They say you can never go home again. And I worried about that when I moved my family back to Harvard, the town I’d grown up in 30 years before. Some things had changed—the Enchanted Meadow was Jacob Gates Road, and the building where I went to school for four years was referred to as “the kindergarten wing.” The upper elementary school building was just gone. But the things that really make a home town feel like home were still around: Wil and Joyce Garrick behind the counter at the General Store, Malcolm Sutherland in the pulpit at the Unitarian Church, and the weekly delivery of the smart, sometimes wacky, and always local Harvard Post. My worries lasted about 10 minutes once I got here.
Someone once told me the happiest people in life know how to make change their friend. I’ve tried to do that as I’ve watched Harvard change these past 13 years since I’ve been back. And I think I’ve done pretty well. But when CNC took over the Harvard Post, I couldn’t hold back my resistance—I even joined the staff during Mary Bowker’s last year as editor to try to keep it going. But as I’d been warned, such resistance didn’t make anyone happy. So I let it go. Cross off one more hometown icon. Then last week I got another chance—we all got another chance—to have that wonderful hometown feeling back in our lives, this time with the Harvard Press. Thank you Laura, Julie, Lisa, and Worth for the courage and dedication I know this endeavor takes. Thank you for giving us all a paper that feels like home…again.
Betsy Hill Williams
Bolton Road
