Judy Stetson

I was born on January 30, 1937 at the Faulkner Hospital in Boston, three minutes after my twin brother, John Sebastian Grace, was born.

I first came to Woods Hole in August of 1938 on my way to Naushon where my parents had rented Pony Pasture, one of the houses overlooking Lackeys Bay. One family story is that on the day of the '38 Hurricane, we twins were having naps on the dock when someone noticed the water rising rapidly and rescued us.

I next came to Woods Hole on Labor Day weekend of 1959 with my best friend and third cousin, Marti Fuller, a niece of George Clarke, to tour Jacques Cousteau's Calypso. Marti knew that Cousteau was holding an open house on Calypso at the WHOI dock. I had read Cousteau's "Le Monde du Silence" with great excitement and pleasure and was delighted to meet the author. Afterwards, Marti suggested finding her cousin, David Clarke, who was swimming off his friend's boat at Nobska beach. Tom Stetson and David Clarke swam in, crossed the beach and welcomed us into their day. The day continued on into supper at the barn in back of the Director's house where David and Mary Clarke were living. Tom and I were married on October 8, 1960. He installed me in his house at 88 Oyster Pond Road and went off to sea for a few weeks. That fall I cast an absentee ballot in Cambridge, my first vote in a U.S. presidential election and my last vote outside of Falmouth.

I had earned a Master of Arts in Teaching and become a certified teacher for grades 7-12, graduating from the Harvard Graduate School of Education in June of 1960. When I applied for a teaching position in Falmouth, Superintendent Harry Merson kindly showed me the only classroom he had available, it was for 7th graders and would meet in the male teachers' dining room next to the cafeteria and kitchen in the Lawrence School. Very noisy. I told Mr. Merson that the Old Rochester Regional high school had offered me my own 7th grade classroom and I thought I would accept that offer. He smiled kindly, said it was a very long way to drive to that school, and would I like to have a 4th grade classroom of my own in East Falmouth? "But I have no experience or training in 4th grade teaching," I objected. "Never mind, there are perfectly good lessons on how to teach the subjects in the back of the text books," he responded. I had one very good year teaching in East Falmouth. School schedules allowed for cranberry harvesting. When a "wing" came in to Otis Air Force Base, my class expanded from 28 to 36 and we learned new songs, stories and dances from children whose fathers had been posted to faraway bases like the Philippines. I loved the kids and the school.

And then Tom and I started our family. Chris was born on May 28, 1963, the very day that the Falmouth Hospital opened. Tom's good friend, Robert Bacon, came by on the evening of the 27th and told us that although the hospital was opening on the 28th, it would not be ready to catch a baby that day. Later that same evening, Dr. Murray Pendleton told us the baby was coming, and that it had dark hair! Off we went to Tobey Hospital in Wareham. Virginia was born at Falmouth Hospital on December 19, 1964. She is named for my aunt, Virginia Grace, a professional archeologist who lived in Athens, worked all over Greece, and was admired and loved by all her nieces and nephews.

Sure that our two children would grow bigger, and probably noisier, and not sure whether there would be more children, Tom and I sold our house to the Millimans and bought a "summer cottage" on Quissett Ave. in 1968. It had no heat, very primitive electric wiring, but luckily its plumbing went along inside walls rather than outside walls where the pipes would freeze unless drained every fall. It also had no real cellar, just a small area under the kitchen with dry-laid stone walls. The rest of the huge house was supported on five concentric rings of locust posts. We were the first year-round residents, and we learned that in winter gales the whole house swayed like some stately galleon on ocean swells. The men who put in a cellar for us said encouragingly that the new concrete posts would last about 100 years, the same length of time that locust posts last. We think the house was built in 1895, or possibly 1905. It is big, happy, informal, and somewhat shaggy as to shingles and interior decoration.

My connection to Woods Hole is originally through my husband, Tom Stetson, a physical oceanographer with the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, as was his father, Henry C. Stetson, before him. Henry was an original member of WHOI's staff and Tom spent all his childhood summers in Woods Hole. My connections with Falmouth and Woods Hole have grown deep roots and waving branches over the years. I have made many friends and taken part in many projects. At the town government level, I have served on the Finance Committee, Conservation Commission, Local Comprehensive Planning Committee, and Precinct 1 Town Meeting Representative. I am most proud of my connection with the founding and early years of VIPS, the Volunteers in Public Schools program that Peter Clark started when he was the principal of the high school. All of these projects came about through my first and favorite local organization, the League of Women Voters of Falmouth. League members were my first friends in a town where I knew nobody and my husband was often at sea for weeks. They were my first mentors in how to be a grownup, how to be a wife and housewife and mother. And how to take part in a surprisingly open town. Back in Cambridge, there were waiting lists to be on LWV committees. Here, I was invited to be on the board itself after one year! Back in Cambridge, it was hard to be heard in political halls. Here your voice was welcomed, if not always heeded. My mother's friends used to ask her what I found to do in Falmouth in the winter, mend lobster pots? After the first year, they said, "Stop, stop, we don't want to hear any more about all those things she is up to!"

Connections to Woods Hole: after my initial connection through Tom to WHOI, comes my great friendship with Mary Lou Smith. She led me, as so many others, into refurbishing the Bradley House, helping to research, write and edit "Woods Hole Reflections," "The Book of Falmouth" and Spritsail. She was a visionary who could inspire us all to share her visions and help bring them to reality. Red and Mary Wright were also great friends and mentors. And there were many others.

I'll end with sports: swimming and sailing and rowing, of course. But also windsurfing. With my dog, Amica, who learned to arch her back downward when I said, "Ready About." And canoeing. We created the Goux Roux Canoe Crew and spent several years exploring rivers in the summer and feasting in the winter. Susan Goux told us she had moved to the seashore with Tom, was afraid of boats, and was determined to start her boating in a canoe surrounded by her friends. And just like that we formed an outing club. What fun! Now, of course, my sport is Platform Tennis (PT). PT all year round, PT where the Starr Building is now, with the winter spray from Great Harbor tapping on your back, PT between the MBL tennis courts and the vernal pool at Devil's Circle, with balls vanishing in the depths, wintertime PT at the Woods Hole Golf Course, and PT feasts whenever possible. It is a wonderful game: fast, competitive, raucous, and we are always ready to welcome new players. At the PT court we have planted two memorials to our friends: a tall and beautiful Stewartia in memory of Ginny Josephson, and a short, indomitable Rose of Sharon in memory of Barbara Little. And my PT friends have given a lovely Franklinia to the Spohr Garden in memory of my mother, Priscilla Grace, who spent the last three years of her long life at the Royal Megansett in North Falmouth.