Lambertville's Trail of Magic

Two years ago we learned about Lambertville, New Jersey's Halloween decorations. It seemed everyone on North Union Street pulled out all the stops, with one house going above and beyond anything you can imagine: Dolores Dragon's home. The retired art teacher created whimsical black and white tableaus featuring mannequins that bear the likeness of people she knows. Last year her displays were up again, sharing the magic with all who visit.

This year something different happened. Over the summer, Mrs. Dragan offered her art to the town's arts council. They enthusiastically said YES first, and scrambled to figure out the details later. According to their website, Mrs. Dragan saw herself as a "memory maker," creating Halloween memories for over 20 years. The work became too much. I heard a rumor her health is not what it was. 

This year her artwork is spread throughout Lambertville (mostly in the windows of businesses) from October 1-31 in what has been renamed Trail of Magic. In some cases the scenes chosen appear to be random. In other cases, such as the person eating an ice cream cone inside the ice cream shop, I wonder if it was created new, or at least modified. There were also animals in the vet's window, mannequins enjoying coffee and treats in front of a coffee shop, and the twins playing the accordion in front of the music school. The last one I do remember from past years.

Mrs. Dragan retained a few for her front porch, which has been dubbed The Halloween House. 

The other houses on North Union Street still decorate. We were there in late October. I recognized some of the displays. We were more focused on following her trail of magic and enjoying each sculpture as one instead of as a cluster. I wonder if statues will stay in the same place next year, or move around. I found I was able to enjoy each one more this way. Her alleyway became crowded and there was a line to grab a hand (the way she kept track of how many people were in her yard), so i felt rushed to enjoy the displays. This year I paused in front of each one and savored them.

Neighbors do a Fairy Tale theme each year

The Dragan Residence

Neighbors

Neighbors

Neighbors -- the details on the packages
of food were quite creative

War of the Worlds Bike Ride

Growing up in Paramus, NJ I had heard about Orson Welles's famous 1938 broadcast called "The War of The Worlds." In this radio drama he pretended the Martians were landing in Grover's Mill. I never imagined the town was real, or that I would someday live closer to it.

A few years ago I sat in the Sarnoff Building at The College of New Jersey (TCNJ), the former Roscoe L. West Library from when I was a college student at Trenton State College (TSC) and listened to the broadcast through an old RCA radio. I'm surprised I didn't blog about it, but I am not finding a post. I'm pretty sure it was pre-pandemic, but not by a lot of years.

Back to 1938. There are mixed versions of the story. Yes, he presented it as a breaking news story, but did people really believe it? Was there really mass hysteria? Why are we still talking about it 87 years later? West Windsor Township historian Paul Ligeti is researching these questions and more. In the meantime, he took our group of 30 cyclists on a tour through the Grover's Mill section of West Windsor.

We began the journey at the adorable Grover's Mill Coffee Co located in the McCaffarey's shopping center. This shop deserves to be on a quaint main street, but this strip mall is the best option since West Windsor does not have a charming downtown. The coffee shop embraces the historical broadcast. As a sponsor they gave us a coupon for a free coffee or tea. Don and I hope to return when we can sit inside and savor it all.

On a stunningly autumn day, Paul time traveled us back to 1938. The nation was still in the Great Depression. Most families had a radio, and the radio was where you got your news and entertainment. Televisions and the internet were still in the future. There were few channels. Most of your neighbors heard the same program at the same time. 

Orson Welles based his radio program on of a 1898 British story. He changed the location to Central New Jersey -- close to New York City, Philadelphia, Boston, and Washington, DC. One story goes they dropped a pin in the area and it landed on the sleepy town of Grover's Mills. The other bonus to setting it here is its proximity to experts located at Princeton University's observatory.

Folklore has it people shot at the water tower now located in someone's backyard. The owner invited us past the fence to take pictures of it. Others grabbed all their belongings and tried to run away. I learned from Don that his dad was about ten at the time. He remembered the broadcast. As a kid he didn't pack it all up and run away, though. 

Memories are a funny thing. Even newspaper accounts from a few days later were likely exaggerated or under-exaggerated.

Paul took us on a gentle group ride. The lead cyclist was the owner of a mobile bike repair shop. The tail was our friend Sylvie sporting her UFO cycling shirt. Paul and at least one other rider were in the middle watching out for us. Don and I rode our tandem, which generated a lot of questions. Some saying they tried that once and it was a terrible experience. Don let me answer that it is a lesson in communicating. I'm glad the tandem came with toe clips -- something I was not a fan of before, and do not have on my regular bike -- because it helps me keep my feet on the pedals when Don changes gears.

Our first stop was about the 4 mile mark when we saw a Martian sculpture outside the West Windsor Arts building. At different points Paul played us digitized snippets from the hour-long broadcast. 

We rode a small distance to the restored mill of Grover's Mill. Paul pointed to the new iron historic marker. He reminded us the historical society is an all-volunteer board. They are separate from the town and are dependent on donations. The ride was free. We should probably send them a donation. 

Around the corner is the yard with the original water tower featured in the broadcast. The owner even set out water and Halloween candy for us to help fortify us for the second half of the ride.

Across the street is Van Nest with a 1988
monument to the non-event. There were ham radio operators showing off their talents using the call letters WHISKY-ZULU-WHISKEY (WZW) in a combination of past skills and the internet. 

We pressed on to the finish.

When possible, we rode on the path under the utility lines, on sidewalks, or in neighborhoods. I was nervous watching some of the riders forgetting about the cars and traveling in the middle of the street. I was glad Don and I have the tandem. It makes it easier for me to keep up with him and the rest of the group, and take pictures as he steers. I was also glad when we moved towards the front of the group with the confident cyclists.

I would recommend the event, but will likely not participate in it again.

Car Club

Another highlight from our War of the Worlds Bike Ride was meeting another member of the Honda Element Car Club.

Even more rarer is they are both blue 2008 models.

The wife recited the Honda Element Car Club Rules, ones Don has told me but I thought he made them up:

• Wave to each other as you pass on the road
• Whenever possible, park next to each other

I stand corrected!

The couple is lovely. Don connected with them when he eyed up their back up camera, something he has tried unsuccessfully to add to his car.

Earlier this year I met another owner of a Toyota Solara, forming an informal car club. If I see the owner again, I'll have to mention the Honda Element rules.

Goodspeed Theater (Chester, CT)

By a light estimate I see about 50 productions a year. There are weeks when I see three shows, but it is rare when I don't see any. Some love sports. I love theater. Which is why theaters being shut down during the pandemic was especially hard for me.

Broadway was closed for 18 months (about 550 days). I wrote about seeing my first post-pandemic production -- Godspell at Notre Dame High School. They skipped intermission and made us sit far apart, but in March 2021 it was sweet sitting in the auditorium where I saw productions with Ashley running around backstage. 

About that time Goodspeed Theater in Connecticut offered an opportunity to livestream their production: Passing Through, a new musical about a man who walked from Pennsylvania to California collecting stories. It is based on a true story. Rather than showing a new production, they sold the rights to watch a show they produced in the last idyllic pre-pandemic year. It didn't matter, I paid a few dollars to watch the show from my living room and devoured the experience. I even read Andrew Forsthoefel's book Walking to Listen, the inspiration for the musical. I'm surprised I did not blog about it, but I am not finding a reference to it here.

I loved the show. I could picture myself talking to strangers again and learning their stories. Something I enjoyed before the pandemic, but was suppressed from doing due to a global pandemic.

As a result of ordering the show, I ended up on their email list. I promised myself I'd make the trip to see a show in their theater. Over the past three and a half years the timing did not work out. Either the show was something I had seen before (and did not wish to travel nearly four hours to see again) or we were too busy to make the drive.

Then came The Great Emu War: a new emusical at their Terris Theater in Chester, CT. They tend to show more traditional works at the Goodspeed Theater in East Haddam, CT. This show was created the year before at the Festival of New Musicals. Don and I are interested in visiting next year's event in January.

The play is mostly factual with the main exception being that the emus talk. Post-WWI returning ANZAC soldiers were given land in Western Australia to farm. These men were not farmers, plus that year was particularly harsh. The emus invaded looking for food, and the soldiers did what soldiers do -- they tried to kill them. They managed to only kill one emu.

The musical is hilarious. It is worth checking out the clips on their website. If you are with a theater, please consider doing this PG-13 show. Though a musical, it only has two musicians (drummer and keyboard), the set was minimal. The costumes were easy. I laughed so hard.

We walked around Chester's tiny main street area. We had a great lunch in a
charming shop, then returned after the show for dessert. In the meantime there was a shift change and the entire aura changed. I did see a Help Wanted sign in the window, so hopefully they are replacing their after school helper. It was nearly comical. Fortunately lunch was amazing.

We broke up the drive home by stopping at the seaside town of Milford. I had a couple of other towns eyed up (New Milford and Litchfield) but they would be hourlong detours and there was already enough driving taking place. We stopped for dinner in Tarrytown, NY (famous for being the setting of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow), which was all decked out for Halloween. We hope for a long weekend in the area to also see cousins Martin and Franca, and NCB.

If you do go to the Terris Theater they ask patrons to arrive 45 minutes early. That's because their parking lot is tiny. They really pack the cars in there, and make latecomers park in town.

One more note, do not sit in the back row. There is absolutely no leg room as if they ran out space and decided to squeeze in one more row just because. We made out fine, but will aim a little closer next time.

October's No King Day Protest

The news cycle is overwhelming. If you ask me why am I protesting on the best of days I couldn't articulate WHY. I just know I have to. I made a small two-sided sign that said: ALL PEOPLE ARE CREATED EQUAL and WE THE PEOPLE. 

In June on a rainy day in New Jersey, the No Kings protests were organized nationally. At the time the numbers varied from a couple of million to up to 13.14 million people marched. the consensus is there were FIVE MILLION participants. The rule of thumb is if 3.5% of the population protests, real change takes place. With a population of 342 million people, that number is 12 million.

Since then I have participated in other, smaller protests. Those did not unite behind a singular message. It is easy to march against one man taking all of the power. That is the reason our nation was formed.

Fast forward only a few months, but with a lifetime
of crises, another No Kings Day protest was organized. Early numbers are saying over EIGHT MILLION people turned out in over 2,700 protests in the United States. The protests spread internationally to Canada, Switzerland, Denmark, Australia, and places in-between.

On a perfect fall day, I went with my lifelong friend Sylvia and her son and daughter to a small protest in Hopewell, NJ. It was their first protest, but not likely their last. Locally there were also protests taking place in Trenton, Princeton (5,000), and Lambertville (2,800). Hopewell had between 1,000 and 1,500 people lined up on Broad Street near Sourlands Cycles. People I have spoken with agree the turnout was much larger this time, in part thanks to the gorgeous weather but also because the news is more dire.

People were encouraged to wear yellow and carry signs. Listening to Heather Cox Richardson's advice, I wore a costume -- in my case a Colonial dress I've had since Ashley and I reenacted together at Rockingham. I found a man kitted out similarly. I was happy with my outfit a woman handing out flags made the comment the MAGA crowd would also like my outfit. Suddenly I felt less charming. 

Words matter.

We lined up both sides of the road. Cars honked in support. Some going up and down the street again and again. Some waving signs. Some recording (usually the passenger, but also the driver). The police went up and down the street shouting at us to stay out of the street (I'll assume they were only try to keep us safe). Sometimes they went too fast through the crowd.

I only saw one "middle finger salute," one MAGA hat drive by us, and a few groans from drivers. No real trouble. Others drove by silently, either in disagreement or out of an abundance of caution, or because they didn't realize the crowd thrives on car honks to keep us engaged.

I was surprised to not recognize anyone. If Sylvia hadn't been with me, I would have walked up and down the sides looking more than once for friends. Later I saw pictures from people I know who were also there. It is nice being with like-minded people since the news is constantly pitting us against each other.

Overall, it felt safe. Suburban. Images I've seen of crowds in New York and other cities look uncomfortable.

An older woman compliment my friend's children (well, young adults) on coming out. She said she has been at this a LONG time and it is great seeing younger people. Eyeballing the event, ages seemed to range from toddler to people in their 80s and 90s. The crowd was mostly white, which fits the demographics of the town. Heather Cox Richardson emphasizes us older white people need to get out there to protect the people afraid of being swept into ICE raids.

I'm hearing while 22 MAGAs were arrested for trying to rile up protesters, not a single protester was arrested, nor were there indications of violence. The atmosphere at many events were like block parties with singing, dancing, and costumes. Change will happen.

My Facebook feed has been lighting up with pictures other friends took at their protests. 

I feel a little sad for people not protesting. We will get to the other side of this. I'll share stories of protesting with future generations. They'll either make up stories, or change the topic. Unless they engage AI services, they won't have photo proof they, too, were fighting for a better future.

Some pictures from the event: