2 The Berry Post
Published by:
Debbie Barry
2500 Mann Road, #248
Clarkston, Michigan 48346
USA
Copyright © 2013 by Deborah K. Barry. All
rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted
by any means without the written permission
of the author.
ISBN-13: 978-1490418575
ISBN-10: 1490418571
The Berry Post 3
The Berry Post
This is a story about my
grandmother, Zoa Townsend Fletcher,
as I heard it from her when I was a
little girl. Grandma Fletcher was a
great storyteller. She loved to tell
the stories of her own adventures to
her children and grandchildren. The
story of the berry post with its
related anecdotes was a great
favorite with all of her children and
grandchildren, and it was told over
and over again. My grandmother told
it to her children, and one of her
children grew up to be my Daddy, and
The Berry Post 5
The Berry Post
Zoa Townsend lived in the
mountains in the middle of Vermont as
the 19th century was rolling over into
the new 20th century. Her name
wasn’t Zoa when she was a little girl;
6 The Berry Post
it was Azubah. That’s another story
for another time, but we will call her
Azubah because that was her name
when this story took place.
Azubah lived with her Pa, her
Ma, her brother, and her three
sisters on a prosperous farm in
Ninevah. Ninevah is a very small
community that is nestled among the
Green Mountains of Vermont, and it
was still a very rural place when
Azubah lived there. In fact, it was
not too much different from the way
it had been for a century or so before
that. Pa and Ma were Moses and Mary
Townsend, and their children, from
eldest to youngest, were: Bessie,
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John, Maggie, Azubah, and little
Mary.
Every year or so, on the farm in
Ninevah, Pa would purposely burn all
the grass and brush from a part of
one of the fields. He did this so
there would be no weeds or brush to
choke the blueberry bushes so the
field would yield more blueberries.
The blueberry field was behind
some trees, and it could not be seen
from the house. As a result, people
often stole blueberries, picking all
they wanted while no one was looking.
That was bad for Azubah’s family
because they sold most of the
blueberry harvest for money to help
support the farm. Pa put up paper
8 The Berry Post
poster signs saying "NO
TRESPASSING," but the berry
thieves did not care about the signs.
The thieves tore down the paper signs
and went right on picking the
blueberries.
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Frustrated that the paper signs
were not enough to stop people from
stealing his blueberries, Pa went into
Ludlow, which was the nearest town of
any size. He had "NO
TRESPASSING” signs printed on
cloth that would be much harder to
tear down than the paper signs had
been. Azubah and her brother and
sisters helped Pa nail the signs to the
trees around the field, especially
along the road.
One sunny, summer morning,
the blueberries were just right to
pick. Pa and Ma would bring the
children and the hired men to pick the
berries after the animals were
tended, but Ma sent Azubah to the
10 The Berry Post
field bright and early to check for
berry thieves. “Zewy, “ Ma said –
Azubah’s family called her Zewy – “go
on down to the berry field. I expect
lots of folks’ll come to steal the
berries this fine day.” Ma thought
the thieves would be picking the
berries as soon as the sun was up, and
she was right!
Azubah walked down to the
berry field. Sure enough, there were
people among the berry bushes,
picking the ripe, juicy fruit. Azubah
saw that the thieves had torn down
the cloth signs, just as they had
always torn down the paper signs.
Some of the thieves glanced up when
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Azubah arrived, but they all went on
picking.
“Hey, there!” Azubah shouted
as she emerged from the woods and
saw the thieves. “This is my Pa’s
berry field. All you folks get on out
of here!”
Some of the people picking the
blueberries looked up. A few laughed.
“We don’t have to go
anywhere!” one man exclaimed.
“Your land ain’t posted!” a
woman added, continuing to pick.
Azubah was angry. This was
her family’s berry field, and her Pa
worked hard to make it produce as
many berries as it could. Her family
12 The Berry Post
was counting on the income from
these berries.
“We posted this land!” Azubah
cried. “You thieves tore down our
signs!”
The berry thieves just laughed
again.
Fully frustrated, Azubah
decided to take a stand. “Fine, you
tore down our signs,” she said. “Well,
then, I’m the post! You all just get
out of here!”
The people were surprised, but
they knew that Azubah was right and
they were wrong. They all got up to
leave.
“You leave those berries, too!”
Azubah shouted. “Pa’ll get the law if
The Berry Post 13
you steal those while I’m standing
right here!”
There was a great deal of
grumbling, but the berry thieves set
down their pails and baskets and
walked away. Azubah gathered the
pails and baskets of luscious, ripe
berries. When Pa and the hired men
arrived with the wagon and the
baskets for harvesting the berries,
Azubah poured the berries gently into
her family’s own baskets. She put the
thieves’ baskets and pails in a pile
outside the berry field where their
owners could retrieve them; Azubah
was an honest girl, and she would not
steal the baskets and pails from the
14 The Berry Post
men and women who had been stealing
berries from her family.
Azubah was a very fast berry
picker. Once she had put the almost-
stolen berries in the bushel baskets
and had put the pails and baskets
outside the field, she took an empty
milk pail and started picking berries.
Soon, Ma and the other children
arrived to help with the picking. Even
little Mary helped pick berries under
The Berry Post 15
Bessie’s watchful gaze. Azubah filled
three large milk pails with berries all
on her own. The pails of berries were
too heavy for Azubah to carry them,
so one of the hired men took them
and poured the berries into a bushel
basket on the wagon at the edge of
the field. Azubah’s three pails of
berries filled an entire bushel basket!
A bushel basket holds 32 quarts,
which is a lot of berries!
By evening, all of the
blueberries had been picked. Pa
drove the wagon back to the house
and all of the berries were placed in
the cellar to keep them cool and dry
overnight. Early the next morning,
Azubah and her sisters helped Ma
16 The Berry Post
divide the berries into quart baskets
that were woven from very thin strips
of wood. Once they were sorted, Pa
and John loaded the many baskets
into the wagon.
“Azubah,” Ma said, using
Azubah’s real name instead of calling
her Zewy, as usual, “you’re big enough
this year to take the berry route all
by yourself.”
Azubah was very pleased and
proud to be old enough to go alone.
“Yes, Ma,” she replied dutifully.
“Take a notebook, Zewy,” Pa
said, walking into the kitchen, “and a
sharp pencil. I want you to write
down all the names of the people who
buy your berries. Mind you keep close
The Berry Post 17
track of the money they give you,
too.”
“Yes, Pa,” Azubah said, taking a
small, paper-covered notebook from
the shelf of school books near the
back door and getting a wooden pencil
with a dark lead from a drawer.
Azubah went out to the wagon.
Pa had already hitched up the horse
for her. She climbed into the seat,
placing the notebook, the pencil, and a
small, drawstring bag in the pocket of
her skirt. Remembering what John
had taught her that spring, she got
the horse moving and drove the wagon
out of the yard.
Azubah drove slowly along the
road that ran from Hortonville to
18 The Berry Post
Mount Holly. She stopped at each
house she came to, and at each house
she sold several baskets of sweet,
ripe blueberries. As each person paid
her, she placed the coins carefully in
the bag that she kept in her pocket,
and then dutifully wrote down the
name of the person and how many
quarts of berries each person bought.
As Azubah drove along, she
paused often, and she took the
opportunity of each stop to carefully
draw a map in her little notebook.
She drew each road on which she
traveled, and she carefully marked
each house at which she stopped.
Azubah loved to draw, and her
teacher had encouraged to draw
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detailed pictures with a pencil and a
ruler, so she very much enjoyed
adding details to her map. Many years
later, when she was married and her
husband was serving overseas in the
Army, Azubah would remember the
careful record keeping that she
practiced with the berries, and she
would use those skills to run her
husband’s lumber company in his
absence.
As Azubah drove along her
blueberry route, she came to the
home of one of her favorite
customers. The elderly woman was
Mrs. Baker, but many of the local
natives called her “Deef” Baker.
Azubah objected to this name,
20 The Berry Post
although she thought it might be
acceptable to call her Deaf Baker.
Mrs. Baker really was very nearly
deaf. She had a long, curved hearing
aid horn that she held in her ear for
others to talk into. Azubah thought
that the horn looked like an
instrument from Sousa’s band.
Mrs. Baker was sitting on a
chair outside her door, enjoying the
warm sunshine, when Azubah pulled
her wagon to a stop. A broad smile
split the old woman’s face. She called
out, “Ah, little Zewy! What brings you
so far from home?”
Azubah smiled and held out two
baskets of blueberries for Mrs. Baker
to see.
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“Ah!” Mrs. Baker exclaimed
with pleasure. “You’ve berries to sell,
have you?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Azubah shouted
into the hearing horn. She liked Mrs.
Baker, and she was used to the
unusual means of communication. She
thought Mrs. Baker was a most
delightful person, and Azubah enjoyed
talking to her immensely, and she
looked forward to her visits with the
old woman. She was also quite
fascinated by the hearing horn,
although she spoke of it directly.
Azubah and Mrs. Baker worked
out the price of a basket of berries,
using hand signs as well as the curious
horn. When they had done so, Azubah
22 The Berry Post
apologized for such a short visit,
explaining that she had many
customers to see, and then she went
on along her route.
Several weeks later, Ma called
Azubah into the kitchen. “So, you’re
the post, are you?” she asked.
Azubah was startled. She had
not told Ma about standing up to the
berry thieves. “Y-yes, Ma,” she
stammered slightly with surprise.
Ma laughed at Azubah’s
confusion. She told her daughter
that the berry thieves had thought
the story of the berry post that was
a young girl was very amusing, and one
of the women had told the story to
friends in Ludlow. The story had
The Berry Post 23
circulated through town, and Ma had
eventually heard of the adventure.
Ma was amused, and she was very
proud of her daughter’s courage.
Many years later, Azubah, who
was now Mrs. Fletcher, told the story
of the berry post to some of her
closest friends at a bridge party in
her home. Her friends thought the
store was funny, too, and the women
laughed and laughed about the little
girl who was the berry post.
~*~
Now you know the story of how
Grandma Fletcher came to be the
berry post to protect her family’s
24 The Berry Post
blueberry crop. Grandma Fletcher
told this story to her children, and
one of those children grew up to be
my Daddy, and he told the story to
me. You can tell the story to your
children when you grow up, too.
The Berry Post 25
Debbie Barry and her husband
live in southeastern Michigan with
their two sons and their two cats.
The family enjoys exploring history
through French and Indian War re-
enactment and through medieval re-
enactment in the Society for Creative
Anachronism (SCA). Debbie grew up
in Vermont, where she heard and
collected many family stories that she
26 The Berry Post
enjoys retelling as historical fiction
for young audiences.
Debbie graduated summa cum
laude with a B.A. in dual majors of
social sciences with an education
concentration and of English in 2013.
The Berry Post 27
Also look for these titles by Debbie
Barry:
Books for Young
Learners:
Around the Color Wheel
Colors and Numbers
Stories for Children:
A Shattering Experience
Bobcat in the Pantry
Born in the Blizzard and
Freshet
Expressing the Trunk
Gramp’s Bear Story
Meeting with Wolves
When Mary Fell Down the Well
Writing Competition
Biographical Fiction:
The Wrong Race
28 The Berry Post
Wood Alcohol in Carmel
History and Genealogy:
Family History of Deborah K.
Fletcher
Grandma Fletcher’s Scrapbooks
Nana’s Stories
Property Deeds and other Legal
Documents of the Fletcher and
Townsend Families
Property Deeds and other Legal
Documents of the Fletcher and
Townsend Families, 2nd Edition
with Digital Scans
The Red Notebook
The Red Notebook, 2nd Edition
with Digital Scans
Zoa Fletcher’s Photos
Zoa Has Her Way
Debbie’s Art:
Debbie’s Vision in Art, Volumes
1-4
The Berry Post 29
Debbie’s Vision in Art (Hard
cover, published by Blurb)
The Heart’s Vision
The Heart’s Vision in Color
Other Topics:
A Journey Through My College
Papers: Undergraduate Series
Advantages of Brain-Based
Learning Environments
African Americans in Post-Civil
War America
American Students Are
Crippled By Cultural Diversity
Education
Analyzing The Yellow Wallpaper
A Personal Philosophy of
Education
Debbie’s Writing
Examining Gender in A Doll
House
Identity Within and Without
Indifferent Universe
Loss
More Than Just Monogamy
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