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Why a small New England town celebrates its heritage by honoring frogs
Transcript
Notice: Transcripts are machine and human generated and lightly edited for accuracy. They may contain errors.
Geoff Bennett: An obscure bit of colonial history dating back to a summer night mid-18th century led to a New England town celebrating frogs in sculpture, poetry and song to this day.
David Wright of Rhode Island PBS Weekly takes this leap of whimsy as part of our arts and culture series, Canvas.
David Wright: Whether you arrive in Windham, Connecticut from the north, south, east, or west, one of the first things to greet you is a large green face.
Susan Herrick, Herpetologist: They have got a lot of character too, don’t you think?
David Wright: They do.
Susan Herrick: Yes, they do.
David Wright: Four big bullfrogs, as solid as anvils, planted there on the Willimantic Bridge like a concrete lily pad right in the middle of town.
So, I’m sure I’m not the first person to ask this, but what’s with all the frogs?
(Laughter)
Bev York, Historian: So, welcome to Windham.
That is a very popular question. A lot of people who arrive here say, what’s the deal with the frogs?
David Wright: At the pharmacy and the library on Main Street, the hospital and the local radio station, Windham honors amphibians.
The town’s only real rival in frog mania may be Calaveras County, California, home of the Jumping Frog Jubilee, celebrating Mark Twain’s famous 1865 short story.
But Windham’s association with amphibians predates that by more than a century, an obscure bit of colonial history.
Susan Herrick: 1754 summertime, it was right in the middle of the French and Indian War. So people were a bit on edge.
I think I saw some numbers that there were approximately 100 people living within the general area of this green right here.
David Wright: So they heard a noise.
Susan Herrick: They heard a noise. And it was about 100 yards into the woods off the road.
David Wright: Susan Herrick is in an herpetologist, AKA frog biologist, who was born and raised here.
Susan Herrick: Men are getting up out of their houses and arming themselves and, yes, against what they thought was an invasion of either — either Natives or somebody else during this rough period of time.
And everybody was apparently — afeared for their lives is what some of the writing…
David Wright: Because of the noise.
Susan Herrick: Because of the noise.
David Wright: Herrick believes the terrible sound that so spooked the locals in 1754 was the result of a colonial climate disaster.
Susan Herrick: It’s reported that it was — there was a drought here at that time in 1754. Between late June and early July, apparently, it was pretty dry. And I think the pond had shrunk a little too much. And they gave up trying to hold territories and did what we call May acquisition strategy, switching.
So instead of defending territories, they did what’s called a leck (ph), which is where all the males just sort of gathered together and display themselves, sort of like a singles bar, if you will.
David Wright: So instead of singing a froggy love song, they were kind of having a…
(Crosstalk)
Susan Herrick: They’re…
(Crosstalk)
David Wright: … primal scream.
Susan Herrick: Having a mosh pit, yes, exactly.
David Wright: In her research at the University of Connecticut, she spent more than 3,000 hours recording bullfrogs in the wild.
Susan Herrick: This is what a frog pond would normally sound like. So, that’s whole songs calling.
Now, here they start switching notes. So, they will sing to each other.
David Wright: She’s built a recreation of what the 1754 frog pond might have sounded like with all of the bullfrogs bleating at once.
Susan Herrick: Now, this is what I think it could potentially have sounded like on the battlefield…
(Laughter)
Susan Herrick: … so to speak, right?
David Wright: It sounds like a big swarm of angry bees.
Nevertheless, when word got around that this little town had panicked, taking up arms against a bunch of bullfrogs…
The story had legs.
Bev York: The story had legs. The story had legs.
David Wright: The great Windham frog fight became an American Batrachomyomachia, the stuff of epic comic poems, at least three of them. Before the U.S. had a national currency, banknotes issued by the Windham Bank featured a frog standing on top of another frog. In 1905, the local opera house even mounted an operetta, a musical, “The Frogs of Windham,” which has enjoyed several local revivals.
And, to this day, the local brewery has an annual Hop Fest.
So, you have embraced the frog, which was originally sort of a joke at Windham’s expense.
Bev York: A joke at Windham’s expense, but we’re pretty good at laughing at ourselves, yes.
David Wright: The bridge itself is an example of that good humor. Built 20 years ago by the state of Connecticut, the locals insisted it pay tribute to their heritage.
Susan Herrick: Apparently, it was pretty embarrassing for the colonists back then.
But, nowadays, we look back and we laugh, and we think, oh, that must have been the equivalent of nowadays online ribbing. You know, these ribbing…
(Crosstalk)
David Wright: Yes.
(Crosstalk)
Susan Herrick: Ribbiting?
David Wright: So, forever, these frogs will troll the town of Windham.
Susan Herrick: Troll the town of Windham forever.
David Wright: For the “PBS NewsHour,” I’m David Wright in Windham, Connecticut.