Barton.  Photo by Joseph Gresser

Carlton Bickford of Glover pled innocent to first-degree murder in the shooting death on Friday of Rachel Coburn of Barton. Photo by Joseph Gresser

by Tena Starr

NEWPORT — Carlton Bickford, 76, a retired electrician and well-liked longtime Glover resident, shambled into court in shackles Monday and pled innocent to first-degree murder in the shooting death on Friday of 72-year-old Rachel Coburn of Barton, who Mr. Bickford told police was his “girlfriend.”

Mr. Bickford, who has health and hearing problems, could not initially hear the court proceedings, and arrangements were made for a hearing device before the arraignment continued.

He will be held without bail, although public defender Jill Jourdan argued that he has a wife at home, children in the community, no prior criminal record and should be released on strict conditions and a $100,000 bond with $10,000 down.

The evidence of guilt is great, Judge Howard VanBenthuysen said as he ordered Mr. Bickford to return to prison in St. Johnsbury, where he will be held pending resolution of a case that has flatly shocked all those who know the accused and the victim.

What Mr. Bickford told police about what happened on Friday, the day of the shooting, is sometimes confused.  More than once he allegedly said he was worried that Ms. Coburn wanted to end their relationship, and if he couldn’t have her no one would.  He also said he feared Ms. Coburn would turn him in to police for threatening her, or for attempted murder, although he did not explain why she would accuse him of the latter.

He said there had never been violence between the two until that day.

Ms. Coburn, 72, worked in the cafeteria at Lake Region Union High School for about ten years.  Before that, she and her late husband, Lewis, owned Barton Cleaners until 2002 when it closed.  She’s described as a happy, hard-working, young-at-heart person.

“She was a really warm and friendly woman,” said Nicole Libby, Lake Region’s food service manager.  “She always had that smile on her face.  She was looking to try to make people happy.  She was a very thorough worker, and she had a wonderful, close relationship with a lot of the students.  A lot of the kids are really devastated by this.  She had a way of connecting with kids.

“Everybody is just floored,” Ms. Libby said.  “I had a great time working with her.  It just isn’t real.  She was one of those happy people; she just wanted to live life.”

Mr. Bickford turned himself in to the Lyndonville Police Department Friday afternoon, allegedly saying he had just killed his girlfriend with a shotgun following an argument.  He said he had then tried to kill himself, but only managed to graze his shoulder.  He allegedly told police they would find Ms. Coburn’s body in her house, along with two bullet holes in the ceiling from his unsuccessful attempt to shoot himself.

Both the accused and the victim have an extensive network of friends and family that is intertwined, and that has contributed to the grief and bafflement that follows the tragedy.

“It’s totally unbelievable,” said Butch Currier of Glover, who has been friends with Mr. Bickford since the 1960s.  “I’m just dumfounded.  I don’t know why, and everybody else is wracking their brain trying to think of some reason why.  I even woke up the next morning and wondered if I’d had a bad dream.  I didn’t believe it.”

Mr. Currier said he has sugared with Mr. Bickford for 20 years.  “He did all my boiling for me.  We’ve done a lot together, fished, rabbit hunted, owned property together.  I just can’t say anything bad about him.  He was always funny, always doing something to make you laugh.”

The killing was doubly painful for Mr. Currier.  Rachel Coburn was his aunt.

“Again, you can’t get anybody to say anything bad about Rachel,” Mr. Currier said.  “She was happy go lucky.  She had four kids, loved her kids, her grandkids.”

State Police Detective Sergeant David Petersen’s affidavit describes a confused and distraught man who had been crying when he showed up at the Lyndonville Police Department Friday afternoon.  It also describes an extramarital relationship that started about four years ago when Mr. Bickford was doing some electrical work for Ms. Coburn.

The relationship, which Mr. Bickford said was nonsexual and “the least of what he wanted” when it started, was apparently on the rocks and went very wrong earlier on Friday.

Shortly after Mr. Bickford showed up at the Lyndonville Police Department, Officer Brandon Thrailkill notified State Police.  Mr. Bickford allegedly told Detective Petersen that he would find Ms. Coburn’s body in her West Street home in the hallway near the cellar stairs.

“…he started to tear up and said it was the dumbest thing he had ever done in his life,” the detective’s affidavit says.

Mr. Bickford said he’d had an argument Friday morning with Ms. Coburn, with whom he’d had a romantic relationship that his wife and son were aware of.  He said the two mostly drank coffee and played cribbage.  His wife had talked to Ms. Coburn about the trouble the relationship was causing.

Rachel Coburn.

Rachel Coburn.

He’d gone to Ms. Coburn’s about 8:30 Friday morning with his usual coffee and newspaper.  An argument had ensued, but he said he thought he could work things out.  A couple of hours later he left, thinking he could “think it over and keep things clear in his mind,” court records say.

When police asked if the argument was about ending the relationship, Mr. Bickford was initially vague, saying he did not think so, but perhaps Ms. Coburn had.  Later, he indicated that his distress was due, in part, to her wish to stop seeing him, the affidavit says.

He returned later that morning with a 12 gauge double barreled shotgun, which he told police he’d taken from his son’s house so his wife would not see him taking a gun from their own house.  When police interviewed Mr. Bickford’s wife, Mary Jane, she said that the guns at their house were locked up, and she had hidden the key.

Mr. Bickford apparently made no bones about the threat of violence when he returned to Ms. Coburn’s house that morning.  He said he loaded the gun in the driveway and put it on the stove while the two continued to talk.

“When asked if he made any threats to use the gun, C. Bickford remarked something to the effect of ‘I don’t know; I probably did to the point of if I couldn’t have her nobody’s ever,’” Detective Petersen’s affidavit says.

Mr. Bickford also told police he believed Ms. Coburn was going to turn him in for attempted murder and suggested he had no alternative but to kill her, Detective Petersen’s affidavit says.

In the midst of the couple’s second conversation that morning, the phone rang.  Mr. Bickford told Ms. Coburn not to answer, but when she made a dash for it, “that’s when I shot her,” he allegedly told police.

He did not want Ms. Coburn to answer the phone because “she was going to seek help,” court records say.

“She tried to get by me once to get out the door and I wouldn’t let her and then when the phone rung I just told her don’t answer the phone,” Mr. Bickford allegedly told police.  “Visit with me.  And she made one wild dash to go to the phone.  I guess that was it.”

“No, I didn’t intend to kill her,” he said, according to the affidavit.  “But when she started threatening me with having me arrested and all of that, I don’t know, I didn’t have much choice.”

He told police that when he returned with the gun, “I didn’t know just what was going to happen, but I wanted to be in control.”

He allegedly told Detective Petersen that he had “nothing to gain from shooting Coburn and should have walked away from the whole setup.”

Mr. Bickford said he believed he shot Ms. Coburn in the abdomen and chest area from a distance of ten or 15 feet, and he did not check on her after shooting her because he knew she was dead, Detective Petersen’s affidavit says.

A babysitter at a neighbor’s house that day told police she heard two loud bangs, but did not see anything or anyone.  She said it sounded like someone was moving furniture.

Mr. Bickford told police that, at first, he had no intention of using the shotgun, but said that Ms. Coburn “ran her mouth about me using her the way I had been using her, and she was probably correct.”  He said he believed Ms. Coburn would find a way to “put him away for threatening her.”

“The lady’s dead.  I shot her and I’m guilty as hell,” he told Detective Petersen, according to the affidavit.

In a later interview that evening, Mr. Bickford told police Ms. Coburn had told him he could “get out.”

“He further noted, upon returning to Coburn’s house he told Coburn if I couldn’t have her nobody was going to,” Detective Petersen’s affidavit says.

“I was 100 percent wrong,” he told police.

Mr. Bickford frequently expressed remorse as he talked to police.  At one point, he said he would do anything to bring Ms. Coburn back, “but it was too late.”

“C. Bickford remarked he had more problems now than he did before,” Detective Petersen’s affidavit says.  It goes on to say that Mr. Bickford said he “wished he could go back and change the past.”

After the shooting, Mr. Bickford told police, he drove around Orleans and Caledonia counties for a while then went to the village office in Lyndonville, which he believed was the police station.  There he was given directions to the police station, where he turned himself in.

The murder has pretty much consumed the thoughts of many who knew the two.

“When I saw it on Facebook, I thought it was a hoax,” said Sue Squires of Glover.  “My mouth started getting wide open.  I’ve known Carlton all my life.  I don’t understand it.  He’d help you out in any way he could.”

“When you think of Carlton, you think of Carlton as a joker and with a smile on his face,” said Sharon Bickford.  “It’s such a tragedy.  You just sit here in a whirlwind trying to make something of it.

“I’ve known Rachel all my life,” Mrs. Bickford said.  “She was a nice lady, very friendly, cordial, always had a smile on her face, very personable.  She just loved life.  For everybody that knew both of them it’s an awful shock, for the whole community.”

Family and friends are simply trying to process the tragedy, Mrs. Bickford said.  “Never in a dog’s age, never, that’s not him,” she said about the charge against Mr. Bickford.

“What to hell happened?” Mr. Currier said.  “Chances are I’ll never see Carlton again.  Without a doubt I won’t.”

He said he wonders if the multiple medications Mr. Bickford took for a variety of health problems may have affected him.

Conviction on a first-degree murder charge carries a sentence of 35 years to life.

Mr. Bickford was denied the services of a public defender.  Judge VanBenthuysen said that because of his assets and income, he would have to retain an attorney himself.

contact Tena Starr at tenas@bartonchronicle.com

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Sodden skies torment farmers

A horse grazes on what’s left of its pasture, along Elm Street in Barton, just as Tuesday’s downpour subsides.  Photo by Chris Braithwaite

A horse grazes on what’s left of its pasture, along Elm Street in Barton, just as Tuesday’s downpour subsides. Photo by Chris Braithwaite

by Tena Starr

“It’s kind of a nightmare.”

That’s how Brandon Tanner of Glover described this summer’s weather and his own efforts to put in hay for his dairy cows.

“It’s one of those things where you’re forced this year to get what you can get when you can get it,” Mr. Tanner said.  “There’s no planning, no helping other people.  It’s sort of you do yours when you can do it the best you can.”

He said he managed to get his first cut, as usual, back in May.

“Soon as I got done haying we had a snowstorm,” he said.

Mr. Tanner isn’t alone in his frustration with this year’s odd weather and, lately, relentless rain.

Farmers, strawberry growers, boaters, anyone who enjoys a day at the beach — they’re all likely to say “Enough already.”

Although Mother Nature isn’t.

There’s some hope that by the end of the week the stubborn weather pattern will break down, permitting a couple of consecutive rain-free days by the weekend, said meteorologist Lawrence Hayes at the Fairbanks Museum in St. Johnsbury.

The problem, he said, is that Vermont has been stuck in between two upper level features involving a serpentine jet stream that moves northward.  The sources of its air is the Gulf of Mexico and the southeast coast, hence the subtropical air in Vermont.

Also, “the air has been so copiously humid (dew points around 70) that any shower that forms is risk of generating at least moderately heavy rain,” Mr. Hayes said by e-mail.

The result of all this has been a lot more rain than usual, as well as more rainy days, in both May and June.

According to the Chronicle’s weather records (which record weather in West Glover) precipitation in May was 7.88 inches — almost double the long-term average of 4.03 inches, and exceeded only in May of 2011.  It also snowed in May.  The Chronicle’s weather records go back to 1987.

In June, there was some rain in West Glover on 21 out of 30 days.  It added up to 6.23 inches, well above the long-term average for June of 4.14 inches.

In St. Johnsbury the 14-day stretch of measurable rainfall from June 23 to July 7 was the longest consecutive day stretch there during the warm weather season, meaning May through October, Mr. Hayes said.

For most, the soggy weather is simply an annoyance.  But for some, it has economic consequences, as well.

Peak View Berry Farm in Orleans doesn’t have any strawberries at all this year, although it’s not due to the wet weather that’s plagued so many strawberry growers in Vermont.

“We lost our strawberries in January when the thaw came and then it got so cold in February,” said Michelle Bonin, who owns the farm with her husband, Marcel.  “The thaw literally pushed all of our plants out of the ground.  That was something we’d never seen.”

The Bonins have since put in 13,000 new plants and are hoping to have a crop from the ever bearers in October.  But even tending the new plants is tough with the wet weather.

“A few days ago I wanted to cultivate my strawberries and couldn’t because of the mud,” Marcel Bonin said.  “The ground is saturated.  I’d have a mess.”

In Westfield, Gerard Croizet at Berry Creek Farm said he’s lost 20 to 25 percent of his strawberries to the weather, mold in particular.

The berries are big, although softer than usual, and the yield has been good, he said.

It could be a lot worse, though, Mr. Croizet said.  “I know some people lost most everything.”

“I’m not depressed,” he added.

Both the Croizets and the Bonins grow vegetables as well as berries, and say that weeding is a big problem with their fields so wet.  And while some crops are doing well in the subtropical weather, others are struggling.

Mr. Croizet said he’s worried about disease at this point, particularly late blight, which might make an early appearance due to the moisture.

“I don’t remember nonstop rain like that,” he said.

“I think it’s extraordinary, I think it’s quite dramatic for the whole area,” Mr. Bonin said about the unusually long stretch of rainy days.

He said his Orleans farm stand is usually open by the last week in June.  It’s not this year.  “I don’t have anything to put in it,” Mr. Bonin said.

For dairy farmers, the persistent rain not only makes it hard to make any hay, but also the quality suffers.

Most farmers make round bales these days — those plastic wrapped bales that resemble giant marshmallows.  It takes a comparatively short stretch of dry weather to make a round bale as opposed to a square one, but this summer has daunted even those attempts.

It takes at least a couple of days to “put up something that’s not going to be an ice cube,” Mr. Tanner said.

If the hay is too wet, it will be frozen solid come winter when the farmer wants to feed it to his animals, he said.

That’s one problem.  Another is that some fields are so wet farmers can’t even get on them to hay.

And yet another is that grass, especially orchard grass, declines in quality — meaning it loses protein — once it begins to head out.

“You can always supplement grains in order to make up what you lost on your grass, but especially the past three years, that’s been sort of unaffordable,” Mr. Tanner said.

He said that last year, a classic summer, he squeezed in five cuts of hay.  “This year, so far, I’ve done one.  I’ll be lucky if I get three.”

Evan Perron isn’t overly worried about the weather, even though he’s one of the few who still makes square bales.

“The hay I cut will be just fine, for horses, ponies, sheep, it will still be 10-12 percent…it’s nothing you could turn into milk and survive,” he said.

Mr. Perron said that when he was a kid it was common to wait until after July 4 to start haying.  “There was a time we might not have thought much of it,” he said about the long rainy stretch.  “We’d just be a week late.”

But now that people try to get 20 or 30 percent protein from their hay, “it’s a pretty big deal,” he said.

“I don’t think I ever recall such a soggy streak as this one.”

contact Tena Starr at tenas@bartonchronicle.com

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Gold panning and bingo help a good cause

Joanne Warner of Green Mountain Prospectors demonstrates how to pan for gold.  Bryce Donahue, who said he's panned for gold dozens of times, looks on.  Photos by Tena Starr

Joanne Warner of Green Mountain Prospectors demonstrates how to pan for gold. Bryce Donahue, who said he’s panned for gold dozens of times, looks on. Photos by Tena Starr

by Tena Starr

WESTFIELD — Terrie Davis-Perry has long supported cancer research, maybe more than most people.  She’s regularly donated to the American Cancer Society and fund-raising events, and she sponsors a Relay for Life team member.  But when the disease hit home last winter with her brother-in-law’s diagnosis of pancreatic cancer, she was inspired to do a little more aggressive fund-raising than she’d done in the past.

So on Saturday, Ms. Davis-Perry and her husband, Mark Perry, put together a special day of events and camping at their Barrewood Campground in Westfield.  Proceeds from the $5 fee ($2 for children) for daytime activities went to Paul Perry for out-of-pocket costs for his treatment: camping fees throughout the weekend — three nights — will go to Relay for Life.

barrewood boy

Five-year-old Ryan Nathan Rice of North Troy was one of the few who decided to go swimming Saturday at Barrewood Campground’s cancer benefit.

Saturday turned out to be a rare sunny day, although the wind was brisk enough to knock over some of the tents that vendors had set up on the big green at the campground to sell jewelry, crafts, baked goods, books, clothing, and other items.  Inside the pavilion, a rousing game of bingo was in progress called by Debbie Lucas, who donated her time, and Mary Lee Daigle was serving a hot lunch.  Pauline Couture of Couture’s Maple was on hand with a variety of maple products, and several members of Green Mountain Prospectors demonstrated how to pan for gold.

There was plenty of interest in that activity — nearly as much as in the bingo game.

The first thing you learn about panning for gold is you’re not likely to get rich.  The second is that it isn’t nearly as easy as it looks when an expert is handling the pans.  My own efforts netted one tiny flake that I might not have recognized were it not for Joanne Warner’s careful eyes, although gold is quite striking and definitely stands out if you know what you’re looking for.

Ms. Warner and Donald and Tracie Cassady were on hand to demonstrate the skill of panning and had small vials of gold, as well as garnets, to show for their own efforts.  Mr. and Ms. Cassady are from New Hampshire and said the river near Littleton is “loaded with garnets,” a deep red, semi-precious gemstone that, like gold, is heavy and settles in the bottom of the pan.

Ms. Warner offered up a small vial of startlingly bright gold flecks that she’d gathered. They were worth about $30 or $40 — not a huge take for a tedious job.

“Most of the gold in Vermont is glacial, you won’t find big nuggets,” Ms. Warner said.  That means glaciers ground the gold down to fine particles, as opposed to out West where actual nuggets are more likely to be found,

These three Green Mountain Prospectors don’t sell the gold they find, although they know some who do.  Foundries will buy it, as well as jewelers and some collectors, they said. The garnets also have some value.

Mark Perry and Terrie Davis-Perry, owners of Barrewood Campground in Westfield, held a special day of activities Saturday to help their brother Paul Perry with out-of-pocket expenses for pancreatic cancer treatment.  Proceeds from camping for three nights went to Relay for Life.

Mark Perry and Terrie Davis-Perry, owners of Barrewood Campground in Westfield, held a special day of activities Saturday to help their brother Paul Perry with out-of-pocket expenses for pancreatic cancer treatment. Proceeds from camping for three nights went to Relay for Life.

At this point, I have to admit that my notes kind of vanished on me because I gave panning a shot under Ms. Warner’s able guidance.  I was decidedly inept and soaked myself and my notebook, ending up with a runny blue blur instead of careful notes.

So — winging it.  We started with a shovel full of material from the bottom of the nearby brook, and Mr. Cassady did a sift to filter out the biggest stones.  Those bigger stones are worth looking at, he said, because there’s lots of quartz among them, and that’s where gold comes from.  But keeping in mind that chunks of gold the size of white quartz aren’t likely to appear in Vermont, the next step is to get to the littler stuff that looks mostly like sand.  And that’s when it gets tricky.

The prospectors used green pans with ridged openings on one side.  The idea is that you mix the sand and its potentially valuable contents with water, then slur it around, constantly dumping off the top layer through the pan’s openings.  You trust that the heavier stuff, the valuable stuff, will stay at the bottom, and what you’re sloughing off is just sand and tiny worthless pebbles.

The equipment is neither complicated nor expensive.  Most any kind of filter works up to a point.  Mr. Cassady said his wife is always telling him to leave her flour sifter alone.

If you’re not too overzealous, or just sloppy, it works.  The heavy stuff does stay in the bottom of the pan, and after a while the dirt changes color.  It darkens as the lighter, and lighter colored, sand goes out the pan’s slots, and what remains is what’s of possible value.  “Tap it, and the gold goes to the bottom,” Ms. Warner advised me.

Pauline Couture of Couture’s Maple in Westfield was on hand at the fund-raiser with a variety of maple products.

Pauline Couture of Couture’s Maple in Westfield was on hand at the fund-raiser with a variety of maple products.

Gold is 19 times heavier than water, someone said as I slopped muddy water all over myself. Trust it.

I sloshed the pan around in the water, then sifted out the sand and did see the color eventually darkening, but it wasn’t easy, and I was clumsy, and I soon appreciated Ms. Warner’s skill.  She said she’d won an award in a panning contest, which didn’t surprise me once I’d tried it myself.  She makes panning look easy.  It isn’t.

At the end, I had one flake of gold.  It didn’t look real, and, nope, I wasn’t going home rich.  Ms. Warner had planted it, and it went back into her vial via a special little bottle that sucked it up and returned it to where it came from.

But there are entirely worse things to do with one’s time than wade around in a brook in the hope of finding gold.

“It’s like fishing,” Ms. Warner said. “You can be out all day and you may not get a fish.  But you enjoy being out there.”

barrewood don

Don Cassady of Green Mountain Prospectors sets up some of the gear used to pan for gold.

Green Mountain Prospectors has members from all over New England, as well as New York State, and many of them are members of a national prospecting club, as well.

Meanwhile, back in the pavilion, my 13-year-old son had settled in with a couple of his great-aunts and was avidly playing bingo.

Bingo used to be a game I understood, but apparently no longer.  There’s still the traditional way of playing, where you win if you get straight hits in a horizontal, vertical, or diagonal line, but there are “specials” I’ve never heard of, like a check mark.  Colton and his great-aunts were each playing eight cards.

The last game was something I’d never heard of, a coverall.  My aunts, being the experienced bingo players they are, knew just what that meant — the winner would be the first person to fill up an entire card.

Prizes for the bingo winners were donated by local businesses and others and included gift certificates, homemade pies, and jewelry.

Later in the day, there was a potluck dinner at the campground, as well as live music, and a bonfire.

contact Tena Starr at tenas@bartonchronicle.com

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Book review: A showcase for Vermont food and farmers

vermont farm table cookbookReviewed by Tena Starr

The Vermont Farm Table Cookbook, 150 Home-Grown Recipes from the Green Mountain State, by Tracey Medeiros.  Photographs by Oliver Parini.  254 pages.  Paperback.  Published by the Countryman Press, Woodstock, Vermont.  $19.95.

This is a cookbook that was just waiting to be written.  Given Vermont’s attention to local food, diversified agriculture, and family farms, the only wonder is that someone didn’t write it earlier.

The Vermont Farm Table combines recipes with short profiles of the farms, breweries, farmers markets, and restaurants the recipes, and many of their ingredients, come from.  It’s also a picture book.  Lots of cookbooks include photographs of food that make your mouth water.  This one does, too, but in addition, it’s a Vermont Life-style photo show of forests, fields, gardens, and farmers.

Predictably, there’s a lot of “brand” ingredients involved here.  For instance, it’s likely possible to make a fine New York strip steak without WhistlePig whiskey, but if it doesn’t turn out to be quite the dish you’d envisioned, you can probably blame the cheap brand of whiskey you used instead of WhistlePig.

It’s about time to say here that I have theories about cookbooks, the main one being that the best cookbooks — the most worn ones on my shelves — tell you how to put together ingredients you’re likely to already have in tasty ways you haven’t thought of before.

To a large extent, this book does that.  The maple-glazed sweet potatoes with walnuts and cumin that we made Thursday night were terrific, easy to prepare and didn’t even require a trip to the store.  The recipe comes from Square Deal Farm in Walden, owned by Sarah Lyons and Ray Lewis, sugarmakers who also raise Pinzgauer cattle and pasture fed pigs.

There are lots of recipes in this book that are as simple and inexpensive:  for instance, asparagus and brown rice from Pomykala Farm; Full Moon Farm’s hearty toasted sandwiches with heirloom tomatoes; Kimball Brook Farm’s hefty corn chowder; Butterworks Farm’s maple cornbread; Longview Farm’s leg of lamb; or the amber ale-braised highland beef chuck roast from Shat Acres in Greensboro Bend.

But be prepared to shop as well as cook if you plan to use this book, which may be part of its purpose.

It also helps to be a gardener.  Some of the simplest recipes rely on ingredients you’ll find at a farmers market, or in your own garden, but probably not at Price Chopper.

For instance, there’s no way that Full Moon Farm’s hearty toasted sandwiches are going to be as tasty without Brandywine tomatoes, which you’re highly unlikely to find in a grocery store, given their relatively short shelf life, odd color, and lumpy shape.  Grocery stores, and the growers who supply them, long ago traded in flavor for longevity and appearance.

But I think it would be fair to assume that a major purpose of this particular cookbook is to introduce local ingredients, as well as their sources, the idea being to reconnect people to good food and where it comes from.

Author Tracey Medeiros is marketing Vermont and its farmers here, but also providing Vermonters themselves with information about where to find fresh, local meat, produce, cheese, fruit, and maple products — and what to do with them.

Not surprisingly, the weakest section of the book is that which deals with seafood, Vermont not being known for its fresh scallops and shrimp.  But the main reason I say that is because the recipes tend to come from restaurants rather than from farmers, and are thus more complicated.

Yes, I would love to make butter poached halibut with forbidden black rice, beet dashi, and fennel salad, but I have no idea where I’d get two fennel bulbs, stalks removed, bulbs trimmed, and a cup of dried shitake mushrooms, as well as two star anise pods.

That recipe comes from a Burlington restaurant, rather than a farmer — a restaurant that’s committed to fresh, local food, but the recipe does not suggest where the ingredients might be found.  Most cooks, outside of chefs, aren’t likely to traverse the state in order to locate what they need for dinner.

Some of the ingredients called for in this book include vanilla bean paste, root of celeriac, hulled hemp seed (isn’t that illegal?), arrowroot, fennel bulbs, and pomegranate molasses.

Like I said, you might have to shop in order to use this cookbook.

As a book about Vermont farmers, it succeeds admirably.  The brief profiles are of people who grow, raise, or prepare Vermont food in all its fresh diversity.  We all know that superior maple products, great apples, a variety of cheeses, and grass fed beef and free range poultry are grown here.  But cranberries?  Rabbit?  Flowers?

As a cookbook, for the most part, it approaches cooking with solid but creative ideas about how to use the wealth of local products that Vermont has to offer.  The Vermont Farm Table is better than many I own and seldom open unless I have a rare day to spend hours in the kitchen.

I can’t wait until the squash crop comes in and we get to prepare grilled coconut delicata squash, or roasted root crops, or winter squash with roasted garlic.

contact Tena Starr at tenas@bartonchronicle.com

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A look at Vermont’s environmental movement

GrenningVTCoverGreening Vermont, The Search for a Sustainable State, by Elizabeth Courtney and Eric Zencey.  Paperback. 173 pages.  Published by Thistle Hill Publications, North Pomfret, Vermont, and the Vermont Natural Resources Council, Montpelier, Vermont.  $35.00

Reviewed by Tena Starr

A book whose main characters are, arguably, Act 250 and I91 might not strike a potential reader as having much promise in the way of being riveting, but Greening Vermont is actually a highly readable book with much insight into what makes Vermont be Vermont.  It’s the story of environmentalism in the Green Mountain State — its successes, its failures, its current goals, its conflicts, and its evolution in the face of shifting challenges.

It’s also, almost accidentally, a modern history of the state, evidence of just how thoroughly Vermont’s character has become entwined with, and often defined by, how its farms, forests and waterways are used and how its towns and cities look and function.

In order to understand environmentalism in Vermont, it’s necessary to go back 150 years to a boy named George Perkins Marsh, who grew up on a farm outside Woodstock and, through his father, began to grasp the relationship between man and nature.  Among other things, he learned about natural watersheds and soil erosion, about their effects as well as their causes.

So says Tom Slayton, former editor of Vermont Life magazine, and author of the forward to Greening Vermont.  Mr. Slayton says that Mr. Marsh went on to be the first to argue that human actions could seriously damage natural systems, and in 1864 he wrote Man and Nature, a tome that warned about the havoc humans could wreak on nature.

Jump ahead to 1958.  It was a chilly Saturday morning in November and a few hundred citizens and officials gathered near Guilford on the Vermont-Massachusetts border.  In the book, grainy black and white photos show a collection of people in overcoats, men in fedoras, waiting to cut the white ribbon stretched across the new, and at the time remarkable, highway.  It’s a scene from another era, in so many ways.

“They were there to mark an important moment in the state’s environmental history — though it’s doubtful that any of the participants would have described what they were doing in those terms,” Ms. Courtney and Mr. Zencey write.  “They had gathered to listen to speeches, witness a bit of ceremony, and then climb in their cars to take an inaugural drive on Vermont’s first stretch of Interstate highway.”

It took just minutes to travel that first small stretch of Interstate.  However, Ms. Courtney and Mr. Zencey suggest the new road was the catalyst that led to rapid change in Vermont, and the need for environmental regulations to protect what isolated Vermonters had come to treasure, if also take for granted.

“The opening of those first few miles of modern roadway signaled the opening, also, of an era of rapid and far-reaching change for the state of Vermont, which had been until then a lightly populated, rural mountain fastness,” the authors say.  “Many of the hallmarks of modern life — television, telephones, even electricity — were not yet fully present in the state.  The engines of twentieth-century progress had largely passed the state by.  It was too remote, its population too sparse, its towns and villages too small to draw much attention.  With the arrival of the Interstate that was about to change very quickly, for the world that held Vermont in a remote and distant corner had suddenly become much smaller.  As one state official put it years later, the highway ‘took us out of the sticks and put us within a day’s drive of eight million people.”

In 1960 Vermont’s population was 389,881 with nearly 77 percent born in the state.  There were 9,400 farms and 258,000 cows.  About 2,624,370 acres were being farmed.  That was the first year that people outnumbered cows in Vermont.

Twenty years later, by 1980, the population was 511,456, with 64 percent born in Vermont.  The number of farms had dropped by nearly half, to 5,890 with 1,537,751 acres in farming.  There were 186,000 cows.

When that first stretch of Interstate was built, “growth and expansion — the easily foreseeable result of the Interstate — were widely embraced,” Ms. Courtney and Mr. Zencey write.  “If change meant jobs, a path out of rural poverty, and lives like those whose images had begun to flicker in (some) Vermont homes through the wonder of television, then change was good.  What wasn’t so easily foreseen was how thoroughly those changes would shape the state, testing its ability to preserve its landscape, its communities, and its character.”

Not everyone welcomed change then, as not everyone does today.  Former Associated Press reporter Chris Graff has told the story of an Ascutney farmer who refused to leave his land to make way for the Interstate.

“Eventually a sheriff arrived with a court order and a cohort of deputies, who set to work dispossessing the old man from the family farm,” Ms. Courtney and Mr. Zencey write, recounting the story.  “They moved tools and harnesses from the outbuildings, working until sunset, intending to return the next morning to finish.  They never got the chance.  That night Tenney’s house and buildings burned to the ground, with him inside.”

Romaine Tenney had said, “I was born here and I’ll die here.”  He was a man of his word.

And then came skiing.

With the introduction of rope tows and lifts in the 1930s, skiing was no longer limited to the hardiest of mountain climbers.  Once skiers had a ride uphill, the sport’s popularity was immense, and the owners of ski areas ceased to be content with what existed.  They used heavy equipment and dynamite to create new trails and reshape mountain slopes to make them more attractive to devotees of this newly mainstream sport.

Opponents of industrial wind on Vermont’s ridgelines will relate to this scenario.  Blasting mountaintops is not so much new as a revisitation of what happened 60 years ago on an even larger scale.   Then, as now, there was debate — roughly framed in the terms of conservationist versus preservationist.

It’s a conversation that would be familiar to anyone who has participated — either pro or con — in the controversy over commercial wind power.  At the time, as today, the mountaintop debate split environmentalists, with conservationists operating under the belief that using resources for the greatest good for the greatest number over the greatest period of time was the wisest use.  That view was at odds with “preservationism,” which held that nature should simply be left to its own devices for all to enjoy.

Ski areas created jobs but also pulled in a flood of newcomers, increasing property values, advanced commercialism, and burdened municipal services.  And at the time, there was no means to deal with the influx, with the billboards, the development, the seasonal homeowners — and the cultural, as well as environmental, changes that resulted.  Vermont went from a “handshake” culture to one that was forced to rely more on law and formally structured exchanges, the book asserts.

“The social cost of that change is difficult to calculate, but a direct measure of its scale can be made in dollars,” the authors write.  “In the late 1940s, skiers spent about five million annually in the state.  By the early 1960s, that figure had risen to well over thirty million, a sixfold increase in a decade and a half.”

Thomas Watson Jr., an avid skier himself, decided in 1957 to locate IBM in Chittenden County to be near his beloved ski areas.  IBM remains the state’s biggest employer.

Vermont’s organized environmental movement was likely established at Goddard College in Plainfield in 1963 where a two-day conference called Natural Resources in Transition was held and the Vermont Natural Resources Council (VNRC) was formed, an all volunteer organization at the time with the goal of shaping public policy through education and “to promote wise use and preservation of natural resources to the benefit of Vermont citizens….”

It was not VNRC, however, that waged war against Vermont’s billboards.  It was a character named Ted Riehle.  This book is populated by many characters Vermonters will admire for their courage, their quirkiness, their bullheadedness, or their idealism.

Mr. Riehle is one of them.  “A lifelong Republican, a fan of both Barry Goldwater and the Grateful Dead, he was a well-connected politico who much preferred the solitude he got as the owner-operator-designer of an off-the-grid sheep farm on an island in Lake Champlain,” the book says.  His son called him “Jimmy Stewart meets John Wayne.”

In 1968, Mr. Riehle somehow convinced his fellow Republicans to support a total ban on roadside commercial advertising.  He also managed to persuade business owners that the ban would be in their long-term best interests — that individual self-interest would bring about loss for all.

That ban is one of Vermont’s hallmarks, as is Act 250, the environmental law that set out to regulate how the state would be developed — not haphazardly, not simply for short-term profit, but with a vision in mind of what Vermont would like to be and look like.

Act 250 has been a heavy lifter toward that end, but nearly 40 years later, even it remains subject to criticism and steady calls for alteration.

It’s 2013 now, and many battles have been fought, Vermont has, for the most part, resisted rampant sprawl.  But challenges continue, in many forms.

“Vermont is not now a sustainable state, but in the effort to achieve that goal, it has a head start,” the authors of this book write.  “How this came to be is the story we have aimed to tell in this book.”

It’s a story they’ve told well, a bit idealistically perhaps, but it’s one that acknowledges many factions in the great and ongoing debate about what Vermont is and will be.

“And what exactly is a sustainable state?” the authors write.  “As with any longed-for object, distance and anticipation shape our expectation, making the destination seem a completely marvelous place.  We’ll recognize the sustainable state as a place where economic and environmental interests are identical, because we’ve shaped the economy to the limits that the planet gives to us and learned our hard lessons about what is and isn’t possible.”

The old challenges are not conquered, and new ones have arisen — climate change, for instance, and commercial wind.  There is no final solution, only a continuing and ever shifting challenge.

This book tells the story of how we got to where we are today, where we’d like to be tomorrow, and offers a bit of advice on how to get there.  Along the way, it recounts conversations with some of the people who have been instrumental in many of those endeavors, tells a remarkable history, and provides some vision for the future.

Elizabeth Courtney served on Vermont’s Environmental Board for a decade, and she was executive director of the Vermont Natural Resources Council for 14 years.  She was a Loeb Fellow at Harvard University and is now an environmental consultant.

Eric Zencey is a Fellow at the Gund Institute for Ecological Economics at the University of Vermont and has held fellowships from the Guggenheim and Rockefeller-Bellagio Foundations.  He writes regularly for the Daly News, a publication of the Center for the Advancement of the steady State Economy.  He is the author of three previous books.

contact Tena Starr at tenas@bartonchronicle.com

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Abenaki buy forest and farmland in Barton

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by Tena Starr

copyright the Chronicle 12-19-2012

BARTON — For the first time in two centuries, an Abenaki tribe in Vermont can claim tribal forestland.  As of Monday, the roughly 1,000-member Nulhegan Abenaki own 65 acres in Barton on the May Farm Road.  Title is held by Abenaki Helping Abenaki, a nonprofit created several years ago to preserve the culture of the Nulhegan Abenaki.

The tribe, which the state of Vermont officially recognized in 2011, has been working on the purchase for more than a year.  The Vermont Land Trust holds a conservation easement on the property to make sure it remains undeveloped.

Tribe members will continue, and ultimately expand, an existing sugaring operation on the land.  It will also be used for a tribal community garden, said Luke Willard of Brownington, former tribe chief and a current trustee who was pivotal in organizing the purchase.

“All Nulhegan Abenaki land has been gone for a long, long time,” Mr. Willard said. “This is the first community-owned piece of land for the tribe in literally over 200 years.  We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do.  This is a really big thing for the leadership and the citizens of the tribe.

“It’s also a big thing for the town of Barton and surrounding communities,” Mr. Willard added.  “The way we’ve set it up the land will be conserved forever.  We’re allowing public access.  We’re not allowing motor vehicles, but foot travel, horseback riding, cross country skiing, bird watching, hiking within reason.  We’re willing to share the woods with folks.”

The land was paid for largely through fund-raising and grants.  Prior owner Eric Lanou sold the development rights to the Vermont Land Trust.

“We worked hard to raise this money,” Mr. Willard said.   “But everybody loved this project.  People wanted this to happen.”

Tribe members plan to sugar on the land this spring, gradually increasing the size of the operation as time goes on, Mr. Willard said.  They’ll do it the old-fashioned way, with buckets rather than tubing.

Eventually, the Nulhegan hope to tap as many as 3,000 or 4,000 trees and to develop their own brand of syrup — not just pure Vermont syrup, which has its own fame, but the first brand of Vermont Abenaki-made syrup.  “This is going to be the first maple syrup produced by an Abenaki tribe in centuries,” Mr. Willard  said.

The sugaring operation will be labor intensive.  “Our intention is to take folks who are unemployed or underemployed and put them to work for the season,” Mr. Willard said.  “It’s going to be done fairly old school.”

Also, he said the tribe will invite schoolchildren to come see how sugaring is done the old-fashioned way.

“And we want to have a small exhibit where folks can actually see how maple sugar was produced prior to Colonialism,” he said.  “It’s very laborious compared to contemporary sugaring.”

Money from the sugaring operation will go to support the tribe’s programs, such as Nulheganaki Youth Outreach, which does presentations about Abenaki history and culture.  When that program first started audiences were tiny, sometimes no more than a half dozen people, Mr. Willard said.  These days presentations are made to much bigger groups of 50 or more people.

“It’s grown incredibly with zero funding,” he said.  “So can you imagine what they could accomplish in that program with $4,000 or $5,000 in revenue generated from sugaring?”

The Nulhegan also operate a program called The Seventh Harvest, which is basically a community garden.

Mr. Willard said it started years ago, largely as a typical food shelf to help the needy.  “We realized we were helping people who were down and out, but we weren’t really empowering them to help themselves,” he said.

By coincidence, a Johnson State College professor took an interest in the Abenaki gardening practices, which were still being used by some.

“He was under the impression that these practices were pretty much extinct,” Mr. Willard said.  “When we realized that was the common belief, we worked with JSC and got a grant from the Lake Champlain Basin Program to study these agricultural technologies.  It became apparent to us that these ancient practices could be extinct in as little as a generation.”

The study, combined with a desire to provide healthier food, led to a community garden at Mr. Willard’s home in Brownington.

That garden will move to a clearing on the Barton land.  It could provide food for 15 or 20 families.

The rules for its use are that growers must learn traditional Abenaki growing practices, if they don’t already know them, and they must agree to pass that knowledge on to someone else in order to keep traditions alive.

The little clearing with its rich soil was one of the reasons the Barton land was so appealing, Mr. Willard said.  “I looked at it, and I saw mound gardens.”

Although the land has practical uses, it also has more symbolic ones as well.

A tribe is not an organization; it’s a body politic, just like a town, Mr. Willard said.  But the Nulhegan have not had a communal meeting place.

“There are Abenakis who own their own land,” he said.  “But we didn’t have a community place to meet like towns do.  We were always borrowing places to meet.  It’s difficult to maintain a government when you don’t have a central place.”

The tribe will use the land to hold meetings, events and celebrations.

“Part of our creation story is that the creator wanted us to be the stewards of the land,” said current chief of the Nulhegan Abenaki, Don Stevens, who takes a more spiritual view of the acquisition.  “After the land was taken from our ancestors, we were no longer able to be the stewards we were asked to be.  Our hearts are heavy with that burden.  With our own forest, we can pick up the soil, feel it, smell it, and know that our ancestors walked on this land and it is ours to protect.  For this land, we’re able to fulfill our promise.”

Gaining official recognition for the tribe, as well as others in Vermont, was a long and contentious process.  Mr. Willard said that was, at least in part, because some believed the tribes would make land claims or try to establish casinos.

Nothing could be further from the truth, he said.  The tribe paid for the Barton property, which it intends to share with everyone.  “Our intentions were always positive.”

contact Tena Starr at tena@bartonchronicle.com

For more free articles from the Chronicle like this one, see our Editor’s Picks pages. For all the Chronicle’s stories, pick up a print copy or subscribe, either for print or digital editions.

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Border Patrol Agents nab two on Derby Road

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U.S. Border Patrol agents and Newport police apprehended two New Hampshire men on the Derby Road in Derby Monday. New Hampshire police sought both men in connection with a shooting in Nashua which it is believed they witnessed. The two were arrested, however, on federal charges unrelated to that shooting, New Hampshire Assistant Attorney General Peter Hinckley said. Photo by Cindy Sanville

by Tena Starr

copyright the Chronicle 12-5-2012

DERBY — U.S. Border Patrol agents and local police arrested two men on the Derby Road here Monday who were wanted in New Hampshire in connection with a shooting in Nashua.

Tuesday night, New Hampshire Assistant Attorney General Peter Hinckley said both men have been arrested on federal charges, one of them regarding charges in Vermont.

He said he is not involved in that prosecution and could not say what the charges are.

As far as the New Hampshire shooting goes, the two men were sought only in connection with their possible role as witnesses, he said.

An adult male, whose name was still being withheld as of Tuesday pending notification of all family members, was shot in Nashua Sunday night, according to a press release from the New Hampshire Attorney General’s Office.  The press release says little more about either the incident, or the victim, who is hospitalized.

“Our agents received a lookout from the Nashua PD,” said Melissa Isaquirre at Vermont Border Patrol headquarters in Swanton Tuesday.

She said that, while on patrol, agents saw a vehicle that matched the description they had received — a 1995 Toyota Avalon — and stopped it.  The two men are Daniel DeGrace, 31, and Benjamin Mayberry, 30.

Mr. Hinckley said both men are being held in Vermont.

Cindy Sanville, a real estate agent with Century 21 Farm and Forest Realty, noticed the growing collection of law enforcement officers outside her work office Monday and went out to snap pictures.  She said that, by the time she arrived, Border Patrol agents, who were carrying guns, had both men on the ground.

“Before I realized what was going on there were six vehicles lined up,” she said referring to law enforcement cars.  She said Border Patrol agents were circling her office building.

Newport Police helped apprehend the men.

contact Tena Starr at tena@bartonchronicle.com

For more free articles from the Chronicle like this one, see our Editor’s Picks pages. For all the Chronicle’s stories, pick up a print copy or subscribe, either for print or digital editions.

 

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Orleans County post offices stand to have hours cut

by Tena Starr

copyright the Chronicle  July 11, 2012

More than a dozen post offices in Orleans County could have their hours cut under a new U.S. Postal Service (USPS) plan to save money.

The Postal Service, which is not taxpayer supported but must make ends meet through the sale of its goods and services, is projecting a loss this year of $14-billion, said spokesman Tom Rizzo.

An earlier plan to bridge deficits like that called for closing over 3,600 postal facilities across the country.  “But when we had community meetings we heard loud and clear that was not going to be a popular move,” Mr. Rizzo said.

The new strategy would leave rural post offices open and retain zip codes, but would slash their hours, many times in half.  It would be implemented over two years, and by the time it was finalized, in September of 2014, it is expected to save a half billion dollars a year, the USPS website says.

In Orleans County, the following post offices would be open four hours a day instead of eight:  Albany, Beebe Plain, Coventry, Craftsbury Common, East Charleston, West Charleston, Greensboro Bend, and Lowell.  The following would be open six hours instead of eight:  Craftsbury, Greensboro, Irasburg, Morgan, Newport Center, and Troy.

The list is preliminary and will likely be reviewed by the Postal Regulatory Commission.  Starting in the fall, community meetings will be held in order to get customer comment, Mr. Rizzo said.

“These are, generally speaking, very small rural post offices,” he said.  “They simply do not have the foot traffic to support them being open as long as they are.”

There are 32,000 post offices in the U.S., Mr. Rizzo said.  Of those, 26,000 don’t meet their expenses, he said.

“When that comes against the fact that the Postal Service is not taxpayer supported, it’s a prescription for disaster, and we’re seeing it this year.  Clearly this is not something we can sustain.”

People are using post offices less and less as they turn to technological methods of paying their bills or communicating, Mr. Rizzo said.

“The public is not using post offices like they used to.  The main thing we’re losing is first-class letters.  That has taken a tremendous hit from technology.  We’re struggling to adapt to a new world.  It’s just a fact of life.”

Unfortunately, the Postal Service is banned by current law from taking some steps it would like to take to save itself from financial ruin, Mr. Rizzo said.

“We would like to be able to go to five-day delivery instead of six-day, but the law says we have to stay open and maintain delivery six days a week.”

A five-day delivery system would also be a more realistic reflection of the use of the mail, he said.

Also, the USPS, unlike any other governmental agency, must set aside $5.5-billion a year for future retirees’ health benefits.  That’s a mandate the USPS would love to be rid of, Mr. Rizzo said.

Until those requirements change, however, the Postal Service must do what it can to cut costs in the face of declining use and burgeoning budget deficits, he said.

Affected communities might opt to have what’s called a “village post office,” basically a retailer who sells stamps, prepaid mailing envelopes, and other goods one might buy at a post office.

“They could do that and not have a post office at all,” Mr. Rizzo said.

Communities will also have a say in what hours they prefer to see their post office remain open, he said.

contact Tena Starr at tena@bartonchronicle.com

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Horse psychic visits Orleans County

Amelia Kinkade in Newport. Photo by Tena Starr

copyright the Chronicle July 5, 2012

by Tena Starr

NEWPORT — It was a sultry Monday afternoon and a thunderstorm was blowing in at Kory Scott’s Bluffside Farm on the Scott Farm Road here.  But Amelia Kinkade had her mind on other things that afternoon, specifically Raine and Louis, two of the horses that board at the farm.

Ms. Kinkade claims to have the ability to communicate with animals, and to teach others how to do the same.  She’s also an actress, a dancer, and the author of two books:  Straight From the Horse’s Mouth:  How to Talk to Animals and Get Answers and The Legacy of Miracles:  A Celebrated Psychic Teaches You to Talk to Animals.

By Monday, she had been in Orleans County for several days at the invitation of Holly Richardson of Derby, who coordinated a two-day workshop for people interested in learning Ms. Kinkade’s methods and communicating with animals themselves.  Ms. Kinkade also worked privately with local animal owners.

She was at Mr. Scott’s farm Monday to work with five horses and their owners.  Her workshop students also attended the session.

Dawn Brainard of Holland owns Raine, a ten-year-old registered paint gelding.  She led the horse to an outside ring where participants sat around in a semi-circle in the grass.

“We are going to ask him if he is in love with another horse,” Ms. Kinkade said.

But first she instructed the group on how to get in the proper frame of mind, the very key to “hearing” what an animal has to say.

“Your mind goes quiet,” she said.  “Be aware of what parts of your body connect to gravity, connect to the Earth.  Feel that anchor of light from your spinal column moving all the way up your body.  There is no thought, no emotion.  No tension.”

Speaking slowly, she urged the group to reach out to the universe in prayer.  “Allow me to be your instrument if the idea of generating that feeling of love is foreign to you.  Think about that animal you love.

“Now you are going to cease to function as a particle and function as a wave.

“Ask this horse, can you show me what you think, what you feel, what you want, what you need?  There’s nothing in your mind except this horse.  No past, no future, nothing but you and this horse.  We are asking this horse, will you please be generous and be our teacher?  Allow your mind to go blank and take the first picture you see.”

Ms. Kinkade, who is originally from Fort Worth, Texas, was not born clairvoyant.  She says on her website that she did not develop the ability to communicate with animals until she was in her twenties.  Since she herself learned from scratch, she says she’s able to pass on the skill to her students.

Her early career bears no resemblance to her current fame as an animal “psychic.”  She graduated from Interlochen Arts Academy in Michigan with a degree in modern dance and went on to be a professional jazz dancer and choreographer, performing with Smoky Robinson, Ray Charles, the Four Tops, and other Motown stars in the TV series the Motown Review.

She has also worked as an actress, best known for playing the villain Angela Franklin in the horror movie series Night of the Demons.

In recent years, however, she has traveled around the world giving workshops and talks on how to communicate with animals.  She often speaks in Europe and was invited, in 2002, to work with Queen Elizabeth’s household cavalry and Prince Charles’ hunting horses.

The most critical element of her practice, she said, is silence, which can lead to the kind of nonverbal communication that allows people to intuit the animal’s message.

“Learning to quiet your mind and enter the silence is the foundation of every skill I can present to you,” she says on her website.  “Only an empty cup can be filled.  When we think a thought, it’s our natural tendency to manufacture our next thought with no time in between.  We rarely — if ever — listen.  Only when our mind is at rest can we receive intuitive impressions from outside.”

On Monday, with the group’s minds presumably at rest, Ms. Kinkade asked several people what they were feeling from Raine.

“Raine, show them your favorite other horse,” Ms. Kinkade said.

“Imagine what would this other horse look like,” she said to the human participants.  “I want to see details.  What does he like about this horse and is there anything wrong with this horse?”

Some saw a red horse, some a black, and some a white horse.  Several mentioned that the horse had a physical problem.

In the end, Ms. Kinkade said her reading was that Raine was anxious about his friend, whose owner was not as kind to him as she thought she was.  “He’s worried about how his friend is treated,” she said.  “He said this woman hurts his friend.”

The group went on to discuss Raine’s relationship with his owner.  The general consensus was that she is sometimes distracted and inconsistent and perhaps did not trust Raine as much as she ought.

“I think he doesn’t like being told what to do and has a mind of his own,” one participant said.  Some people laughed.

Ms. Kinkade, however, wasn’t amused.

“I don’t think that’s funny,” she said.  “He is a sentient being.  If he does what she wants, it’s the biggest compliment in the world.  I like animals that have tempers, I like dangerous.  I honor his wildness.  He’s a man.  He might be in a horse barn, but he’s still a man.”

Ms. Brainard wondered if she’s doing something that really bothers her horse.

“What would he like?” Ms. Kinkade said.  “What would make this a happier horse and a happier relationship?”

Several people in the group urged Ms. Brainard to strive for consistency but also to relax and have more fun with her horse.

Later, Ms. Brainard said the group and Ms. Kinkade validated what she already thought — that with a busy life she is sometimes distracted and inconsistent with her horse, and she needs to take time, relax, and have fun with the paint gelding.

Louis, a huge, black Percheron-quarterhorse cross owned by Melissa Pettersson, was next to amble into the ring.

“Imagine if he could tell you about his life,” Ms. Kinkade said.  “Imagine if he could talk to you about his life, his history.  What does he love?  What is he proud of?  Does he have a job?”

One woman said she got the strong feeling that Louis felt underestimated.

“Thank you,” Ms. Kinkade said.  She said “underestimated” was the first word that came to her from Louis, who was telling her that he’d had one hell of a career and might be getting on in years but isn’t ready to be a grandpa.  “He said they don’t understand how incredible I am.  He claims he was a winner.  He’s a role model and a therapist for the other horses.  He’s an extraordinary person, an amazing man.

“You go way back,” Ms. Kinkade said to Ms. Pettersson.  “You love each other very much.  You even look alike.”

Ms. Pettersson said she got Louis when he was six months old.  He’s now ten and has spent all his life with her.

“He’s a happy guy, this guy,” Ms. Kinkade said.  “He’s just bored.  He wants to take you for a crazy ride in the woods.”

Ms. Kinkade says on her website that her true passion is helping animal rescue organizations in Africa create safe havens for white lions, elephants, cheetah, great white sharks, and penguins.  She also troubleshoots in sanctuaries that rescue tigers, primates, elephants and other breeds of exotic animals in Thailand and around the world.

She makes no bones about being an advocate for animal rights, and says animals experience the full spectrum of human emotion, perhaps to an even greater extent than people do.  “In fact, it has been my experience that their scope is sometimes larger than that of humans… in terms of their spontaneity, loyalty, ferocity, grace, and unprecedented powers of forgiveness….

“What a travesty that we in the twenty-first century have yet to recognize our fellow sentient beings for what they are — thinking, feeling, rational beings whose sanity, sovereignty, and safety is every bit as valuable as ours.”

Ms. Richardson said that people from several states as well as Canada came to Derby to attend Ms. Kinkade’s workshop.

contact Tena Starr at tena@bartonchronicle.com

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Keizer takes on the ever-changing subject of privacy

Privacy, by Garret Keizer.  183 pages. Published by Picador, New York, New York.  $15.

copyright the Chronicle June 13, 2012

Reviewed by Tena Starr

In his latest book, Garrett Keizer of Sutton has taken on the complex and ever-changing subject of privacy.  Well, perhaps the fundamental nature of the subject hasn’t changed much, but the potential for its violation certainly has and likely will continue at an accelerating rate.  In the world of Facebook, Google, and, of course, the Patriot Act, privacy is increasingly rare — both by choice and by force.

“Government agencies and private corporations vie with each other to know the most about us — and sometimes join hands out of mutual interest, as Yahoo and Google have done in both the United States and China,” Mr. Keizer writes.  “Verizon alone receives 90,000 demands from law enforcement agencies every year.”

We all know about airport security, strip searches, racial profiling, and the increasingly sophisticated ways that corporate America uses to track our every interest for marketing purposes.  Mr. Keizer digs much deeper than that well plowed ground.

He asserts that privacy is both necessary to human dignity and to democracy.  And he says that, in a society where there is a widening gap between the wealthy and the have-littles, in a society where there’s also a shrinking amount of privacy, he sees a connection between the two.

“We tend to think of our right to privacy as a value that came about with the historical growth of the middle class,” he writes.  “If, as current indices of income suggest, the middle class is vanishing, then it should come as no surprise if the privacy of all but a few people is vanishing with it.”

He goes on to say that privacy is important because people are important — obvious statements, he admits.  “….though if they were that obvious, or universally believed, we would not be so easily resigned to losing our privacy and to watching so many of our fellow human beings falling further and further behind in health, in education, in political power, and in privacy.”

This is a dense, thoughtful, and deeply researched (the bibliography is 11 pages) little book that covers a lot of ground, makes one think, and explores a variety of aspects of the general theme, some more easily substantiated than others.

For instance, I’m not so sure the wealthy are subject to less privacy than the poor.  Surely, no one is so intent on crashing Jane Doe’s wedding as Angela Jolie’s.  But Mr. Keizer does give a nod to the reality of living rich and famous.  The camera, as it’s advanced, has contributed to a decline in privacy even for celebrities.  Once, a person had to stand still, implying some consent, to have a photo taken.  That’s no longer true, and celebrities, while presumably enjoying their celebrity and wanting to promote it, no longer have the control of their images that they might like.  Of course, nor do the rest of us — and without the benefits that come with fame and wealth.

“….giving a thorough introduction to privacy is not the same thing as giving it an airtight definition, a project I regard as both impossible and unwise,” Mr. Keizer writes.  “That’s not to say I won’t try for a tentative definition later in the book, or that I agree with a scholar who says, ‘Perhaps the most striking thing about privacy is that nobody seems to have any very clear idea of what it is.’”

The author believes that most of us do have a clear idea — “If not clear enough to define the word, then clear enough to express the need behind it.”

Mr. Keizer himself is a private man.  Here’s his own comment:  “‘You and your men friends should form a club,’ my daughter once said to me when she was still a child.  ‘You’d have only one meeting a year and all of you would refuse to attend it.’”

In this book he says a friendship was jeopardized because a longtime friend shared some of his (Mr. Keizer’s) letters with other friends without asking permission.  He scanned the paper letters and e-mailed them.  The friend seemed more baffled by, than defensive about, Mr. Keizer’s reaction, perhaps not surprising in this age of Facebook when some people share the tedious to the most intimate with hundreds of so-called “friends,” sometimes people they do not even know.

But Mr. Keizer spends relatively little time on today’s technology and social media.  Instead, he examines privacy as a political and personal right — what it is, how various cultures (some that live in far more communal societies than America’s) assert it, and what role it plays in both society and government.

He notes that the word “privacy” does not appear in the U.S. Constitution.  In fact, we were well into the twentieth century before it was articulated as a right, notably in the Fourth Amendment, which is aimed at protecting Americans from unreasonable search and seizure.

It’s not the Constitution that’s being subverted by Big Brother so much as the will to resist, without which there would not have been a constitution in the first place, Mr. Keizer says.  “Privacy can be viewed as resistance in its most primal form,” he writes.  Where pacifism is the goal of power, privacy is reduced as much as possible.

This is an important idea.  A people with no privacy are a more easily subjugated people, and stripping away privacy diminishes democracy.   “Americans speak of their system of government as one of checks and balances, but the ultimate check on government as a whole is its inability to know everything about those it governs,” Mr. Keizer says.

“We have a tendency to think of privacy too much in terms of solitude, although solitude is a part of it.  In the darkness of solitude the seeds of genius are able to germinate; we need only think of the number of religious and political movements that began with their founders in retreat, in the wilderness.”

Privacy is about freedom from interference, Mr. Keizer says.  But it’s also about the freedom to form a “collective individuality,” a political or social movement.

“Small social units and solitude continue to be important even when a body politic is fully formed, especially if its body type is democratic.  Privacy provides a zone of reflection and discussion in which gentler, less forward personalities can have some hope of making a contribution.  It gives temporary asylum to those who know themselves to be impressionable, a space to regroup and get their bearings.”

One need only think for a moment of the tone of so much of today’s media with all its frenzy, people shouting over one another, its intrusiveness, and hyper-partisanship to yearn for that zone of reflection and discussion Mr. Keizer mentions.

This is a book to be read slowly, thoughtfully, and probably more than once.  Mr. Keizer offers much to digest, although no clear remedy, except perhaps, the very concern and reflection that would lead one to read this book in the first place.

contact Tena Starr at tena@bartonchronicle.com

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