A Wonderful Life
Rosaly Swann Bass, a longtime Peterborough resident, says a sense of humor and love of a good challenge have made for a wonderful life.
The founder of Rosaly’s Garden, New Hampshire’s oldest and still thriving certified organic farm, shared some memories when we visited at her home in RiverMead recently.
She was a junior at Wells College in Aurora, New York, when she married Bill Riley, who had courted her for years at her family’s home in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. “I wasn’t really interested in getting married, but I finally said yes.”
The wedding was a fancy affair at the family home, called Cherry Hill. Formal pictures were taken by the staircase where Rosaly and her siblings used to launch themselves, sliding sideways off the bannister.
Following the birth of their son, George, Rosaly paused college, but returned to Wells a year later and earned her degree. After baby Matthew arrived the following year, the growing family moved to Hawaii for two years, and then to Francestown when Bill Riley accepted a teaching position at Franklin Pierce College. During that time, Rosaly taught philosophy at Nathaniel Hawthorne College in Antrim.
George and Matthew were in grade school when their mother turned back to a Swann, after their parents divorced. Yearning for a fresh start, Rosaly packed her old Jeep to capacity, and moved with her boys to New York City.
As Matthew and George began third and fifth grade in a new school, Rosaly also walked into a new classroom of her own.
Public School 125 in Harlem was huge, up to six classrooms per grade. Swann was hired in January. “I wasn’t supposed to last. They’d taken all the difficult fifth graders and put them in one class.” Twelve teachers had already quit this position. Swann finished out the year.
When asked how she managed to do what others could not, she said, “I have a sense of humor about everything, and I like people. It wasn’t easy, but I tried to just enjoy the kids and appreciate them as people. We tried to have some fun. I chose to make it work.”
At year’s end, the principal offered Swann any classroom she wanted, if she would only stay. For the next four years, Rosaly taught third grade, and earned her Master’s in Education at Columbia University while her sons spent summers in New Hampshire with their father.
Having grown up skiing in the Berkshires, Rosaly wanted her students to experience the thrill and freedom of skiing, too.
In March 1973, Rosaly brought 40 Public School 125 third and fourth-graders to Mount Snow in Vermont. Before sunrise, students and chaperones boarded a bus at 125th Street and arrived at the mountain at 10:30 a.m., where rentals, lessons, sleigh rides, lunch and dinner were all provided by the resort.
The field trip was Rosaly’s idea, and came together with the help of her friend, Ruedi Wyrsch. A former Swiss National Ski Team member, who led Mount Snow’s ski school, Wyrsch and Rosaly dated for a while, and he was happy to help organize a perfect day for the kids.
The Pied Piper of skiing in the 1970s, Wyrsch was renowned for his fun ski lessons and acrobatics. Skiing on stilts and freestyle tricks made Ruedi a legend. The students from Harlem loved him.
Wyrsch’s magic with kids inspired Rosaly to write her first book, “The Big Tall Man on Skis.” It is a story of imagination and kindness, encouraging readers to try new things and embrace challenges.
Rosaly describes her childhood as untethered. As the oldest of five children, she bonded most closely with her brother Mark, two years younger than herself.
Her parents’ only rule was that the children had to have good manners. Cleaning their rooms was not a thing, so when they couldn’t stand their own messes, Rosaly and Mark just moved into other unoccupied bedrooms in the 14-bedroom house.
Meals were grab-and-go at a time when other families sat down to regular meals. The exception was proper dinners once or twice a week when the formal dining room table was beautifully set, and guests included Norman Rockwell and other neighbors.
Rosaly and Mark roamed the fields and woods surrounding their house. They were rarely at rest, and were always three– with best friend and cousin Story Musgrave, who lived with his mother in one of the cottages on the Swann property.
A friend for life, Story formed the Candy Club for the Swann kids, who were not allowed to eat sugar. “Story was our buyer. Mark and I stole coins from our parents’ coat pockets. Story bought us chocolate bars. It was the best.”
Another childhood memory is seared in Rosaly’s mind. “Mark (9 years old) ran across our pond when his dog fell through the ice. I went in after Mark, and I fell through. I grabbed Mark, but the dog kept climbing on top of us and pushing us underwater again and again. From shore, Story yelled to me to swim the other way to where the ice looked softer. He was right. I dragged Mark 20 yards or so and was able to pull him through the thinner ice and onto shore, where Story helped me drag Mark up to the house. I’d lost my shoes in the pond. It was an awful walk back to the house. My parents were very angry at Story for not jumping in after us. But he saved our lives.”
Musgrave became an NASA astronaut, the only one to fly on all five space stations. The three remained lifelong friends.
The Swann’s big messy kitchen was a gathering spot; neighbors and summer people dropped by unannounced. “They’d grab a cup of coffee or, if the pot was empty, make a new pot and sit and visit with my father, and we all hung out.” Arlo Guthrie popped in often over the years.
“My father was wonderful. He made up for my mother, who was very Bostonian, not at all warm. I didn’t like her because she never liked me. I don’t know why, but she just didn’t. One Christmas I didn’t get a single present. She had gifts for all the other kids. When I saw I wasn’t getting anything, I decided not to complain; I would just tough it out.” Rosaly was 8 years old.
“Luckily, my father was very loving and affectionate. He was interesting, always laughing and doing things with us. He took us skiing, skating and sledding. We played tennis together, hayed our fields and worked with him haying other people’s fields. I learned to drive tractors, and help fix cutters, balers and other equipment. And I hand-milked our two cows.”
At age 10, Rosaly begged for a horse, but her father hated horses and said no. He was only 6 years old when his father was crushed to death by his polo pony. But when Rosaly was 13, her father brought home Clikka. “I felt free as a bird riding her,” she remembers.
Sent to FoxHollow, a nearby boarding school, at age 12, Rosaly suppressed her tendency toward shenanigans in order to stay demerit-free. She was very motivated. “Any demerit meant I could not go home for the weekend and ride Clikka. I made sure I was very good.”
School was hard. Rosaly read her first book as a junior in high school. “I hid it all those years, just listening very carefully and getting by even though I couldn’t read. When I was called on, and I couldn’t answer a question, I burst into tears. It was awful. I’m dyslexic, but I didn’t know it then and neither did my teachers. I think my father had the same problem.”
After five years teaching in Harlem, Rosaly returned to New Hampshire when Perkins Bass, a former U.S. Congressman, asked her to be his bride. At 36, Rosaly was just a few years older than some of her new husband’s five children. They’d lost their mother to cancer. The new marriage was not easy for them, nor for Rosaly, who moved into the house where they’d grown up.
Rosaly and Perkins were married for nearly 40 years, when he died in 2011 at 99 years old. “Perkins was wonderful, the love of my life. We kept the farm going together. I could not have done it without him.” When not digging in the dirt together, they spent time with family and friends, and they traveled.”
They canoed the Amazon River, and loved hiking and riding mopeds at their winter getaway in Grand Cayman. They also worked hard to restore their land each time a hurricane tore through their island home.
“When I married Perkins, my family grew and kept growing. I am so fortunate.”
Soon after moving into the Bass homestead in 1973, Rosaly planted a small garden which expanded each year into what is still Rosaly’s Garden, on Route 123 in Peterborough.
For more than 40 years, as she grew the farm, Rosaly mentored hundreds of young people, many of whom went on to start their own farms. Whether in the classroom, picking pests off of rows of tomatoes, or on a tennis court with her grandchildren, Rosaly was a mentor, the generous teacher we all wish we had.
“The farm was my pride and joy. Of course, my family is too, but growing food and flowers for others and doing it the best way we could, I’m proud of that. And I really loved doing it. It was never easy, but it was so rewarding.”
Rosaly’s granddaughter, Alex Walker, now runs the farm along with her business partners. “To have Alex still farming the land makes me so happy.”
At 88, Rosaly Bass is cheerful. And she’s busy. When I arrived at our appointed time several days last week, she was in the middle of a group exercise class, or bingo, or the group crossword puzzle. On our last visit, I sat in for a few rounds of bingo until she won and could tear herself away to sort through old photos with me.
Her right leg was propped up straight, wrapped in a long immobilizing brace she was outfitted for after a fall. The contraption slows her roll a bit, but doesn’t tarnish her sunny disposition.
“It’s shocking to me that my siblings, all younger than me — are all gone. And Perkins. I miss them all. Getting older isn’t easy or pretty. I just try to enjoy each day. As much as I am able, I keep moving, keep doing things.”
BOX:
During Rosaly’s latest move, she found a box of the children’s book that she published in 1973. She has given them to the Ledger-Transcript to share with the community.
Free to new and renewing subscribers. Pick up at our office at 20 Grove St. in Peterborough.
Schools or libraries that wish to have a copy can email circ@ledgertranscript.com.