
Our View · Editorial
Our View: What the Room Got Right
We declined to tell the town what to think about the pasture. This week we report what it did instead, which was better than thinking. It listened.
Read the full story →
“Where the coffee’s hot, the lakes are cold, and all the children are above average.” — Serving the Chain since 1897.
Tuesday, July 21, 2026 · July 21 Edition · 2 story item(s) in this section.

Our View · Editorial
We declined to tell the town what to think about the pasture. This week we report what it did instead, which was better than thinking. It listened.
Read the full story →
Letters to the Editor
A correspondent writes to say she will not be responding to last week’s letter, and takes four paragraphs to not do so. She closes with a horticultural report.
Read the full story →Correction. We reported last week that the extra chairs at the city hall numbered forty. A reader who counted reports forty-one. In this town, of course it was forty-one. We regret the error and are no longer surprised by the number.
Amplification. The winning tournament bag weighed nineteen pounds, four ounces — not nineteen-three, as the landing chalkboard briefly had it. The ounce belongs to the fish, and the fish, released, took it with them.
Corrections remain rare, and cheerfully entertained.
Selected from the bound volumes in the front room of the old creamery, where the past is kept in order of weight.
25 years ago — July 2001. The first Loon Lake Bass Tournament drew eleven boats and one argument — whether a pound of smallmouth should count the same as a pound of largemouth — which began at the weigh-in and, the record shows, has not concluded. This year it reversed direction (see Sports), which the founders would recognize as the same argument in its Sunday clothes.
50 years ago — July 1976. The sweet corn came in on July 19, the earliest anyone could remember, and the paper’s advice then was printed in full: “Butter, salt, and silence.” The advice stands. The corn, this year, is close (see Eunice).
75 years ago — July 1951. Lightning struck the water tower during a July storm. The tower, this paper reported at the time, “took it personally but stood,” and the town gathered the next morning to look up at it approvingly. The tower stands yet, and now spends its summers being the landmark by which the whole Chain judges the volume of band camp.