West Whately Chapel is a stone’s throw from my childhood home. It sits in front of an earthen dike that holds back the old reservoir, which used to serve Northampton. Growing up, my siblings and I were aware of the enormous volume of water contained there. We knew that if the dam broke, our house would be swept away. It was tangible evidence of something we already felt: that we were never really safe.
There is a new reservoir now, much larger, and a new dam, huge and modern, made of stone and concrete. But the old reservoir is still there, placid and dark. The simple white chapel, with its stained-glass windows, potbellied stove (the only heat source in winter), and boarded-up, old-fashioned john, is used mostly for weddings and funerals. Both my sister Dereka and I got married there, and we’re having our brother Brian’s funeral there today.
