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Morse Farm Maple Sugarworks
News from Vermont
News from Vermont
News from Vermont #85 - What's in a Name?
Burr Morse
Morse Farm Maple Sugarworks
Montpelier, VT.
www.morsefarm.com
July 8, 2005
Hello again maple people,
I recently went to the Vermont History Expo at the Tunbridge World's Fairgrounds. It was a grand occasion for all Vermont history buffs and nostalgia notables. The sweltering day was good for nostalgia--for some reason summer heat draws memories like beads of sweat; for me, memories of thousands of hay bales, callused hands, and arms all scratched up from the jagged ends of cut hay. I think of haying like I describe my army experience: not necessarily pleasant, but valuable as all get-out. Yup, those experiences built my character and I wouldn't trade them in for a million dollars.
Although I grew up in the era of power machinery and hay bales I was fortunate to have a peek at the old times through my grandfather. Grandpa Morse taught me all the best things I know--things that have carried me through 57 years of good solid farm life. Besides his teaching and the luxury of working beside him, Grandpa Morse also told me stories. One, in particular, was about his namesake, Mr. Philip Sidney Bennett:
The day my grandfather was born, August 6, 1894, Sidney Bennett knocked on the door at the Morse homestead and offered Harry A. and Ella Giddings Morse $300.00 if they would name their new baby after him. It seems Mr. Bennett had only one daughter and really wanted his name carried on. Harry and Ella accepted the money, not a small sum for those days, and Christened their newborn, Philip Sidney Bennett Morse. Sidney Bennett was a huge man, both in physical size and standing in the community. Grandpa Morse, though a small man, always seemed proud of his name and dedicated his life toward honoring the great man he was named after. One time Grandpa Morse and I were out raking up hay scatterings and he told a story about Sidney Bennett that has stayed with me all these years.
Grandpa said Mr. Bennett was a man of few words. One day he and a testy hired man were pitching hay from "tumbles" up to a third man who mowed it away on a horse-drawn wagon. The hired man was having an especially bad day and had earlier kicked one of the horses, thinking he had done it on the sly. My grandfather said they worked in perfect rhythm until the load was nearly complete:
"The hired man jabbed for the last tumble of hay when his fork was suddenly pinned to the ground by another fork. He looked up and saw Sid Bennett at the end of the other fork. Bennett peered down at the smaller man with fire in his eyes: 'You'll never abuse another animal on this farm--you're done!'" Grandpa went on to say the hired man left to get his final paycheck "shaking in his boots." Sidney Bennett headed for the barn with a full load of hay.
The end of my story brings me to Sidney Bennett's grave up at an old cemetery in East Calais, Vermont. Sidney is appropriately buried under the biggest stone in the cemetery. What's not appropriate is the diminished status of his name on the stone. Carved down low on one face is one word, "Bennett." On another face, up higher, slightly closer to God, are the words "The Old Nuisance." Besides that, the huge spear of Woodbury granite bears nothing but pale green lichens and the ravages of time. My brother told me the origin the words, "The Old Nuisance." It seems Sidney Bennett had heard that his caregivers were referring to him as "just an old nuisance," shortly before he died in 1898. For Sidney Bennett, having the last word was as important as starting the winter with a barn full of hay. For purposes of retribution, he left instructions that those words be put on his gravestone.
Why would a man who was so concerned about the continuation of his name, settle for such obscurity in memoriam? My best guess is that life, not the hereafter, was what was important to Phillip Sidney Bennett. He was huge in life, haymaker, milker of cows--man of honor. He made a cash deal with a male child on August 6, 1894. Once assured there would be someone to carry his name through another lifetime, he soon passed into oblivion. The Old Nuisance.
Names are indeed important, right down to the grades of maple syrup. In Vermont we have a special name for our top grade of maple syrup--Fancy Grade. Some old Vermonter named it that because, well, that super light colored, delicious syrup just deserves a name like "Fancy." ....You'll agree--it's the Vermont way to "take the heat off" a summer afternoon. Top grade maple syrup by any other name would be, well, just an old nuisance.
Have a nuisance-free day
Burr
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Again, thanks for being interested in Morse Farm Maple Sugar.
-Burr
