MULTIMEDIA BLOG

ONCE UPON A TIME

The Life and Times of Shirley C. Sweeney

1957-1970

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A few years ago my mother bestowed upon me a lifetime of photographs organized by decade, along with several 8mm films from the early 1960s to the mid-1970s. She asked that I take care of her memories. I had been avoiding looking through this material, but recently, as my mother’s cognitive health has continued to decline, I decided it was time to immerse myself in this project as a way to deal with grief and loss. I begin the process of digitizing the huge volume of negatives, slides, and prints. I converted the 8mm movie film years ago for my father.

 

Inventory:
7 - Boxes of printed photos (removed from the decaying photo albums) organized by decade (1930s-2000s).
4- Boxes of Kodachrome and Ektachrome slides organized chronologically (1950s-1970s)
1- Archival Storage Binder (1950s-1970s)
  Kodak 127 Color Negatives
  Kodak 127 B&W Negatives
  Kodak 126 Color Negatives
  Kodak 126 B&W Negatives
1- Archival Storage Binder (1980s-2000s)
  Kodak 35mm Color Negatives organized chronologically
6- 7” 8mm reels totaling 02:30:52 (1950s-1970s)

Two periods of time stand out. The albums from the 1970s capture our extensive travels around the country in our Ford Country Squire Station Wagon and Layton Travel Trailor. This was a very special time for us, featuring trips to Florida, Chincoteague, Cape May New Jersey, Nova Scotia, California, and summers in Wellfleet on Cape Cod.

The years between 1957 and 1970 are of particular interest to me. These are my parents’ early years, beginning right after they moved into their newly built home on 43 Bluegrass Lane. The images and movies from this time document the beginnings of four young families living in the Trotting Club Acres neighborhood in Ludlow, MA; Decaro, Labresh, Mastalerz, and Sweeney. These families formed a close social group, frequently coming together for picnics, parties, and square dancing. The Chamberlain, Martins, and Naugler families would occasionally attend. 



 

The photos from the 1960s bring back my earliest childhood memories. I clearly remember Keith, Marilyn, Mark, and Cathy Labresh, who moved away from the neighborhood in 1967. I recall waving goodbye to them through our living room picture window as they drove away one rainy day in April, heading for a new life in Weymouth, MA. I remember asking my mother, “where are Mark and Cathy going.” She went to her bedroom and cried. A search of newspapers.com revealed that the Sweeneys and Labreshes were particularly close and socially active during this time with St. Matthews Parish, Ludlow Veterans Services, and the Ludlow Square Dance Club.



 

Over the decades, the Decaros became my parents’ closest friends. My mother grew up near the Decaro family on Eastern Avenue in Springfield, before moving across from Dominic on Bluegrass Lane in 1957. My father did the finish carpentry on their 2nd-floor bedrooms not long after moving in. Every Saturday night since the mid-1960s until my father’s death in 2004, they would play cards until midnight. I would stay up late to listen to their stories and try to detect what method of cheating Dominic would employ on any particular evening. They would get together once, sometimes twice a year to make Italian sausage, the best I have ever had due to Dom’s prodigious use of fennel.



 

Twelve children and two grandchildren of the original deeded owners, currently own homes in Trotting Club Acres. Like myself, many returned to assist their aging parents. Returning to the neighborhood after 18 years away with my wife and son was joyous. It was comforting and relaxing to be back amongst lifelong friends and I was excited to introduce them to Carrie, Julius, and soon to arrive a year later in 2001, my daughter Abigail Rose. My Father and Dominic enthusiastically helped fix up our house and property. To Dom’s delight, I approved of him digging up the much-despised Bridal Wreath bushes that bounded our shared property line. Upon completion of a days work, we would jump over the chainlink fence to the Decaros’ to enjoy a home-cooked meal made by Rita, with Dominic making it clear to us that he personally oversaw the “invention” of the tomato sauce.

 

Slowly over time, the 33 original deeded owners who lived in the neighborhood all of their adult lives began to pass away. In the last several years I’ve had a front-row seat to witness the fading away of my parent’s generation, of lifelong friends. At the time of this writing, Rita Decaro is the last remaining original deeded owner who bought into the neighborhood when the homes were brand new. My mother passed away on Monday, September 30, 2024, while in hospice memory care very far from her home, and friends.

Looking through these image has made me acutely aware of what we’ve lost, and what we’ve left behind. In the early mornings when I take my walk through Trotting Club Acres, I feel a profound sense of loss and loneliness. Rather than this project being a way for me to deal with grief and loss, it has instead put a finer point on it. Below is something an acquaintance wrote in 2014 about the beach camps on North Beach Island in Chatham. He expresses the loss of community much better than I can.

“It's hard to put into words what it means to see more camps being lost. It's like living in a big neighborhood of over 40 houses/families where everyone knows each other and helps each other out. You raise your kids together. You spend holidays together. You share and enjoy so many of life's precious moments together. And every once in a while - too frequently lately - tragedy occurs and your neighbor's home - and your neighbors - are suddenly gone. Sometimes it's one at a time. Sometimes a couple. And then there are those times when something really big happens (blizzard of 78, 91 perfect storm, 07 breach) and you lose a bunch all at once. Your tight knit community falls apart. There are no more pot luck suppers, birthday parties, lighthouse tag or pick up games of softball. The wedding and graduation invitations dwindle. And it gets to the point that although you still have your lovely little home in such a special place, it no longer means what it once did. Sure, the solitude is peaceful, the scenery breathtaking. But the soul is gone. Ever since the 07 breach it's like we've been attending a 7 year wake. So sad.” -Robert N. Long, Sr.

This webpage is a record, a testament, to my Mother and her generation. I share these memories they have left behind, to honor their lives, friendship, and a special time in history.



Truly, though our element is time,


We are not suited to the long perspectives


Open at each instant of our lives.


They link us to our losses: worse,


They show us what we have as it once was,


Blindingly undiminished, just as though


By acting differently, we could have kept it so.


-Phillip Larkin, Reference Back