In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

[ ix ] Preface There were no signposts, only memories. It was a Saturday or Sunday afternoon in late spring. I was attending an Amherst College reunion with my wife and young son. We had a couple of free hours. On a whim, I decided we would try to find what was left of Belchertown State School, where I had worked briefly as a volunteer during my sophomore or junior year. The three of us climbed into our blue Volvo and headed out Route 9, Belchertown Road, through wooded countryside, past what had been a small graveyard where a friend and I once rubbed wax paper impressions of an old marker, past the little roadhouse where as seniors with access to a roommate’s car we sometimes escaped for dinner. After twenty minutes or so of driving we arrived at the intersection with Route 202. I knew to turn right onto North Main Street and drive into Belchertown proper, past the town’s long, lovely common, and then right again at the far end, down the hill. We must have gotten close—I could sense the proximity— but we never found the school, and I was too stubborn to ask directions. It would be another decade (by then I had begun to research this book) before I found the abandoned site, its foreboding buildings boarded shut and overgrown with weeds. My time at the state school was, as I have said, brief—consisting of part of an afternoon every week or other week for a couple of semesters, taking boys from one of the cottages to run outside, play ball, and walk in the woods. The setting was idyllic; on fall days, the crisp air and colored leaves stirred the soul as only autumn in New England can. We would park in a lot near the administration building and walk to the cottage. I remember noise—lots of it—as we opened the door and waited in the front hall for theboystobegathered.Wehelpedthemputoncoats,andthentheyrushed outdoors to the ball fields. The group was diverse in its abilities—though, [ x ] preface I now realize, all were what they then called “higher functioning types.” Several were physically deformed. Most craved attention; some wanted to hold hands. Memories of one boy, whose name I have forgotten, haunt me. He liked to walk in the woods behind the state school fields, up the hill to a spot overlooking a small lake. There we would stop and talk—he, with much feeling, about the beautiful landscape around us. I wondered why this sensitive and articulate young man was at Belchertown. Little did I know and, sadly, I lacked sufficient curiosity to pursue it. What became of my young friend? I do not know. Such memories, long dormant but lately roused, led me to write this book. There are many to thank for their help with this book, several of whom I would like to mention by name. First and foremost, I am indebted to Doris Dickinson, longtime resident of Belchertown, author of several engaging local histories, and for many years archivist of the Belchertown Historical Association. When I began this project I did not know Doris and did not know that she herself had been collecting material on the state school for some time. Doris befriended me early in the project, generously made available to me all of her research both old and new, introduced me to others (such as former state school employees) with their own stories to tell, and always encouraged me to keep going. Thank you, Doris. If a book such as this can be said to have a muse, you were it. I also thank Owen Maloney, director of the Clapp Memorial Library in Belchertown at the time I was doing my research, who put the full resources of the library at my disposal—including his cozy second-floor office. Owen and his staff extended every courtesy to me on my frequent visits. You will not find a more courteous, friendly, helpful group of people in any library anywhere in the world. Thanks as well to the librarians, assistant librarians, and staff at Amherst College, Belchertown Historical Association, Boston Public Library, Forbes Library in Northampton, Jones LibraryinAmherst,MassachusettsStateLibraryinBoston,MountHolyoke College, Springfield Public Library, and the University of Massachusetts Amherst, who allowed me to use their facilities and responded promptly and courteously to my many questions and requests; Don LaBrecque of the Massachusetts Department of Developmental Resources (formerly the Department of...

Share