For a newspaper, which is in the business of telling stories, a big anniversary year like Newtown’s Tercentennial this year is a windfall. It provides us with an excuse to weave golden threads of history into our running narrative of the community, enriching this ever-emerging tale we tell with deep context. It is something we should do more often, even without an excuse.

We are grateful, at the ending of this memorable year, to all the people who took the time to poke around in Newtown’s colorful past as kids might poke around in a forgotten steamer trunk in the attic, pulling out costumes, artifacts, and old letters to stimulate and delight our imaginations with the possibility of inviting the past into our present lives. We especially want to thank the leader of this merry band, Dan Cruson, for whom the title “town historian” is written not so much on his calling cards as in his DNA. If through some odd twist in the space-time continuum we had to cover a town meeting in the 18th Century, we would send Dan; he would know everyone by name.

The community learned something about history from the various celebratory parties, reenactments, commemorative books, parade, and numerous retellings of nearly forgotten stories of old Newtown. We learned that history is the present. As we watched so many characters from our town’s past come to life at tercentennial events throughout 2005, we were reminded that all life takes place in the present moment. The past is gone and can only be remembered. The future has yet to arrive and can only be anticipated. Yet the remembering and the anticipation exist now and are not mere entertainments and diversions. They color our perception of our present condition, inform our understanding of it, and give us direction in this long succession of present moments that was, is, and will one day be our story. At the end of this tercentennial year, we feel especially privileged to be telling that story.