Category: Concord Bridge

  • Honored Citizen Pete Funkhouser’s legacy of recreation, rehabilitation

    Elmer “Pete” Funkhouser has spent more than three decades shaping civic life in Concord with projects including a swim center and a restorative justice program. On March 29, the town will celebrate that work when it applauds him as Concord’s Honored Citizen, its townsperson of the year.

    “Townsperson of the year is actually long overdue,” said Elizabeth Railsback, a former treasurer of Concord-Carlisle Pools who worked alongside Funkhouser to bring the Beede Swim and Fitness Center into being about 20 years ago.

    Funkhouser, 84, returned to Concord in 1997 after a career in international business. He has since devoted himself to civic life in the town where he grew up. 

    “I wanted to use my time for something other than business,” Funkhouser said, “something for the obvious good of society.”

    Elmer “Pete” Funkhouser is taking his place among an elite cohort of Concordians. Photo: Dakota Antelman/The Concord Bridge.

    His work has included serving on the Concord Finance Committee, volunteering as a board member at Louisa May Alcott’s Orchard House, helping establish Communities for Restorative Justice (C4RJ), a non-profit offering alternatives to the traditional criminal justice system, and working on the advisory committee for Minute Man Arc, which supports people with learning disabilities.

    Recently Funkhouser served on the Concord250 Trees Project board, an initiative to plant 250 trees in honor of the 250th anniversary of the Battles of Lexington and Concord, creating a living memorial rather than a traditional statue.

    But the Beede Center remains his most visible contribution. 

    Funkhouser points out his name on a plaque in the Beede Swim and Fitness Center. Photo: Trace Salzbrenner/Concord Bridge.

    ‘He was everywhere’

    In 2000, community leaders established Concord-Carlisle Pools as a non-profit to raise money for the project. Funkhouser served as president, overseeing a volunteer board with committees dedicated to fundraising, finance, and planning.

    “He was tireless; he was everywhere,” Railsback said, noting Funkhouser’s “remarkable leadership skills.”

    The group met monthly for six years, ultimately raising more than $11 million through private donations, community events, and major gifts.

    Once construction was completed in 2006, Concord-Carlisle Pools donated the building to the town of Concord, which operates the center through the Recreation Department.

    Funkhouser said the project’s success is best measured in the everyday activity that fills the building. “The results are pretty evident here,” he said.

    A typical day at the Beede, Funkhouser said, includes 6-month-olds in a pool for the first time and seniors doing physical therapy. 

    Funkhouser talks with Jodie Surprenant, a Beede customer support specialist. Photo: Trace Salzbrenner/Concord Bridge.

    Now 20 years old, the center features a yoga studio, cardio and weight training rooms, and an eight-lane competition pool flanked by a diving well, therapy pool, and children’s splash area. It is also home to the Concord-Carlisle High School swim team, which recently won its third consecutive girls state championship. 

    “Even after 20 years, I’m still in awe of what that committee accomplished,” Railsback said. 

    Another of Funkhouser’s significant contributions is C4RJ, which he helped found in the early 2000s. 

    The initiative began when residents Jean Bell and Joan Turner raised concerns that criminal justice emphasized punishment over rehabilitation. They approached Concord Police Chief Len Wetherbee with a restorative program for young offenders. Funkhouser quickly became involved, bringing leadership experience and a commitment to the community.

    ‘Accountability and repair’

    John Cratsley, a former judge who served alongside Funkhouser on the C4RJ board for nearly a decade, said the program offered a fundamentally different approach to justice.

    “It’s a police referral program where young people go through a totally different process than court,” he said. “They meet face to face with their victim. It creates a huge amount of accountability and repair.” 

    The program provides alternatives to formal criminal prosecution, allowing people who have committed minor offenses to participate in restorative programs. Participants meet with police officers, counselors, and community members to discuss the impact of their actions and work toward repairing harm.

    The approach emphasizes accountability, empathy, and reintegration into society. 

    Since its founding, C4RJ has expanded to more than 30 communities across Massachusetts. 

    Funkhouser has remained an active board member throughout, establishing performance metrics, advocating for funding, and guiding development.

    “He was very good at fundraising,” Cratsley said, “but he also helped build the board, finding people who believed in the mission and wanted to be involved.”

    Funkhouser looks out at the pool in the Beede Swim and Fitness Center. Photo: Trace Salzbrenner/Concord Bridge.

    Funkhouser remains driven by a desire to give back and stay engaged. 

    “I don’t have any one mission,” he said. “There just has to be something about a project that captures my imagination.”

    While some people dream of an idle retirement, Funkhouser leans a different way. 

    “You get bored stiff,” he said. “Being involved is a great way to stay active. You make a contribution to the community, and that’s important.”

  • One success at a time: Specialty court marks its first graduation

    Left to right, Assistant Clerk Carlos Rojas, Chief Probation Officer Kevin Meaney, Clerk Magistrate Ann Colicchio, Judge Maureen McManus, Presiding Judge Lynn Brendemuehl, Assistant District Attorney Jasmine Ortiz, Probation Officer Chris Chappell, Court Clinician Margaret Johnston, Bedford Police Detective Lt. Scott Jones, and Appellate Division Clerk Brien M. Cooper. Photo by Andrew Reed.

    Applause filled Courtroom Two at the Concord District Courthouse as supporters rose from wooden benches, congratulating the first graduate of the Concord Mental Health Recovery Court.

    Last month’s celebration was modest, with a sheet cake and paper streamers, but for a courthouse more accustomed to arraignments and sentencing, the mood looked decidedly bright.

    “We are very proud,” Judge Lynn Brendemuehl said, praising the resolve of the graduate, who declined to participate in an interview.

    Though relatively new to Concord District Court, mental health courts have operated statewide since 2007, when the first one was established at Boston Municipal Court. These voluntary, post-sentencing courts aim to address the needs of defendants suffering from mental illness and co-occurring substance abuse issues.

    The court connects eligible participants to community-based care, intensive supervision, and support services designed to reduce criminal behavior and bolster long-term stability.

    An important milestone

    Established in 2023, Concord’s mental health recovery session started with 12 participants. The February graduate is the only remaining member of that group — and, so far, the only one to complete the program.

    As people gathered outside the courtroom for cake, Chief Probation Officer Kevin Meaney said it was important for current participants to see the milestone. “These people have had a hard time growing up,” he said, “and never had anyone to understand them.”

    With eight people currently in the program, and a gathering of about 25 people in Courtroom Two, court officials said they were committed to the curriculum long term.

    “Mental health is difficult because you’re not solving the problem,” Meaney said. “We’re not curing them.”

    Instead, he said the court works to identify the behaviors that trigger a participant’s symptoms and steer them toward specialized treatment such as medication or counseling.

    A rigorous endeavor

    The program is demanding. Participants must adhere to strict supervision, attend regular court check-ins, and engage consistently with treatment providers. Concord’s early numbers reflect those challenges: Most people in the initial group did not complete the program.

    But the recent graduation demonstrates that change is possible.

    “This person came in with no job, really some trouble at home, and he’s now been employed and has a family of his own,” Meaney said. “They’ve really worked hard to have a complete 180 from the time they came in.”

    Mental health courts operate differently from traditional courtrooms. Proceedings tend to be conversational. Judges speak directly with participants about appointments, medication compliance, and recent challenges.

    The philosophy favors problem-solving over punishment. Defendants must voluntarily agree to heightened supervision in exchange for the opportunity to avoid traditional sentencing. The goal is to break the cycle of repeated low-level offenses linked to untreated mental illness.

    “We work very hard to meet them where they are. ‘What can we do? How can we help?’” said Eleanor Hertzberg, the graduate’s defense attorney. “That’s worked.”

    Success, Meaney said, depends heavily on how hard participants are willing to work. Even then, affording treatment can be a considerable obstacle. Costs can be prohibitive even for those with insurance.

    A judge’s encouragement

    As the ceremony ended, Brendemuehl told the remaining participants she looked forward to celebrating their graduations next. Completing the program, the judge said, does not mean the court’s commitment to their mental health is over. 

    Graduates don’t have to check in, but the court keeps its door open in case they run into trouble or need additional support.

    Concord’s program is too new to measure long-term recidivism outcomes, but statewide data suggest specialty courts contribute to reducing repeat offenses, according to reports released by the Massachusetts Department of Correction in 2024.

    The three-year reincarceration rate for people released in 2019 was about 26%, below the national average range of 27% to 39%. That was down from 29% the previous year, part of a broader decline in recidivism statewide.

    Even so, a February 2026 report from the Prison Policy Initiative characterized court-supervised mental health recovery programs as “disappointing forms of diversion,” citing narrow eligibility, inconsistent enforcement, and mixed evidence of reducing recidivism.

    The report argued that specialty courts often operate more as intensive supervision rather than genuine rehabilitation, with sanctions for non-compliance creating barriers to sustained recovery.

    Meaney said showing participants that support exists allows them to imagine a brighter future.

    “Once they finally surrendered to the fact that they have a problem and that there’s help available,” he said, it “just goes a long way.” 

  • For ‘Wicked’ author Gregory Maguire, there’s no place like Concord

    Gregory Maguire spends most days at home. His life is quiet, except for the many clocks that tick, toll, and chime throughout the house.

    Within these walls, his imagination spawned an empire.

    The author of “Wicked” has become one of the most famous writers in town after retelling “The Wizard of Oz” from the Witch of the West’s perspective three decades ago. The 2003 musical based on his story is the fourth-longest-running show on Broadway. Part one of the film version of ”Wicked” raked in $634 million at the box office and won two Oscars this year; part two arrives in November. He’s published more than 40 books, including his fifth “Oz” retelling, a prequel called “Elphie,” that came out last month — and now he’s working on a play.

    Yet in town, Maguire is just another face. He grabs coffee at Main Streets Market & Cafe, signs books at the Concord Bookshop, and works out of one of his makeshift offices in town.

    He’s lived here since 1994 but felt he’s always known Concord through reading children’s mystery books by Jane Langton in his youth. Langton lived in Lincoln, but her fantastical stories mostly take place here.

    “I wrote her a fan letter when I was in college,” said Maguire, who is 70. “And she said, ‘Well, if you’re ever in the area, come have lunch.’ And I wrote back and said, ‘I’ll be there in two weeks.’”

    The books introduced him to Concord writers Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau, who appear in Langton’s stories — which inspired him to reflect on the mysteries of the world.

    “That’s one of the great things that literature does and one of the reasons why I wanted to do it, too,” Maguire said.

    His literary journey

    Maguire grew up in an Irish-Catholic family in Albany, New York. His literary career started with the release of “The Lighting Time” in 1978, the year he earned a master’s in children’s literature from Simmons College.

    He lived in Cambridge near Harvard Square, where he continued authoring children’s books while working as a professor at Simmons. After teaching for eight years and completing his doctorate at Tufts University, he moved to London. He threw himself into writing fiction and returned to the United States for 10 weeks every year as a visiting author and gave talks to children. 

    “‘Wicked’ had not broken yet, as it were, and I was living in a state of what the British call ‘financial embarrassment,’ which means I didn’t have any money,” he said. 

    During those trips, he stayed with Betty Levin, a former professor who became a colleague and friend, at her farm in Lincoln. He dedicated “Wicked” to her when it was published in 1995. With two friends living in Concord, he wanted to be near them.

    “I grew to love being on this side of Route 128, and rather than in Jamaica Plain or in Cambridge,” he said. 

    He moved back to Concord and edited “Wicked.” Since then, he’s continued to write novels in town.

    With his success, he’s used his platform to amplify the arts in Concord.

    He served on the board of the Umbrella Arts Center until 2020 and has stayed involved after stepping down. 

    “He said, ‘I may be going off the board, but that doesn’t mean I’m not here for you. I’m here for conversations, for questions, to help in any way I can,’” said Eileen Williston, the center’s executive director. 

    He spoke last fall at the premiere of “Wicked” at O’Neil Cinemas in Littleton. Ellen McHale, who chairs the Umbrella board, recalls crowds lining up at the small theater. People who couldn’t get into the movie came with books in hand, hoping for Maguire’s autograph.

    ‘No diva’

    Maguire shares a studio in the center with his husband, painter Andy Newman. He comes often for theater performances, concerts, artist open studios, and more.

    “He’s doing everything to lift up this town that he lives in,” McHale said.

    At the Concord Bookshop, several racks hold dozens of signed copies of Maguire’s books. He stops by and signs copies regularly. 

    “There’s no diva, there’s no there’s no nervousness when he comes in,” owner Dawn Rennert said. “He’s just a good human that you like to spend time with.”

    A collector’s edition of “Wicked” caused a “huge spike” in sales at the bookstore when it was released in September. The store sold hundreds of copies, Rennert said.

    Maguire, who carries on Concord’s rich literary history, said he wishes some of the writers who inspired him could respond to emails.

    “In terms of getting advice,” Maguire laughed, “it’s inconvenient because most of them are dead, so they tend not to answer their emails.”

    Local luminaries

    He said he learned how to reflect on the world from past Concord authors, but the town’s literary community — which includes Doris Kearns Goodwin, Concord Bridge board member Alan Lightman, and Stona Fitch — is “alive and breathing.”

    Maguire hasn’t featured Concord in any stories yet but said he is open to the challenge. He also revealed he’s working on two projects: a memoir and a play.

    “I just thought, well, let’s try something different,” Maguire said. “There are things I want to talk about. …  I can’t think of a successful way to write it as a novel, so let me try something else.”

    The play will be called “Abide the World.” He wouldn’t offer details about the work, but the name, inspired by the last two lines in an Emily Dickinson poem, has stuck in Maguire’s mind for a long time.  

    He’s proud to claim he’s known as Concord’s cheery “doofus” with three nice kids, now adults. His years of raising children are over, and most days are now spent writing in the home he calls his sanctuary.

    Out in the community, he feels at ease. 

    “Everybody in Concord is pleasant and effective and has things they want to achieve,” Maguire said. “They go at it with energy and sometimes even abandon, and I just fit in with Concord’s sense of itself.”

  • Revolutionary spirit lives on in Patriots Day protests

    On a day dedicated to remembering a cataclysmic demonstration of throwing off oppressive rule, Patriots Day visitors to the North Bridge and surrounds followed in the footsteps of the town’s forebears with protests of their own. 

    READ FULL 250 COVERAGE HERE.

    While the demonstrations didn’t disrupt the formal commemoration of the start of the American Revolution, there was no dearth of signs with political slogans. Among the messages: a call to protect park rangers, stopping private jet expansion at Hanscom, and a general disdain for the current administration in Washington, D.C. 

    “The people are not being considered,” Caroll Lothrop, 72, said. 

    Lothrop arrived with Hands Off! Mobilize, a progressive group. “If they could throw out Milosevic and they could throw out the guy in Syria, we can do that too.”

    Another group, Concord Indivisible, carried round signs emblazoned with large crossed-out crowns and the motto, “No king then. No king now.”

    Photo by Gabriel Martins

    “Eight years ago, I would have come for the historical spectacle,” Christine Brown of Littleton said. “I love America, but now I’m fighting every hour. I’m fighting fascism to try to save America.”

    Shaw Yang, another Concord Indivisible protester, said he felt frustrated at the current state of democracy, and cited concerns about attacks on the press and universities. “No kings! Nothing! Hands off,” Yang yelled. “Otherwise, we will lose our democracy in our country.”

    Protesters marched closely behind the parade and mingled with the crowds in Monument Square. Some were challenged by eventgoers. One man told a group of people holding a large “Patriots stand up to tyrants” sign that they should “get thrown out of the country.”

    Photo by Gabriel Martins

    Pedestrians near the Concord Free Public Library heard appeals to join the opposition to the expansion of private jet hangar space at Hanscom Field.

    “It’s not an indie issue; it’s not local,” said Kati Winchell of Save Our Heritage, pointing to the project’s potential negative effects on treasured historical landmarks, such as Minute Man National Historical Park and Walden. “That is also why people from across the state have risen up and been galvanized to fight against it.”

    And in Monument Square, Concordians Chris Burrell and Sigmund Roos paraded the oversized effigies of Vladimir Putin puppeteering President Trump they spent 30 hours creating.

    “I’m just very worried about what’s going on in Washington,” Burrell, a lawyer, said. “This is in the spirit of what happened here 250 years ago.”

  • Marathoners from Concord share stories of pain and exhilaration

    Some say it takes one step at a time. Others dread the miles. Some are addicted to the feeling of crossing the finish line.

    Concordians will tell themselves many things on Marathon Monday as they push themselves to run the 26.2 miles from Hopkinton to Boston. 

    Twenty-seven Concord residents will run this year’s Boston Marathon on April 21. The Concord Bridge met with four of them to hear their stories. They include a 71-year-old outdoorsman, a clinical researcher overcoming an injury, and a married couple running together.

    The oldest marathoner

    Eugene Delsener has been running for more than 50 years. At 71 he’ll be the oldest Concordian in the 129th Boston marathon.

    Delsener, who began running at Syracuse University, was able to devote more time to his running after retiring from a long career in financial services. There was the odd turkey trot or 5K, but he didn’t start running long distance races until his mid-50s, when he ran a half-marathon in Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

    “At the end of the 13 miles, I was like, ‘That was fun,’” he said. “I felt pretty good. You know, it’s like, ‘Yeah, I could do more.’”

    Eugene Delsener after running the 2021 Chicago Marathon.
    Eugene Delsener after running the 2021 Chicago Marathon. Courtesy photo

    Since that half-marathon, Delsener has tested himself in other ways. He and his daughter ran the 2018 New York City Marathon. Then he hiked the Appalachian Trail over four years.

    Delsener, who is running to raise money for Massachusetts General Hospital, usually runs between 15 and 25 miles a week.

    “There’s something about going to that next level,” Delsener said. “It’s not that I have to hit a certain time. … I just want to be able to run the [26.2] miles, enjoy it, and finish it strong.”

    Delsener runs without headphones early in the morning when roads are quiet and dark. During those runs, his head is clear, focused on the next mile.

    “Being out there, whether I’m in the suburbs and I run into a wooded street, it just felt like it was very liberating,” Delsener said.

    Delsener ran in the Chicago Marathon on a hot day in 2021. He’s always wanted to run the Boston Marathon and compared his training leading up to Boston to his time on the Appalachian Trail.

    Delsener said he was surprised to hear he’s Concord’s oldest runner but isn’t preoccupied with that fact.

    “I did Kilimanjaro, hiked in Bhutan. I just got back from Patagonia,” Delsener said. “I’m usually one of the oldest on those teams … sometimes in the back of the pack, and then sometimes at the front of the pack.”

    Delsener’s family will cheer him on during race day. Though he’s looking forward to the big dinner they’ll have that night, he’s focused on finishing strong.

    “It’s no different than when I would do a 400-mile section of the Appalachian Trail,” he said. “Just like, OK, [one] step at a time, enjoy every day, and every day is an adventure.”

    Eline Laurent running one of her many races. Courtesy photo
    Eline Laurent running one of her many races. Courtesy photo

    Overcoming injury

    “If you are a runner,” Eline Laurent said, “you can’t escape that desire to one day run Boston and run a marathon.”

    Now, she’ll be running her fifth marathon — and her second in Boston.

    Laurent, a 24-year-old clinical research coordinator at Massachusetts General Hospital, hasn’t had an easy time training for this marathon. She tore her labrum and fractured her hip when she hit a pothole during a casual run after two half-marathons in consecutive weeks. She’s had to get in marathon shape quickly.

    “There was even a debate: Was I going to be able to run this year?” she said.

    Laurent worked closely with a doctor whose office was on the marathon course and asked whether she could run. After her appointments, she’d feel heartbroken as she drove home on the same course she’d run before.

    She will be leaving Massachusetts this fall to get her doctorate at the University of Washington after a lifetime in the state.. “This was just kind of like my goodbye to the city,” she said.

    Despite her frustrations, she kept working on her injury. She received four rounds of “incredibly painful” shockwave therapy. After her second session of that, she got cleared to take an easy run. 

    “I put on my shoes, and I went 8 miles,” Laurent said. “I was like, ‘Wait, OK, I can do this. It hurts, but I can do this.’”

    Eline Laurent wearing a giraffe onesie during a fundraising run for the Stepping Strong charity. Photo courtesy
    Eline Laurent wearing a giraffe onesie during a Stepping Strong fundraising run. Courtesy photo

    Only a few weeks ago, she got cleared to run the marathon. She’ll run as part of a team of charity runners with the Stepping Strong Center, which focuses on trauma care and recovery. 

    Last week she did her longest run since her injury — 24 miles, in a giraffe onesie — to raise money for her charity during a training run. She plans to wear a blue tutu in the Boston Marathon.

    Laurent has been running since she was a little girl. Maybe not in a sundress and sandals, as she did for the Thoreau Elementary Road Race, but she’s addicted to it.

    “No matter what marathon it is, what number it is, it’s just this, like, overwhelming sense of emotions,” she said. “It’s just this feeling that doesn’t get old.”

    Running all their lives

    There’s only one married Concord couple on the marathon entry list.

    Rosemary “Rory” and Robert Burns have run alongside each other for a long time. They grew up together outside of Philadelphia and watched each other run at different moments in their lives.

    “He came to watch me run Philly [the Philadelphia Marathon], and I see him at the end,” Rory said, “and he’s wearing a shirt that says ‘Running sucks’ on it.”

    They reconnected after they ran into each other in Kenmore Square after watching Game 4 of the 2004 World Series. Robert came down from Bowdoin College with a few friends to watch the game at a friend’s house in Newton. Rory was a freshman at Boston University watching the game in her dorm when Robert messaged her he was nearby. They started dating in 2007 after Robert moved to Boston.

    Rosemary "Rory" and Robert Burns preparing for a run.
    Rosemary “Rory” and Robert Burns preparing for a run. Courtesy photo

    They mostly cycled together back then but fell back in love with running once they had more time for it. After Robert and his partners sold their business, Night Shift Brewing, in January, they moved to Concord, which was perfect for them.

    “Concord has such an amazing amount of sidewalks and trails,” Robert said. “You can run from neighborhoods to farms to the woods to Walden Pond. Like, this is just too incredible not to be outside.”

    Rory will run to raise money for Women’s Lunch Place, a shelter for women experiencing homelessness and poverty. Robert qualified for the race with a time under three hours. 

    Although they got into the race for different reasons, they want to set a good example for their kids. Recently, the kids started asking about joining track meets and going on runs. The kids wanted to train for a school turkey trot, which prompted a trip to a local track.

    “Kids see what you do. They see how you talk, they see how you spend your time, they see what you eat,” Rory said. “Fostering this love for them to love movement in whatever way it may be is a piece of why I wanted to do it and show them.” 

    After the race, they’re looking forward to a few things.

    “A beer!” Robert said with a laugh. 

    “Stopping,” Rory said. “We’ll have family in town for the race, but yeah, shower and sitting on the couch.”

    This story is part of a partnership between The Concord Bridge and the Boston University Department of Journalism.

  • A patriot’s day

    We enter the Masonic Lodge in Concord and put on the gear. The black cartridge box wraps around my torso and hangs by my right hip. I hoist the 9-pound musket and place the tricorn hat on my head. 

    Read more Milestone 250 coverage here.

    If it weren’t for my modern blue jeans, I’d be ready for 1775.

    Doug Ellis, a former captain, usually marches side by side with his fellow Concord Minute Men. Today, he’s got a bumbling reporter to instruct in the ways of a latter-day citizen soldier. 

    “Shoulder your firelock!” he orders.

    In two motions starting with the right hand, he swings the long musket across his torso. Then, against his left shoulder with the lock of the gun facing away. The long weapon adds a few feet to his height. 

    I repeat the motion.

    The musket is balanced and ergonomic. With enough training, someone might feel good about holding it. For my part, I just don’t want to drop it. I also keep tapping my hat, which feels crooked on my head.

    Ellis instructs me to hoist the musket in different ways, demonstrating how to present the firelock and how to properly place it by my side. 

    Another unfamiliar task

    I embarrass myself as I try to flip the ramrod, a long steel rod meant to load a musket, down the barrel. I struggle to pull it out of its sheath and throw it down the barrel. It bounces with a ping. 

    “Prepare your firelock!” He orders once again.

    I lift the musket and place its brass butt against my right shoulder. He steps behind me, placing his left foot along the side of my right. The barrel of his musket is parallel to mine. 

    “Fire!” he orders.

    Normally, a flash of smoke and fire would billow about 15 feet from the mouth of the barrel. Instead, it snaps.

    “Pretty cool, right?” he asks.

    I asked him about the muskets, which he refinished himself. He walks through the details of stripping, sanding, and refinishing the walnut stock of the many firearms he’s fixed up. Some barrels, he said, have rusted over time. 

    I’m told the other Minute Men are especially fond of the ornate weapon I’m holding.

    He details his work with pride, passing his hand along the long gun as if he’s refinishing it now. He talks about his appreciation for the ergonomic design and the balance of the musket, which was “remarkable” for the time. 

    I fire the musket one more time. Its snap echoes in the lodge.

    I place the musket by a brown pew with blue cushions and remove my cartridge box. For some reason, the hat now feels comfortable.

    I help him bring his equipment back to his car. Before he opens the trunk, he points at his license plate, which reads “1775.”

    “My two loves: masonry and 1775!” he says.

    This story is part of a partnership between The Concord Bridge and the Boston University Department of Journalism.

  • Modern Minute Men’s major moment 

    Doug Ellis aiming his musket. Photo by Gabriel Martins

    After an early-morning skirmish in Lexington, the shot heard round the world rang out in Concord on April 19, 1775. The bloody defiance of British authority gave rise to widespread resistance from citizen soldiers armed with muskets and an itch for independence.

    Read more Milestone 250 coverage here.

    Today, some are donning the blue woolen coats of George Washington’s army, hoisting muskets, and re-enacting the war’s early days.

    Since 1962, the Concord Minute Men have been commemorating the militias of that time. The modern-day patriots, a familiar presence in Concord parades and at other local events, will play a featured role in the 250th anniversary of the American Revolution. 

    Big day, big presence

    Capt. Carl Sweeney, who has been a Concord Minute Man for 54 years, starting when he was 16, will lead the 47-strong unit on Patriots Day through North Bridge, along with a music unit. After that, they’ll head to Minute Man National Park, where they’ll perform vignettes of the war’s first battles.

    Sweeney said a lot of work went into recruiting members through newspapers, social media, and word of mouth. 

    “We’ve been very, very fortunate,” Sweeney said. “We’ve picked up some really great, dedicated, talented people, and our goal is [that] you come join us and you do what you can do to make it fun.”

    Drills and rehearsals

    The Minute Men have been preparing assiduously leading up to the anniversary. The music company — typically playing fifes and drums — have met every Tuesday night, year round. 

    Doug Ellis in the “shoulder arms” position. Photo by Gabriel Martins

    As for the group holding muskets, they ran three to four drills, starting in January, with different units in the area, said Doug Ellis, Sweeney’s predecessor as captain.

    “We’ll drill with Acton, Lincoln, Sudbury, Bedford; usually we’ll do it in Lincoln,” Ellis said. “It’s always just a better experience when you’ve got more people doing it.”

    They strive for authenticity, Ellis said. The unit will follow the 1764 royal manual of arms, a drill protocol used by the British and adopted by the Colonials.

    “They drilled in 1774, same as we are now,” Ellis said. “The whole idea is, we get out there, we do the drills. So we’re all doing the commands the same way. We understand the commands. We understand how it’s supposed to work.” 

    Safety is paramount

    A different group’s musket misfired a live round through a beam in the Westford Museum during a practice in 2023, so the Minute Men exercise extreme caution to prevent mishaps.

    “The primary key is safety because we do have live powder when we’re firing,” Ellis said. “An accident is not acceptable, and we haven’t had one, and we don’t ever want to have one.”

    It’s no easy feat being a Minute Man — nor does it come cheap. 

    The typical uniform costs around $4,000, although they have hand-me-downs from former members. Maintaining authenticity standards with the National Park Service is difficult. Ellis recalled when a person from NPS accused him of having a cotton canteen strap rather than an authentic hemp one, which he had.

    “They’ll split hairs … over the finest details,” Ellis said. “I, for example, will not participate in a national park event because of how just overbearing they are on those little things that don’t matter.”

    Sweeney said such strict standards can discourage newcomers, which is why the Concord Minute Men won’t turn anyone away who wants to join.

    “We’re really a parade and a celebratory unit, [and] if somebody really wants to represent the town and participate, then we’re all welcoming,” Sweeney said. “Come on in, and we’ll make it work.”

    Bicuspids and tricorns

    Dentist Stephen M. Vultaggio has been a Minute Man for eight years. His office is decorated in Colonial memorabilia. A tricorn hat leans against a sketch of himself in a Minute Man uniform. 

    A blue binder in his office traces his lineage to a foot soldier in the Revolution.

    “You can’t go very far without bumping into history,” Vultaggio said. 

    Stephen M. Vultaggio in his revolutionary garb. Courtesy photo

    He gained an appreciation for history through his grandmother, Florence Towne Bernier, who was head of the Daughters of the American Revolution, an organization for women directly descended from Revolutionary patriots, in Lexington for three decades. 

    Vultaggio has since joined other re-enactment groups, such as the 1812 Marine Guard, which works with the Navy and conducts demonstrations on the USS Constitution.

    “I think my nickname sometimes, especially with the 1812 Marines, is ‘Hollywood,’ because I love getting out with the people,” Vultaggio said. “I feel like one of those characters at Disney they line up to get [pictures] with. I just like making people smile.”

    This story is part of a partnership between The Concord Bridge and the Boston University Department of Journalism.