Day of First Nights

Some Video from a family-friendly afternoon at Holyoke's First Night, Jr. festivities at Heritage Park:

A feature of the park is the classic, transplanted old Mountain Park Merry Go Round; now safely housed in it's own big round building and still delighting big and small kids alike.



Nearby, we let the little one expend some energy at the Childrens Museum before heading back outside to the park grounds for the drop of the New Years Ball; a jubilant crowd and outgoing and incoming mayors in attendance.



When all of this afternoon fare was done there was still time for a run to Northampton, where their own First Night celebrations have begun to garner some serious popularity among the valley folk. It was shoulder to shoulder on every sidewalk, shop and venue. The view from Thornes entrance:



We made it up in time for a look at the early evening fireworks; positioning ourselves among a burgeoning throng of spectators in front of the Faces block. But the initial fireworks turned out to be partially obstructed by the Thornes building across the street. A mass exodus to the rear of that block and closer to the launch area ensued.

We decided a half display was good enough for us, and maintained our position on the sidewalk with a few other contented folk. Luckily enough, the rockets gained a little altitude as the show went on:

Spring In Your Step

Some pics from our fourth viewing of the humongous Holyoke St. Paddy's Day Road Race.

Entertaining as ever, with some 5600 runners participating this year.

...including the usual sprinkling of characters.

The serious front runners completed the grueling 10k distance in under 30 minutes; which works out to something under 5 minutes per mile.

But of course the prevailing masses of humanity were out for more modest personal victories and did the run at a more humanly pace.

That being said; modesty can take many forms.

In a race of these proportions, there's more than just the epic story of united masses fleeting by. There are also the smaller, raucous stories of pep and personality...

...and subtler stories of dedication and perseverance.

Victory In The Making

What happened to downtown Holyoke.

Long ago, the streets used to bustle. The people used to move. The businesses used to prosper. It was a booming industrial city in a booming industrial country, during a booming industrial era.

For over a hundred years Holyoke created and manufactured on a global basis. Now... not so much. For decades now it has been a city on the ropes, it's former economic and industrial base almost vanished, poverty rates at state highs, and for too long relying on outside aid to stay afloat.

But in the city's present atmosphere of uncertainty and despair are glimmers of hope. Grasping at the city's bare old bones are small but lively groups of activists, advocates and long time residents. Urgent minds and hands trying furiously to cultivate rebirth and prosperity for the future of the city they love.

Successes by these advocates are mounting. Open Square, one of the earliest manufacturing plants, was once wrecked and empty. It's now brought back to life and housing coffee shops, art space and retail business.

Here and there in fits and starts, once crumbling red brick warehouses and defunct factories are being cleaned up and retreaded.

Pathways, parks and spruced up canal-sides. Rumors of giant high tech industries finding a home here in a stripped down but fully functional infrastructure that sustained a bygone manufacturing era.

Small groups and activists cannot attack the whole problem of Holyoke, it's too big. They have to pick apart the problems and repair, cause by cause; grabbing hold of whatever is within reach. Rejuvenating, restoring, setting it loose and then moving on to the next project.

One of those projects is the Victory Theater.

For several years now there has been an effort by the Holyoke advocates to restore this lost classic. Effort by people like this guy, who got himself involved.

The theater doors were open for public viewing and picture taking last weekend. After seeing many stories and photos on the net and news I was eager to get a look for myself.

As blown out and deteriorating the closed theater was when it was originally considered for restoration, it actually looked much better before the restoration work started. What now looks like utter destruction are just the beginning phases of the long slog ahead.

Much of the surviving finer details like the giant silk tapestries that lined the walls have already been removed for restoration or replication.

Loose paint has begun to be scraped away. Unsalvageable beams, trusses and girders are being ripped down to be replaced. Walls and floorboards are gutted. There's a lot of work to do.

A. lot. of. work.

But standing down in front of the stage and orchestra pit, ( and just the fact that there is an orchestra pit is awesome),

...or high above in the third level seating, you can get a sense of the grandness and attention to detail that was integral to structure and designs back in the day.

It's a lost art that should be restored. This is what needs to be brought back to life.

Poking around the dark lobbies, back halls and side rooms of the theater, I didn't see any bugs or mice, but the place was crawling with photogs.

Amateurs, hobbyists and pros were everywhere, sporting everything from point and shoots to top of the line 'L' series lenses perched on heavy Manfrotto tripods. It seems almost dangerous to bring such expensive equipment to such a dusty equipment unfriendly place. Measurable depths of particulate and debris was coating or being kicked up from every square inch of the place.

A photo equipment unfriendly environment indeed.

So you might appreciate my abject horror when my own modest but most expensive lens suddenly pops out of my pocket, and with a dull thump lands in a half inch of the finest demolition dust. Then it rolls a bit before going plunk, plunk, roll, plunk down some rotting god forsaken steps and into a pitch-black hole down under the stage. Now imagine yours truly steeling his nerve and crunching down, gingerly stepping into the black pit in pursuit. Repeatedly pressing the shutter button and using his camera flash to light the way in bursts of gruesome.

Amazing. Almost every nook and cranny of the place needs to be done over. It's almost bewildering how much work will be needed to get a show going on that stage again. Success will be a monumental achievement.

But there are people working on it. They've drawn up plans, they're getting people and resources together...

...they're keeping the hope alive.

C.R.U.S.H. On Holyoke

We checked in at Veterans Park in Holyoke for a look at the Block Party being thrown by the members of C.R.U.S.H.



We were heading up for a quick bike ride before Kelly had to work, but stopped in just long enough for bloggerette to 'pluck a duck' from the Providence Ministries for the Needy...



...and for me to find out I'm basically a grenade with the pin pulled.





This was definitely a Holyoke-centric event, geared towards bringing the community together for the benefit of revitalizing a city they're proud to call home.



We did a quick round of the park, checking out the music, games, arts and crafts...









But the underlying theme to this block party was that it was a gathering for public and political issues as well.



The block party looked like a success for the Citizens for the Revitalization and Urban Success of Holyoke. A group of people who have a serious C.R.U.S.H. on Holyoke...

Small Wonders

With the return of the return of the spring on Friday, and in keeping with the beginning of Bike Week around these parts, we made a run down to Ashley Reservoir in Holyoke for a quick bike ride before the sunset.

We hadn't biked here in over a year, and pleased to see it was just as beautiful as we had left it.



Especially during the golden hour right before twilight.





I had forgotten this, but early May is high gossling time around this reservoir.



We encountered probably over two dozen large geese families on our bike run, spread out along the trails and coasting about in the water.



While some of them had pretty sizable broods, keeping their parents' on their webbed toes...



...others not so much. For whatever reason nature, luck, fate, what have you; delt some of the couples only one or two young'un to care for.



Such is life and who knows, maybe less hungry beaks just makes matters easier for everyone.



All I know is... we usually have our hands full back at the ranch.

The cooling, late afternoon temps were refreshingly perfect, and we made such good time that we decided to go around the 3.5 mile loop twice.

The sun was getting really low, the light was starting to fade and we were cruising along the shady back stretch of the track at about 10 miles an hour when Hawk-Eye-Freakin'-Sacajawea-Kelly done it again: spotting this tiny critter sitting right in the middle of the darkening path, and came to an abrupt stop.



She immediately identified it as a newt of some sort.



Not a salamander, as I challenged her on it, but a newt. Whatever it was, I don't know how she does it. This guy was smaller than a piece of gum.



But reading up on it later, I found that it was indeed a Red Spotted Newt. Or more precisely an Eft. Probably pretty young considering it's small stature, even as newts go. We checked it out for a few minutes and with some straggling joggers and another group of bikers still tromping by on the path, we decided we'd better help fate and nature along. Kelly gingerly picked it up...



...gave the enchanted bloggerette a quick eyeful...



...before setting it down again in the grass, path-side.



Good luck little guy.

...and watch out for predators, it's a hungry world out there.



We finished out the loop discussing differences between salamanders and newts and the occasional ability of the tiny creatures to make news by up-ending entire subdivisions and box store developments. Eventually we coasted down the final stretch to the car settled into a cooled breezy satisfied silence. Listening to the sound of bicycle tires running over gravel, and the occasional honk of geese...

The sun had by now just about set.



Time to get our own gossling home.