Passionate, committed, quirky, generous, curious, theatrical, caring, and fun. These are the words you hear when people talk about Nat Frothingham, perhaps the single person in town most responsible for the continued existence of The Bridge. Nat died March 13 after a brief illness. (See obituary, page 9).
Back in 1993 Nat connected with Phil Dodd over a cup of coffee at the old Horn of the Moon Café in Montpelier to discuss the creation of a local community newspaper. Ten or 12 people showed up at the first meeting; the group managed to recruit others and publish four issues of The Bridge over the next year.
The Bridge, born in large part through a vision that Nat advanced, was on its way to today.
Within a few years of starting The Bridge, Phil stepped back from the paper. So, with energy, enthusiasm, and a sense of humor, Nat ran the paper for the next 20 or so years, with the help of many volunteers and dedicated, lucky employees like me.
Today, The Bridge is officially a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization, run by an engaged board of directors.
“Without Nat’s persistence and vision, none of this would have happened,” Dodd said. “I am immensely grateful to Nat.”
A Training Ground
Nat had been a teacher for many years, in East Africa and in Randolph, Vermont, before his time at The Bridge. His passion for teaching, and supporting aspiring young people, came through time and again during his tenure at the paper.
Dana Dwinell-Yardley — The Bridge’s graphic designer — got her start with Nat when she knocked on the door at The Bridge in 2006.
“Nat immediately scooped me up and invented an internship for me,” Dwinell-
Yardley said. “He celebrated the stories I wrote. He introduced me to local graphic designers and publishers. He gave me responsibility at the paper — small tasks at first, but then more as I demonstrated ability and grew my skills — partly because the paper needed the help, but also because Nat genuinely cared about me succeeding as a designer and a young person.”
Like many, Dwinell-Yardley credits the product we have today to Nat’s tireless efforts.
“Nat’s commitment to the paper means that we still have this amazing community resource, and for that I am grateful,” Dwinell-Yardley said.
In 2014, Nat hired Carla Occaso to write stories, do transcriptions, and even make phone calls to advertisers who had not paid for their ads. She eventually became The Bridge’s managing editor.
She and Nat became close collaborators. She developed a video series called “Chat with Nat” to showcase Nat’s keen ability to engage with people and help them tell their story.
“He was a good friend to his friends. He listened, and he showed up,” Occaso said.
A Run for Office
Well before his Bridge days, Nat ran for the U.S. Senate in 1974. His long-time friend Mason Singer suggested at the time it might be an uphill battle, given his opponent was a fellow named Patrick Leahy. But Nat persisted and campaigned vigorously around the state.
Singer still has some of Nat’s campaign materials, and they contain sentiments that are unmistakably relevant today.
“Americans are stunned,” Nat wrote in his flyers at the time, “by the arrogance of those in power and the abuse of public trust. We ask if renewal is possible. We ask how faith can be restored . . .” And then he called for the impeachment of the then-president Richard Nixon.
Nat and the Montpelier Community
Nat and I were business partners running the paper for several of The Bridge’s early years.
Nat was a figure in town, stopping to talk with people anywhere he went.
He and I had what we called the “25-yard rule.” This wasn’t really a rule, but it was all about the assets we have in our remarkable community.
When Nat and I had a challenge with something at The Bridge we knew — we really knew — that within 25 yards there would be someone in this small city who could help us out of our pickle.
One night, pretty late, Nat and I were on deadline, enmeshed in a struggle over the interpretation of statistics for a story we were preparing. A couple of “word guys” in need of some math help. Nat walked over to the window, just thinking. Suddenly, he thrust it open and yelled (do you remember that wonderful, deep voice?) into the dark street. “John! John! We need your help up here!” John Potthast, the late, well-known mathematics professor from Goddard whom Nat knew from way back, had been strolling through town. He was in our office in 30 seconds helping us with the arithmetic. The 25-yard rule was born.
A couple of years later, Nat procured (I can’t remember from whom) a beautiful oak desk that we wanted to put in the office. Problem was, the office was up the narrowest set of stairs in Montpelier, above what is now the Namaste Indian Nepali Kitchen on the corner of Main and Langdon streets. One afternoon, the two of us were in the street, pushing, grunting, twisting, yanking, to no avail. Then, Nat saw three tall athletic men walking down the street and hailed them. Local Nordic ski coach Bill Holland and two 20-something Scandinavian ski racers grabbed the hulk, and the desk was in the office in five minutes.
Watching the joy and connection that Nat found in this community was inspiring, and I learned a tremendous amount from him. He was cooperative and opinionated in the best way. When we didn’t agree, we easily worked it out. Uncanny, really, for two people working hard on a small community paper, deadline upon deadline. I was always inspired by his commitment to getting to the bottom of a story, to being fair in his reporting, to cleaning up the very last typo moments before paper went onto the press. His goal, he told me many times, was for the paper to be “indispensable to our readers.”
During the time we worked together we developed a deep friendship, full of trust, open communication and laughs. There were tons of laughs, too many to recount.
Long-time Bridge ad sales representative Carolyn Grodinsky said it perfectly: “Nat was great fun to work with and made everyone feel that they played an important role in the success of the paper,” she said. “He made working at the paper fun.”
Nat’s generous and intelligent and humorous soul touched so many people. And now, sadly, he isn’t with us. Hard to know what to say.
Maybe Larry Floersch, who amiably and competently has served as copy editor for the paper for many years, can help us out: “Sail on, Nat. Calm seas. May your press card be honored whenever you land.”
Special thanks go to the following people who contributed reflections to this report: Phil Dodd, Dana Dwinell-Yardley, Larry Floersch, Carolyn Grodinsky, Carla Occaso, and Mason Singer.
