Page 10 - BusinessWest February 19, 2024

those towns and the loss of community.”
For this issue, BusinessWest talked with Palladino about her
home and her book, but mostly about the Quabbin towns and why, 86 years after Swift River Valley residents gathered for a farewell ball to mark the demise of their communities — “A Last Good Time for All” was how it was billed — it’s important that their stories never be forgotten.
Flood of Memories
Palladino has never met Marion Andrews Smith — she was born decades after Smith died.
But she feels a very powerful connection to the woman. Living in the home she built and spent her final years in is a big part of it, obvi- ously, but there’s much more.
Indeed, as she came to know more about Smith through her research and then through meetings with Marian Tryon Waydaka, whose parents were Smith’s groundskeeper and chauffeur — and named their daughter after their employer — she came to fully under- stand both Smith’s taste in home furnishings and her incredibly strong will in the face of not only losing her home to a public-works project, but so much more.
She learned, for example, that Smith had family members who died in 1928, 1929, and 1932 and were buried in the valley, know- ing full well they would have to be eventually moved elsewhere as the reservoir became reality.
“It could have been denial or defiance; it may also have been that she hadn’t decided where else she would like to move,” Palladino said. “But I thought that was a very interesting decision.”
She also learned that Smith was one of the very last residents to
“There are many great books about the Quabbin, but this one is a little more personal in nature.”
leave in the summer of 1938 and never did sell her property to the state; her land and home were taken by eminent domain, although she did eventually settle with the state.
Palladino grew up in Sturbridge, just east of the Quabbin, and her father and brother loved to fish the reservoir. So, like most who grew up in the 413, she knew the basics about how that resource was cre- ated and how four towns disappeared in the process.
It wasn’t until she and her husband bought the house on Highland Street after she took the job at Smith College — and they learned more about the home and the woman who built it — that her subtle interest in the Quabbin towns and the people who lived there became a fascination, and the subject of a book.
“The book started as research — I’ve always loved history and
old homes — but then, because I was able to find out so much about Marion and her story was even more fascinating because it was inte- grated with the Quabbin towns, it became a much bigger project than I ever thought it would be.
“It started as a personal project, and the initial research was mostly on our house,” she went on. “As I learned more about Marion ... it seemed like every bit of research led to more. Because she was from such an important family, there was lots to find about her; she was very involved, as were her family members, in various town organizations.”
Palladino took full advantage of the many resources available to those who wish to know more about the Quabbin towns and those who lived there, including a large collection at the UMass Amherst Library; the Swift River Valley Historical Society in New Salem; the Visitors Center at Quabbin Park in Belchertown; various scrapbooks; several books on the subject, including Donald Howe’s Quabbin, the Lost Valley; and meeting minutes from various organizations, includ- ing the Quabbin Club, a women’s club in the valley that existed from the late 1800s until the towns were disincorporated.
The Plot Thickens
Palladino’s book focuses on three of the last residents to leave the valley, and through those stories she conveys those final days through their eyes.
“There are many great books about the Quabbin, but this one is
a little more personal in nature,” she said. “I was most intrigued by what it like for Marion, and any of the people who lived there, to have to leave; it’s a more personal side of the story.
“It was a long process,” she went on. “The Ware and Swift River Acts were passed in 1926 and 1927, and even before that, for about 30 years, the idea of an enormous reservoir was out there — it was discussed. From 1895 on, people knew this might come to pass and that a reservoir might be built here. When it finally became real, it was devastating for the people who lived there, but it also didn’t feel quite real because there was such a long period of time during which the towns were destroyed, and the dam and the dike were built — it was about 10 years.”
She said some left quickly after their homes were purchased by the state, while others who sold leased them back and stayed in the valley while deciding where to go next. And then, there were some who stayed until the very end.
“I think that must have been a difficult choice to make,” Palladino told BusinessWest. “By 1938, it was a scene of destruction; by then, many homes had been demolished and burned, all of the trees in the valley had been cut down, all of the brush below the water line had been cut and burned, and the buildings that were still standing in 1938 were quite dilapidated because they weren’t being cared for.
“Their town would have been unrecognizable,” she went on, add- ing that, despite all this, some did stay to the bitter end.
Palladino has tried to convey the hardships and emotions experi-
10 FEBRUARY 19, 2024
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