BRISTOL

The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball…

This field, this game: it’s a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good and it could be again. 

Terence Mann (played by James Earl Jones) in Field of Dreams

I drove to Bristol the other day. I always enjoy going to Bristol.

Bristol is a city of 60,000 people, 20 miles southwest of Hartford. Over the past 50 years, Carolyn and I have resided in Hartford, West Hartford, Glastonbury, and now Wethersfield. Wherever we’ve lived, there always seemed to be a reason to go to Bristol.

I’m no expert about Bristol. If I follow my nose, I can get to Bristol easily enough, but once I get there, I’m lost. If I take Route 6, I end up in one section of the city; if I take Route 72, I’m in a completely different section. Go out I-84, I arrive someplace else in Bristol. Three different areas in the city, and after 50 years I still don’t understand how to get from one to another. It doesn’t help that street names seem to change every few blocks. This time, I followed Google maps to an address on Terryville Road, only to discover that I was looking for an address on Terryville Avenue. Terryville is a village within the small and shrinking Town of Plymouth; why does Bristol need two highways named after it?

Still, I’m a fan of Bristol. I always get the sense that Bristol is a holdover from an earlier day, when cities like Bristol were quintessential America, the vital center of middle America. Hard-working, friendly people, proud of their city and what they’ve accomplished, ready to make tomorrow better than today. I like Bristol because of its endless optimism. Bristol seems to have been trying to reimagine itself for 50 years or more. Every decade or so, someone comes up with a bright idea about how to make Bristol great again and builds it. Twenty years later, the hoped-for continuing development has stalled, and Bristol has one more semi-occupied area, with empty parking lots and moribund retail. No matter; there’s life in Bristol, it’s vibrant, the townspeople keep trying. It’s their community, and they want to make it work. In fact, there’s some nice new housing that’s been built on Main Street, and the developer wants to build more. It’s another new start, and it looks great.

I also like Bristol because it’s loaded with interesting places. Loaded. Lake Compounce is in Bristol, the oldest continuously operating amusement park in North America. Connecticut families have enjoyed Lake Compounce for nearly 200 years. One of their roller coasters is 100 years old, and the other is a top-10 rated wood roller coaster in the country. There are rides for all ages, a beach on the lake, and of course food. If you live in Connecticut and you have kids, you’ve probably been to Lake Compounce.

Roller coasters aren’t your style? How about the American Clock and Watch Museum? A great place to spend an afternoon learning about Connecticut’s role as a leading clock manufacturing center in the 19th century. The museum is located in the Federal Hill district in Bristol, first settled in the 18^th century and home to several lovely preserved houses from earlier eras.

Clocks too boring for you? Go to the New England Carousel Museum and marvel at the collection of antique painted carved wood carousel animals. Fabulous. And they have plenty of other interesting exhibits, as well, including a great collection of historic fire-fighting gear and equipment.

ESPN world headquarters and broadcast facilities are in Bristol. ESPN isn’t open to the public to visit, but a fortunate few are invited to private events there from time to time. Just a drive past the facility and into the parking lot is enough to get some sense of the magnitude of the operation there. Nearby, the Otis Elevator Test Tower rises nearly 400 feet in the skyline, the tallest elevator testing facility in the country.

And although many residents would rather it wasn’t, Bristol is also the home to a 700-ton-per-day trash burning facility that generates electricity sufficient to power the equivalent of 10,000 homes. Neighbors have complained about the facility for decades, but it is a safe and valuable source of renewable energy for central Connecticut.

What I really like about Bristol is that it’s a city that builds things. Manufacturing culture is alive and well in the city, a culture that was classic New England before it became classic Midwest. Why did I drive to Bristol this time? To have a replacement window screen made. Maybe someone in Hartford makes screens, but I couldn’t find them. What’s taken me to Bristol more than any other single reason? Wood cabinets. Modern Cabinet has built cabinets for each of our three houses, and it’s just one of ten or fifteen woodworking shops operating in Bristol. Bristol is dotted with small manufacturing facilities of all kinds, including CNC machining, springs and metal shaping, and medical equipment.

Bristol is the archetypical small pre-World War II manufacturing city that America has left behind. It could be in the rust belt. New Departure Manufacturing once employed from 3,000 to 7,000 people there, before transforming into a General Motors plant, then leaving altogether. Ingraham Clocks and Sessions Clocks each maintained large-scale manufacturing operations before closing down in the late 20^th century. The Barnes Group ended the last of its manufacturing operations in 2023. Metallics Inc. recently gave notice that it will shut down in September 2026. Generations of industrial workers filled those plants, and the current generation now fills the smaller machine shops, woodworking facilities, auto repair shops, and similar workplaces that seem to be everywhere. Building things remains at the core of Bristol’s culture.

Bristol culture is like pre-World War II middle America in many other respects. Like most other Connecticut towns, Bristol was founded by Congregationalists, and Protestantism dominated through the 19^th century. Then, Irish, Italian, and Polish immigrants came to Bristol in the 20^th century to work in the factories, increasing the Catholic population and causing religious diversification like that experienced by small manufacturing cities all around the U.S. Bristol’s population has continued to evolve, but the cultural mores of Bristol seem to be decidedly early 20^th century middle-American: White, Christian, patriotic, middle class, good workers and good neighbors.

—

One day I drove from Bristol, following Route 6 into Plainville and then Farmington, then into New Britain and across Cedar Street to my home in a suburban enclave in Wethersfield. The cultural shift and the increase in wealth could not have been more obvious: Middle American, early 20^th century Bristol, largely white, struggling to survive; late-20^th century New Britain, failed large-scale manufacturing, having changed from 90% white to 12% black and 44% Hispanic; 21^st century Wethersfield, still over 75% white, largely white collar, solidly middle-class and above.

Political differences in the towns track the wealth and cultural differences: Bristol is home to middle American Trump supporters; Wethersfield is dominated by east-coast liberal Trump bashers; New Britain is caught somewhere in between. In the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, Bristol voted strongly Republican until turning largely Democratic during the New Deal and through most of the balance of the 20^th century. Bristol flipped to Donald Trump by a small margin in 2016; Joe Biden won by a comfortable margin in 2020, and Bristol flipped back to Donald Trump in 2024, again by a small margin. Wethersfield, on the other hand, has given the Democratic presidential candidate double-digit percentage wins in every election in this century.

I sought out a guy I know in Bristol to listen to his sense of the cultural and political landscape in Connecticut. I picked him because I guessed, correctly, that he was a Trump voter—white, 60+ years old, a blue-collar Army veteran who makes stuff. Call him Bob.

Bob is a good guy, our current political differences notwithstanding. Hard-working and proud of it. A veteran, and proud of that, too. Always ready to help a neighbor. Straight talking, ready to laugh. A guy it would be easy to have a couple of beers with, because he enjoys talking. A guy it would be easy to work with, because he does his job consistently and responsibly.

Bob sees the political/cultural divide clearly. He understands there is a different world just a few miles down the road; he mentioned Simsbury, Avon, and West Hartford particularly. He didn’t say it, but he was talking about the New England liberal elite; he knows he is not one of them, and he knows they are not the “regular people” he says live in Bristol.

Bob is a registered Republican. He was an independent until he applied for a law enforcement job and was told that he would have to register as a Democrat and contribute $250 to the party annually. He declined the job and registered Republican. He said that although he generally votes for Republicans, Donald Trump is the only candidate he has supported enthusiastically, the only candidate who seemed to stand for what he believes in. I asked what about Trump makes him attractive. He said that unlike other candidates, Trump promised to “drain the swamp.”

As we proceeded to discuss politics, other staple MAGA issues arose. Corruption—Nancy Pelosi and her husband are crooks; DEI—although the only example he gave was about political favoritism, not DEI; too much government—Bernie Sanders’ name came up quickly. Bob did say that he was disappointed in Trump’s handling of Iran; he said the U.S. should do what General Dan Caine suggested and “finish the job.” (I don’t believe Dan Caine ever said that.)

Bob has no use for politicians, not the “school teacher” in Congress from his district (Jahana Hayes), not Dick Blumenthal, not Chris Murphy (“don’t get me started”). I got him started nevertheless, because I guessed, correctly again, that Bob is a gun owner. I said that however Bob might feel about gun rights, Murphy deserves credit for standing up for something he believes in. Bob would have little of that—Murphy and people like him don’t understand that plenty of responsible people like Bob can walk around with a pistol on their hip and still know the right time and the wrong time to use it.

What was most notable in our conversation was that Bob had little interest in understanding why other people, those people in Avon, Simsbury, and West Hartford, had such strongly held, opposite views. In that way he is not unlike many liberals who have little interest in understanding what Bob thinks. Both sides are quick to explain why the other side is wrong and glacially slow to appreciate how the other side feels.

My talk with Bob was enlightening, largely and unfortunately predictable, and ultimately discouraging. The only way American democratic politics can work is for people to listen to the concerns of those they disagree with. Bob didn’t give me a lot of hope.

It would help if liberal Americans would recognize that Bob and Bristol are closer to the roots of American democracy than most liberal voters in this blue state. They are more directly the cultural descendants of hard-working, self-sufficient, independent American farmers and craftsmen who fought to create this country 250 years ago. Their understanding of “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights” actually is closer to what the founding fathers meant than how liberal America now understands those words.

None of that makes Bob right and others wrong; it’s a good thing that the meaning of “all men are created equal” has evolved. However, when I talk to Bob and his fellow “regular people,” I try to keep in mind that they come from a place that modern America has largely left behind. They could be happy with their middle-class lives, if only modern America weren’t making it so difficult to maintain them. Like millions of others who think and feel as he does, Bob hasn’t liked being ignored as the post-war liberal boom rolled over the country and manufacturing moved offshore. That has led him to believe that making America great somehow means turning the clock back to the time when Bristol and cities like it were the heart of America. I can’t agree with him; the only way for the United States to survive and prosper is to recognize that America always has been about embracing the future. America always has been about change. America has thrived because of immigration, not despite it, because of diversity, not despite it, because it helped the least fortunate of us, not by demonizing them. Still, it helps me to understand why Bob feels as he does.

—

Carolyn and I have gone to several Yard Goats games this season at Dunkin Park in Hartford. I love the spectacle. Baseball is easy to watch; the pitcher and catcher play catch and every once in a while, the batter hits the ball. There’s always something to watch, but rarely is anything urgent; if it’s urgent, the crowd noise will alert me in time to see most of the play. If I miss something altogether, it probably doesn’t matter.

The players are skilled, so there are good (sometimes not-so-good) baseball plays—base running, fielding, throwing. The players are young and full of hope. The Yard Goats are a Double A team, which means the teams are manned by talented young players who hope one day to play big league baseball. In fact, only a handful of the players will have successful multi-season careers in the bigs. Still, it is evident that the players take their craft seriously, trying to build all of the good habits, all of the strength and skill it takes to be a major leaguer. It feels good seeing these young players working with enthusiasm and hope toward a difficult, often unachievable goal. They share their work ethic with Bristol’s generations of blue-collar workers. It’s old-school middle America, striving to achieve. Many of these players are Spanish-speaking Latin Americans, and others are Black; they are doing what millions of white Americans from earlier generations did to make America great.

The crowd at Dunkin Park is as interesting as the game and the players. The fans are young and old, Black and white and Hispanic and Asian, large and small, male and female. Children are everywhere; infants, toddlers, preschoolers, pre-adolescents, teenagers. Couples on dates, couples like Carolyn and me, enjoying a night out. Everyone has a good time, watching the game, laughing with friends, eating ballpark food and drinking ballpark drinks. Parents explain the game to their kids while managing the ice cream cup or the cotton candy. It’s a bit like the carnival came to town; people are out for a good time with their neighbors–we usually run into someone we know–and we all find it together at the ballpark. There’s a nostalgic feel at the ballpark–it’s a few hours when we can return to an earlier era. It’s so middle American. 

Baseball has always been that way: Played by young people with great energy, enthusiasm, and hope for the future; watched by people who love that energy, and who share that enthusiasm and hope for the future.

After the game, the fans leave the stadium, talking and laughing as they find their way home, some walking to downtown apartments, some driving to homes in Hartford, others to Windsor, to Glastonbury, to Newington and yes, to Avon, Simsbury, and West Hartford. Few will stop to recall that the Red Sox Double A farm team played at Muzzy Field in Bristol into the early 80s, before they moved to New Britain in search of bigger crowds. In New Britain, the Red Sox evolved into the Rock Cats before moving again, this time to the relative big-time of Hartford and becoming the Yard Goats. We forget that Bob may feel that Hartford took minor league baseball from Bristol, just like he may feel that post-war America took large-scale manufacturing from Bristol.

Modern corporate America may have left Bristol behind, but baseball has not. That same nostalgia we feel at Dunkin Park is alive and well at Muzzy Field, a classic minor league baseball stadium from the early 20^th century. Jim Rice and Fred Lynn, two all-time Red Sox stars, played there not so long ago. Muzzy Field is now the home of the Bristol Blues of the New England Collegiate Baseball League, a league that features many of America’s best collegiate players. Thousands of Connecticut American Legion baseball players have played at Muzzy Field, including our son, as well as thousands of high school players. It’s a great old stadium. And baseball also thrives at the A. Bartlett Giamatti Center in Bristol, home to the Little League eastern regional tournament—the winner goes to the Little League World Series. Both ballparks are throw-backs to an earlier, simpler time. A middle American time.

We live in an unusual era, an era when we Americans can be so divided in some respects, so together in others. Maybe Terence Mann was right. Maybe a little more baseball and a little less politics would do us all some good.