Precerpt from In with the East Wind: A Mary Poppins Kind of Life - Community Life in Acton

 


Precerpt (excerpt prior to publication from the forthcoming memoir, In with the East: A Mary Poppins Kind of Life by Dr. Betty Lou Leaver

Community Life in Acton

             Acton wasn’t just a town—it was a woven tapestry of neighbors, stories, and shared memory. Everybody knew everybody, and yes, everybody’s business too. Not out of nosiness exactly, though there was a touch of that. It was more about staying connected, about knowing what was going on so you could lend a hand if needed—or at least have something to talk about the next time you ran into someone in Milton Mills (the location of the closest store, gas station, and post office, Acton having none of those).

             One of the easiest ways to stay in the loop was the party line. I don’t recall when Acton finally switched to private lines, but next-door Lebanon still had party lines well into the late 1970s. I remember visiting my Aunt Goose—her real name was Grace, but no one used it—and needing to make a phone call. Urgently, though I’ve long forgotten why. The line never freed up. After more than an hour, I asked politely if I could cut in for a moment. That’s when someone on the line said, “Is that you, Betty Lou; have you come back to visit your Auntie Goose?” That’s how it was. Names, voices, and family ties traveled through the wires as easily as gossip and weather updates.

            But the telephone wasn’t the only thing that bound us together. Necessity did, too. Acton had no fire station, but we had fires now and then. So, the town bought a fire truck and parked it in Victor Horn’s yard. Victor was the fire chief for years—decades, really—and the department was made up entirely of volunteers. Salt-of-the-earth folks who’d drop everything to help.

             I remember two incidents with that fire truck. The first was one winter when I was visiting Ma and talking with my brother Wesley. Ma and Uncle John had gone into Rochester, New Hampshire, the nearest city, to find some excitement—because let’s be honest, farmhouse winters could get dull. As Wes and I chatted, I noticed the snow outside the window was pink.

             “Hey, Wesley,” I asked. “Why is the snow pink?”

             “Oh, shit, shit, shit,” he said. “I forgot to stoke the furnace. The chimney’s on fire.”

             We called Victor, and the fire department came right away. They put out the fire quickly, and then we all had a good chat—especially with Dodie Ham, one of the volunteers and a good friend of Ma’s. She was disappointed Ma wasn’t home. (Though we shared the same last name, Dodie wasn’t actually related to us.) By the time Ma returned, the excitement had passed.

             “Well,” she said, “there was nothing going on Rochester, so we came back. What did you find to amuse yourself with while we were gone?”

             “Oh,” I said, “Dodie Ham came to visit—along with the rest of the fire department.”

             The second time came after I was married. I was showing my husband around Acton, which is big in acreage though not in population. We’d crossed from Foxes Ridge to Acton Ridge, but some of the old landmarks had changed—new paint, added extensions—and I got lost. In my own hometown.

             Then I spotted Victor Horn’s farm, and sure enough, there was the fire engine. I knocked on the door. Victor answered, surprised to see me. I explained my dilemma and asked for directions, which he gave—clear and confident, like always. But before I left, he called out to his wife:

            “Hey, Barbara, come here. It’s the little Ham girl, back to visit—and she can’t find her way home!”

            That’s Acton. A place where your name sticks, your stories live on, and even the fire truck knows where you belong—and where no matter how many decades I aggregate, I will always be “the little Ham girl.” 

Book Description:

From the barefoot freedom of rural Maine to the diplomatic halls of Central Asia, from rescuing a dying child in Siberia to training astronauts in Houston and Star City, In with the East Wind traces an extraordinary life lived in service, not strategy.

Unlike those who chase opportunity, the author responded to it—boarding planes, crossing borders, and stepping into urgent roles she never sought but never declined. Over 75 years and 26 countries, she worked as a teacher, soldier, linguist, professor, diplomat, and cultural ambassador. Whether guiding Turkmen diplomats, mentoring Russian scholars, or founding academic programs in unlikely places, her journey unfolded through a steady stream of voices asking: Can you come help us?

Told through an alphabetical journey across places that shaped her—from Acton, Maine to Uzbekistan—this memoir is rich with insight, adventure, and deep humanity. At its heart lies the quiet power of answering the call to serve, wherever it may lead.

Like Mary Poppins, she drifted in with the East Wind—bringing what was needed, staying just long enough, and leaving behind transformation. Then she returned home, until the next wind called.


 From the forthcoming book:

In with the East Wind...A Mary Poppins Kind of Life
Volume 1: ABC Lands

by Dr. Betty Lou Leaver

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For more posts by and about Betty Lou Leaver, click HERE.


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