“Did you grow up here?” “No, I grew up in Turners Falls.” For the 40 years I lived in Greater Springfield, that conversation had been repeated countless times. Sometimes I would hear. “Oh, that’s where the Bridge of Flowers is!” No, I reply, that’s Shelburne Falls. Hoping for instant recognition, I have tried, “I’m from Montague.” Blank look again. I have quickly added, “Turners Falls.” There is more name recognition for Turners Falls than for Montague. Wikipedia agrees; “Turners Falls is generally a metonymy for the entire town of Montague.”
Recently, I caught up on happenings in my hometown. Wow, I was amazed to learn of the National Park Service American Battlefield Grant awarded to Montague. Then I looked up the Technical and Final Performance Reports. Five Native American tribes participating. “A chief concern was to find a Native voice in the telling of the Falls Fight [1676]…” I think to myself, “Fabulous! this is really going to put Turners Falls on the map.”
Oops. There’s a petition to change the name to “Great Falls”?! Oh dear. So much for putting the place on the map. Actually, Turners Falls is on the AAA map in our car, and on the navigational map for recreational boaters, “Turners Falls, MA to Vernon, VT”. Good map. Very helpful when you’re on the Connecticut River and need to avoid sand bars and submerged rocks. My husband tells me that Turners Falls Airport is also recognized in navigational aids overseen by the Federal Aviation Administration. Hmm…
So, I check my road map. There is a Turners Falls Road in Montague, makes sense, but (yikes!) there is a Turners Falls Road in Greenfield and in Bernardston. That’s all right for Bernardston, I’m thinking. Bernardston was founded by land grants from the Massachusetts Colonial government to descendants of colonists who participated in the “Falls Fight.” (No, really?) So anyway, I guess those road names won’t be changed any time soon, not even by a vote of Montague to change the village name Turners Falls to “Great Falls.”
Ok, I argue with myself, so people may be confused by old maps, but who uses paper maps anyway? All right, true enough … and Turners Falls Airport may still be Turners Falls Airport. But let’s say there is a name change…what will I tell the people who ask me where I’m from? “Great Falls, I’ll say.” I hear a reply, “Oh, that’s in Virginia, right?” Huh? So, I look it up. National Park Service website: “The Patowmack Canal offers a glimpse into the early history of this country. Great Falls Park has many opportunities to explore history and nature, … only 15 miles from the Nation’s Capital.”
My Safari search engine has gone wild now.… “Great Falls is a city in Montana … known as the “’electric city’ because of its numerous dams and power plants. Visit Montana.” My heart sinks.
On my imaginary whirlwind safari, I’m now in Missouri, “Great Falls Portage, Lewis and Clark 1805.” National Park Service again? I’m getting hungry.
I look up the menu for Great Falls House of Pizza … “permanently closed.” Wait, never mind. That’s the one in South Carolina. No worries, Turners Falls House of Pizza, Inc. is open.
When the Battlefield Grant Advisory Group finishes their work with interpretive signage, meditation garden, or, who knows,… Turners Falls, (or Great Falls, whatever,) will be on the map.
So, our future imaginary road trip takes us through Bernardston, (we took the Turners Falls Road to Great Falls, Montague), we take the Turners Falls Gill Bridge, visit the Great Falls Discovery Center and enjoy the new interpretive area about the Falls Fight. (This is the future, remember?) We then walk past the Shady Glen and find that we are in a National Historic District. Cool. But wait … it’s the Turners Falls Historic District. Well, naturally, it’s a Federal Designation for a place of particular interest, a 19th century planned Industrial City. Alvah Crocker named the place Turners Falls for the corporation he formed to build a power canal, mills, housing, and banks.
My head is spinning. I ask my travel companions, “We can still buy ice cream at the old Crocker Bank, right?”
Louise Boucher Croll lives in South Hadley.