By Glenn Doty

I was a young sportswriter at The Times Herald Record in 1963. Politics, to which the late editor Al Romm introduced me a few years later, really didn’t mean a whole lot to me then.

Sure, I voted. That’s something several college classes suggested was important, and I voted for Dwight Eisenhower when I turned 21. The General – that’s how I thought of him – just seemed like the right person. After all, he was a pretty successful military man.

And then 1960 arrived and a Navy man, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, a PT boat commander, wound up with the Democratic nomination, not that the party meant much to me, although my mom and her dad were both Democrats.

Funny, it really didn’t sink in that Kennedy was from a very rich and influential Massachusetts family. I do remember stories that his time as a U.S. senator was less than auspicious. But he was Catholic, and that’s how I was raised. If elected he’d be this country’s first Catholic president, and I think that meant more to me than his political party affiliation.

It also meant that my kids, if they decided on a political life (and none did), could aspire to the White House.

So, sports aside, I followed Kennedy’s march to Election Day 1960 and I couldn’t wait to vote for him. Wow! He won a tight race.

Funny, down through the years since, inaugural speeches haven’t been that important to me, although after Jimmy Carter I really wanted to hear what Ronald Reagan had to say.

But the Kennedy speech in 1961 was important. And he started the day the right way – with Robert Frost, who was my favorite poet, delivering a prophecy that everyone, I think, hoped would be true.

As for Kennedy’s inaugural speech, it probably ranks right up there, but it’s his forever-to-be-quoted conclusion that has stayed with me: “Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.”

I seem to remember a little moisture around the eyes then. And every time I hear or read those words, that moisture returns.

There were mistakes during his short term. The Cuba invasion fiasco was one, but he did get Russia’s missiles out of there.

But there was Jackie, and then they had Caroline and then John Jr. And despite some of his problems, including getting us deeper into the Vietnam war, he looked like he might well be the Democrats’ nominee for a second term, which is what led him to Texas in November of 1963.

The great never-to-be-answered JFK question: Would he have continued our Vietnam involvement?

I don’t remember much more about Nov. 22. It was one of those days when I went to the office early – probably there were basketball games scheduled for that night. But then, a little after noon, the United Press International wire machine bells sounded and I had to see what was up. The bulletin: The president’s been shot! My God, the anger I felt: Who in hell would do that? And then, a few minutes later: The president is dead.

Tears? There weren’t many of us in the newsroom that early in the afternoon, but there were tears – and disbelief. And anger. Who would do that?

It’s been 50 years. We’ve learned a lot about JFK, and not all has been good. But he was a hero to many of us and the memory of that afternoon? It still produces tears.

* * *

Glenn Doty is a former managing editor of The Times Herald-Record and former editor of the Legislative Gazette.

By Ken Goldfarb

Unlike a lot of “real” sports fans, I cannot recall many specifics about baseball, the game that I have learned to love more and more as time passed.

Games I have seen, along with major league records or player stats or even who won the World Series in any particular year, are a blur.

Then again, that’s not always the case if it involves the Mets, or the old Brooklyn Dodgers.

As a kid growing up in Brooklyn in the early 50s there was only one team to root for, the hometown Dodgers. How two very famous Brooklyn boys failed in that regard – Joe Torre rooted for the old New York Giants, and Rudy Giuliani went with the Yankees – is beyond me.

For me it was the Duke, Jackie, Pee Wee, Campy, Gil and the rest of the Boys of Summer.

Similar to Mike Kaufman’s experience, which he wrote about in last week’s Zest of Orange, my first view of the unbelievable green of Ebbets Field was awesome to this 5-year old. You have to remember that back then, color television had not yet reached the average viewer. So to watch Dodgers games on WOR-TV in shades of grey, and then to actually see them in person (with the vibrant colors of the field and the players’ sparkling white uniforms), took my breath away.

I have no recollection of who the visiting team was, or who won the game. But, I do remember Roy Campanella, the very talented but ill-fated catcher of the Dodgers, hit a line drive straight at us sitting in the leftfield stands. This wasn’t one of those parabolic home runs with an apogee somewhere high over the grass that then slowly came down into the seats. This was a rocket aimed right at us. The ever enlarging ball seemed at first to have me or my dad as its intended target. But it flew above us and was still going up when a man seated directly behind us stood and tried to catch it in his bare right hand. He failed, and the ball dropped down and wandered under the seats to someone a few rows in front of us. But the man who first put flesh to Campy’s home run shot was now suffering. From the ball’s impact, his hand had swollen to almost twice its normal size.

As for me, I had no baseball skills back in my youth. I was usually chosen last in any of the Brooklyn street games, and my two seasons of Little League ball were un-noteworthy.

Jump ahead a few decades and I got talked into playing in a casual coed softball game. I still didn’t have much success, but enjoyed playing.

Then, six years ago, when I was 62, I had the guts to join a senior men’s baseball team.

Yes, baseball – hard ball – the real game. Now, I have to say my skills are still quite limited. On top of everything else, I am the oldest player on my 55-and-over team. But there are magical moments. Such as when you hit a baseball with a wooden bat and hear and feel the proverbial crack of the bat. It is a sound that enters your entire being with a thrill rarely matched by other experience.

Almost as thrilling was a particular at-bat that stands out as my proudest moment as a ball player. It was in my second year, and I was on a new team after having had an off-season disagreement with the manager of my first team, the Cougars. I was now on the Hawks and we were playing the Cougars.

The game was tied – we were the home team – and I led off in the first extra inning. For the first time in my life I decided to bunt, and a very successful bunt it was. I beat the throw to first base for an infield hit, but the ball couldn’t be handled, and I ended up on second base. Then I got to third on a ground-out.

Our next batter hit a slow ground ball to the third baseman and I was immediately off and running for home, easily scoring the winning run. What a grand moment – and against my old team. It doesn’t get any better.

By the way, I’m still playing, and got a nice hit in the recent brutal heat with a hard ground ball down the foul line that the third baseman couldn’t touch.

Not bad for an old man.

Ken Goldfarb was news director at WVOS in Sullivan County and later a reporter for The Times Herald-Record of Middletown and the Daily Gazette of Schenectady. He now works in public relations.

By Brian Fleming

Note: This article first ran as a letter to the editor of The Warwick Advertiser.

I went to a Christmas party in Warwick and like many other Americans I spent most of the time discussing gun control in America with friends. The evil incident in Connecticut has sparked a debate that will not die. My entire adult life I have been a registered Republican and I have almost always argued from the right. However, when it comes to the subject of handguns possessed and carried by non-law enforcement civilians I just cannot agree with my friends on the right.

I feel that I am as qualified to speak on the subject as anyone else; after all I have legally owned and carried handguns in New York State for 26 years. I grew up in New York City, I joined the NYPD at the age of 20 and I have stared down the barrel of a gun several times. I have been shot at and I have also fired my gun in self-defense, but in the line of duty. I now carry an Orange County Carry Pistol Permit as a retired law enforcement officer. I know what it’s like to carry a gun and not to carry a gun. I have heard arguments and stories of legal gun owners successfully defending their property and their lives, but I have also heard of more tragic stories.

Adam Lanza was able to access his mother’s legally owned guns and commit this heinous act. That is the bottom line. Every legally possessed gun in America cannot be properly secured. There will be guns accessed by children.

I feel that we have to take an honest look at the laws in this country for the sake of our children. Many people want to own and carry guns because it gives them a feeling of power. Most will not admit this, but it’s true. When someone is carrying a gun, they act differently. They face a situation, sometimes escalating it, instead of avoiding it. When I fired my gun in 1992 in self defense, I was off duty. It was after I ran down two thugs who had just robbed a store in Queens. They turned and tried to shoot me. If I did not have my gun that day, I would have never run after them and they would have gotten away. No one would have fired any guns that day. On February 26, 2012 Trayvon Martin was shot and killed by George Zimmerman in Sanford, Fla. No matter what you believe happened that night, if Zimmerman did not have a gun, Trayvon Martin would be alive today.

As a Father, who was heartbroken after hearing about the Connecticut killing of those innocent children, I feel I have to be honest about how I feel, even if it means disagreeing with friends.

By Nadia Allen

Mental Health Association in Orange County joins Americans in mourning the loss of those killed in the tragic shootings in Newtown, Conn. Our thoughts and sincere prayers are with the families of the victims and everyone who is affected by this horrific event. Additionally, we express our hope for the full recovery of those who were injured.

At this point, we do not know the motivation behind this senseless act. We do know that events like this will impact families, the Newtown community and the nation. Many may feel at risk and may experience feelings of anxiety and fear. Parents may be groping with how to discuss these and similar events with their children.

Mental Health America has developed guidelines to help Americans respond and cope with tragic events, which can be found at www.mentalhealthamerica.net/go/information/get-info/coping-with-disaster. To guide discussions about the shooting, MHA offers the following suggestions for parents as they communicate with young people in the area and across the nation:

• Children sense the anxiety and tension in adults around them. Furthermore, like adults, children experience the same feelings of helplessness and lack of control that tragedy-related stress can bring about. Conversely, unlike adults, children have little experience to help them place their current situation into perspective.

• Each child responds differently to tragedy, depending on his or her understanding and maturity, but it’s easy to see how an event of this magnitude can create a great deal of anxiety in children of all ages. Most likely, they will interpret the tragedy as a personal danger to themselves and those they care about.

• Whatever the child’s age or relationship to the damage caused by tragedy, it’s important that you be open about the consequences for your family, and that you encourage him or her to talk about it.

• Talk honestly about the incident, without graphic detail, and share some of your own feelings about it.

• Encourage young people to talk about their concerns and to express their feelings, and validate the young person’s feelings and concerns.

• Limit television viewing. It can be difficult to process the images and messages in news reports.

• Recognize what may be behind a young person’s behavior. They may minimize their concerns outwardly, but may become argumentative, withdrawn or allow their school performance to decline.

• Keep the dialogue going even after media coverage subsides. Continue to talk about feelings and discuss actions being taken to make schools and communities safer.

• Seek help when necessary. If you are worried about a young person’s reaction or have ongoing concerns about his/her behavior or emotions, contact a mental health professional at their school or at your community mental health center.

Our thoughts and prayers are with the families and loved ones of those who lost their lives and everyone who is affected by these shocking events. And we join in applauding the brave actions of individuals who prevented greater harm.

It will likely take many days to understand the reasons and motivations behind this national tragedy. Many have pointed to mental health as an issue. It must first be emphasized that people with mental health conditions are no more likely to be violent than the rest of the population. Furthermore, we have science-based methods to successfully treat persons with even the most severe mental illnesses. A very small group of individuals with a specific type of mental health symptoms are at greater risk for violence if their symptoms are untreated.

It is also important that, as a community, we assist persons with signs and symptoms of mental illnesses to seek treatment. Although rare, when a person becomes so ill that he/she is a danger to themselves or others state laws provide a way to provide them help even if they don’t believe that they need it. The best strategy, however, is to have an accessible system of care that is easy to use, well funded and provides effective services.

Science has not developed tools to predict reliably individuals at risk for violence. But we can reduce the small risk of violence in those with certain mental health conditions by investing in proven intensive, coordinated community-based mental health services and making certain that they can access these services.

We do not know if the mental health system failed in this situation or if there were missed opportunities or if effective treatment might have averted this tragedy. It’s our sincere hope that we can find answers and create solutions that prevent this tragedy from ever happening again.

If you are worried about a young person’s reaction or have ongoing concerns about his/her behavior or emotions, contact a mental health professional at their school or at your community mental health center. We encourage you to call MHA’s 24/7 Helpline @ 1-800-832-1200 and/or text MHA’s TEXT 4 TEENS @ 845-391-1000 for information, referrals, or to simply talk or text with a trained listener.

Nadia Allen is executive director of Mental Health Association in Orange County. MHA is a private, not-for-profit agency seeking to promote the positive mental health and emotional well-being of Orange County residents, working towards reducing the stigma of mental illness, developmental disabilities, and providing support to victims of sexual assault and other crimes. 

By Russ Layne

A beer and a hot-blowing blues band could be the best antidote to … the blues. If you have a hankering for this uniquely American jazz form, think of the Hudson Valley, which is, in fact, a blues hotbed.

So what are the blues? Very briefly, they’re the melancholy music we associate with Ma Rainey and Bessie Smith, and which originated as an amalgamation of African music and slave spirituals mixed with the purely American 12-bar sound.

It got its start in the Mississippi Delta region and fought its way north, first to St. Louis, then west to Kansas City and finally landed back east in Chicago, its American home.

Such blues luminaries as Billie Holiday, Lester Young and Janis Joplin are long gone, succeeded by performers such as Stevie Ray Vaughn, Eric Clapton, and B.B. King. Their generation, in turn, paved the way for some younger blues performers, many of whom live and perform here in the valley and have been instrumental in maintaining an interest in the blues.

Developing that interest isn’t difficult. It just takes three or four chords on a guitar and two or three shots of a favored drink and anyone can sing the blues though not necessarily become the next Bill Perry, Ted Horowitz. David Keyes, Slam Allen and others now rooted in the valley.

The late Bill Perry was born in Goshen on Christmas 1957 in Goshen, led his own band and played guitar for Richie Havens. Perry was a big hit in Europe playing for large, enthusiastic audiences. He was 49 when he died in Sugar Loaf in 2007.

Among contemporary players is Ted Horowitz of Monroe, known in jazz and blues clubs as Popa Chubby, a nice – sometimes not so nice – kid from the Bronx. Popa, like Perry before him, records for major blues labels and has a big following in Europe.

Several years ago, after playing a blues assembly program for the students at Warwick Valley High School, Popa was approached by a shy but precocious drum student, Chris Redden. A few years later, after more training, Redden toured with the Popa Chubby Blues Band. Popa’s sometimes tempestuous side doesn’t always make him easy to work for. So from time to time, Chris and his brother John take a break from Popa and perform as the Redden Brothers Band.

David Keyes, a blues piano/vocalist who lives in Sloatsburg, has performed with Gladys Knight, Chuck Berry and the late Bo Diddley and Odetta. He also has appeared in such Broadway fare as “Smokey Joe’s Cafe,” “Lennon,” and “Urban Cowboy.” Keyes doesn’t forget his hometown roots, and several times a year, when he’s not on the road, he plays at Rhodes Tavern or Sunnyside’s with no cover and no minimum. He also plays the Turning Point in Piermont for which there’s a small fee.

Then there’s Slam Allen of Sullivan County who spent eight years performing with the great blues harmonica player James Cotton.

Attend a Slam Allen show and you never know when he’ll walk off the stage with his guitar, sit right down next to you, and finish the song. He’ll have you grinning, laughing and wondering what’s so blue about the blues. Recently at Brian’s Backyard BBQ in Middletown, in the middle of a set, he handed his guitar over to a 14-year old kid in the audience. Surprise. The kid was hotter than Brian’s hot sauce.

Here are some Hudson Valley clubs to keep an eye on for blues shows:

–Brian’s Backyard BBQ on Route 211 between Middletown and Montgomery.

–Sunnyside’s on Route 17 in Sloatsburg has been around since 1928, long enough to have fed such people as Bing Crosby, Sugar Ray Robinson, and Jimmy Durante.

–The always packed Rhodes Tavern on Route 17 in Sloatsburg.

–The Turning Point in Piermont occasionally presents such nationally known players as Marcia Ball, the Nighthawks, and the Robert Ross Band.

Russ Layne is executive director of the Sugar Loaf Music Series, which he founded 29 years ago.

By Randolph Hurst
Despite never-ending extremist attacks, President Obama displays brilliance, grace and humility. In the face of Republican animosity and obstructionism, he has remained poised and steadfast, calmly arguing the case for the American people. It is a kindness to suggest that the GOP’s behavior is based on ideology.

It does not become a president to call them out about their conduct. But most of us know that the attacks against this president are more about resentment of a man of bi-racial heritage who has demonstrated the acumen, leadership and bravery to do what none of his foes have the will or backbone to do. That is, to champion peace, justice, integrity, ingenuity, environmental stewardship, harmony in our diversity, and a reasonable quality of life for all Americans.

But there is more. Their conduct is grossly influenced by corporate money and manipulation of government officials through unbridled campaign and political action committee (PAC) activities. Controls on these ended after the Supreme Court ruled in the Citizens United case of 2010 that corporations have the same free speech rights as individuals. The court’s decision could easily be called the Koch Decision, for the gas and oil billionaire brothers who invest millions to gain political control of our nation and to ensure their own wealth.

It is no longer of the people, by the people, and for the people. It is of the corporation, by the corporation, and for the corporation. Lincoln would be aghast.

Why is it that McConnell, Boehner, Cantor, and Republican presidential candidates attack and reject every initiative President Obama proposes even when to do so is contrary to positions they have taken previously? It defies common sense, and disgraces our country. The answers are fear, greed, power and envy; envy that a black man just might succeed in doing what they would not.

These politicos are empty suits and empty skirts behaving as members of a corporate goon platoon. As long as they toe the party line, they will have access to millions of campaign dollars and the marketing resources to denigrate opponents and cover their own agendas. And all this is predicated on the misguided and insulting assumption that the American people are gullible, uninformed and easy marks; that the disenfranchised are so disillusioned they will not vote, and that party loyalty, deceptive rhetoric and prejudice will trump intuition, sound judgment and the American spirit.

President Obama is betting on the American people. He has more confidence in us than we have in each other, and it is going to be a long and arduous battle to November and thereafter should he succeed, and depending on who takes the House and Senate.

In his State of the Union address, President Obama laid out a common sense vision that encompasses many noble initiatives, all articulated in a clear and forthright manner. He made an overt attempt to persuade his “Republican friends” and fellow Democrats to follow the good example of our armed forces; men and women putting differences aside, selflessly watching each others’ backs, working together to the achieve their mission for the good of our country. In his way he extended an olive branch to his “colleagues.”

Yet, after listening to the Republican response by Indiana Governor Mitch Daniels and others, it is evident the president’s words fell on deaf ears. Corporate money and special interests will drive this historic election and turn it into a circus. Romney, Gingrich, Santorum or maybe Paul will carry the corporate banner and it will get even uglier than their own campaign for the Republican nomination. Are they really the best the conservative establishment has to offer?

The campaign will be a crapshoot. Will Americans go to the polls and vote? Will bigotry and racism be major factors? Will we vote with our heads, our hearts and our conscience, or will the clever, dishonest and deceptive marketing that caters to baser attitudes win the day?

Randolph Hurst, a guest writer, is a Vietnam War era veteran, green technology advocate, and a member of the 99 percent. He lives in Orange County.

Send comments to jeffrey@zestoforange.com

By Jean Webster
One day sometime in the 1970’s, I sat on the doorstep of Inez Gridley’s house on a hillside in Grahamsville, and shared with her a story I’d been writing, looking for advice.

The next time we met she invited me to a meeting of the Alchemy Club, a poetry group which by then had existed for about 40 years and is still going strong after 80. Inez was one of its founders.

“You’ll get feedback there,” she said.

The idea for the club was hatched by Inez George Gridley in her farmhouse around 1930. A writer since childhood, she wanted someone else to hear and respond to her poems. For that, she sought out two good friends, Mabel Hill and her daughter, Evelyn Hill Huntsberger, both poets.

The three were the first members of what was to become known as the Alchemy Club. Homemakers, and teachers in one-room schoolhouses, they managed to write and meet regularly, reading their poems to each other, evaluating and revising their work.

In the early 1940’s they took a correspondence course from Clement Wood, a versatile and prolific poet and writer in New York City. He critiqued their work, and challenged them to try new forms. I remember them quoting Wood’s lessons. They even attributed their personal success to his courses. His “Complete Rhyming Dictionary and Poet’s Craft Book,” published in 1936, is still available.

Inez told us that when she was short on funds, Wood assured her, “Don’t worry if you can’t pay this month. Send it when you publish your first poem.”

Those words were prophetic. In addition to her poetry in The Alchemist (the club’s quadrennial anthology), she published collections, including Journey from Red Hill, Potatoes and Puddingstones, and, when she was 92, Pitfalls & Promises. Several are available through the Ramapo-Catskill Library System. Her work also appeared in popular magazines and The New York Times. Here’s an example, titled “Growing Old”:

I want to milk this old cow dry.
When the last sweet stream pings in the pail
and she grows tired of my pulling and fumbling
she will kick me over
and send me flying head over heels.
I’d like to go out the way I came in
Kicking and squalling.

Inez also wrote about local history, contributing to Time and the Valley, a book about the villages submerged by the Rondout Reservoir.

As the group grew, members adopted the name “The Alchemy Club,” because as poets they took everyday events and turned them into gold.

After resisting for a time, I took Inez’s advice, joined the club, worked and learned to write poetry. Writing and reading poems has taught me to see the world differently: to home in on the small things, whether in prose or poetry; to be more direct; to listen and look. I believe composing poetry has helped me to be a better writer.

The Alchemy Club meets monthly at the Daniel Pierce Library in Grahamsville. There are no dues. “Just bring a poem,” they say, “with copies for everyone.”

Each person reads her/his poem, and listens to comments. Then, the poems are mailed around to the group for people to re-read and make written comments. I found these remarks to be more direct and helpful, perhaps because we had more time to consider what we’d read.

Publication of The Alchemist began in the 1960’s. It appears about every four years, and everyone in the group can contribute poems and the funds to produce the chapbook, now about 80 pages.

I was one of two editors of the 1995 anthology, which was dedicated to Inez and Evelyn. Both were still active members more than 60 years after they and Mabel Hill had dedicated themselves to making golden the ordinary and extraordinary events of life. Evelyn passed away in 2004 at the age of 94, Inez one year later at 97.

Today, the newly named Alchemy Writers’ Workshop isn’t only about poetry though it is still the focus. The Workshop is always open to new members – the next generation of writers turning everyday events into gold.

Jean Webster, a poet and freelance writer formerly of Grahamsville, lives in coastal Maine.

Kayvan Sabeghi

(Note: A second Iraq War veteran was seriously injured last week in Oakland after a run-in with police using tear gas and other riot control measures in connection with Occupy Oakland.  What follows is a first-hand account of the man’s treatment in an Oakland jail.)

By Max Gaydos

He had been making phone calls, trying to post bail and it seemed like he’d be out soon. They told him his bail would post in four to six hours and he slouched into a sitting/sleeping spot on a bench like the 20 or so rest of us occupying the cell.  Some of us were awake and talked with him about what his charges were. He told us he was charged with assault on an officer and how the police actually just beat him

Some time later, I noticed how sweaty and clammy he was, with his arms clenching his stomach. He stumbled to the window and pleaded for medical help. He was disregarded. Those of us in the cell witnessing this naturally wanted to help. How one can ignore such obvious pain and need for help is sickening. One kid banged on the cell door until the on-duty officer came around to open the door and tell him to stop making so much noise. Clearly skeptical of the many pleas for medical assistance coming from the cell, the officer made it clear he felt we were wasting his time.

By this point, Kayvan had collapsed to the floor at the officer’s feet and was saying things like, “I can’t breathe,” “my whole f…ng stomach,” “Dude, I’m passing out, I’m passing out, I’m just passing out.”

I don’t know if he ever did pass out, but it was enough for the officer to ask him what his name was. Speech was coming with difficultly for Kayvan, but he managed to answer. He then began throwing up what looked like stomach acid. The officer asked for someone to bring over a garbage pail. A nurse did so and asked other rudimentary questions, though Kayvan was still not getting the amount of attention he surely seemed to need.

Lying on the floor, hovering around his puddles of puke, he answered all the questions. Then they shut the cell door and he crawled down the corridor out of sight. A janitor pushing a mop bucket rattled down the hallway.

Later, the officer came back to talk to those in our cell. He told us to let him do his job and to not make it harder for him. He asked if any of us had any kind of medical degree to qualify us to handle or even comment on how he handled the situation. A resounding silence he understood to mean no. But we all had taken Kayvan at his word.

* * *

Here is a link to an initial report on Kayvan Sabeghi by The Guardian:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/nov/04/occupy-oakland-second-veteran-injured?fb=optOut&fb_source=message

Later reports in the San Francisco Chronicle said Sabeghi, 32, “told members of Iraq Veterans Against the War that he was beaten with nightsticks on his hands, shoulders, ribs and back by police or Alameda County sheriff’s deputies. He suffered internal injuries, including a lacerated spleen, he told the group. Emily Yates, a member of the group, said Sabeghi was awake and alert when she visited him at the hospital Friday. Sabeghi identified himself as a veteran, Yates said.”

Max Gaydos, a native of Scotchtown, is an art student on leave from SUNY Purchase, currently living in Oakland.

By Jean Webster
Honeybees the world over are in danger, from commercial beekeepers with 30 to 40,000 hives whose honeybees pollinate farmers’ crops, to backyard beekeepers with one or more hives. Blame has been placed on pesticides, used on agri-farms, that can kill a hive within a few years as well as mites and diseases that cause deformed and weakened bees.

Five years ago, we started with one beehive in the backyard of our home near the ocean in mid-coast Maine. It had more to do with a retirement occupation than the plight of the bees. Since then we’ve become champions of honeybees, like the thousands of backyard beekeepers in small towns and even in cities like New York and Chicago. It’s not about the honey. It’s about the bees.

All went well our first year. We joined a regional club, learned a little, and got about six pounds of honey. Sweet! How little we really knew.

The following year we learned firsthand about swarms – when nearly half the 60,000-plus bees in the hive take a new queen and abandon the colony. Why? No one is sure. It could be crowded quarters or an aging queen. We learned that “swarms” can happen frequently.

Our bees swarmed one Sunday morning while we were enjoying coffee and the newspaper on our front porch. We heard the swarm before we saw it, and immediately went into action. Houses here are practically within arms distance. We had to move fast.

The bee club has a “swarm chain,” a list of people looking for bees to populate a hive. We already had a second hive in the woods near my brother-in-law’s house. So we contacted Linda who lives about five miles away and who was in the market for bees for another hive.

Linda had recently rescued a swarm, so we followed her instructions. Fortunately, the swarm (which looks like a giant’s beard, with all the bees clustered together, keeping the queen safe in the center) was in a low bush. But, it was in our neighbors’ yard. Understandably, they weren’t happy, but we assured them we just needed time and space.

It took less than half an hour to coax the swarm – 30,000 bees – into the wooden box Linda would use to transport them home. Our remaining bees could get on with their work, bringing in nectar and pollen for the hive.

Two weeks later our honeybees swarmed again. This time, I was on my own. I’d ignored a few bees in our dining room skylight on Saturday. That was the clue. Now, there were about a dozen. And, when I walked outside for the paper, I saw the telltale “beard” on a flowering bush by our driveway – about five feet high.

Checking the “swarm chain,” I contacted Ken, a longtime beekeeper who was delighted to claim the swarm, and “rescue” the stranded bees in my skylights.

We both wore protective gear: a lightweight one-piece suit, long gloves and a pith helmet with netting over it. This outfit made it difficult for a rebellious bee to sting us.

Using clippers, Ken cut the bee-covered branch off the bush and shook the bees into the bucket I held. I quickly whisked the screened cover onto the bucket, and our second swarm was ready for transport.

Now for the bees in the skylights. They’d probably arrived the day before the swarm to scout for a new home. Our old cottage has many entrances for honeybees. They were simply trying it out.

For this rescue, we used a ladder and two yogurt containers with covers. “I haven’t done this since I was a kid,” Ken said, thrilled to be renewing this odd pastime.

One at a time we liberated the dozen or so bees in my skylights by scooping each into a container. I hurried each one outside, hoping she’d return to our much-decimated hive. And that’s how we rescued those scouts, mostly without harm.

There were no more swarms that summer, but also no honey for us. Beekeepers have to leave enough honey in the hive for the bees to survive the winter.

However, the 2011 season rewarded us with nearly 125 pounds of honey. This “gold” came from three hives at three locations. The flavor of the honey is a combination of plants and flowers in each neighborhood.

How beekeepers harvest the honey is another story.

Jean Webster is a poet, freelance writer and candy shop proprietor in Maine.