When I was a kid and my family and I first moved to Glastonbury, we lived on Water Street, which is just a hop, skip, and a jump to the Glastonbury-Rocky Hill ferry… which is the oldest continually operating ferry in the country, and is about to be shut down. (I blame the unions.) When you’re three years old, there’s pretty much nothing cooler than living near a ferry, except maybe living near a circus or in the Shire. When I was an adult, and worked at Glastonbury’s local paper, I once spent a winter day standing down by the ferry landing with the animal control office and some dude, watching as a harp seal sunned itself on an ice floe–and an otter peaked his head up at the edge of the ice wondering WTF was going on.
Needless to say, I am baffled as to why the good people of Nayaug Village haven’t banded together to save this little gem. I’ve sat through many a torturous TPZ meeting where those same people came out in droves to keep a house from being built in the way of their views. I’ve watched as they tried to do an end run around the zoning laws to get the place declared part of a historic district so the monstrous house in question couldn’t be built. Where are they when it comes time to save an actual historic landmark?
I mean, the guy who built the monstrous house probably has enough money stuffed in his mattress to keep the thing running for another year.
Shame on you, Nayaugers, for letting my childhood memories sink to the bottom of the Connecticut River.