I'm adding this post from my aunt's writings that I have on here, but now all three are together so that they may be viewed all in one setting......
.....One evening after a church meeting, a few of us gathered around to chat, when the subject of Above all was brought up, and Woody Rahm, who knows Warren pretty well, was teasing me about being born there. He went on to say that he thought Marge Regner and I were two of the oldest natives still in Warren, and that we were here when the Indians were. But his jest did bring back memories, and little did he know that we were here before them....
One evening while I was doing my homework, under a 30 watt electric bulb, some men came to the door, and my father then ushered in fifteen men who said they were from an Indian tribe in Canada, with questions to ask him. They said they were from three tribal chiefs among them, they had left three big touring cars parked down by the barn. they were all in business suites except for one very old, thin, bronzed-looking man with straggly white hair and with deep wrinkles in his face, who was wearing a leather outfit.
They had heard of my father, who at the time was in charge of seven state parks, knew a great deal about the people and the land around Lake Waramaug. They must have talked for over an hour. the old fellow seemed to be concentrating on something in his hands that we could not see. Then he looked at me and said something. As I could not understand what he said, my father told me to go to him. I was a little skeptical, but knew my father would protect me. The old Indian chief showed me an emerald bracelet he had been working on, and took my hand to put it on my wrist. It was so beautiful and I really wanted it, but unfortunately my wrist was too large. I wanted to keep it anyway, but he put it in pocket or pouch and pulled another out, which was no where near as pretty. it was two copper wires twisted together with pretty stone here and there, pink, amber, lavender, orange, each set far apart. I accepted it and thanked him very much for the kindness.
My father told me later that the old chief wanted to take me back to his tribe, as he thought I would make some Indian a nice chubby squaw. [ I never knew if that was true or if my father was joshing me.]
They thought that my father knew of some land that was left by the tribe at Waramaug. The only way my father was able to help them was to finally say that theu might be able to find some information in the Litchfield town records. They left [peacefully] to their automobiles. It really gave us something to think about.
I still have the bracelet somewhere in my memoirs.
Connie Strong Verbowens
