The Man On The Tricycle

Newtown’s good looks have won the hearts of many a family searching western Connecticut for a place to live. How many times have you heard the story of house hunters who have made up their minds to live here after a drive down Newtown’s Main Street? The antique homes, the rolling landscapes, the quiet back roads are the quintessence of that New England ideal planted deep in our consciousness by the sentimental art of Norman Rockwell and Currier & Ives before him. Like many relationships, it may be beauty that sparks the romance, but it is something deeper that makes it endure — something all the infatuated passers-through completely miss: the people of Newtown.

Our pages are filled each week with stories about the activities and achievements of the people of Newtown, and to be truthful most other towns with similar demographics have plenty of residents who are active and accomplished. But there are a handful of individuals unique to this town who remind us every time we encounter them that there is no other place quite like this place. There is the nonagenarian with the dancing spirit, Ginny Lathrop, and Al Penovi, proprietor of the porcelain paradise on Washington Avenue in Sandy Hook, and the perpetually perambulating George Pert. Sadly, last Sunday, Newtown lost one of its truly remarkable characters.

Bill Ready died unexpectedly at his home in Sandy Hook last Sunday. He was known to most Newtowners as the man on the tricycle. He often could be seen pedaling through the crush of SUVs and luxury sedans on Church Hill Road from Sandy Hook to the center of town and back. The three-wheeler was for him a handy and economical conveyance — a necessity — though it was easy for those unfamiliar with his circumstances or his character to view it as an eccentricity. Yes, Bill Ready did things a little differently. His life was a study in economy and simplicity against a swirling backdrop of affluence and complexity. And he stood out as a result. He was eccentric in the sense that the circle of his existence was not concentric to the circles in which most of the rest of us travel. But he was unabashedly himself — kind, courteous, generous in spirit, and always a willing helper.

While he had no family in the immediate area, Bill Ready had many friends here in town from all walks of life who now mourn his loss. (See the story below.) It is a loss that erodes in no small way the identity of this town. Remembering who we are as a community will depend in part on our ability the remember the example of Bill Ready’s life and his courage to be exactly the person he was — no more, no less, no excuses, no apologies. His life helped define the enduring romance of this town.