A Day in the Life of a Toaster

Did you ever go into a restaurant for the first time and immediately look around? If you have, what is the first thing you look at. Yes, the menu, but aside from that, what do you look at? Do you look to see how neat and clean everything is? What type of people are working? What about the equipment they are using, is it new, clean, falling apart? Alright, maybe I am critical but it is the nature of the beast. Try to think of it in a crazy sort of way, you know, "if only the walls could talk?" I know, strange but what the hell. Go a step further, what if the equipment could talk. Hey it works for some...you ever see the movie "CARS". Those "cutezy" little vehicles talked, why not a coffee pot, a blender, or perhaps the toaster. Maybe we should rethink the toaster thing, we could of been brought up on freakin assault charges if our toasters had talked!!! Let me say, if you have never had the opportunity to buy commercial grade restaurant equipment, then you might not understand why everyone always keeps old equipment just for parts. Buying new every time something went wrong, would of meant having to promise your first born as payment. Sorry, I am beginning to write like I talk! Yes, the toaster...it's too bad no one ever told Eric, you butter the nooks and crannies AFTER it comes out of the toaster. Oh Kathleen, those Christmas ornaments you made from burnt toast were absolutely "country chic adorable" and a clever way to recycle...Fred's News goes green! How could one forget Matthew R. His first day as toast person, he was talking with "Daddy" (his name for Bill and yes, I was "Mommy), not paying attention, when the smoke alarm went off. Matthew R. still insists no one told him that the little lever on the front released the latch that popped the toast up. Of course how silly, at that point, it didn't matter. Those babies were even too burnt for "country chic adorable" ornaments. Now, think about the toaster as an object that might come to life, that little lever would be comparable to a tongue. So, you might say, "Matthew R. ripped that poor baby's tongue out...Assault! As if that wasn't enough, Matthew R. tried to pry out the burnt bread with a metal knife while it was still plugged in. If "Daddy" hadn't glanced over just in time, Matthew R. might have become the perfect "country chic adorable" ornament for the tree top!! As the smoke cleared, customers stopped laughing, smoke alarms were reset and Matthew R. stopped hyper-ventilating...he gasped and so did the toaster. Assault with a deadly weapon! It was then we found out..during this thirty seconds of utter chaos, his ring had slipped off. Yes, he announced the toaster had "swallowed" his ring. Oh bastard, now what? Somewhere in our storage was another older wiser toaster, praying to the "toaster Gods", "please don't let them find me, I am old, all I have left is my tongue!!" True to its' form, "the old boy" performed without a hitch for the remainder of the day. We had to promise the "toaster Gods" Matthew R. would not even look at it.

As the day ended and the evening shadows consumed Fred's News, in walked "Johann the Nephew..Great"! He had witnessed the assault on the little toaster earlier in the day. It was quite obvious it no longer had a tongue and was suffering from the toaster form of "black lung disease". Johann's first question: "Did you get the ring out?" "No! Daddy hollered. "Yes" Mommy contradicted. Too late, Johann offered to FIX it. I had nightmares for week after he unscrewed the stainless plates that held that baby together. He then proceeded to turn it upside down and shake it. At least a hundred pieces of springs, screws, electrical caps, nuts, bolts and oh yes, one ring fell out of that poor thing. Daddy looked on horrified, "what the f@#% Johann, now what are we going to do?" "No problem, piece a cake" Yeah, about three hours later and with at least a dozen pieces no longer needed...according to Johann, it worked. I have no idea how or why but it worked. The little toaster was not the only one praying to the "toaster Gods" that day!!

The "Degrees" to Fred's News

Many of the patrons that visited Fred's News from its' beginnings in the 1940's were either long time village residents, family members or long time friends. This held true during our ownership as well, but many new friends from all corners of the world were added. Many times we joke that people all over the place could somehow link themselves to either Fred's News or a family member that knew of Fred's News in a very quick amount of time. Sort of like the Kevin Bacon Game...Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. To this day, we still hear from friends that once visited Fred's News, but are now located around the world. These countries include: Australia, Korea, Brazil, England, many different African nations, Mexico and many more. Somewhere in my boxes of memorabilia are menus from Sydney, Australia, (thanks to Richard and Marge). Many young people that were born and raised in that small town, have now
moved to other states in pursuit of their careers, but would always make a return visit to Fred's News when they were in the area. All would tell us, "I wish there was a Fred's near me!" There probably is, but the great memories of that place as they were growing up were unique. For us, it is very comforting to know that whether it was "the brothers" or us, this little place made a difference to so many.

Recently friends from Connecticut let me know they would be in the area. They asked where I worked, they wanted to stop and say hello. Unfortunately, once they arrived they realized they had forgotten the paper with the info. Immediately they contacted Disney "City Hall", told them the story and in the tradition of Disney, they were given my Disney email. We met two days later. What a surprise! Their son had worked for us for a number of years and they had promised him they would look me up.

Just a couple of months ago I was at work. One of my people came to me saying a Guest had an issue and would like to speak with management. No problem, off I went. As I approached the Guest and introduced myself, I noticed him looking at my name tag. He announced he knew where Baltic, Connecticut was. Strange, not too many know that. I smiled and asked him, "Really, are you sure?" His explanation: he is married to a young lady from Baltic. Her parents still live there. When I told him that we had been the owners of Fred's News for twenty-two years, he smiled, laughed and said he and his wife had been there recently. His wife explained to him that she had grown up with our sons and was a frequent visitor, as were her parents. He pointed her out to me, sure enough Andrea smiled, laughed and we talked for awhile about the Fred's News she remembered. Since we have been in Florida, this has happened to me many times. People will look at my name tag, see Baltic, Connecticut and remark, "I know where that is, there used to be a little place called Fred's News, great food, lots of fun we miss it." I tell them " I know the place...OMG sometimes "Big Brother is Watching!!"

In the Shadows of Early Morning Darkness

For over twenty two years, my daily ritual was getting up at 2:50a.m. For seventeen of those twenty two years it was seven days a week. It took almost of year for my brain to accept that this ritual was its' new lifestyle and was not going to kill me. The last four years in business, we decided that we needed Monday as a day of rest. We still awoke every Monday morning at 3:00a.m., read the paper and had a cup of coffee in our own kitchen!

There were times we felt we were the only people awake at that time in the small village of Baltic but after a few years, I realized "we were not alone". I usually made it downstairs to the restaurant by 3:30-3:45a.m. The main kitchen for Fred's News was upstairs as part of our home. We had the big prep island, the butcher block table and the massive stainless steel gas stove, used to pump out all those potatoes, pies, muffins and everyday specials at Fred's News. By the time I headed down the stairs, those wonderful aromas were fast on my heels. Certain days of the week, there might be someone waiting for me to arrive. Our friend from Delia's Bakery, delivering grinder rolls, the Norwich Bulletin delivery person, Sunday mornings you might have a few cars waiting out front,filled very hungry people, after a night of partying, or prior to his marriage, good friend "DeLaval", after dancing all night! If the state troopers were waiting for a cup of coffee, it discouraged the Saturday night party goers from coming in. Thursday mornings, Waste Management, also liked to arrive at 3:30a.m. This allowed them to back into the driveway and retrieve the dumpster without blocking traffic on West Main Street. Their driver, our good friend Paul, would keep me company as I brewed the first pot of coffee to begin the day. There we days that Paul also helped carry product down the bulk-head from the early morning US Foods delivery. Forget the coffee, that alone would wake you up! It was always a race to see if we could be ready by the time the regulars came in. Dave and Doug would arrive anytime after 4:45. Strict orders from management, "come in the back door!" Every morning they'd get their first cup of coffee and begin the ritual of wrapping the silverware in napkins. Dave still calls us everyday since we have left Connecticut. This is the new morning ritual we look forward to. He also meets Doug some mornings for coffee at a small cafe in Franklin. During warmer weather, Glen would arrive on his bike shortly after 5:00a.m. That early morning ride from Hanover was quiet and peaceful. Many times Glen would pick a handful of wildflowers or perhaps some beautiful flowers grown by his wife Solange. Their glorious colors would grace Fred's News counter for days. Shortly after that "Doc" would arrive from Scotland, usually in his old VW van. He would sit with Glen and have his first cup of morning coffee. These few individuals would begin conversations opened to everyone. At Fred's News, not a person, place or thing was sacred. The rowdy morning crew set the tone for the day. People would arrive, join in and enjoy. One never knew when they might just become the "victim". This form of harassment was unique to Fred's News and for all to enjoy. We would explain to people, "Once you are "attacked" you're in!" I thoroughly enjoyed when a new face showed up. The crowd would calm down, size them up and decide, "do we or don't we." It must of been some keen sense of intuition, because the majority of time their decision was right on.

No morning would be complete without a visit from the "farm boys". They usually called in an order around 4:30a.m., just to make sure they would not be inside as the first customers arrived. After a night of milking cows and cleaning barn floors, they were a sight to behold and really not the fresh scent of morning dew! Once in awhile one of the hired guys would stop in and pick up the order on his way to work at the Spielman Farm. I was very grateful for those days.

Many have asked "Was it boring all those years?" Absolutely not! Everyday was new and exciting. "Was it a challenge?" Life is a challenge and far from mundane. If you are passionate about your lifestyle then let the games begin!

Thought we Lost the Old Woman!

One of the most difficult adjustments we had to make as a family was owning a 24/7 business. You couldn't just close or leave, we had to be there. Life before Fred's News was usually adjusted to fit the kids' schedule. There was basketball at St, Joseph's School, Little League in the spring, men's softball in the fall. Bill was coach of the boys basketball team as well as little league coach for youngest son Mark. In his "spare" time he coached girl's high school basketball and softball for the Academy of the Holy Family. I worked as a vocational director at an agency for the developmentally disabled. We had talked with the boys about purchasing Fred's News, everyone was quite excited. What made the transition so difficult...we had to wait two months to move into the house above the restaurant. When the time came to move, it was immediate. The big move was only about four hundred feet up the street,15 West Main Street to 51 West Main Street, but it might as well have been four hundred miles...what a mess. It took forever to sort out the address change with the Post Office. In all fairness to the Post Office....the change of address forms we sent to all the places that needed them, thought it a joke. On top of everything, at the precise time we decided to make the big move, Southern New England Telephone went on strike. There were no cell phones or ordering you own product via the computer. How the hell were we suppose to run a business? No phone in the restaurant, no phone in the new house. Between the grandparents and "Loose Wheel", who lived behind us, we muddled through. Any orders placed with our vendors had to be called in before midnight the previous day.

Every afternoon I headed out the back door to "Loose Wheel's" house. Usually she'd answer the door, or yell "door's open, come on in." That damn door was always locked and she'd have to stop what she was doing and let me in. She was always afraid some nut would walk in if she didn't barricade herself in. By the way she was in her early eighties by then and still very spry. On one afternoon I headed over to her place, as I started to knock on the screen door, I noticed "Loose Wheel" laying on the couch with her hands across her chest. Not wanting to scare her I softly called her name. She didn't move, I tried again and again. By this time I'm thinking..."not a good scenario here!" "How am I going to call 911 when I can't even get into the house and we haven't got a God-damn phone in either the house or the restaurant." I decided to try and remove the screen, but to my amazement, the door WAS NOT locked! OMG not good, she looked DEAD. Slowly I walked forward to see if she was breathing. Tough to tell..um, should I try to shake her? If she isn't dead, I'm going to give her a freakin heart attack. My decision, was to move very close to her and see if I could hear her breathe. Bad decision, very bad!!! I was about two inches from her face when she opened her eyes and screamed. I damn near had a heart attack, she's trembling and screaming "Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out me!" "What?" "I scared the shit out of you, take a look at my panties "Loose Wheel!" After I calmed her down and demanded an explanation just as she had demanded one from me, the real story unfolded. "Ms. Loose Wheel" wasn't feeling her usual chipper self that afternoon. She couldn't call and let me know, (thank you SNET), she had decided to wait for me by laying down on the couch. She'd left the door unlocked because she felt too weak to get up. As for falling asleep, it wasn't part of her master plan. Following that story with a happy ending, I placed my orders, gave "Loose Wheel" strict orders never to leave her door unlocked, some one could of walked in and hurt her. As I walked back down the driveway, she yelled "Thanks...I feel better, you got my heart ticking faster honey!" Me, I felt like shit...and I still couldn't hear a thing as a result of her God-awful blood curdling screams! Nice!!!

The Killer Yellow Jackets

I wish that I could be sure every town had their own memorable characters, because if they don't, Sprague could lend out a few. Perhaps we could put them on loan and make a few bucks. Our trio of former school crossing guards would fit the profile, unfortunately two of the three are now in a place in heaven "Just for them!"
Wayner, lived in the former Allen Hardware store long after it closed. I think he owned it because no landlord would ever let a tenant make a fort out of his building. This was not your ordinary fort, it was not equipped with a canon on top (although anything is possible). Before it was a fort, Wayner called it a three-quarter way house (see what I mean-different). That didn't last too long, Wayner said "to many problems and issues with the residents." For a while Wayner's fort was protected by one mean-ass dog. I can remember seeing that dog heading down West Main Street, dragging his chain, making a getaway, Wayner not to far behind. Then all of a sudden Wayner heading back up West Main Street with the dog chasing him. Wayner's fort was located two buildings north of Fred's News. As soon as they had passed, everyone in Fred's News headed for the sidewalk, just to see who won the foot race. Obviously Wayner was victorious because later that afternoon he was spotted crossing the kids as St. Joseph's School day ended. Wayner was not a bad guy, just different. Problem was he thought he was fine and the world was wrong. However, Wayner had served his country during the Vietnam war, paying the ultimate price, early death from a disease caused by his tour of duty. He will be remembered for many comical moments and the yellow jacket he wore while crossing the kids.

Oddly enough our next crossing guard who is keeping Wayner company,(you know where), was "Lawnmower Man". Yes, Stinky's "friend". Really, Lawnmower Man would fill in on days Wayner wasn't available or was too sick. As I have said before, he did work for the church and the Sisters of Charity, so he was a natural for the job. Both Wayner and Lawnmower Man were friends and patrons of Fred's News. Everyone may have cracked wise-ass jokes about them, but there were times that Wayner needed food and had run out of funds. We never asked why, we just gave him the food. He had a heart and a certain sadness about him that shined through his strange facade.

"Big B" was the last of the "Killer Yellow Jackets". When we left the town he was still crossing the kids and anybody else that ventured anywhere near the crosswalk. In the beginning, he would jump out into the middle of the road even if a car just pulled into the church parking lot. He'd make all vehicles wait in line until that person got out of his car and walked across the street. Tempers flared, citizens complained but "Big B" stood fast. Problem was sometimes he was in such a hurry, he'd jump out, risking his own life, put up the STOP sign, but wave the vehicles through. Those who would stop and holler at him would hear the stern reply, "Oh how I hate dat siwee wabbit!!!" Seriously, "Big B" did serve a purpose, he slowed down all vehicles that definitely were travelling too fast through a school zone. However, with that yellow jacket stretched over his too large of a body and held in place by the top button only, he reminded everyone of Elmer, Fudd that is!!

Memories for the Senses

With the Fall season fast approaching, many great memories of Fred's News flood into my mind. After a long hot summer, the Town of Sprague, appeared to have a resurgence of activities as the warmer days marched into the cooler fall season. Kid's were heading back to school, international students were arriving at the Sisters of Charity Academy of the Holy Family Boarding School, fall festivals were beginning to appear, both bird and deer hunting seasons were just around the corner, as well as salmon fishing on the Shetucket River. On the cooler evenings, you could sit out on the benches in front of Fred's News, among the vibrant hanging flower baskets lining the street, and smell the campfires burning at the Salt Rock Campground, just a short distance from our restaurant. It was such a wonderful aroma, awakening the senses to all the good things Mother Nature had to offer. Many a night after closing for the day, we'd brew a fresh pot of coffee. Bill would finish watering the flowers for another day, and we would sit out in front of the place, drinking those steaming cups of coffee. Conversation would be about all the good things in life we've been blessed with; each other, our children now grown, successful and on their own, our wonderful business and friends we had made. Occasionally someone would walk by and we would offer them coffee. Most of the time they just wanted to say hello and enjoy the cool refreshing evening. Many cars would drive by slowly, admiring all the flowers. Some would wave and give us the "thumbs up" sign on the beauty of the area, but many never even saw us tucked in amongst the flowers watching and enjoying the evening serenity after a very busy and hectic day.

It was during this season, the planning for the fast approaching holiday season began. Sprague and the surrounding towns were home to many generations of French-Canadian people, myself, one of them. All of my maternal relatives, including my mother were born in Canada. Like many of the areas' citizens they too had arrived in eastern Connecticut because of work. As they began to migrate to the "south", more and more would bring their families and their culture to the area. As a child, my Memere (grandmother) would make all kinds a great foods. At times it seemed she used almost next to nothing to create some of the most tasty dishes that still hold fast in my memory. Mom was also a great cook, but when Memere was around, she was the chef-de-cuisine of the kitchen. One of my favorite holiday specialties was French-Canadian Pork Pie. I remember when we decided to sell the pies at Fred's News, Bill asked me if I could duplicate Memere's pie, or better yet did I have the recipe. Silly man, Memere NEVER wrote a thing down! So to answer his question, "No I did not have a recipe." "Could I duplicate the pie?" "Possibly!" Memere was one of sixteen children, but only my Aunt Marie was left. After explaining my plans to duplicate Memere's pie, she obliged. "Okay baby" she said in her thick french accent, "You put a little bit of dis and a smidge of dat, den you taste. "About six or seven spoonfuls later", SUCCESS!! The first season we offered the pies, patrons ordered almost two hundred! Pick up was the day before Thanksgiving. We also had a significant amount of apple, blueberry and pumpkin pies to get ready for the same pickup day. Some of our evening bench sitting was cut short as we prepared the pork mixture for the pies in batches, then froze it for later use. We also served the pork pies at the restaurant during Thanksgiving week, adding to the already large amount being made. I do believe the following year people asked about the pies in August, just to make sure I wouldn't change my mind about making them!

Here in Florida we live in a golfing community. The citizens of this community are over 55 and come from all areas of the country, Canada and abroad. Many are snowbirds, but the hearty souls, (us included) that truly are sun-worshipers, stay through the Florida summers. We look forward to the fall season for many of the same reasons we did in Baltic. The community once again comes alive, friendships are renewed, dinner parties begin and conversations are much the same as before. We are still thankful for each other, our kids and our new lives. We miss our friends and family that are not here. But the pork pie tradition continues, only on a much smaller scale. My sister and brother-in-law visited this past spring for a week. Her request: pork pie and crepes! Memere must of been smiling!

The Attention Grabbers

Because someone is a character, may not always be a good thing. We have a tendency to assume they are funny, witty and great to have around. Most characters that frequented Fred's News were just that but Fred's did have their black sheep. This is in the plural form. When any or all of them were in the restaurant an abnormal amount of attention was given to them just to keep the peace. They thrived on being nasty, controversial and pissing off people. "The Nephew" had a tendency to be that way, although he is not on my "List of attention grabbers." Stinky however is. In this case the nickname fits. Nasty by nature although I have no idea why. Maybe he earned the nickname because he is nasty or maybe he's nasty because of the nickname, whatever, it is what it is! Many years ago Fred's News sold Connecticut lottery tickets. Sometimes on a lazy quiet afternoon the regulars would purchase scratch off tickets. If one would win, he buy a round of ice tea or coffee for his friends. On one particular afternoon, they hit a "hot streak" on the tickets. $2.00, $5.00. more $2.00 tickets and even larger amounts. The front door opens, in walks Stinky. Not a good situation. Without even a "good afternoon," he walks up to the old guys, sits on the stool between a couple of them, watches the proceedings and says, "give me a ticket!" That would be like a guy at the casino jumping in on some one's hot streak in the middle of a hot Black Jack game. "What are you crazy!" they all chimed in. I might add at this point they were all scratching tickets. Stinky asked for a ticket again and again but sensing a crime about to happen, I did not sell him a ticket immediately. Finally, Hogan made the comment, "Give the As#@%* a ticket from the back of the book!" "Fine!" Stinky hollered as he paid the price for the ticket. Some how Stinky made it out the door with his life. I really don't know how. For the record, the last ticket in that book was a $5000.00 winner and it was his. "That fat bastard didn't even offer to buy us a coffee" Hogan snarled. Now that's despicable!

Ah yes, "Lawnmower Man", I really don't know his name, I just know what the regulars offered about the man. He was pretty much a loner, had a tough childhood (could of been the reason he was an attention grabber)and walked to one of the local mills everyday for work. Really never knew the man had a license because I never saw him drive. So you can imagine my surprise the day he stopped by the restaurant with a pickup truck full of stuff for the local landfill. The truck belonged to the Sisters of Charity and obviously he was doing work for them, (not so despicable). As the years passed and he no longer worked at the mill, he continued to work for the Sisters and the church. His vehicle of choice to get around Town was a riding lawnmower, hence the nickname, Lawnmower Man. This would of been fine if the distance he travelled on the lawnmower were only a few homes apart. They were not. Sometimes the distance was a few miles and it wasn't to mow lawns. It was his vehicle of choice. He would occasionally stop at Fred's News for a coffee and a burger with the works. Snarly is the adjective that best describe his demeanor. Obviously he had never learned social skills, we could deal with that. We tried teaching by example...no good. Everyone breathed a bit easier when he would leave, he never carried on much of a conversation. If asked "How's your day going?" he might continue eating and snarl "who wants to know?" OMG....to many tense moments! The corker to this whole story is: Lawnmower Man had been told a number of times to stay off the road with the lawnmower. He was creating a hazard to drivers and himself. Ironically, the fire department was summoned to an accident just up the road from Fred's News. Car versus ???. The "patron paparazzi" ran to Fred's News, "I"ll give you hint" they yelled. "There were pieces of lawnmower all over the side of the road and a wheel heading down the hill!" OMG...Lawnmower Man!! Just for the record, he was okay, a few bumps and bruises. I did feel sorry for him but he had been warned and knew the consequences. Oh by the way, I think it was Stinky that hit him....no really! OMG!

Life in the Fisbowl!

Admittedly there were some drawbacks concerning Fred's News ownership. These drawbacks were viewed through the eyes of our children and only when it concerned the lack of privacy in their lives. Mom and Dad were busy providing for the children and yes, there were hardships. Living with memories that we could not always attend functions with and for our children, is sometimes be an extremely hard pill to swallow. On the positive side, Fred's News' patrons were like a giant paparazzi. They would let us know of our kids' location on a daily basis. Great for us, not so great for the kids. Everyone knew the "boys"! Irritating doesn't even begin to describe their feelings. Middle son Matt owned a Volkswagen Rabbit with flames painted on the side. That alone made the statement..."look at me, teenage wheels!" Oldest son Todd also had a VW Rabbit until he was in a minor accident near Carlson's Pond on Rte. 207 in Franklin. A loyal patron immediately came into the restaurant informing us of the mishap, at the the same time letting us know Todd was okay. He then purchased a Pontiac Fiero. "Hello", this also said "look at me!" Youngest son Mark opted for what his brothers called "the family truckster" or a "pepere car". It was a black Ford sedan with a luggage rack. Nothing about it screamed "look at me!" Mark figured he could "fly under the radar!" buy rarely did he "fly alone." That boy always had a group of friends with him and the "family truckster" was the vehicle of choice. Mark got his license shortly after his sixteenth birthday. The next day, without our knowledge he headed to Boston's Quincey Market in the "family truckster" with a load of friends. We probably would of never known, however, the "patron paparazzi" sighted him and immediately checked in at Fred's News. No wonder Mark had opted for the "pepere car".

It wasn't until they were older and my Dad passed away that we realized how lucky we were the "patron paparazzi" really existed. After Dad's funeral, family and friends had gathered at Fred's News. We had a small reception upstairs at the house, everyone remembering Dad and Grampa stories. The boys started telling us some of the crazy things they had done during their teen years. OMG.....its seems Mark was not the only one who flew under the radar. There were times they had all outwitted the "patron paparazzi!

People always came to Fred's News for the food, friendship, conversation and info. We always joked that the banner provided by "The Last Green Valley" organization, hanging outside the place. advertising "INFO" was more than just tourist info. The publics' need for info had gotten to the point that if a state trooper car was parked down the road and they were talking with someone, Fred's News received a call "hey what's going on down the street?". Really folks! Our "boys" purchased a scanner for their parents at Christmas one year. Great idea for the "concerned public", bad idea for Mom and Dad. We now realize it was their way of saying "Okay, we own a restaurant "news stand", thanks for the life in the fishbowl!" Gotta love those boys!

Yuk...Brussel Sprouts!

"Just taste it, you might be surprised, you'll like it!" laments a frustrated parent. "No way!" is the immediate response from their disgusted child. I cannot remember how many times during the course of a day I hear remarks along those lines. Thinking way back I can remember still sitting at the dinner table, two hours after dinner was finished, with two peas on my plate. I had made the ultimate mistake of announcing before the dinner hour started "I ate peas at Teresa's house the other night and they were good!" For the record, Teresa was my best friend during my early childhood years. Although we didn't see much of each other after our school years, we would occasionally bump into each other at the grocery store. The friendship was once again renewed after she began frequenting Fred's News every weekend. As she entered the front door with her now grown daughter and grand kids, (she had no idea we owned the place,)we both just stared and then laughed, totally amused at how our lives had come first circle. It was a though we had seen each other everyday for all those years. Teresa continued to be a regular at Fred's News until we sold the place in November of 2007. About a year or so after we relocated to Florida, I received the news she had passed away. Looking back I see only the happy times of youth. We walk to the school bus together every morning. During the summer months we'd swim in the Yantic River swimming hole,(OMG), and during the winter, sledding at Sharp's field, now the Norwich Industrial Park and yes, we'd eat dinner at each other's homes on a regular basis. Which in a round about way bring me back to my original point. My God, I am beginning to write like I talk...get to the point!

The peas sitting on my plate bore no resemblance to the pretty little plump things I had consumed at Teresa's house the previous evening. These two olive drab shriveled things looked disgusting! However, they were peas! Point well taken but those ugly "bad boys" were not going to pass my lips. Had I kept my mouth shut, I could of been outside playing with the rest of the neighborhood kids on an awesome summer night!

At Fred's News were spent many years joking and laughing with young children not wanting to eat what the parents had ordered. Although none ever sat there for two hours, with two ugly peas on there plates, there were some tense moments at best. Kids preferred sausage patties over sausage links, crusts cut off the toast and made into little triangle shapes. Cinnamon sugar was also a big plus. Apple Jacks and Alpha Bits cereal also wiped away many a tear. One young man, who later worked for us, had been coming into the store from birth. Josh was a character at best,an outstanding young man whose taste buds were developed well beyond his years. Both his parents, professional people, were at times at wits end as to what Josh wanted to eat. As a toddler he'd spend the day at daycare being picked up by the parent who was finished with their day first. So that Mom and Dad could enjoy a late dinner, many times Josh would have a quick snack at Fred's News on the way home. His loving daycare provider served him his nightly dinner. Josh's snacks were not that of normal three year old palate. Olives and anchovies just to name a couple gives you an idea of his preferences. By the times Josh was eleven or twelve he was able to cook the family a gourmet meal, really!! Although a fantastic athlete, Josh preferred to cook, browse through restaurant magazines or catalogs which we provided, grow herbs on the edge of the sunken tub in the family bathroom, (the humidity and light from the skylight provided excellent growing conditions!)or just plain experiment with foods. To bad he hadn't been my mother's child...he loved peas...just for the record..."No, I did not consume those peas...they scarred me for life." Actually I love peas now...fresh one only, much better color. My diet is mostly and quite ironically...VEGETARIAN.....and yuk, I don't do BRUSSEL SPROUTS, ugly and slightly larger green things!!

"Is a Coffee Shop Just a Coffee Shop?"

As a young child listening to parents and grandparents talk about their "good old days", I often thought,"I'll never be that way!" OMG...I have probably never been more wrong!. For the record, "I made a mistake!" It's not that we talk about the "good old days", it's more like we miss certain things from that era. My husband grew up in the City of Norwich. He lived in the Breed building above the Sugar Bowl. Ah yes, a coffee shop! We've talked often about that. Although he was only six when the family moved to Scotland Rd. in Norwich, he remembers awakening to the aroma of fresh brewed coffee. Years before we became the owners of Fred's News, we would talk about those days and how it must of been very comforting to the patrons of the Sugar Bowl, just knowing that a fresh cup of coffee and newspaper would be waiting for them every morning. Ironically, neither one of us ever went there, it was just one of those neatly tucked away memories or just part of an overheard conversation from our parents. We have no idea if the coffee was great, or if it was the company of the early morning crowd that made it unique, perhaps a little bit of both. We remembered listening to friends talk of similar circumstances and each one of these memories made our final decision to purchase Fred's News, a "no-brainer."

Other than babysitting and being "Candy-Striper" volunteer at the Backus Hospital, my first job with a paycheck was at Goldberg's Store in Norwich. Friends and I would walk from Norwich Free Academy everyday to Beverly Tea Room, have some fries or a burger and soda, then head off to work or whatever. It was for our age group, the "thing" to do. Our own hangout. Mr. Valace would yell at us, his son would do the same. Many years later, the son would visit us at Fred's News. We'd talk about those days and how they were so much fun. He DID NOT "feel the fun" at that age. He admitted he felt much the same way my kids did, "growing up in a fishbowl", only now realizing how much he misses it. Memories like that assurred us we had made the right decision in owning Fred's News.

We now live in sunny Florida, a universe away from the days of Fred's News. We, of course, miss our friends. We miss the aroma of fresh brewed coffee and the early morning chatter of everyone who ever came through the door, they were all friends. We are often asked, "Are you ever sorry you sold the place?" Of course not, it wasn't a snap decision, we thought of all the pros and cons. What does cause our sadness? There will be no further memories created within the walls of Fred's News. Stories, however, will live on.

Recycling at Fred's News

Fred's News employees were as diverse as the patrons they served. Early on in our career as small business owners, it was basically family that helped. There were however, some very loyal friends that would step up to the plate whenever uncontrollable chaos would surface. Joe, also fondly known as "Egger" was always willing to assist. An educator by choice, an outgoing and naturally funny personality by birth, Joe, for years, was a regular at Fred's News. Although as a teenage he was not allowed to "hangout" in front of the place, that quickly changed. Joe actually was on our payroll on weekends and whenever his schedule allowed. As we started changing the format inside Fred's News to reflect more of a restaurant atmosphere than an extremely cluttered coffee shop/junk shop/convenience store, Joe was always willing to help go through boxes and boxes of merchandise and whatever else that was found in every nook and cranny. Between our kids and Joe their discoveries were at times, different. In an earlier blog, I mentioned that the place was a precursor to todays' CVS or Walgreens. Visualize what possibly could of been found in those boxes. One of the first discoveries were fifty year old eye-glasses with rims that reminded you of cat eyes. They wore these around the restaurant much to the delight of the customers. Another popular find was old plastic pop bead necklaces, a short-lived Fred's News wardrobe accessory, cases of Witch Hazel and Bromo-seltzer tablets that no longer fizzed. "How do we know they didn't fizz any longer?" you ask. Silly, silly question, "they tried them!" Not literally by drinking them, but by lining up glasses of water and checking them out. They found old boxes upon boxes of "fleet enemas." No, they DID NOT try these! Perhaps the most enlightening piece of old merchandise to be found, at least for our youngest, at age ten, were packets of old condoms. No, they DID NOT try these either! At least not in the way they were meant to be used. Instead they got the brilliant idea, let's blow them up and hang them on door handles for "party decorations". Lovely! Scared the crap out of me as I reached for the back-door to enter the restaurant. Luckily, it was the time of day that only a few of the regulars joined in the festivities. As the days and weeks moved on, they thoroughly enjoyed "their archeological digs" into the long lost inventories of an earlier Fred's News.

Our first holiday party for employees of Fred's News was interesting. Joe got the brilliant idea everyone should have a festive hat. If my memory is correct they were made from cleaned and recycled tub butter containers, all of which were adorned with many other items found in the catacombs of Fred's News. These "new wave chapeaus" made from recycled "finds" were quite the rave! At least within the confines of Fred's News!

Shetucket River Valley Rescue

As I have mentioned a number of times before, Sprague was once a bustling textile center. The original mill owners constructed duplexes otherwise known as "mill houses or company houses" for all employees of the Baltic Mills. There were other buildings, all part of the Baltic Mills Enterprise. The nursery building and the company store, where employees would do their weekly shopping and be able to "charge it". Of course monies were taken out of every paycheck but it was all part of the process of taking care of their employees. As the textile industry waned, the mill owners decided to sell the "company houses". These homes were sold to their current residents if they wished to purchase them. Others were just bought up and used a rental homes. I do believe the most expensive homes were not much more than $3800.00. This however did leave the village of Baltic intact. Today the mill houses still exist. Many have been remodeled and are beautiful, a few, however, in desperate need of TLC! The former company store is now used for other purposes, the nursery building is home to "The Nephew" and most other businesses are few and far between. It is no longer fashionable to have a shop on Main or West Main St.

There are glimmers of hope that the village will someday return to its' former glory. The beautifully pristine section of the Shetucket River flowing from the Scotland Dam through the Village of Baltic has been designated as an Atlantic Salmon restoration area and is now protected. Fisherman from all over come to the area to fish with barb less hooks and fly rods, all part of a catch and release program. Fish ladders have been installed all along the Shetucket River up to the Scotland Dam. Hopes are running high that someday the river will be clean enough to sustain the salmon and trout as well as numerous other wildlife. Many of the fisherman would frequent Fred's News ever year during this small but encouraging Salmon run. Other conservation groups have also joined in to restore the river to its' natural beauty. Sprague purchased an area upstream once known as the Mukluk Skeet Club. This shooting club was once owned by "the Brothers" and their friends, all of whom were Fred's News regulars from its' humble beginnings in the 1940's. Their heirs are the ones who decided to sell the club to the Town, therefore prohibiting any commercial or residential sprawl along this picturesque stretch of riverbed. During the summer months, kayakers, canoeist and hikers can be seen walking along the river, all hoping for a glimpse of the bald-eagle families that now call the Shetucket River home. Yes, there is a glimmer of hope for Sprague's resurgence into once again becoming a destination. With this renewed hope, maybe someone will once again open a small-town restaurant where the memories of Fred's News will again bring smiles of happiness for all to enjoy.

A Brilliant Life Wasted

Although most characters that frequented Fred's News were known mostly by their good qualities, there was one that stood alone for being just plain strange, bordering on absolutely weird. Oddly enough the reasons he developed these personalities were evident to all and probably why everyone put up with him...to a point. "Crazy Bruce", who is now in that great big insane asylum in the sky, came from a life of privilege, descending into a life of personal hell. He caused pain and suffering to himself as well as his family who tried to help him. Bruce, before his crazy years, was an outstanding athlete and spoke at least five languages fluently. Society saw glimmers of his former life when he would return from weeks of treatment or his athletic abilities surfaced as he was being chased by someone who would no longer tolerate his antics. Drugs, all kinds, had made Bruce into the crazy man that people eventually despised and actually were afraid of. Oddly, one never knew where and when Crazy Bruce might appear. In our early years as proprietors of Fred's News, Crazy Bruce could be seen wondering around the Town day and night. When he had money, he'd stop at the restaurant for something eat. Just for the record, Bruce would work occasionally for Old Man Harrington. He'd have Bruce do jobs that no one else would do. Cutting brush along the banks of Beaver Brook with an electric chainsaw gives one an idea of the hazardous tasks done by him. If Bruce slipped, we all know what would of happened. Bruce just didn't care, he needed the money for more drugs and if anything was left, food. Crazy Bruce wore glasses that had been broken right across the nose piece. So that they would stay on his face, he did what any "brilliant but crazy" person would do...he taped them, many times. Eventually, he got a new pair and came into the restaurant. We made mention that we liked his new glasses. Without a word, he stopped eating, stared, then removed his glasses and did what any "brilliant but crazy" person would do...he broke them in half, then continued eating. The next day, he was seen with new tape on his new glasses! There were times that Bruce would get into some really bad drugs and his paranoia would manifest itself into ridiculously weird outbursts that occasionally landed him in jail, then lockup for short periods. Had he asked any of his old friends, we would of told him, "Bruce, telephone poles DO NOT follow you!" Bruce should of also learned that maybe blue pickup trucks ARE NOT monsters, but if you keep jumping out in front of them, they WILL hurt you. At one point during his "Blue truck fears", Bruce jumped out in front of Sim. Luckily Sim stopped in time, but Bruce had to summons all of his athletic abilities to out run a very pissed-off Sim wielding a mean baseball bat and hollering obscenities at him! I don't recall Bruce ever doing that again, at least not to Sim.

A number of times over the years, Crazy Bruce was banned from Fred's News. More often than not it was because, people had become genuinely afraid of him. During one of Bruce's exiles, there were rumors that some "out-of-towners" were looking for him. God knows for what reason, I'm sure it wasn't good. They found him, roughed him up badly, but Bruce managed to escape his hideout in the woods along the river. A chase ensued, Bruce ran and ran until he reached Fred's News, then darted inside, dirty and bloody. I might add that this was on a very busy Sunday morning just after the church crowd had arrived. He said nothing as he stood in the doorway trying to hide. He was so pitiful, dirty and scared, he knew we would help him regardless of his past. I managed to get him into the restroom, looked at his injuries and then called the police. Bruce was gone for sometime after that incident, family tried over and over to help. Bruce did not want help, he just wanted drugs. Over the years there were many, many more even stranger events surrounding Bruce. One of these events caused his permanent banishment from the Town. Crazy Bruce was put into some sort of group home, but still could wander the streets of neighboring towns. Bruce died shortly after we moved to Florida. Even though he was strange and could be dangerous, I remember a feeling a sense of sadness upon learning of his death, such a brilliant life wasted.

The Big One that Didn't Get Away!

As a child I lived in the Town of Franklin, Sprague's neighbor to the north, sort of. Bill lived in Norwich, Sprague's immediate neighbor to the south, sort of. Occasionally, we would drive through Sprague to visit family friends or head to relatives in Jewett City. As we'd drive by the Catholic Church and the Academy of the Holy Family, my Mom would always mention Fred's News or as the locals called it, "Libs"! Her comments really were not positive by any stretch of the imagination. I later found out Daddy only acknowledged Mom's statements, he never agreed with them. The area in which Fred's News was located was always of hub of activity. Young people congregated on the sidewalks on warm summer nights, the bar right next door always had the door open and you'd strain to see inside since it was a "forbidden" territory. Right next door to that "no fly zone" area was Allen's Hardware. It was only after I moved to Sprague that I understood why everyone called him "Old man Allen". There was the senior Allen, the junior Allen and grandson Allen. My Dad always called him Mr. Allen when he stopped at the store but when referencing him in conversation, it was "old man Allen!" I never realized there was more than one of them until I moved to Sprague as a young adult. The old movie house was also in between Fred's News and the bar. It was razed sometime around 1963.

Later in the seventies when there was a need for more housing, some apartments were put in where the bar once stood. The the former movie house location was now the parking lot for these units. Most of these building looked their age and since the Town was no longer a textile hub, these apartments over the years housed a variety of memorable characters. After our purchase of Fred's News, we were dubbed the "caretakers of the block", mostly because we were trying to upgrade the image of our new eatery and we wanted a safer environment for our kids to grow up in. This building was owned by a businessman in the area who just happened to own more than just of few of these places. The locals called the place, "LaPere Estates." One of the more memorable residents was Stacy. He shared the apartment with his friend Gene, both were deep-sea fishermen and at times would be out to sea for a week or more. Stacy was a very small, slight man that loved to party and fight. I think he learned to fight because he would tell whopping big unbelievable stories. When his audience would tell him he was full of shit, the little guy would challenge them all. "Full of liquor" as his roommate Gene would say, Stacy would get his ass kicked. Ironically, most of his stories were true and the man must of had nine lives. He had spent quite a bit of time on the Bering Sea going after Alaskan Crab, had a Russian girlfriend that was drop dead gorgeous, and had netted a three-foot long, thirty pound lobster on his last trip out! We can confirm the lobster story, it probably gave me more than just a few extra gray hairs! I was unlocking the walk-in cooler on the back loading dock, getting ready for our day to begin. I never heard him come across the driveway, nor did I hear him stop at the door of the cooler waiting for me. What I did hear, was out of the blackness of the early morning, a slightly inebriated fisherman in the loudest squeakiest voice imaginable, "Hey Diane, look at what the F#@% got caught in the fishing nets! Couldn't throw the poor bastard back 'cause he lost a Goddamn claw and he would of died if we threw him back. He all yours, ya want him? "What I want is for you to please let me know when you are approaching in the darkness at 4:00am and there isn't usually anyone else out here but me. You gave me a Goddamn heart attack!!!" "Oops, sorry" was all he managed to mutter. With that he said "I'm tired, going home to bed. He's all yours"!!!! What the hell was I going to do with this monster at 4:00am in the morning?!

Smith & Jones

Some aspects of life in the South are comparable to life in another country. As with all places there are numerous good points and some, well, not so good. After having been born and raised in "the North" and lived there fifty plus years before moving to "the South", I now have a better understanding of how it feels to be transplanted. As with all living things, if you nurture them, they will flourish. The Town of Sprague, where Fred's News once was a thriving hub of family, food and friends, can claim ownership to many a transplanted families. This was nothing new for the Town. In the late sixties and early seventies it was also known as a Navy Town. Not too far from Sprague was Groton, which was and is still the home of the Navy's Groton Submarine Base. Many young couples that were wait-listed on the Navy housing rolls, moved to Sprague. It created a more diverse culture for the Town as well as a chance for Fred's News to provide a place for these young people to feel more "at home". Almost every small Town across this vast country can claim ownership to such a place and Sprague was no different. As the Cold War declined and the Navy built additional housing closer to the "Sub Base", the need for all those apartments also waned. Some of the apartment owners just rented to those in need, which created a certain sub-culture of transplanted citizens all across Sprague. However, some of Sprague's newest residents were families that came from other parts of the country and wanted to be together as their husbands worked many large construction projects that were ongoing in Connecticut. Some of these families still have members that are now permanent transplants.

"Smith and Jones" were two such families. They were a wonderful addition to the Fred's News family and although they left the area many years ago, their friendship endures. Billie Smith and Vanessa Jones worked together at Fred's News for a period of time. They were the "lunch time team" and had a great following of regulars. Miss Billie called Fred's "the cafe". Upon returning to her home in Louisiana, she opened her own cafe. Miss Vanessa stayed for a few years while her family grew and it was our hopes and wishes she'd stay forever with us. Eventually, she would move back to Lake Charles, Louisiana with her children so that they could be closer to her family. The void that was left as they moved not only away from us, but from the Town, took years to heal. We miss them everyday and not a week goes by that one of those sweet memories, tucked neatly in that special place in our hearts, becomes a part of our conversations. Miss Vanessa once told our closest friend Ward, who at the times was purchasing two to three packs of cigarettes a day from Fred's, "ya"ll better kick that habit, it's gonna kill ya!" Needless to say he kicked the habit and damn near died when he counted all the money he had saved by not buying them after a year of no smoking. Miss Vanessa's daughter, Jamie Jones worked for us every weekend. She was Bill's "toast girl". A job that many thought boring, but so extremely vital to the fast paced Saturday and Sunday mornings of Fred's News. So that we would be politically correct, this position became known as "toast person" and boasted many a character over the years. Jamie, however, has the notorious title of "Best ever Toast Person!" Those who followed had to endure the wrath of Bill as he moaned and groaned "that they couldn't keep up" or "where the hell is Jamie when I need her!" Jordan Jones is Miss Vanessa's son. When he was younger he'd sit in Fred's waiting for his Mama after school. Jordan would hop off the school bus, run into the restaurant, plop his backpack, which was bigger than him, down on the floor and give a great sign of relief school was over. I always loved the "Hi Miss Diane". Definitely southern charm! Jordan had a skateboard which he was actually quite good at. Dear Bill decided that one day he'd like to try. After a quick lesson he was ready. He thought maybe if he put Fred the Dog on a leash, Fred would pull him along on the skate board. During Jordan's quick skateboarding lesson, Bill failed to remember the part about not stepping on the very back of the board unless.........Yeah it all happened so fast, all we saw was Bill parallel to the ground, then on the ground, this God-awful sound of air leaving his lungs as he landed on his back and skating board shooting out in front of him. When we heard the "Son-of-b@#%@" coming from his deflated body, Miss Vanessa and I laughed so hard we cried. Fred the Dog stood there licking his master's face wondering what the hell happened, Jordan was running down the driveway to retrieve his skateboard, which was traveling, alone, at a high rate of speed and Miss Vanessa and I, well were still laughing! So much for that " no problem, I can do this, piece a cake" attitude. He won't be doing that again anytime soon!

On the Road with Fred's News and Friends

As we settled into the daily routine of Fred's News people always seemed surprised that we were absolutely "just there" every day of the week. The term 24/7 best described our life at that point. We knew for it to be successful we had to be visible. Family in the form of our children, Bill's sister and my sister were a valuable part of our workforce. In fact they were it. We didn't want to hire anyone until we were sure we could afford the extra help and benefits. It was extremely hard at first, emotions and tensions ran high. At times I felt like a floundering ship in the middle of an ocean storm, but eventually we sailed into much calmer seas. We felt as though we were being pulled in so many different directions and we knew the kids felt the same. Their parents could no longer drop everything and bring them somewhere, Gramma and Grampa to the rescue! If we did get away we would try to do things like tubing on the Shetucket river. They all enjoyed it and the journey was so relaxing. Their friends came along as well. Before Fred's News we tried to do it every summer. The ride was approximately three miles down the Shetucket from the Scotland Dam ending at the village of Baltic. You could make the picturesque journey quite fast if the flood gates on the dam were opened. More than once the fast flowing river rapids subsided as we rounded the first bend. It still was a great lazy river experience. Our children and many of their friends from the Village had the opportunity to see wildlife up close and at times, too personal! These stories have resurfaced in countless conversations over the years.

Each summer as business owners in the Town, we tried to organize a weekly bus trip for the kids in the area. Town leaders let us use one of the school buses, we provided the gas and were the chaperones. Doris the wise-cracking, fast yodeling school bus Mama, donated her time. Doris was also a Fred's News regular. Our sisters, older sons, Matt and Todd along with their friends were at the helm of Fred's News as we drove off for a day of fun. Youngest son Mark was always on the bus with his friends. Trips were as different as the passengers on the bus. We hit the beaches of Long Island Sound, freshwater swimming at Connecticut State parks, visits to Rocky Point Amusement Park in Rhode Island and State Fairs, if they occurred before the school season began. The trips were great and brought together a very diverse group of young people that would not and did not ordinarily "hang together." The only stipulation from the us was, "bad behavior" meant banned for life from future trips. I don't recall anyone ever being banned, however there were a few that definitely lived on the edge. These trips continued for a few summers until the School Board sold the buses, hired an out of Town contractor to provide school bus service and ended the program. It was a great time for all and an opportunity for those who were less fortunate.

Mrs. G and Me!

We all remember the earlier years of our lives. Whether it is friends from the neighborhood, college roommates, or our former teachers, when childhood friends reunite after years apart,they laugh, cry and remember. Visions of a favorite place to play or hide out during the heat of the summer, conversations of long lost love, or the carefree days of adolescence are all cherished memories of childhood that skip across your mind. People ask "what do you miss most about the younger years?" It's not so much that I miss it because I always approach each day as a new adventure. Mostly I miss friends, especially when there is going to be a gathering of those friends, and I cannot be there. A longtime patron of Fred's News as well as my most cherished friend had such a gathering this weekend. Because of the new demands of my career, we could not attend. Our friendship began many years ago, can't even remember how long it's been. We have both watched our children grow into adults with careers and families of their own. Her grandchildren have been like ours. As babies she would bring them into Fred's News and they were as much a part of the place as was she. To her grandchildren she is just Gramma, but to the children of Sprague she is Mrs. G. Every morning Mrs, G. would be at Fred's News for her breakfast. Children would stop by with their parents and say "Mrs. G is here!" I think they really thought she lived at the school, she was always there. Her day started early so that her "kids" would get the very best from her. A slight pretty woman who could control a class of talking and unruly second graders by just flipping the light switch, stood in the doorway, waiting and staring until all was calm. Never a spoken word until everyone's attention was on her, Mrs. G's look would turn to a soft, caring and dedicated woman determined to give every child her very best. Ask anyone that every passed through the halls of Sayles School while Mrs. G was there, they will say "She's the best!" Ironically, Mr. G is also a retired school teacher. He too is a soft spoken man with a wickedly dry sense of humor. His grandkids will tell you their favorite "Grampa answer" to the question' "Are we there yet?" "When the car stops and the doors open!" was his short and sweet answer! Although Mr. G did not work in the same school system as his wife, the Town of Ledyard was lucky enough to claim ownership. His ideals about teaching were similar to his wife's as was his dedication to his students. On this weekend of reminiscing about the "Good old Days", and what we miss the most, we missed our dear friends fiftieth anniversary celebration party. We wanted to be there, we've talked and laughed about you and yours and what a large part you have all played in our lives. So, simply put with all our heart...Happy Anniversary Edna & Art!

The Flowers of Fred's News

As harsh as the New England winters are, typically the spring season is an awakening of all things beautiful. As a child I remember the fun of winter but as the days grew longer and the red buds of Spring appeared we couldn't wait for that first day of warmth when heavy jackets were no longer necessary. The patrons of Fred's News also looked forward to the "growing season". They too knew it meant a sort of rebirth for the little shop and its' immediate West Main Street neighborhood. Slowly the Flowers of Fred's News would appear. The wrought iron park benches with their newly painted seats, the carved fir trees and bears with their hats, as well as the huge stuffed bears begging to be hugged by the little ones, all made their reappearance on the walkways and at the entrance of Fred's News after their long winter's sleep. Conversations inside the restaurant questioning the timing of their exit from hibernation usually started around mid February when all the Flower Shows in the area began to rev-up. Bill and I would also visit local flower & garden centers from Mystic, Connecticut to our neighbors in Vermont.

First a little history on the flowers. Bill has always loved growing anything. Years before Fred's News, he had owned a dairy farm and always loved working the land. Myself, I have always loved flowers. As a young teen I began collecting wildflowers and grasses, pressing and drying them anyway I could. My search to find new ways to preserve these beauties was relentless. Those reference books still fill my collection. With the purchase of Fred's News we didn't have much land to grow many of these glorious flowers, but we did put a small greenhouse behind the restaurant. This began the annual flower project in front of Fred's News. Eventually it evolved into a very large and time consuming project but the results were beyond description. These gorgeous and colorful flowers lined the walkways, covered the old rusted bridge railings, spilled from the flower boxes on the upper level of the building, and beautified a neighborhood that had long passed its' prime. It began at Fred's News, continued over the bridge to the 72 Degrees building, crossed West Main St., came back up towards Fred's News, but not before it first brightened the lawn of the Baltic Methodist Church, then on in front of the old Adams homestead and across the old rusted bridge opposite Fred's News. A safe guess on the length of this visual delicacy would be at least fifty yards. I only wish we had time lapsed photography so that we could of captured this beautiful progression of flowers throughout the Spring, Summer and into Fall's first hard frost. Spendidly breathtaking is just the beginning description of their beauty.

This project was not all fun, games and adoration for our neighbors and patrons. Every year we had to endure vandals and just plain theft. We learned to adapt so this visual wonder could continue. We also learned all flowers planted in the hanging boxes on the bridge should remain in their original pots. That way when vandals pulled the flowers out and threw them "overboard" into the brook that flowed under the bridge, the heavy pots kept them upright, making retrieving and replanting possible. Bill also had a young man named John weld some rugged plant hangers to hold the gigantic moss baskets. They were attached to the facade of Fred's News with a matching chain and lock. These massive hanging baskets of petunias, geraniums, ivies,fuschias and many other colorful varieties were many a hummingbirds' playground. So that we would remember all of these beautiful blooms, hundreds of photos were taken. Many people came by on a daily basis to capture these images. Every morning Bill would be out on the sidewalks, pulling the hose up and down the street at 3:00am. In the heat of the summer their thirst and need for water was extremely demanding, but Bill never let them suffer. In the fall when the days grew shorter, mums in warm colors of the autumn season made their appearance as well. Each day we would listen to the forecast. Even if we missed it, people stopped by or called to let us know "there's a chance for a frost, cover up the flowers!" We would fight a continuous battle we knew we couldn't win, Mother Nature would prevail! Slowly the little store would look so lonely without it's brillant wardrobe of flowers, but the conversations surrounding those blossoms lingered well into the cold winter months. Those who knew us well, knew next years concert of flowers we be bigger, more colorful and more splendidly breathtaking than its' predessor.

On Top of it All!

Bill started working at Fred's News two or three years before Emil asked us to buy the place. As usual my husband wanted to make an impression immediately. He already knew many of the regulars, he was one of them. He didn't want to blend in with the chaos and routine of being a short order breakfast cook. He wanted to make a statement so it was decided his hat fetish would do the trick. The first morning he showed up with a chef's hat. Not the usual chef's hat, more like the Muppets Swedish Chef hat. Complete with swedish accent, I'd say he made a statement! The crowd loved it, he was a perfectionist when it came to cooking and presentation. His motto, "serve everyone the way you want to be served." That hat gave him confidence and his kitchen became his stage. By nature he is basically a quiet person, although everyone would disagree. He doesn't like crowds or large gatherings, but the fact that he cooked out in front where everyone saw him, he could perform. In the days before the internet, jokes took much longer to "make the rounds!" People would give him a subject matter and he'd come back with a joke. Interesting combo, slinging hash and shouting jokes. However, it worked and so did the hats. Chef's hats, baseball caps, winter caps, a Sinatra-type hat coupled with the mafia attitude, and a bear head hat were all in his repertoire. Perhaps the best known and most beloved hat in his collection is one that will be talked about for years. Not that it wasn't unique, it was. Possibly the way it looked or the number of different ways he wore it, made the thing a conversation piece. Simply put it was a hotdog hat, complete with bun and condiments. Mustard to be exact. We can thank the Vermont Country Store for that work of art. If I am not mistaken it was made in the USA, now ain't that a pisser!!! Along with his Mr. Potato Head shirt, Bill too was a work of art. But the patrons loved it. Whenever we'd take a short trip or vacation I am sure they all bet the farm on whether or not Bill would bring home another hat. The bear hat got laughs from the adults but kids had a tendency to be afraid of it. On the other hand they all wanted to wear the hot dog hat. Approximately two feet long, it presented a few navigation problems when cooking. One, if you wore it sort of horizontally and turned to fast, you'd knocked out anyone standing inside the two foot safety zone. If the mood called for a more fashionable look he would wear it front to back, which required careful movement around the grill area. There was also the possibility of getting it stuck under the hood above the grill. Mostly it was worn by the young patrons that frequented the place with their parents. Many a child's picture was taken sitting on the old carousel horse in the corner, hat sitting horizontally, they looked so proud. Could of been one of Napoleon's decendents!

"Holy Wicked Sense of Humor!"

For a number of years one of our most visible regulars was the Chaplain of the Academy of the Holy Family. Father Mike, was just a regular type guy with a wicked sense of humor. When he first came to the Academy he would come to Fred's for a cup of coffee, sit alone and read his paper. Everyone always said hello, Fr. Mike acknowledged with a wide smile, a twinkle in his eyes and a quick hello. We knew he wanted to belong. We soon started including him in all conversations. Fr. Mike was the youngest of his family. They adored him and he took care of them. The family lived in Waterbury and included two sisters, one of whom was married and another unmarried brother. All lived together at the family homestead in Waterbury. Fr. Mike drove there often for visits. He also made sure they were okay, as they were a bit older. To his family and those of us who knew him, he was affectionately known as Mickey. Although he told us to call him Mickey we never did in front of the public. Fr. Mike had entered the seminary at a later age and had served in the Bridgeport Diocese. Mickey had seen violence on the streets and had been a victim himself. No wonder he had sought refuge in the small Town of Sprague. However, this man with the bubbly personality was hard to keep down. He appeared everyday at least three times a day, everyone sat with him. He became a part of our family both in a business sense as well as our immediate family. When may Dad passed away suddenly, Fr. Mike was there and presided alongside the parish priest during the service. He spoke softly and made sense of everything. That twinkle never left his eyes. You knew everything would be okay for us as well as Dad.

Did I mention his wicked sense of humor? This man could keep a straight face and conjure up a story of unbelievable proportions. Tucked in the back of Fred's News was an old toy cap pistol. One evening a regular to the place named Bill D. and his elderly Mom were dining at the restaurant. Mom decided she needed to talk with Fr. Mike. He approached her (he had to preside over evening Mass at the convent and had on his collar and black cassock), she asked for his blessing. With that dry stone-faced look, he whipped out the pistol he had tucked under his cassock and said, "give me all your money!", then put the pistol away, heading out the door to say Mass. I don't think Bill D.'s Mom was ever the same! Of course all thought it funny, but old Mrs. D didn't know him as well as all of us. Another mentionable: The Boston Flower Show. Fr. Mike knew we would go every year and asked to tag along. Sure, he had never been and he was just one of our family members! We had a grand day, enjoying all the beautiful blooms, after a particularly long, cold and dreary New England winter. We approached a vendor to buy some candy, the line was a bit long. Fr. Mike was like a child with A.D.D. No he didn't want to wait. That little voice in me said "let's go". To late! "I was in line first!" he bellowed, "Do you have a problem with waiting on me?" he loudly questioned. That poor clerk didn't know what to say but "Forgive me, I am so sorry" then took Fr. Mike's order. That man never cracked a smile, thanked the clerk, then walked away. When he had reached a safe distance, he broke into a wide smile saying "We still have so much to see!" Oh my God what a brat!

Fr. Mike is now retired in Vero Beach. About a year and a half ago he was again the victim of violence as he listened to someone's confession. He came through his ordeal with flying colors. That wicked sense of humor heals all!

From Evolution to Revolution

Long before we purchased Fred's News from "the brothers" it had the distinction of being the place to go if you needed info. With the transfer of ownership it was a given that this distinction was to be upheld. Please know that it's not a bad thing, on the the contrary it's great for business. If someone came in to find out "the news" there was a pretty good chance they'd stay and order something. It looked pretty obvious that you were nosey if you just sat there staring at people immersed in conversation and their meal. Just a cup of coffee was the fee to be involved in that conversation. However, on the down side, every word that flowed from patrons mouths were linked to: "you know what Bill and Diane said?". Better yet the famous line was "Ya wanna know what I heard at Fred's?" Unfortunately the latter also meant, "Diane & Bill said it!" In the early years we should have adopted a law that covered conversations originating in Fred's News, preferably the Vegas approach, "What is said at Fred's News, stays in Fred's News!" Many a time we had to remind people, "just because you heard it in Fred's News, it doesn't mean Bill or Diane said it!" Case in point: Hogan started a rumor just to see how far it would travel. Yes, he was in Fred's News at the time it flowed from his lips! "Did you know there's a pregnant nun at the Sister's of Charity Convent?" Hogan asked questioningly. Of course no one in their right mind would touch that question! As a matter of fact it was largely ignored for the remainder of the day. As the week progressed, however, there were whispers, a few leading edge questions, but by week's end we decided to ask some patrons what the hell they were talking about. That little statement had been repeated so many times, it had evolved into a major news-breaking story that was was immediately squashed. "Bill and Diane said there were four nuns pregnant at the Convent, the local priest was the father and he wanted them to have abortions!" Dear God what the hell were people thinking! Hogan thought it hysterical as did many people who'd heard the stupid remark, me, I didn't think it was so Goddamn comical!