Portions of Pittsfield Township had electric before the creation of our current rural electric system. The first electric in our township was supplied by LaGrange. On July 20, 1920 our local news columnist reported that wires were being strung from Pittsfield to LaGrange and the transformer would soon be in place. It would appear that only those residences along Route 303 were serviced, along with the Center.

In September 1935, the Lorain County Farm Bureau Association held a meeting at the LaGrange Town Hall, attended by 48 local farmers, to form a planning committee to discuss the possibility of providing electrical power to our rural area. This committee was the beginning of what became our Lorain-Medina Rural Electric. Our township's representative on this committee was Roscoe Campbell.

I could write a lengthy article on the progress that transpired over the next few years in establishing and completing the project, but I'll defer that to a later date. Pittsfield Center is all lighted up. The township trustees have erected seven street or village lights, across the road, and in the park. It is a very fine move and one to be appreciated by all who use the Town Hall, churches, garage and park. (Wellington Enterprise 2-10-1955)

PITTSFIELD GAME PROTECTION ASSOCIATION
Allen E. Nash did much for wildlife in Pittsfield by helping to organize and put across the Pittsfield Game Protection Association. Louis Watkins and John West cooperated with him and started a movement which is very beneficial to the farmers of the area. Wildlife protection , reforestation, follow hand in hand to keep and increase our natural resources. (Wellington Enterprise 8-29-1946)




ED HINKLEY
One of the most contented men in Pittsfield is Ed Hinkley. He lives in a cabin all alone and does his own cooking, and other housework. He is very fond of bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee and believe it or not, he can make a stack of cakes, that go very well with pork sausage and maple syrup. In the summer time, he raises a good garden and saves plenty of dry beans for winter use. By the way, Mrs. E.R. McConnell sometimes helps Ed out in his menu by furnishing him a few extra dishes of food. Yes, indeed, she gets early peas, lettuce, and radishes from his famous garden. Ed Hinkley's little cabin was located on the west side of SR58, just north of the Ed McConnell Homestead. (Wellington Enterprise 10-3-1946)






LOCKED HERSELF IN THE HOUSE
Elizabeth Ann McConnell (Betty Hurst) is in trouble again!!! She was two years old at the time. Her mother went to see husband Joe, and Betty hooked the screen and then turned the key in the lock. Her mother had to borrow a ladder of some painters and climb into a window. Betty can't see yet why she should be scolded. (Wellington Enterprise 10-3-1946)



NEW FAMILIES IN TOWN
Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Broud and family are now nicely located in their new home on West road across from John Caley's. They enjoy company. The Brouds all came from Seneca County, sometimes designated as the original Garden of Eden.
Mr. and Mrs. A,W. Couch, Wilson, Robert and Virginia are moving from Kipton to the house vacated by the Wesley Pitts family on Whitney road. Mr Couch is educational director of the Lorain County Farm Bureau. Virginia, their daughter is a graduate of the Kipton High School Class of 1946, and is working in Kipton. Wilson will be a Wellington high school senior, while Robert will be a junior. (Wellington Enterprise 9-12-1946)



2000 PINE TREES PLANTED
Jack Kennedy, who lives on the corner of Hawley and Hughes roads, has a farm with a pond on it. Recently Jack planted 2,000 pine trees, locust and hard maple trees which will need attention badly this coming summer. Jack is on the Oberlin College faculty and is planning to go to Europe this next year. He also has a fine acquaintance with Harold Brandt, Boy Scout Explorer Guide and Forester. Allen Knapp, LeRoy Jordan and Jack Krueger of his Explorer Scout group have promised to care for the little forest in Jack's absence. They will be helped by other boys working for badges in conservation. As a result of this, Mr. Kennedy allows the boys to fish and camp on his farm. It s a great opportunity for the boys to have a permanent campsite. The trees are planted seven feet apart, and are growing nicely.(Wellington Enterprise 2-3-1955)

A PERSONAL HISTORY

I've always had an interest in old cemeteries, probably because I would visit our local cemeteries with my grandmothers, when they would place flowers on the family graves. This particular article is about a family outing I took with my son a number of years ago. A family experience that prompted me to begin our recent cemetery restoration project in our local cemeteries.
The article is a little more personal than I usually write, but I hope you will allow me to share it with you, as most of you will probably agree, our personal lives influence our community life and our community history.
When my son was a junior at Baldwin-Wallace College, he was already thinking about graduate school. During his spring break that year he had made plans to visit some prospective graduate schools. He asked ol'dad to go along to help with the driving, provide moral support, and pay the bills.
So on a Saturday morning we packed the car and headed east for Yale University, in New Haven, and Brown University in Providence. His appointments were not until Monday and Tuesday, but we wanted to leave enough travel time.
I believe how sometimes things just happen and afterward you wonder why? Is it some type of predestination that brings us to a certain place or occurrence in our lives when unexpected things happen. This weekend trip turned out to be one of those times.
That first day of driving brought us in the evening hours to Danbury, Connecticut, where we soon found a motel and settled in for the night. With my interest in my family genealogy, I always knew that my family originally came from Connecticut. It was my understanding that they came from Fairfield, which is located down on the coast.
Since we had all day Sunday to cover the rest of the way to our destination, I thought we'd take the scenic route down along the coast and see what Fairfield was like. That night as I was planning the best route to proceed south, I happened to glance at the map north of Danbury, where a little crossroads town named New Fairfield for some unknown reason caught my eye. About this same time I also glanced over at the nightstand next to the bed and noticed the local telephone book.
I reached for the book to see if any Hayes families were listed. While I was thumbing through it, I saw a local map of the area. Upon examining the map around this little town of New Fairfield, I found some road names and locations that are found in the early records from my family genealogy. All of a sudden I decided that instead of going south on Sunday, we'd head north for this little town of New Fairfield. After all, it was only ten or so miles up the road and we had time.
The next morning it didn't take long to get there. As we turned off the main highway, believe it or not we were on Hayes road. New Fairfield wasn't much of a town. No old downtown remained, just a modern gas station on one corner of the intersection and a small shopping plaza on another corner. There was also a small New England town hall, a library and the local post office.
We pulled into the shopping plaza and I went into the grocery store in hopes of finding some film for my camera. As I was checking out to pay for the film, I asked the cashier if she could tell me where the Methodist Church was located. I knew my ancestors were Methodist. I told her I thought my ancestors were from this area and they might be buried in the local cemetery. She told me the church was located north of town, but added that she didn't think there was a cemetery.
Now you can call it a coincidence if you like, but just at that time in our conversation the woman standing behind me stated that she might be able to help me out. She introduced herself as the president of the local historical society. She then proceeded to explain to me that, yes there was an old abandoned cemetery located across the road from the Methodist Church. It was pretty overgrown with weeds and brush, but she thought some of the headstones were still there.
We then proceeded further north on the road she indicated that led to the Methodist Church. As we drove up that sometimes winding, hilly road, I couldn't help but think of my Grandma Hayes. She aroused my early interest in our family history by telling me about the ancestors she remembered, and stories she heard them tell. Grandma Hayes was also a devout and firmly religious person who believed that when we went to heaven, we would be reunited with our ancestors and loved ones. She died some years ago, but somehow I felt she was looking down and guiding us up this road. Somehow she might be responsible for the strange occurrences that had brought us to this point on this absolutely beautiful Sunday morning.
Sure enough we soon arrived at the Methodist Church, and there located across the road, was an old abandoned family cemetery, that the woman had described. We hurriedly parked the car in the church parking lot and opened the rusty old iron gate at the entrance of the cemetery. My son took one side of the cemetery, and I the other, both of us groping for that recognizable name on the headstones. With headstones more than 100 years older than the earliest ones in our cemeteries around here, the names were terribly difficult to distinguish.
We spent what seemed like hours searching through that cemetery, but with no luck. We were about to give up, as our available time was running out. Then I spotted two headstones near the front of the cemetery, which I had previously overlooked. One of the stones was leaning almost to the ground, but the other was standing straight and tall. The name HAYES was clearly visible on the front of the stone. We had found what we were looking for.
As my son and I stood together over the graves of his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather and mother, I believe we both experienced a closeness and bonding which we will never forget.
I later learned in my research of my family in New Fairfield that the cemetery is located on the Hayes homestead. It was, and hopefully still is, our family cemetery.
By the way, my son eventually got his graduate degree at William & Mary College in Williamsburg, Virginia, with a Masters Degree in American History. (I guess “The apple doesn't fall far from the tree”.)