After a stop at the Brookfield Market recently, I found myself thinking about how it has changed since I was a child. One of the things I most remember is that the entrance was located on the very front of the building near the bridge over the Still River, not on the side as it is now. It was one of the few places in town where you could buy groceries.
Times were simpler years ago. There were many farms here–today, houses sit in meadows where cows once grazed and crops grew. Some of the farms had large tracts of land, many of which were swallowed up by the building boom of the 1960s and ’70s. I grew up on the Gurski Farm, which is now town-owned open space. My mother and I would often go to the Mudry farm up the road from us on Obtuse Hill Road (Route 133) to pick blackberries. I remember one of those experiences very well, because it was there that I was frightened by a blacksnake that was bent on keeping us company in the berry patch. The Mudry farm is gone, and so too are the blackberries as well as the other farms that existed at that time.
Our pleasures seemed simpler back then despite living in the shadow of the cold war. I remember drills in school where we would get under our desks or go to the basement. How those actions would have helped us survive a nuclear attack still makes me wonder. Talk about exercises in futility.
I don’t remember many organized activities when I was a child. We pretty much had to make our own fun. There were some events, however, that were entertaining. How many remember Melody Fair that offered musicals under a tent on a large field later occupied by Caldor, and now Kohl’s? My mom took me a couple of times—my first experience with musical theater.
Remember soda fountains? A pharmacy at the Four Corners had a soda fountain that had as one of its offerings the best fresh orange ice cream soda that I have ever tasted. I have never found another like it and have failed miserably trying to duplicate it at home with orange soda (for the fizz) and ice cream. It was a special combination of fresh orange juice, seltzer water, and rich, rich vanilla ice cream. The pharmacy, in addition to prescriptions and the soda fountain, also offered gift items. During my high school years and after, my best friend and I spent quite a lot of money there. You could always find the perfect gift for someone there as well as cards, wrapping paper, and bows. Unlike the Walgreen’s and other drugstores today, there was no food for sale except at the soda fountain.
Federal Road has changed a great deal since I was a child. There were no traffic lights. There was no I-84 or Super 7 bringing lots of traffic to town. There were a few small stores but no big box stores. There were tourist cabins behind two houses where Brookfield Commons is now. The bakery that recently opened was once Lavelle’s Wagon Wheel, a great place to eat that had the best prime rib you could find. My family often went there for dinner or for a snack in the evening following shopping in Danbury.
There were few places to shop in Brookfield, thus the need to go to Danbury for clothing and other needs.
One thing was certain: There were not many places for teenagers to work in Brookfield. I never had a job until I was a senior in high school, and that was at an insurance company in Danbury. I started working there after school, then worked full time after graduation. I remember being excited because I had to have my first car. I would drive to school, then to work, and then home. I considered that the best part of my senior year. It gave me my first real taste of freedom.
The center of Brookfield has changed from what I remember. The Brookfield Museum and Historical Society was the town hall when I was a small child; then it became the Joyce Memorial Library. Since the Consolidated School (now Center School) was just down the street from it, my classmates and I would walk up School Street to borrow books or do research assignments. The house on the corner next to St. Joseph’s Church later became a convent for nuns who taught at St. Joseph’s School
The Village Store was one place that teenagers could work. I had two friends who worked there over our teen years. They would wait on customers and, if needed, deliver groceries to local residents.
The house on the left side of St. Paul’s Church was the Congregational Church rectory; St. Paul’s rectory was a Victorian house located on Longmeadow Hill Road almost opposite St. Joseph’s rectory. The Congregational Church and St. Paul’s were the only churches in the center when I was a child. St. Joseph’s was located then on Pocono Road.
Highway names sometimes changed. Candlewood Lake Road was once White Turkey Road, named for the inn that sat on the corner of Federal Road. Passenger trains then stopped at the station near the Brookfield Market, now part of the Craft Center complex. My elementary class once took the train to Danbury to see the sights in the “city,” such as the big firehouse and City Hall, both no longer located where they were then. Our firehouse at the time was just south of the center on Route 25. The building, which had other uses before it was a firehouse, has been an apartment building for many years. I once went there to interview a fireman for a school project. I often remember that as I pass it on the way to errands or appointments.
There are so many more memories from my youth here, but one thing I have learned as a a resident is to adapt to the changes I have seen happening all around me. I could not expect Brookfield not to change through the years. It is no longer the rural farm town I remember. Years from now there no doubt will be additional changes, as plans become reality for the northern Four Corners.
Despite the changes, even negative ones, such as increased traffic, Brookfield is as great a place to live today as it was when it had one-quarter of its current population. It just takes a little more time to get around than it once did, especially now with municipal projects moving forward on Federal Road. You just have to know what roads to take to avoid delays in getting where you want to go.
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