Willimantic, Now & Then
I decided to get involved in this little natural drama. I “herded” it into a corner and trapped it in my caged fingers, where it fluttered while I walked to the door. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and released it into the air. As the butterfly flew off toward to park, I noticed a little boy walking with his mom on the sidewalk right across the street from the laundromat.
By Mark Svetz
WILLIMANTIC –December, 2008
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Mark’s World:
Vignettes from the Outside Lookin’ In
On a warm, sunny afternoon recently, I took a break from working and walked up Church Street for a stroll around the Hill Section. I stopped in to see if my friend Randy McMahon was home. It turned out he was strolling himself, although our paths never crossed.
The woman got out of the truck. She had a nice face. From my perspective, she moved with grace and confidence, showing signs of familiarity with hard work. My interest was piqued.
A little later, I was checking on my machines, and I noticed one of the driers had stopped with someone's clothes in it. I observed and noted this event.
It is a cold, blustery day in Willimantic. I am thinking of some of the things I’ve seen over the last few months, and I want to tell you about a few of them.
Really, I want to extend an invitation to Mark’s World. It is the world in which the everyday actions of people in our community provide the art, entertainment, education and inspiration for me.
Whatever else I have done or will do in this life, this has been my occupation for the past 30 years.
* * * *
I go to the laundromat a couple times a week. I love the laundromat in the spring and fall when the sun is low in sky, shining through the big windows while I wait for the machines.
I was sitting in my “sauna” the other day reading a good book. The sun was hot in the windows, the machines were doing their thing and all was right with the world for the moment.
I heard a fluttering, tapping noise on the glass behind me. When I turned to see what the commotion was, I saw a beautiful black butterfly. Its wings were a rich, blue black and had brown and blue borders. It was banging against the glass, trying to find it’s way out.
As I watch the butterfly wafting on the breezes I saw the little boy staring at me. He began to pull on his mom’s shirt saying: “Mommy! Mommy! Did you see what he did?”
I felt like a wizard, releasing the beauty of nature before the amazed eyes of this young boy. I wish I could feel the wonder his eyes seemed to express at that moment.
* * * *
I ran into my neighbors the other day. Pam and Jim Wright were out walking with their grandson who was visiting from New York City. The little boy was maybe three years old. He was excited about the trains on the tracks under the footbridge.
I was amused with the story Pam and Jim told of how they went out to look at the trains, but the boy kept listening at the storm drains, thinking the trains would be underground.
At first this puzzled the grandparents until they realized that in the boy’s world – the world of New York City – it is normal to find the trains under the street.
* * * *
Walking down the hill from Randy’s – the sun in my face and my mind a 1,000 miles away – I found myself looking at a somewhat tattered banner hanging from a bracket in a garden in front of a house. The banner said, “Welcome!”
The sentiment put a smile on my face and got me thinking about traditions of hospitality. I recalled the days when I would go for a walk and stop in for unannounced visits with friends.
In other times, now long gone, we had more time for impromptu visits and I was lost in a reverie about some of the times I would go out for a walk, just like this one, and end up on some adventure.
That welcome sign got me thinking about the “old days,” about how much I miss them. Maybe they will return under the Obama administration?
Then my eyes went to another sign, immediately above the Welcome banner, taped to the inside of the window of the house.
This one said “Keep Out.”
So much for my reverie.
* * * *
I was in my laundromat again the other day. I use the one on Watson Street, across from Memorial Park. I have always loved laundromats. I guess these little stories tell you why.
On this day I watched as a young woman backed an old (1970’s vintage), beat-up pick-up truck into a parking place. I was watching because I love those old trucks. I was thinking about a similar truck I used to ride around in all the time with Tony Clark. We moved tons of furniture in that truck as it slowly fell apart. They were good memories.
A few minutes later that same drier started up again, ran for a moment, then stopped. I saw that the “done” was still lit up on the panel, and I asked the woman from the truck if it was her drier.
“No. Why?” she said.
“Well, it had stopped and now it just started again.” I said. “ I thought it must be your lucky day, getting’ a few extra minutes lake that.”
She smiled and looked at me for a moment. Then she went back to what she was doing. I went back to my end of laundromat. I can only imagine what she was thinking.
A few minutes later, she started laughing.
“It just did it again!” She called down to me.
We shared a laugh at the wonders of the modern world.
Mark Svetz and Sarah Winter own Clothworks, a shop on Church Street in Downtown Willimantic, where they make and sell clothing and bags. It is also a box seat from which Mark watches a small slice of the world.
