Temporary Tourist

Editor’s Note: This is the ninth in a summer-long series in which Advocate Assistant Editor Judith Fairweather, a Berkshire County native, explores the county as a tourist would (no special media accommodations) and visits places she has never been. Read about all of her visits at blogtheberkshires.com.

By JUDITH FAIRWEATHER
WILLIAMSTOWN — On a Saturday in early August, Sheep Hill, home of the Williamstown Rural Lands Foundation, was holding a concert and candle float event with Lui Collins. The information about the event said to bring a picnic and a blanket, and that dessert and drinks would be provided. So I packed the kids in the car, stopped at the Store at Five Corners for some chips and sandwiches, and we headed up, not really sure what we would find.
The sign on Cold Spring Road (a k a Route 7) marks the place well. We found parking right at the bottom of the hill, not realizing there was additional parking up top. We were met with a breathtaking view of the open space and hillside after our climb.
The farmhouse, dating back to the early 19th century, sat to our left. Now the Mary & Craig Lewis Center for Nature and Rural Heritage, it houses a lending library, local history and nature exhibit, classroom space and also has binoculars and field guides for loan while on the property. But perhaps more importantly with two kids in tow, it also houses beautiful bathrooms.

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By JUDITH FAIRWEATHER
Humbled. Uninformed. Deprived. Enlightened. Engaged. Enthralled. These are words to describe how I’ve been feeling since my latest Temporary Tourist excursion.
Back at the end of July, I journeyed down to Great Barrington, ostensibly to take some photos of the preview of the W.E.B. Du Bois Boyhood Homesite and Memorial Park (I found it impossible to simply take photos and was compelled to write a story that my compassionate editor in her benevolence allowed to run). Once there, I discovered a memorial now getting off the ground after almost 40 years in the making. I also discovered something called the Upper Housatonic Valley African American Heritage Trail guide — a map of the sites pertaining to African Americans in our area who played pivotal roles in our state and nation’s history.
Looking at the 40 Massachusetts sites on the map (and an additional eight sites in Connecticut), I encountered names I had never heard in my 44 years of living here and 12 years of public education: Mum Bett, the Rev. Samuel Harrison, Agrippa Hull. I learned things that I never knew. For example, there was a Berkshire County chapter of the NAACP founded here in 1918, which sent residents to participate in the 1963 March on Washington, registered voters during the Freedom Summer of 1964 in Alabama and Mississippi, helped create affordable housing in Pittsfield and organized sympathy protests at the former Woolworth’s in Pittsfield to protest the refusal of the chain to serve African Americans at their lunch counters in the South.
Where was all this information when I was in school? How is it that I have lived here for so long and yet remained so unaware of this important facet of our history? I resolved to embark on a journey to change that.

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Editor’s Note: This is the seventh in a summer-long series in which Advocate Assistant Editor Judith Fairweather, a Berkshire County native, explores the county as a tourist would (no special media accommodations) and visits places she has never been. Read about all of her visits at blogtheberkshires.com.

It’s never a good sign when you set out for a journey and find yourself driving straight toward pitch-black clouds.
As I headed south, the claps of thunder rang in my ears, the heavens opened to let the rain fall down in straight sheets of water and the lightning bolts zigzagged their way to the ground. I nervously eyed the tree branches above me as I crept down Route 7, my windshield wipers working furiously, but to no affect.
Thankfully, the rain started to let up before I arrived at The Guthrie Center housed in the Old Trinity Church, and my trials and tribulations (including my soaked feet from the puddle in which I parked my car) were all worth it. It was much bigger and more imposing than I had expected. I had traveled down on this stormy Thursday night for the weekly Hootenanny. Sign-ups are between 7 and 8 p.m., when the performances start. I had arrived at about 7:15 so I could get the lay of the land.

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Editor’s Note: This is the sixth in a summer-long series in which Advocate Assistant Editor Judith Fairweather, a Berkshire County native, explores the county as a tourist would (no special media accommodations) and visits places she has never been. Read about all of her visits at blogtheberkshires.com.

BECKET — The late afternoon sun had dipped behind the trees, bathing the Berkshire hills beyond Jacob’s Pillow’s Inside/Out stage in a soft glow.
The wooden benches provided for seating were nearly full shortly before the recent 6:30 performance. Others chose to bring chairs or blankets. It was a glorious setting for a glorious adventure in dance.
My friend Sharon had agreed to accompany me to this free performance. The evening started with the easy trip up Route 20 east out of Lee. I could tell on the journey that Sharon, who knows me and my geographic/spatial/map reading difficulties well, had some trepidation about my ability to find the place in the wilds of Becket. (Never mind that I had successfully navigated us both to our favorite venue, The Dream Away Lodge, in even wilder parts of Becket, previously.)
I was happy to offer to Sharon that one can get to the Pillow with — gasp — no map needed. As we headed up the mountain, soon enough we started to see the vertical banners hanging above, guiding our way. Shortly thereafter, we came up the Pillow’s wonderful, huge, bright yellow signs, which heralded our arrival at George Carter Road to our left. We had made it, without getting lost. Yea me!

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I can't tell you the number of times I have driven right past the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art in North Adams on the way to Ericka's house. Each time, I (or my oldest daughter) would say, "Man, we've got to get there!"
Thus, it was a logical choice for my next column, especially with the added lure of the annual Bang On A Can music festival. Ericka and her two kids were going to meet us there, but we arrived first. (Did you know that at your local library you can check out free passes to attractions, just like you would check out a book? No kidding. It's one of the best-kept secrets ever!)

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WILLIAMSTOWN — As a former high school social studies teacher, I seem to invariably be drawn to places that “feed my history need.” That need is what drew me recently to Williams College Museum of Art’s “Manifestos: American Dreams and Their Founding Documents” exhibit.
Having never been to WCMA before, the first challenge was parking. The fates were on my side the day of my late-afternoon visit, because I was able to find a spot right on the circular drive by the building. There aren’t many spots there, though; a sign proclaimed there was additional parking across the street.
I grabbed a brochure and a white piece of paper that listed the exhibits and their accompanying exhibit halls and floors on the way in, but was momentarily stumped by the extremely discreet signage. Turning the paper over, I discovered a map on the back.
However, what you have to know about me is that I have something I have always jokingly referred to as a “geographic visual spatial disability.” For all I know, it could be a real thing. What this means to me is that with the exception of road maps, I have trouble figuring out schematics, particularly assembly instructions for kids’ toys.
I couldn’t make heads or tails out of the map of the galleries. What I did ascertain, from the front (which was in list form — phew!) was that the gallery I was looking for was upstairs.

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STOCKBRIDGE — It is an indescribable treat to have the chance to get a glimpse of the daily lives of the ultra rich who created the Gilded Age “cottages” in Berkshire County.
Naumkeag, one of the Trustees of Reservations’ properties, located in Stockbridge, allows just that.
The 44-room mansion, completed in 1886 by Joseph Hodges Choate and his wife, Caroline Dutcher Sterling Choate, houses the entire contents left when their daughter Mabel willed the property to the Trustees upon her death in 1958.

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