Biweekly Newsletter - Ames Long Pond

Today’s story about Long Pond was shared by Don Almeida. The subject certainly has resonated with many Easton residents. In his words:
 
“The land on the “Easton-side” of Long Pond was owned by the man who operated “Lakeshore Lunch”.  He lived on North Main Street, directly across from the bumpy entrance road to the pond.  His name was James (“Jim”) MacInaw (sp).  Jim and his brother lived alone together in that house.  He opened the lunch stand on weekends and was especially busy on Sundays when the beach was mobbed.  Selling hot dogs and hamburgers only, the seductive aroma of fried onions wafted through the air attracting customers like a magnet.  Nearby, the usual bell-ringing ice cream man was parked and often surrounded with excited kids yelling out their popsicle flavors.  He would then travel to the Stoughton side of the pond, returning later to the Easton side.

“If the parking lot was nearly empty, the late Edward “Red” Horan (Horan Oil, Stoughton), a former WW II Army Air Force pilot, would fly his bright yellow Piper Cub low over the water, pull up over the trees, and then land on the grassy parking area.  He was married to a Craig from North Easton.
“During the week, Elizabeth Donahue, who later became known as “Betty” Barrows after marriage, offered swimming lessons to the town’s children, sponsored by the Red Cross.  She was then a student at Bridgewater Normal School (Bridgewater State College).  She later taught Math and Physical Education at the high school.  I remember we called her “Betty”, and she was our friend at the pond always wearing a bathing suit, and it was briefly difficult to formally address as “Miss Donahue” in a classroom.

“The MacInaw brothers were WWI veterans.  Jim’s brother came home with a mental health condition that was diagnosed as “shell-shock”, where he appeared, I recall, as far worse than the PTSD we’re familiar with today.  He was a worn-out tired old man in his fifties.  His face was lined with wrinkles and his full hair was ashen white.  Every day, during hot summers and cold winters, he wore his slightly tattered, heavy wool, US Army olive drab topcoat which extended down to his ankles.  During late afternoons at the same time, he would get off the Brockton bus across from the Rockery to return home from his job at a shoe factory.  He would walk the one-mile home, his shoulders rocking left to right under the strain of a noticeable limp and that heavy coat, heading toward Long Pond while sadly talking to himself.”
 

                               
It’s great when Easton residents or former residents are inspired to share their memories. Thank you, Don, for reaching out. It would be unfortunate if these memories were lost.

Anne Wooster Drury
 
A final note from Don Almeida-
“I’m reminded of an obscure blues song about an old war veteran recorded during this period in the early 1950’s.  It was not a popular song.  It was simply there and then it wasn’t.  It was titled Old Folks.*   The opening and closing lyrics are:         
 
 
Everybody knows him as Old Folks
Like the seasons he come and he go
Just as free as a bird Just as good as his word
That's why we all love him so
But someday there's gonna be No more Old Folks
What a lonesome old town this will be
Village voices at play Will be still for a day
The day they take Old Folks away   
 
* Written by Dedette Lee Hill and Willard Robison