Stars of Wonder | Inside Yankee
A year ago I ended this page with a hopeful note: “One day soon, I know I will begin like this: We are back on the trail. Let’s go see everyone we have missed. It doesn’t matter when it is, it will be like our first Christmas.” And last spring, as we proudly showed off […]
A year ago I ended this page with a hopeful note: “One day soon, I know I will begin like this: We are back on the trail. Let’s go see everyone we have missed. It doesn’t matter when it is, it will be like our first Christmas.” And last spring, as we proudly showed off our vaccination cards, it felt as though windows had been opened on the first heady warm days of the season. We saw our neighbors’ faces for the first time in more than a year. We reclaimed the simple pleasures of sitting outside at a restaurant. We were there.
And then, as we all know now, we were not.
It would be easy to feel so forlorn that not even the buoyancy of the holidays could lift us. Sometimes, and this is one of those times, we need to be reminded by stories of hope and resilience and wonder that we did see the sun again, albeit too briefly, and that it still waits just behind the clouds.
When you read Joe Keohane’s ode to Myrtle the Turtle [“Queen of the Deep,” p. 100], think about what she overcame merely to survive to adulthood, let alone to become the New England Aquarium’s leading star.
Ian Aldrich’s story about the Giving Fridge in Middlebury, Vermont, [“Goodwill to Go,” p. 16] will introduce you to Bethanie Farrell, who responded to Covid upending her life by creating a way to provide delicious local food to neighbors in need.
For the past few weeks I have been listening to songs by a Maine chorus of girls and young women, nearly all immigrants who came to these shores after arduous journeys [ “Their Voices Carry Far,” p. 108]. Enter the lives of these singers, see how they have bonded not only with their music but also by reaching out to each other, and like me, you may find it impossible to believe that we cannot emerge from this pandemic with renewed purpose.
This issue of Yankee remains filled with the optimism that these holidays will connect us with family, friends, and each other. Threaded throughout the issue is the work of some of our region’s wealth of skilled artisans, who continue to create foods and handcrafts that remind us that talent and inspiration are not easily deterred. I want to imagine our readers settling in, turning these pages, and simply feeling the glow of possibilities that await—especially with “The Holiday Bucket List” [p. 88].
Finally, a closing note about Edie Clark, the writer of Yankee’s much-loved “Mary’s Farm” column. She wants her readers to know that the letters she has received from many of you are her own rays of light. Every day, she tries to write a few more lines of a new story. If you’d like to send Edie a note, write her at Jaffrey Nursing Center, 20 Plantation Drive, Jaffrey, NH 03452. Her work still lives at edieclark.com.
Mel Alleneditor@yankeemagazine.com
Mel Allen
Mel Allen is the fifth editor of Yankee Magazine since its beginning in 1935. His first byline in Yankee appeared in 1977 and he joined the staff in 1979 as a senior editor. Eventually he became executive editor and in the summer of 2006 became editor. During his career he has edited and written for every section of the magazine, including home, food, and travel, while his pursuit of long form story telling has always been vital to his mission as well. He has raced a sled dog team, crawled into the dens of black bears, fished with the legendary Ted Williams, profiled astronaut Alan Shephard, and stood beneath a battleship before it was launched. He also once helped author Stephen King round up his pigs for market, but that story is for another day. Mel taught fourth grade in Maine for three years and believes that his education as a writer began when he had to hold the attention of 29 children through months of Maine winters. He learned you had to grab their attention and hold it. After 12 years teaching magazine writing at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, he now teaches in the MFA creative nonfiction program at Bay Path University in Longmeadow, Massachusetts. Like all editors, his greatest joy is finding new talent and bringing their work to light.
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