Pete Pedersen believes he has no choice but to answer the call for help with the ongoing grounds renovation at the Vinalhaven Grange.
A summertime Grange member, Pedersen knows if he refuses to help, fellow member Lois Webster will do it. And if Webster, who is in her late eighties and a survivor of cancer, a heart attack and a stroke, is willing to do some hard physical labor, Pedersen thinks he’d better be willing, too.
Vinalhaven residents praise Webster for converting an eyesore of an acre next to the Grange property into what Pedersen now describes as “one of the most beautiful places on the island.” Grange members plan to name the resulting park after her.
“Without her, the transformation of the Vinalhaven Grange Hall would not have gone on,” Pedersen said.
Webster is one of dozens of dedicated Grange members in coastal Maine who are trying to keep the Grange tradition alive and its historic halls open. But as the average age of members climbs upward and Maine loses Grange halls every year, some wonder whether their efforts will be enough to keep the movement from dying out.
Grange halls were once the social centerpieces of life in small-town Maine, back when the coast was lined with family farms. Part of a national movement, the first Maine Grange hall opened its doors in 1874. In 1907, at the height of the movement’s popularity, Maine had 419 Grange halls filled with 55,212 members, according to Grange historical data.
The Grange was started as a quasi-union for farmers who needed to fight unfair railroad and warehouse prices. It was progressive, allowing equal membership to females and campaigning for women’s right to vote, as well as helping to start free rural mail delivery. But perhaps most important, Grange halls quickly grew into social centers for agrarian small-towns, with weekly gatherings and frequent dinners.
But as farming declined in Maine, so did the number of Grange halls, said Jim Owens, Maine State Grange master. Now, there are only 180 halls and 8,000 members. In addition to Vinalhaven, there are active Grange chapters on only two other islands, Chebeague and North Haven, according to Owens. (The North Haven Grange recently completed its own renovations.) Owens estimates the state is losing two to three Grange halls a year. Some of that loss is unavoidable, he said; Grange halls were often built five to ten miles apart, and became redundant with the advent of the automobile. But mainly, the halls are closing due to the attrition of age of its members, Owens said.
“Their membership gets older and they weren’t able to keep going,” he said.
But there are many who want to preserve the Grange tradition, including historians and historic preservationists. The halls frequently are listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and many feel Grange members hold the oral histories of their communities, especially on islands. But Owens and others believe Grange halls can serve as more than living museums; they still can be centers to bind communities in an increasingly suburban and internet-filled landscape.
“You’re actually there and you’re able to do things on the local level,” he said.
Some Grange halls have been turning to community theater as a way to boost member attendance and raise needed repair funds. Carol Korty, head of Lamoine Community Arts, has been organizing theater event fundraisers to repair the Lamoine Grange roof. A May short-play reading brought the Grange to within $800 of its original fundraising goal. Upon returning to Lamoine, Korty said she fell in love with the building’s architecture and history.
“They have a lovely little stage,” Korty said.
But the building is 90 years old, and has a long list of needs. After the roof is repaired, Grange members will begin fundraising to upgrade the electricity, replace the windows and insulate the building.
The theater partnership is more than just a fundraising tactic; it’s also a way to increase membership, said local member Maralyn Hunnewell. Grange rules say local chapters must keep an active membership of 13 members, and that number is getting harder to achieve as members age, she said. Hunnewell is 68.
“I’m one of the youngest ones,” she said.
There’s been some concern among older members that the theater will push out traditional Grange activities. Such concerns are not unfounded; Korty told of two Grange halls where contra dances and theater events have alienated longtime Grange members. But Hunnewell and Korty believe the two activities can co-exist. And, Hunnewell adds, there isn’t any other option; the Grange needs new blood to survive.
“You have to try to get some people in,” she said.
Sometimes, new and old blood can mix to create a stronger Grange. The Machias Grange Hall was in danger of being torn down before a young group of politically-active artists known as the Beehive Collective bought the building for an office. At first, the collective’s members had never heard of the Grange, but they soon discovered that both of their missions overlapped. Some of the collective members became Grange members, and after completing major renovations, the collective welcomed the Machias Grange back to the hall in a formal ceremony last year.
Grange chapters will have to recruit new blood and hope for the best, say some members. Even Granges with dedicated members like Vinalhaven face an uncertain future. Though the Vinalhaven Grange will celebrate a centennial this year, Pedersen doesn’t think the chapter will be around for many other celebrations.
“Within five years, the Grange will be gone,” he predicted. “When the people die, that passion will be gone.”