Paugwonk Day! This Saturday, October 13th, 2012 – Salem, CT (Rain or Shine)
In the morning, it’s “Flick the Tick!”, a new 5K cross-country race to support Lyme Disease research. And in the afternoon, it’s a Historical Celebration, a special gathering of Revolutionary War reenactors, colonial vendors, music, demonstrations, carriage rides, and much, much more.
In the morning, it’s “Flick the Tick!”, a new 5K cross-country race to support Lyme Disease research. (Yup, the poster says five miles. We changed it. It’s better this way). And in the afternoon, it’s a Historical Celebration, a special gathering of Revolutionary War reenactors, colonial vendors, music, demonstrations, carriage rides, and much, much more.
2. Race-day registration is available. Registration begins at 7:30am at the Farm. During registration, the Mohegan Union of Nations drummers will perform and there will be a special blessing of the Farm ceremony by Mohegan Tribal Elder Charlie “Two Bears” Strickland.
5. Thank you to all our sponsors so far: Shagbark Lumber, Kahn Tractor, andSalem Valley Ice Cream. The more sponsors who help us make Flick the Tick! a success, the greater the donation to the Lyme Disease Association! If your business would like to help sponsor the race, please contact Joe at email@example.com. All sponsors will appear on a large “thank you!” banner posted at the start/finish line.
6. All runners receive free admission to the Historical Celebration!
And in the afternoon, it’s…
A Historical Celebration!
1. General admission to Paugwonk Day is just $5 per adult, $3 per child ages 6-12, and under 6 is free.
3. At 2pm, registration begins for the Great Treasure Hill Farm Horseshoe Throwing Contest. Teams of two will compete for a Grand Prize, bracket-style. The contest begins at 2:30pm.
3. Throughout the afternoon, carriage rides across the Farm property will be available by Mr. David Wordell and the halflingers of Olde Ransom Farm.
4. Also throughout the afternoon, the Salem Public Library will be offering the opportunity for residents young and old to record their personal stories of living in Salem. These recorded histories will join the Voices of Salem Oral History Project and be archived at the Library.
5. A full list of the vendors, exhibitors, activities, and the day’s schedule of events may be found at TreasureHillFarm.com.
So why Flick the Tick?
My brother told me how, earlier that evening, he’d walked about half a block toward the subway before the Lyme manifested as vertigo. Then it felt as if his heart stopped and he collapsed on 6th Avenue beside leaking black garbage bags, stacked five high and steamed by the heat of the street grates. Unable to stand, a stranger helped him slump into a cab. The cab to Brooklyn cost $40. It was Thursday. The same thing had happened on Tuesday. Such are the hidden costs and indignities of Lyme Disease.
Let’s do the IV before the food arrives, he said. I’d driven in from Connecticut, our other brother was on his way down from the Upper West Side with Indian food. The gauze wrapped around Marc’s arm was stiff with iodine and dried blood. Don’t worry, he said, the cannula is clean. What the hell is a cannula, I asked. This, he said, pinching the plastic dongle hanging out of his vein.
His skin was dry and crinkled like tissue paper. He hooked up the line and adjusted the drip. We sat on the couch in front of the Xbox. In our twenties, we played Halo, online and a lot of it, when he lived in California and I in Connecticut. It was how we talked, for free, while splattering each other across the universe. Now in our thirties, we sat in silence, side by side on his couch, half-assedly picking up weapons and dropping them. I didn’t want to shoot at him. What I wanted, desperately, was the color to return to his skin.
Frankie arrived with the food. Marc pulled on the IV pole to help himself stand and he rolled it over the table. As we ate, we talked about the Farm and the challenges of its construction. Marc had designed the building, but his weekend trips to Salem to oversee the project were getting rarer–blacking out on the sidewalk was one thing, blacking out behind the wheel on I-95 quite another.
We cleared away the cartons and spread a copy of the blueprint across the table. The weather the previous winter had set us back a few months, but we were pleased with the progress that summer. The barn was nearly finished. We discussed the design of the lockers and the wall in the indoor arena. Those last few months, the details consumed us.
Marc had always been the athletic one–the tallest, the most coordinated, a star pitcher on the Gardner Lake Little League team. My shining moment on Round Hill Road was a solitary excuse-me triple because the right fielder was sitting on his glove. What I was, was the eldest. It was my job to protect him, protect them both. Watching Marc sit, exhausted, in a white t-shirt, skin like parchment and his eyes tired, I felt like I’d failed him, that when he first started getting sick years ago I should have insisted it was Lyme Disease. I mean, Christ, we went to East Lyme High School–Lyme itself sprang from our woods, our fields, our trails and yards. Of anywhere in the nation, we probably knew the most about ticks and red rings and the fallacies and mysteries of its diagnosis.
The bag of Doxycycline was empty. Marc unhooked the rig and scattered its components on the table. Screw Lyme, he said, defiant rather than angry. I knew the look on his face. I’d seen it in our backyard, I’d seen it at the baseball fields, I’d seen it on Lake Pattagansett with an oar in his hand, and I’d seen it on the golf course. I knew better than anyone when Marc was about to win.
Two months later, after an aggressive course of IV treatment, my brother beat his Lyme Disease into remission. Now, it’s time to help others do the same. It’s time to Flick the Tick.
All proceeds from Flick the Tick! will be donated to the Lyme Disease Association. Together, let’s make Lyme Disease history.