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!