Through this column, we meet folks of all ages doing what they love. Readers may notice that this approach can have a fountain-of-youth effect on people well into their 70s, 80s, 90s and beyond. That’s certainly true of Wendell resident Nina Keller, who recently celebrated her 80th birthday — Keller appears every bit as lithe and vibrant as when I first encountered her nearly 40 years ago.
A staunch advocate of local, organic foods, Keller cultivates a large garden and raises chickens to help nourish three generations of family members. The family’s Millers Falls farm is located close to the Wendell line, and Keller considers herself a Wendell resident.
“We produce eight to 10 gallons of maple syrup each year for our own use and to share with friends, and we keep the garden going,” said Keller. “We no longer have large animals, but I’ll always have chickens. I can’t imagine living in the country and not having chickens; they’re endlessly entertaining.”
Son Caleb, 44, has taken over pruning the farm’s trees, and daughter Clara, 43, and her husband, Abdou Sarr, are raising their two sons on the farm.
Nina Keller will be the featured speaker at the Wendell Free Library on Tuesday evening, March 17. In a region littered with hippie memoirs and commune recollections, Keller’s new book, “Where Have All the Hippies Gone,” stands out due to her perspectives in a genre that — at least in the early days — amplified men’s voices more than women’s. I received her book close to my deadline, so this isn’t a full review, but I ascertained that Keller’s writing style is unconventional, to say the least. Her sentences can be hard to follow; nonetheless, it’s well worth taking the time to get acquainted with her rare spirit.
I met Keller through a cherished mutual friend, the inimitable Suzy Polucci, who until her 2018 death was a larger-than-life force for community arts, inspiring philosophies, and bold action. Polucci lived adjacent to the Kellers for years and greatly admired the way Nina and her husband, Dan, operated their farm. Polucci often said, “They’re two of the hardest workers I’ve ever met.”
Keller chronicles her evolution from Philadelphia suburbs to explorations of communal farms in Vermont and Massachusetts. She introduces a cast of characters who marched to their own drummers in the Woodstock era and beyond. Motivated by resistance to U.S. interventions in Vietnam, as well as the civil rights movement, Keller and her cohorts rejected many social norms while gravitating to new ways of thinking and living. As with many memoirs of that era, Keller’s book includes vignettes about hitchhiking, drug use, and complicated personal interactions. What distinguishes her recollections is the thoughtfulness with which she addresses challenges faced by women, who — even in so-called liberated realms — were still expected to be largely responsible for childrearing, domestic tasks and other realms traditionally relegated to females.
In the late 1960s, Keller defected from suburban life, in part, because she found that women had precious few options. “We could be nurses, teachers, secretaries or mothers. That was about it,” she said. She and other women were understandably disappointed to discover similarly type-cast roles existed in commune settings. Yet, Keller loved becoming a mother in that milieu, and raising her eldest son and subsequent children alongside other young families.
Many years later at a reunion, Keller and some women friends noted that several men had written odes to their commune’s history, and that women’s versions should also be told. “I decided to go for it,” said Keller, who had already written (though not published) a fictionalized account. “I realized that was bogus, so I started over and retold it as nonfiction.” She took care not to throw anyone under the bus. “There’s been plenty of that,” she said. “I just wanted to remember some of the phenomenal people involved and the amazing things we did while pursuing a different way of living.”
Keller characterizes her younger self as “naive, inexperienced, curious, and hungry.” She emphasized that her new book “doesn’t even touch the Wendell story. It’s all about the Montague era.” (The spot where Keller and her peers farmed and experimented is now the site of the Montague Retreat Center on Ripley Road, a popular spot for weddings, conferences, and other events.) “Our values were deeply tied to nature,” she said. “We rebelled against corporate and historical inheritance, and challenged authority while seeking love and peace.”
Keller hopes to “take readers through the formation, fiascos and phenomena of personal and collective ripening in the late 60s and 70s. I explore components that support the growth of a wandering, inexperienced young woman trying to find her place.” She also touches on how her explorations now inform her identity as an older woman. “Some of us are still kicking. We survived memorable conundrums and came up with remedies, even though some of the formulas were damaged.” Keller presents profiles of commune members’ courage and tenacity. “They were fabulous people,” she said, although she admitted, “We didn’t know how to cohabitate well. But so many of them were educated, skilled, and talented, which led to the Liberation News Service and other great projects. Commune members were bookbinders, instrument makers, writers, and journalists, and included future lawyers, a geology professor, and an engineer who designed a bridge in New York City.”
“Initially, I followed male leads,” she said, “but I stumbled upon individuality and identity while living on a productive, politically active farm. My stories unearth how we established our own secure place of being and merged with nature.” Toward the end of the book, Keller included poems. “It’s a different format,” she said. “That’s who I am. I don’t follow procedures.”
In addition to the event at the Wendell Free Library, Keller will also appear at the Greenfield Public Library on Tuesday, May 26 at 6 p.m.
Eveline MacDougall is the author of “Fiery Hope” and can be reached at eveline@amandlachorus.org.