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Tales from Tri-Town

Wordly wise, Fitchburg goes mad for spelling contest fad

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Back in the 1870s, public school curriculum put a lot of emphasis on rote learning — and proper spelling was crucial. These and other literacy skills might advance young people out of the laboring classes to clerical and professional positions. However, our long-ago ancestors also discovered that spelling could be fun!

Two years after the Panic of 1873, which brought a national depression, Fitchburg was still suffering but you’d never know it from the number of spelling matches that year which gathered hundreds of residents at nail-biting competitions of brain power.

The fad started on the Ides of March, 1875, when an item in the Sentinel mentioned “an exciting spelling match” in Easton, Pennsylvania between students from two local academies. Fitchburg’s Dr. Jabez Fisher and his wife noticed this story and got a brilliant idea: why not create a local “spelling match.”

This local couple had influence: Dr. Fisher was a “hydropathic” physician; musical director of the Fitchburg Choral Union, and the first chairman of the first Board of Water Commissioners in Fitchburg, which oversaw the construction of Overlook and Marshall Reservoirs. He also presided over “Pomoland” his family fruit orchard and served as a Senator in the State Legislature (Fisher Road is named after his family).

Within days, the Ladies of the Universalist Society planned a “Spelling Match,” on April 1, with “umpires” Stephen Shepley and D. H. Merriam (an attorney and later the fourth Mayor of Fitchburg). Tickets were just 15 cents.

Mistakes were on easy words, such as “fabrick” for “fabric,” and “fruntere” for “frontier,” as well as ten-dollar ones: aesthetic, heterogeneous, received, and authorities. The custom then was that a misspelling meant the next speller tried his or her skill at the same word. How many of us — under the pressure and excitement of a public match — could place all the ‘r’s in the right spot with “referring,” or the placement of ‘c’s in “accommodated” and “lacquer”? These words “sent three into the back seat” according to Sentinel coverage.

Despite Fisher’s eclectic background (think of all the unusual words he encountered in his various occupations), Mrs. Fisher’s side performed well. Two finalists from each side remained until Miss Lizzie Sleeper a pupil at the Day Street School, put an “e” into the word “using,” and Mr. Watson left an “e” out of Beethoven. Miss Lora Alger who worked at the Sentinel won by default, and her trophy was Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary and — one hopes — hours of bragging rights at the office.

Eight days later, April 9, 1875, another match with school children and adults was held which drew nearly 100 participants. The students easily trounced the adults on words like “atafia” and “achromatic.”

Finally, “Miss Nellie E. Bates was the only representative of the schools with Fred Fosdick and Mrs. James H. Whitcomb for the other,” wrote the Sentinel writer. “Euphony was too much for Miss Bates and gillyflower sent Miss Whitcomb down, leaving Mr. Fosdick the sole survivor.”

Four days later, on April 13, a third spelling match “was well attended. Schools had 52 contestants, opposite side 28.” A week later, the fourth Fitchburg spelling match pitted ladies against gentlemen. The Sentinel writer observed that the words  “were by no means easy,” and that “the first to fall was a gentleman and “niche” was the word that dropped him.”

Before long, champion Frederick Fosdick and Day Street School pupil Miss Lizzie Sleeper were in the finals. Poor Mr. Fosdick was obliged to spell four words to one for each of his four female opponents “and finally slipped on ‘solecism.’ “

Miss Abbie A. Whittemore, a teacher in the West Fitchburg grammar school took the laurels, while Miss Lizzie Sleeper won a barrel of the best St. Louis flour.

Whatever became of those spellers?

The aftermath of spelling match fever must have been a letdown for all participants – there are no records of subsequent matches for many years. However, Frederick Fosdick was elected as Fitchburg’s ninth mayor in 1886, and Lizzie Sleeper got top marks at Fitchburg High School, and later became a teacher there. Just think how far she’d have gone had women the vote, and the opportunity to run for office. But as the consistently highest-scoring female speller in Fitchburg, her title remains her own.

Sally Cragin is an award-winning writer and the Director of Be PAWSitive Therapy Pets and Community Education.

Tales from Tri-Town: Celebrating our local matriarchs with more than flowers

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In 2024 Mothers’ Day will be a century old, after informal beginnings in 1907, when Anna Jarvis of Grafton, West Virginia had a memorial service for her own mother. Many female friends attended and spoke about Anna Marie’s desire for a holiday just for mothers.

Here in the greater Tri-Town area, aka North Central Massachusetts, the concept of Mother’s Day took time to gain traction. In the May 7, 1926 Fitchburg Sentinel, Brooks Pharmacy had the only ad mentioning the holiday and offered a typical Mothers’ Day gift: “Thompson’s Spa Chocolates Boston inn Beautiful “Birth of Love” Package.”

However, this ad was dwarfed by an adjacent quarter page featuring the new Eureka Vacuum Cleaner available at Fitchburg Gas & Electric Light Company. No mention of the holiday; just a nicely-dressed lady pushing an upright model and the slogan: “Spring cleaning? She doesn’t dread it!”

Fortunately, by 1931, Mother’s Day ads start popping up, usually for apparel. My favorite was from Main Street’s Academy Hat Works boasting the quality and variety of their hats including: Sailors, Poke, Boucle Turbans, Small Brim, Panamas or “A Real Swagger Hat” (“Collegiate — very swanky — made of better suede in every wanted shade: 85 cents.”)

I can imagine wearing my Swagger Hat as I wandered down to Central Hardware, a store that definitely got the memo about the holiday. Their company advertised flowers for mother. The hot sellers of 1931?  Geraniums, Hydrangeas, Ferns, Begonias, Petunias, Vincas and of course “Extra Large Potted Roses.” Moeckel, the florist was on point with a tagline that is now very familiar: “Say it With Flowers.”

In the 1940s, everyone knew about Mothers’ Day — even if they weren’t celebrating. My friend, Dr. Joe Cronin, (one of seven children of an Irish mother who’d emigrated to Roxbury) told me “Mother’s Day wasn’t a big deal — this time of year we were all out playing baseball.”

Since my mother’s birthday was May 15, and my grandmother’s birthday was May 14, and mid-May coincides with numerous perennials blooming, there was no shortage of lily of the valley and lilacs. Saying it with flowers? Easy-peasy.

However, we do need a holiday that celebrates women who may not have had kids, but whose ideas about nurturance and strengthening their communities influence and extend across generations.

The first local woman on that list should be Eleanor Norcross, daughter of Fitchburg’s first mayor, Amasa Norcross (1872-1873). She grew up on Main Street, graduated from Fitchburg Academy in 1872, attended Wheaton Female Seminar (now College) and became a painter.

She moved to Paris in her 30s and sent paintings, sculpture, furniture, prints, and artifacts back home to Fitchburg to be displayed on the third floor of Fitchburg’s City Hall as well as the Rodney Wallace Library. Her dream was to create an institution that displayed art as well as provided art classes to nurture residents, young and old. So when you visit Fitchburg Art Museum, you are stepping into her dream.

Next, tip your Academy Hat Shop bonnet to Leominster Abolitionist Frances Drake. Author/Historian Mark Bodanza writes in “Leominster Chronicles: Tales from the Comb City” that “Harriet Beecher Stowe and Frances Drake both railed against the fugitive slave law, a measure, which with some irony, was aimed to preserve the Union. It did not, but to the contrary drove a larger wedge between the North and South.

“The two little ladies shared another common experience which motivated their heartfelt efforts – human loss. Mrs. Stowe lost a son at a young age. “It was at his dying bed and at his grave I learned what a poor slave mother must feel when her child is torn away from her,” she wrote.

“Mrs. Drake, who was born Dolly Wilder on October 25, 1814, lost three family members in a six month period before she was eighteen years old. Her mother died in November of 1831, an infant brother, Albert died February 12, 1832 and her younger sister Adeline, passed on May 14, 1832 at fourteen years old. Mrs. Drake took on the role of motherhood at a very young age. Undoubtedly the losses suffered by these two ladies contributed to a compassionate heart and steadfast moral convictions.”

I asked friends to share memories of  Mother’s Days past and heard about wonderful mothers all across our region — mothers who received gifts of stemless blooms, and smiled; mothers who only took showers who showed delight at bottles of bubble bath, and mothers who are dearly missed to this day. And so, on this day, celebrate your mum, and yes, you can “say it with flowers,” but if you find the perfect “swagger hat,” pop it on her head.

Sally Cragin is an award winning journalist and the director of Be PAWSitive Therapy Pets and Community Education. Email sallycragin@gmail.com.

Tales from Tri-Town: Friends, family underscore Easter traditions

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Do you ever have the experience of meeting someone and saying right away: “Oh, we’re going to be good friends!” I recently had this experience at Fitchburg Historical Society as I looked through a box labelled “Diaries,” and found one from 1914 kept by a Helen Hardy in Fitchburg. Here’s her entry from Sunday, January 4, 1914:

“Put up a holler & pouted so I didn’t have to go to church. Papa wouldn’t let me read all day. It rained and snowed and hailed. It was quite cold to. If it freezes it will be great skating. School tomorrow until Feb. 28.”

Any girl who’d spend the day reading inside while a storm rages outside definitely has the right attitude.

With Easter (and Passover and Ramadan) this season, I was curious to see how Helen celebrated the holiday. The family had an outing. “Sunday, April 12. Easter Sunday wore my new things. Fine day but rather windy. This afternoon, Chet, Ma, Pa, Paul & me went to ride in the new Auto. The motor is awfully silent.”

Wishing you all a fine day, and hope everyone is wearing “new things.”

Easter memories

Do you have a family Easter tradition? Amy Lantry Jue grew up in Lunenburg received a solid chocolate bunny every year, right into adulthood thanks to her “sentimental Dad.” As Amy’s own children got older, “each year, I’ve kept my Dad’s tradition,” and her adult daughters can expect chocolate bunnies again this year.

Chris Mulholland of Gardner grew up in an early 19th century home in Lunenburg. His memories included “sneaking down the stairs to see what the e-bunny had brought. The door to the dining room was locked but we could peek through the old keyhole. There we would spy the tall baskets covered with colored transparent plastic wrap, and a hollow chocolate rabbit in gold foil sitting on bright green shredded plastic grass, surrounded by shiny jelly beans and hard-boiled eggs we had drawn designs on with wax and then dipped in bowls of vinegary dye the day before. Egg salad sandwiches for a late snack!”

Dani Kumpaleinen loved the egg hunts during her childhood in western Mass. and remembers that one year “the parents assigned each kid a different color, and we kids all had the same number of eggs to find. We could only collect the ones in our color and had to leave the others.”

Other traditions: new shoes from Goodwins (Paul Grant of Fitchburg), or new outfits “flowered hats, white gloves, little purses, new dresses and coats and jackets (Jane Lonnqvist, Fitchburg). Jane and others had very busy days during Holy Week.

Joanne McGuirk of Fitchburg sang in her church choir and remembers: “We would start after Holy Thursday Service at Sacred Heart, then proceed to St. Joseph’s in Cleghorn, Immaculate Conception, St. Francis, St. Bernard’s and some years go to St. Leo’s in Leominster.”

Amy Newberg of Leominster grew up in Pennsylvania and notes: “Apart from having a Seder on the first night (some do a second night), Passover traditions are limited to getting drunk on sticky sweet wine at the Seder and avoiding leavened bread for eight days. Usually being the youngest at the table I had to ask the Four Questions in Hebrew. Luckily there’s a tune that goes with it which makes it easier to memorize for those of us not great at reading Hebrew.”

Rev. Wil Darcangelo, pastor of First Parish Unitarian at the Upper Common, Fitchburg had a memorable Easter morning when he was nine-years-old and sang his first solo in “One Early Easter Morning.”

“I really wanted to memorize it like the grown-ups did. The choir director, Marion Dalton (later Rogers), cautioned me against it, but I insisted. The first verse went perfectly, and the choir sang the refrains. The second verse, however, must have ascended to heaven before I could get the words out. I completely blanked.

“The choir, realizing what was happening, began to sing, as did the congregation, in an attempt to get me back on track. I stood my ground and started to sing again with their help.  I finished the rest of the song without incident. That is, until I walked crying to my seat. I was embarrassed, but at the same time, reassured that I was so loved and supported in my struggle. I’ve carried that feeling with me throughout my life.”

Another year, when we were a bit older, they put numbered slips of paper inside the eggs. We could collect as many as we wanted, and at the end we had a great time opening the eggs and finding out which number corresponded to which prize. The prizes ranged from dollar bills to scratch tickets to candy, nothing major. It was a lot of fun!”

I am glad it is an Easter Season. That lasts 50 days after Easter Sunday. A beautiful time of year.

My sister and brother were older with their own families. Get together would be Easter Sunday. Also, I sang in Sacred Heart choir. Memories to always remember. Thank you and Happy Easter!

Famous encounters in the tri-town area

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Have you brushed elbows with someone famous? If you live in the Greater Tri-Town area, chances are that you have indeed. Fitchburg and Leominster have seen plenty of celebrities — most recently Ben Affleck and George Clooney who filmed scenes from The Tender Bar in Fitchburg’s Ward 6 a few years ago.

But most famous folks who visit here have come from the political sphere. Fitchburg was a frequent stop for candidates on the campaign trail, and on Sept. 2, 1902, President Theodore Roosevelt took the train to New England. He was stumping for Republican candidates, and, since Massachusetts’ Sen. Henry Cabot Lodge’s seat was considered safe, focused his speech on his disapproval of antiTrust conversation:

“Those men who advocate wild and foolish remedies which would be worse than the disease are doing all in their power to perpetuate the evils against which they nominally war, because, if we are brought face to face with the naked issue of either keeping or totally destroying a prosperity in which the majority share, but in which some share improperly, why, as sensible men, we must decide that it is a great deal better that some people should prosper too much than that no one should prosper enough,” he declared.

Fitchburg was the first stop on that day’s activities (he’d spent the previous week in New Hampshire and Vermont), and he finished up the afternoon in Springfield and Westfield. Since the Rough Rider visited, we haven’t had another sitting president — but plenty of future presidents.

The lore in my family is that when Richard and Pat Nixon took the train to Fitchburg to campaign for Eisenhower, my mother, then a Fitchburg High School student had personally handed a bunch of yellow roses to Pat. (Note: my mother Janet, in her lifetime, neither confirmed nor denied this story; however in her jewelry box was a gold “Ike” pendant and matching earrings.)

More recently, Ken Jones of Fitchburg, organized a rally for Sen. Howard Baker, Republican Presidential candidate at the British American Club in 1980. He remembers “it was a pretty packed house. He didn’t stay in Fitchburg, it was pretty much a whirlwind tour.”

Jones vividly recalls members of the Secret Service “wearing brand new jeans and flannel shirts with high and tight haircuts, playing paper makers. The advance guys had me give a full tour of the British American Club, Log Cabin and the little restaurant. I just barely met the Senator. He was a nice enough guy.”

Music to your ears

Richard F. Boursy, music librarian at the Irving S. Gilmore Music Library at Yale notes his department has “just finished surveying the papers of Ralph Kirkpatrick (1911-1984), who was the world’s most eminent harpsichordist in the middle part of the 20th century.”

Kirkpatrick grew up in North Leominster, at 856 Main St., and attended Harvard, later becoming a professor at the Yale School of Music. Among his papers are hundreds of programs for concerts, including one from the concert Sergei Rachmaninoff performed in Leominster on Nov. 23, 1923.

Rachmaninoff began the concert with Bach’s English Suite No. 2, moved on to works by Mendelssohn, Chopin and Liszt, before playing two of his own works (The Etude Tableau in B Minor and G Minor; and “Hopak” co-written with Mussorgsky) on a Steinway piano. If any historians are reading this, and are curious about “researching the concert life of Fitchburg and Leominster in the 1920s, the Kirkpatrick Papers would be a great source,” adds Boursy.

In more recent years, numerous clubs and bars regularly booked live music. Jones remembers meeting Karen Carpenter at a local show in 1974, and getting a cassette signed by Don MacLean, (“American Pie) at a concert at Coolidge Park.

Athletes aplenty

But it’s not just musicians who made north central Mass. a stop on the road. Historian Eunice Halbedel grew up in Fitchburg, and remembers when the Bruins practiced at the Wallace Civic Center.

“They used to come in to Fitchburg Ford, where I worked, to rent cars,” she recalls. “One day a friend and I went to Peter Pan [restaurant] after work and the team was there. Bobby recognized me and invited us over to share some of their appetizers. I didn’t talk much but enjoyed listening to their banter.”

Martha Wells Quirk remembers seeing Derek Sanderson, Gerry Cheevers, Pie Mackenzie and other Boston Bruins one day. “They were in street clothes leaving the Civic Center. I remember thinking, how lucky am I to be able to experience this!” Quirk also recalls a story that the players “trashed the Thunderbird Motel,” but no police records have surfaced.

Sally Cragin serves as councilor-at-large in Fitchburg and is an award-winning journalist. Did you meet someone famous out this way? Email sallycragin@gmail.com — we’d love to see your story!

Tales from Tri-Town: An ode to Parker Rice

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Our hearts went out to the Rice family last week as they mourned the loss of Parker Rice, patriarch, and former owner of Hyland Rice on River Street, Fitchburg. Parker was 97 — three years shy of a century — and according to those who knew him for decades — a man who was always in a great mood.

“My Dad was a positive soul,” said his daughter Rebecca Rice, a third generation choreographer and dancer. “He had an answer for everything and that embraced being creative and finding ways to ‘make it work.’ On top of that, it was about getting along with everyone while staying true to ‘what was right and honest.’ Hard to do, but we honor him for that approach.”

June Flinkstrom worked at Hyland Rice from 1978 through 1994 as the store manager and reminisces fondly about “what a great boss he was. He knew what he wanted and how to accomplish it. We’d be at the weekly planning meetings and he would have written down and scheduled everything. He really knew how to keep his business going. And he valued the people around him and let it be known.”

Peter Timms knew Parker for decades and observed: “I never saw Parker when he wasn’t upbeat and positive — he was extraordinarily even-keeled. He dedicated a large part of his life to the Scouts and young people. I think the kind of spirit that you get from the Scouts he took very seriously right into adulthood.”

Parker had a lifelong love of the great outdoors and Romayne Timms recalls going to a fishing camp in Vermont with the Rices — a sojourn accompanied by torrents of rain. But Parker wasn’t put off — “he was really persistent with his fishing and come wind come weather he’d be out. On the last day he finally caught a salmon, so we had lunch. It wasn’t just the persistence, he was pretty damp when they came back.”

Even as Fitchburg’s Main Street suffered during the rise of  exurban malls, Parker never lost faith with downtown and his community. “He was one of those people you really associate with the city and had a deep commitment to the region,” Timms said.

Parker wasn’t all business — he also loved to dance. His mother was acclaimed teacher/dancer/choreographer Marion Rice; his sister was modern dancer Carolyn Rice Brown, most famous for her work with Merce Cunningham, and he married Mona Irvine, who began the dance department at Cushing Academy, and taught in Fitchburg for decades.

Toddy Martel remembers him “from dancing school. He was a total gentleman and a beautiful dancer because his mother taught him from the beginning.”

“Dance was a vivid and powerful part of our lives,” Rebecca Rice remembers. “Fox trot, waltz, jitterbug, salsa … all of it. And my mom’s brother, Laurie Irvine trained in ballroom dance with my grandmother, and danced with Auntie Carol. Dance kept us all happy, connected, and in love.”

Heroes of the Civil War

I am at the Fitchburg Historical Society every week with my “research buddy” Dr. Joe Cronin, and we’re currently gathering stories for a future Stratton Players and Historical Society event: “Brothers in Blue — From the Battlefront to Main Street — A Salute to Civil War Soldiers Who Joined Fitchburg Police Department” (June 13, 2023).

Dr. Joe and I have identified seven vets who became police officers. These men fought in nearly every theatre of war, and some held rank in Fitchburg Police Department, such as Russell Obed Houghton, the first chief when Fitchburg became a city in 1872.

We will cover the distinguished career of Chief Houghton in a future column. For now, we have a mystery having to do with a sharp increase of Constables between 1875 and 1877. In 1875, there were 33 Constables; in 1876, 49 and in 1877, 58. What was happening in Fitchburg that required so many more officers in such a short span of time?

Next, we looked at the crimes. In 1876, non-violent offences ranged from “Gaming on the Lord’s Day” (4), to “Forgery” (3). However, “Drunkenness” had 290 offenders and alcohol related crimes (“liquor nuisance” and “selling liquor without license”) added eight more.

That is a lot of drunks, to be sure. And there were probably plenty of drunks who weren’t arrested because they stumbled peaceably home. Other frequent crimes include “Vagrancy” (79). But the violent crimes are significant: “assault and battery” (27),  “with dangerous weapon,” (2), and “on officers,” (4) also suggests alcohol played a role.

For those local historians interested in this topic – we’d love your thoughts as to what prompted the sharp rise in officers. At the same time, Dr. Joe and I are also researching temperance organizations in Fitchburg — in 1879, there are seven, including “Woman’s Temperance Union,” and “Father Matthew Total Abstinence Benevolent Society.” Clearly, they were needed.

Sally Cragin is an award-winning journalist and a city councilor-at-large for Fitchburg

Tales from Tri-Town: The road less traveled

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Late winter thaws means that road quality becomes the foremost topic for many Tri-Town residents. As frozen earth softens with rising temps, all the silt, sand, gravel, pebbles, cobbles, and boulders (in ascending order of size) which had been locked in ice reconfigure. This process stresses out the asphalt. Poor asphalt. Its formerly consistent bedding has basically played “Doe-si-doe, choose a new partner,” with millions of rock particles, with the result that cars can go bumpity-bumpity.

Yes, I find the potholes and cracks annoying. But my strategy for coping with the roads is this: drive at or slightly below the speed limit. Driving 25 mph on surface roads on which many people roar by at 35 or 40 mph is a more comfortable ride. I also wear amber glasses at night to sharpen my vision. In darkness, rough roads are not so easily seen. Amber lenses also soften the impact of white headlights on oncoming vehicles.

And consider this — in olden days, cobblestone streets prevailed. Summer Street, in Fitchburg was one such street. Its width was to accommodate street cars, although the photograph shows more exciting vehicles: the arrival of the Ringling Brothers Circus to Fitchburg in 1911.

With the circus set up on the Summer Street Fairgrounds, just imagine the clatter of hooves and wheels on those cobblestones. That picture reminds me of a story told to me by Ida “Gram” Ellis, our next door neighbor in Lunenburg.

Gram was a third grandmother in my life, and as she was born in 1892, I heard many stories about “the olden days.” Gram made her own soap out of lye; fried her own doughnuts (staple breakfast food with coffee for many New Englanders for decades); embroidered and crocheted, and never drove a car. She lived in the house her descendant, farmer Greg Burns of Oak Tree Homestead and Forge still lives in with his wife.

I love to think of the world Gram lived in — how quiet and still it was. There was electricity, but no amplified sound to speak of. One of Gram’s stories was about being a child and walking to Lunenburg Center. All of a sudden the fire bells rang out. Before long, a team of horses drawing a steamer tore out of the old firehouse. When the horse hooves hit the cobblestones, sparks flew, the wheels rumbled, men yelled and Gram told me the sound was so loud she fainted dead away.

Hollis The Mountain Man and directions

Can you get there from here? Sometimes — you just can’t. Try to get to Leominster from West Fitchburg: you need to go further west on Route 2 before turning east. And we have some sign placements that make your brain hurt. Do you ever drive past the 50/50 Diner and see the signs that indicate you are heading north and south simultaneously? (Three of them: North 12, West 2A, South 31, lined up like a set for some Theatre of the Absurd.

My friend Hollis the Mountain Man would rather draw you a map than give you verbal directions because he still charts his path by many long-gone landmarks. “Go by the big field which used to be Levine’s Farm, dotted with black and white Holstein cows,” is another way of saying, “Drive down Lunenburg’s Wal-Mart mountain.” And “Take the road that used to go by Cook’s Farm,” may eventually get you to Groton.

Fortunately, many landmarks in the Greater Tri-Town region are not subject to change. Thanks to sensible land management, Leominster’s Sholan Farms will be a “forever” landmark, just as The Boulder is for Fitchburg’s Upper Common.

Of course, the best directions aren’t directions at all. How many of you have met a stranger in town who’s looking for such-and-such a place. You start explaining how to get there (having determined they don’t have the right gizmo on their phone-thingy), and then say: “It’s easier if you follow me in your car.”

My fellow Tri-Townies — that is no defeat. Guiding a fellow traveler is a triumph of civility, collaboration and — of course — social distance — which Yankees have specialized in for centuries.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Snark is not a modern concept. As my family ate the last chocolates from the box of See’s my brother Hal Cragin sent from California, I researched how earlier generations viewed Feb. 14. (N.B. I cannot write a lie — the last chocolates from the box were consumed days ago).

Here is some homegrown hilarity from a local periodical, Fitchburg’s Town Talk, February 13, 1892: “Expect a Valentine?” it begins. “Nowadays instead of the lace paper monstrosities of our youth showing an altar with a pair undergoing initiation into wedded bliss and a couple of fat little cupids holding 2 hearts on a skewer we have some very clever satirical valentines or something in the way of a caricature,” the anonymous scribe opined.

“Very little call is made for the sentimental or the skim milk amatory verses of ye ancient days.”  Oh 1892 anonymous scribe – how very forward-looking of you!

Sally Cragin is an award-winning journalist and a councillor-at-large for Fitchburg.