The Walk to Griffing Pond

A Childhood Memory, 1962, Branford, CT

My mother was the one who took us to the duck pond before baby Louie was born.  The only day I remember the babysitter coming was the day that she took us instead of our Mom,  to feed the ducks at Griffing Pond.  Our family simply called it the duck pond.  My mom hired the babysitter after my brother was born, for a few hours in the afternoons so she could attend to the laundry, cleaning, ironing and maybe even have time to prepare dinner. My mother often stated, “I had four children within five years,” as a way to sum up her situation. Before my brother Louis was born, and when the weather was good, our mom would pack us all up; Lisa in the carriage, Pam and I walking alongside.  Each week, we went to the duck pond and took trips to the small neighborhood grocery store, the Pine Orchard Market.  

One time on the way to the store, when my mom was 7 months pregnant with three children under the age of 5 in tow, a passerby honked at her from a car.  Showing sympathy for her plight, the person yellowed out of the car window, “ You poor thing!”  Fed up with this whole routine, our mom set her mind to learn to drive and get her license before her fourth and hopefully last child would be born. She was done! My father’s friend and neighbor took her out for driving lessons in his car. When she arrived at the Department of Motor Vehicles at 9 months pregnant, the man giving her the driving test told her to just drive up and down one street. Worried she would go into labor, he awarded her a driver’s license on the spot.

When Louis was born he looked different from the rest of us with his locks of curly blond hair.  Pam, the first child was born with a full head of fuzzy black hair. Second born, I came into the world bald. Lisa was born with brown hair, not too much and not too little. It was told that  Lisa was the perfect baby. She waited in her crib quietly for hours when she woke and did not make a fuss. Pam, her first born, was also a good baby, like an angel, calm and happy.  It was said that I cried constantly in the months after I was born.  Much later it was determined that my crying most likely came from not being able to digest the formula. When the formula brand was switched, I settled down, but not entirely. Regardless of whether one of us was born bald or with a full head of hair, or had a peaceful or a rough start, we were all pretty happy by the time we all ventured out to the Pine Orchard Market, or to the duck pond.  

Our mother had been exhausted from doing all of the house work, and taking care of four children, each with different needs. A perfectionist by nature, our mom made sure she bathed each of us daily, washed and ironed all of our outfits, so that we always looked clean, pressed, and well dressed. That's why she decided she needed a babysitter so that she could use the time to get her household chores and laundry needs done. 

The first time the babysitter took us to Griffing Pond, it was a beautiful warm spring day in April, with not a cloud in the sky.  We waited for the babysitter to arrive at our home on Crescent Bluff Avenue in Pine Orchard, Connecticut. Louis was 6 months old, Pam was 5 years old, I was 4, and Lisa was a toddler. It was about 3 o’clock in the afternoon when our mother put baby Louie in the stroller. My two sisters and I were waiting nearby on the front lawn with our neatly combed hair adorned with bows and barrettes, wearing freshly ironed matching dresses, knee socks and leather shoes with buckles. Baby Louie wore a jumpsuit with suspenders, and a hat to protect him from the sun. Pam, Lisa and I wandered over to the perennial garden on the side of our house and bent down to smell and look at the colorful tulips and daffodils;  the annual beauties that grew and bloomed without the constant primping and tending that went into raising four young children. 

Our mother held a bag of Sunbeam Bread containing only the bread crusts that she saved for our trips to the duck pond. When the baby sitter arrived, mom kissed each of us on the tops of our heads, handed over the bag of bread crusts and four neatly folded cardigan sweaters just in case we got cold. Carol was pleasant, tall and pretty with long brown hair. Mom gave Carol directions to Griffing Pond and sent us on our way. We waved goodbye to our mother, as the sitter pushed the carriage with baby Louie off the front lawn and onto the street.  Carol instructed us sisters to hold onto the carriage and each other's hands. Carol had taken us on walks before and was accustomed to the routine, but she had never taken us to the duck pond.

We walked up to the top of our street, which was on a dead end, near a grassy bluff that led to the shoreline of Long Island Sound.  As we made our way towards the pond, we took a right turn onto the sidewalk of Pine Orchard Road, a busy main road. As Carol rounded the corner, she instructed us to hold on tighter and touted reminders of the dangers cars posed. Trained well by Carol and our mother, we didn’t dare leave the side of safety. We walked along the main road for what seemed like a long time to us. Griffing pond was about a half of a mile away from our house. Once the pond was in view, our caboose made a dash across the main road, while the babysitter cited even more explicit safety instructions.  

Carol parked the carriage on the dirt path, on the hill above the pond. Pam, Lisa and I looked at the pond with anticipation. Ducks were in sight. Fully excited, we each reached our hands inside of the bag of bread crumbs, one at a time while only taking one bread crust as we were each instructed.  The babysitter lifted baby Louie out of the carriage and carried him down to the pond. We waddled behind her in a line, down the hill and to the pond like baby ducks.  

At the Pond’s edge we stood and called to the ducks, believing that they understood our words and would come swimming right over for a treat when they heard us.  What we didn’t know was that the ducks were fed often and conditioned to approach anyone holding some bread. A group of ducks came swimming over to us as we serenaded them with our cheers and claps. As the ducks got closer to their feeding spot, we broke our bread crusts into small bite size portions. We threw the bread into the pond, one piece at a time, and watched them make circular ripples in the calm pond water.  The final thrill was to see the ducks gobble up their lunch.

The glassy calm water began to stir, but not from the activity of ducks diving for bread.  Wind driven ripples swept across the pond as a cool breeze swept over us. The blue sky was becoming grey. The babysitter who was holding baby Louie, walked up the hill and put him back into the carriage. Carol unpacked our sweaters and called us girls back up the hill. Unhappy with the interruption, we conceded to allow Carol help us become warmer, then quickly returned to the pond for more fun. 

Soon, the sky turned an even darker shade of grey and the wind became so gusty that Lisa, Pam and I held onto each other, fearing the wind might blow us over. I was glad when the baby sitter called for us to come away from the pond. Pam and I obediently headed up the grassy knoll toward the carriage. The babysitter guided us to hold onto the carriage while she called to Lisa, who was still at the pond feeding the ducks. Carol rushed down the hill to grab the rebellious two year old.  She placed Lisa at the back of the stroller and told her she could rest her feet on the bottom bar, while Pam and I held on to either side of the carriage. 

Carol was hoping to beat the oncoming storm and get us home safely, but the wind would not let up. Rather it picked up speed. Our little caboose travelled down Pine Orchard Road, while winds whipped at our heads; blowing our perfectly groomed hair into masses of tangles. Large raindrops pounded down on us and our leather shoes let in puddle water. The only one kept dry was our baby brother, protected by the carriage awning. Carol peered over the side of the awning repeatedly to check on Louie who was starting to cry, something the docile baby boy hardly ever did. Lisa was somewhat sheltered by Carol on her ride at the back bar of the carriage. Pam and I tried to walk faster to keep up with the quickly moving carriage. We were drenched, and both scared and excited at the same time.  

Finally we turned down Crescent Bluff Avenue. When we were half way down the street, I spotted my mother in front of our house. She was heading for our car, the light blue Oldsmobile with keys in her hand. It appeared that she was coming to bring us to safety. When she saw us coming down the street, she pivoted to run up the road instead to rescue her four children from the storm. Our mom whisked up her baby boy, as the babysitter led us girls to the front lawn and up onto the front closed in porch. Soaking wet, we were now safely home. Towels were waiting for us on the porch.  Mom and Carol draped us with towels as we peered out of the dripping porch windows to look at the storm. We arrived home in the knick of time,  just before the thunder and lightning arrived.  We were all glad to be back home, back to safety and back into the loving care of our mom.