When girls ran the Moviehouse

From left, Laura, Marcia and Sharon Ferguson, Tom Babbitt, and (in front) Sandy Ferguson, pose in front of the Millerton Moviehouse — then called The Millerton Theater — in 1974. Photo courtesy of the Fergusons

MILLERTON — The Moviehouse on Millerton’s Main Street is iconic.
Built in 1903 and used briefly as a grange hall, it was soon converted into a movie theater with a second-floor ballroom. Some know that it fell into disrepair in the 1970s before being bought and restored by Carol and Robert Sadlon in 1977. Some fewer know that it was briefly a porn theatre. But it is a seldom told story that, for two years (the summers of 1974-1975), four teen-aged sisters ran the movie theater.
The girls’ father, M. Carr Ferguson, senior counsel in Davis Polk & Wardwell’s tax department, was teaching at the University of Iowa in the early 1960s when he was offered a position at New York University Law School. His beloved late wife agreed to the move on one condition: that they’d also have a place in the country.
One of their four daughters, Sharon, recalled: “Mom told me that she put a map out and placed a pin right where we lived. She then cut a string as long as what would have been 100 miles, and she just ran the string around. Anywhere within that space was okay. Turned out Lakeville was it!”
The Fergusons sent their children to PS 41 in the city and raised them in Washington Square, but summers were always spent up at the lake. As the children got older, however, it got harder and harder to entice them away from their social lives and the allure of the city. Then Mrs. Ferguson had an idea.
Mr. Ferguson recalled her saying, “We have to do something to get the girls up here, and we can get rid of the adult movie house at the same time.”
At the time, the Millerton movie house (called the Millerton Theater prior to 1978) was a porn theater.
In December 1973, The Lakeville Journal ran a story reading:
“‘Are you aware of the type of motion picture you are coming to view?’ Richard Masters asks this of everyone who comes to purchase a ticket for the XX-rated movies in Millerton, N.Y. Apparently some people have different expectations and do not realize the type films that are being shown.
“Richard and Barbara Masters, formerly employed at the Canaan Drive-in in Connecticut, took over as managers of the Millerton theatre on Monday Nov. 26. The Victory Theater Corporation, which bought the Millerton Theater back in June, can explain the run of sex-based movies.
“Jim Severin, spokesman for Victory, said. ‘No theater goes to X policy through preference, only through darn necessity.’ According to Mr. Severin, the Millerton Theater has lost over $5,000 since August: ‘at this point we’re just looking to meet house expenses. With X-rated films our take is a little bit better.’”
In the early ‘70s, Mr. Ferguson had a client in the United Artists theater corporation. That client was Egyptian-born Salah M. Hassanein, who began his career as an usher at a movie theater in New York and rose through the ranks to become president of United Artists Eastern Theaters and subsequently president of Warner Brothers International Theaters.
In the summer of 1975, The Fergusons decided they would rent the movie house from the Victory Theater Corporation with motivation that was two-fold: to stop the showing of the X-rated movies and to entice their four daughters to spend their summers with the family in Lakeville.
For the next two summers (1974-1975), the four Ferguson daughters, aged about 11-19 at the time, ran the theater.
“At the beginning, they didn’t like us,” said Marcia, referring to the men in town who had frequented the porn showings.
“At the beginning, bras and tampons got thrown into the lobby because it was four girls running the theater!” The sisters laughed, and Marcia continued, “Laura, my oldest sister, had the idea to take advantage of all the male attention and would get them to help sweep the lobby. The next thing you know, they were our ‘protectors.’”
The girls came up with all sorts of ways to entice the men to their advantage because, as it turned out, running the theater was a huge job.
“Laura, the oldest, was the manager,” explained Marcia. “Sharon sold tickets and made popcorn, and I was the projectionist.”
A young man in town, Jason Schickele, who had worked as the projectionist at the Mahaiwe and Colonial theaters, showed Marcia, 14 years old at the time, how to run the projectors.
“He was patient,” Marcia said, showing her again and again everything about the machine. “You were running celluloid,” she explained, “So you’d watch for the little dot in the right-hand corner called ‘the changeover,’ and when you saw that, there was a second dot. That’s when you had to change the film.”
She continued, “If there was a crack in it, you could fix it with just, you know, regular old scotch tape, but you’d have to run it with a little viewfinder so you could see where the problem was.”
She continued: “It was really fun to work those machines. I mean, they were elaborate. You would bang together the carbon. It might take a few times for it to light, but when it did, you couldn’t really look at it. It’s like looking at the sun. It was so powerful.”
“We had so many mishaps,” Sandy laughed.
Marcia continued: “Jason saved our bacon so many times. We would have a full house, having sold all these tickets, and the thing would break, and I’d be completely panicked. Then he’d come over and help us.”
When asked which years they ran the theater, there’s a lot of back and forth about whether it was ‘74-’75 or ‘75-’76.
“I try to set the memory of that time by the movies that we showed because Salah gave us second-run movies. We were a couple of weeks behind,” said Sandy.
“It was movies like ‘Monty Python and the Holy Grail,’ ‘Young Frankenstein,’ ‘Jaws,’” said Sandy, with Marcia jumping in: “One of the really popular ones was when they gave us ‘Gone with The Wind.’”
“That was the very first movie we showed,” Mr. Ferguson interrupted, returning to the busy kitchen from another room in the house. He went on to proudly say, “These girls had it running at a profit for those two summers.”
The girls had constantly evolving, entrepreneurial ideas of how to make it a sustainable business, and the theater was a success.
“We placed ads in the paper all the time,” said Marcia, “like ‘Thursday dollar night.’ When it rained, if we woke up and it was raining, we’d call the summer camps and say, ‘bring the campers,’ and we’d go run whatever we were running.”
“We made a profit,” Marcia continued. “And at the end of the two years, I got a stereo system.”
In returning to the origin of the idea, Marcia said: “Mom was in it to get us home for the summer. I mean I was 14 so I was gonna be home anyway, because we didn’t have money for camp. We were not camp kids. This was our camp.”
When asked why they didn’t continue, Mr. Ferguson said that after the two initial summers, they floated the idea around of buying the theater. He explained that he “wanted to buy it, but Marianne [his wife] said, ‘Carr, the kids are graduating. They’re not gonna run it. I’m not gonna run it. You’re not gonna run it.’”
The space lay empty again until Bob and Carol Sadlon purchased it in October 1977, renovating and opening it once again in 1978.
“There’s such a wealth of documentation now with our phones,” said Carol Sadlon when asked about the state of the theater when she and her husband purchased it. “But it’s too bad there isn’t more of the way it was then.”
She went on to say: “It was a single theater with 300 seats. There was no heat, no air conditioning. It was in just terrible condition.”
She said: “Laura [Ferguson] and I had a wonderful conversation years ago, as I recall, because we were both very interested in the preservation of theaters like the Moviehouse, of course. [The Fergusons] have so much enthusiasm, and it really is just extraordinary what they were able to do.”
Several of the Ferguson women have gone on to have lives in performance. Marcia recently retired from the theater department at the University of Pennsylvania and has performed in numerous films and in theater; Sandy (now Huckleberry) is an artist with the Boston-based artists’ collective Mobius.
The Moviehouse again closed its doors in March 2020, until its highly anticipated reopening by David Maltby and Chelsea Altman, who have managed to honor the Moviehouse’s history while bringing a new energy and vision to the space.
Millerton News
Elena Spellman
In a barn on Maple Avenue in Great Barrington, Kathy Reisfeld merges two unlikely worlds: wealth management and yoga, teaching clients and students alike how stability — financial and emotional — comes from practice.
Her life sits at an intersection many assume can’t exist: high finance and yoga. One world is often reduced to greed, the other to “woo-woo” stretching. Yet in conversation, she makes both feel grounded, less like opposites and more like two languages describing the same human need for stability.
On one floor of her barn are yoga mats and the steady rhythm of breath. On the other are computer screens, market charts and conversations about retirement plans and portfolio diversification. For Reisfeld, founder of Berkshire Wealth Group in Great Barrington, these are two sides of a single practice.
“At the end of the day, you’re just dealing with people,” she said. “Whether we’re talking about financial stability or mental stability, it’s kind of all the same thing.”
Reisfeld has spent nearly 30 years in finance, building a client-centered advisory practice that eventually led her to go independent. But her relationship with money began long before her career.
When her mother became ill during Reisfeld’s childhood, finances tightened. It wasn’t poverty, she said, but it was constrained enough to teach her how money — or its lack — can dictate the terms of one’s life. That lesson took on a deeper meaning as she watched her mother remain in a difficult marriage without full financial independence. “Money represented autonomy,” she said. “Freedom.”
In college, Reisfeld initially majored in physics, drawn to systems and structure. But an economics class shifted her direction. Markets, she realized, were systems too — not only mathematical, but deeply human.
After graduating, she landed an internship with a financial adviser and gradually discovered a profession that combined curiosity, problem-solving and relationship-building.
“The more I learned, the more I kind of wanted to get involved,” she said.
Over time, she realized she wasn’t interested in chasing predictions; she was interested in guiding people through uncertainty.
Over nearly three decades, she has watched the industry evolve. It has moved, she believes, from selling products to offering advice — a shift toward aligning compensation with clients’ best interests.
She’s candid about the stereotypes that cling to finance: that it’s driven by greed and full of money-hungry people. Those people exist, she said, but they aren’t the majority.
“It’s kind of like the few bad apples ruining it for everyone.”
At its best, she believes, the work is quieter and more meaningful than its reputation suggests.

Yoga entered her life in 2001, when she was living in New York City and training as a marathon runner.
“I was, like, very anti-yoga,” she admitted with a laugh.
But once she tried it, something shifted. A workshop with Nancy Gilgoff, the first American woman to travel to India to study Ashtanga yoga, “blew my mind open,” she said, revealing yoga as something far larger than poses or stretching.
What began as a physical complement to her running became a doorway into something deeper.
“Ashtanga means eight limbs,” Reisfeld explained. “The physical practice is just the entry point.”
The overlap she sees between yoga and investing is patience. Both practices demand discipline through fluctuation — the ups and downs, the good days and bad days, and the willingness to keep showing up.
In yoga philosophy, she points to the stilling of the mind. In investing, that becomes tuning out the noise — the headlines that spike fear or euphoria, the endless predictions that feel authoritative and rarely land cleanly.
After almost three decades in a traditionally male-dominated industry, Reisfeld has learned to move comfortably in rooms where she was often one of the few women present.
Asked what it was like starting out as a woman in finance, she smiled.
“The lines for the restroom were shorter.”
The humor reflects her temperament. She began her career at 21, and mentorship was not always easy to find. But finance, like yoga, rewards consistency. Ultimately, she built her business through steady growth.
For Reisfeld, yoga is fundamentally about integration. Money is no exception. It shapes how we live, the choices we make and the freedoms we have. Ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear. It only makes it harder.
Now rooted in the Berkshires, advising clients and teaching yoga classes from the same barn, Reisfeld’s work feels less like two careers and more like one philosophy.
When asked what she hopes people feel after spending time with her — whether reviewing a portfolio or finishing a yoga session — her answer is immediate.
“More confident,” she said. “Less stressed. More optimistic about their future.”
For more information or to book an appointment, visit berkshirewealthgroup.com
Kathy Reisfeld, Branch Owner
250 Maple Ave, Great Barrington, MA 01230
845-263-3996
Securities offered through Raymond James Financial Services, Inc. Member FINRA/SIPC.
Berkshire Wealth Group is not a registered broker/dealer and is independent of Raymond James Financial Services, Inc.
Investment advisory services offered through Raymond James Financial Services Advisors, Inc.
Elena Spellman is a Client Service Associate at Berkshire Wealth Group

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Dee Salomon
A partially mowed meadow in early spring provides habitat for wildlife while helping to keep invasive plants in check.
Love it or hate it, there is no denying the several blankets of snow this winter were beautiful, especially as they visually muffled some of the damage they caused in the first place.There appears to be tree damage — some minor and some major — in many places, and now that we can move around, the pre-spring cleanup begins. Here, a heavy snow buildup on our sun porch roof crashed onto the shrubs below, snapping off branches and cleaving a boxwood in half, flattening it.
The other area that has been flattened by the snow is the meadow, now heading into its fourth year of post-lawn alterations. A short recap on its genesis: I simply stopped mowing a half-acre of lawn, planted some flowering plants, spread little bluestem seeds and, far less simply, obsessively pluck out invasive plants such as sheep sorrel and stilt grass. And while it’s not exactly enchanting, it is flourishing, so much so that I cannot bring myself to mow.
I have doubts:If I mow in the spring, would I kill all the overwintering insects? If I mow after the first frost, as suggested in a 2017 paper by the esteemed Kim Stoner, Ph.D., on the Connecticut AgriculturalExperiment Station website, would I lose the seed heads of yarrow, rattlesnake master and black-eyed Susan that birds are supposed to feed on in the winter?Paralyzed by indecision, I have not been able to bring myself to do even a partial cut.
I took a poll at a recent party attended by horticulturalists, environmentalists and garden experts. There was a consensus that early spring is indeed the best time to mow — early, before the ground-nesting birds like woodcock start nesting.I then called Mike Nadeau, whom I consider a meadow master of the Northwest Corner, and he concurred, following the Xerces Society meadow-mowing guidelines: mow in early spring when dandelions are in bloom.
“Xerces Society says this is the time most insects have hatched out of hollow stems and is between bird migrations.”
Nadeau’s experience has borne this out.
“I stress not to mow in fall because a dormant meadow is a haven for winter critters of all ilk.Birds use dormant plants for nesting materials, eat seeds, refuge — not to mention the other mammalian life that benefits from a meadow. An argument that has worked for me to discourage fall mowing is to describe a dormant meadow, with its myriad seed heads and foliage, as kinetic sculpture, especially with snowfall.It’s a beauty all its own.”
Nadeau mows a third to a half of a meadow each year, ideally using a flail mower, which chops vegetation into small pieces, helping foliage to resprout. The unmowed portion is left as a refuge for the animals that get evicted from their homes in the mowed area.
Stoner agrees with Mike to divide up the meadow and mowing different sections at different times. And she validates my mowing trepidation.
“There’s no perfect time. Any time you mow, you will be disturbing the habitat of some creature. If you don’t mow, you will have invasive plants creeping in, and eventually you will have trees,” she said.
“Best thing is to think about what your goals are — what creatures do want to encourage in your meadow? Then set the time of mowing to protect and enhance the habitat for those creatures.”
Additionally, Nadeau suggests that mown paths should be rerouted at least every two years to prevent rhizomatous grasses from establishing, which can grow into meadow edges and look unsightly. And the window is short:
“It’s too late to mow when spring birds arrive in earnest and new meadow growth is taller than 6 inches.”
Lights Out!
One of my favorite meadow benefits are the hundreds of fireflies that emerge in June. I am grateful for the lack of artificial light from neighbors (save for one house across the river with a persistent outside night light), so these creatures can shine brightly — and securely.
The organization DarkSky International relays the effect outdoor lights can have on fireflies: an almost 50% decrease in flashes per minute, which affects courtship behavior and mating success, according to two studies they cite on its website,darksky.org.
There, you can also get the lowdown on the devastating effects even one outdoor light can have on birds, amphibians, insects and mammals.The organization provides educational materials that explain the issue, making it easier to bring it up to neighbors and friends — which I will soon try with the house across the river.
Dee Salomon ungardens in Litchfield County.
Jack Sheedy
Playwright Cinzi Lavin, left, poses with Kathleen Kelly, director of ‘A Goodnight Kiss.’
Litchfield County playwright Cinzi Lavin’s “A Goodnight Kiss,” based on letters exchanged between a Civil War soldier and the woman who became his wife, premiered in 2025 to sold-out audiences in Goshen, where the couple once lived. Now the original cast, directed by Goshen resident Kathleen Kelly, will present the play beneath the gold dome of Connecticut’s Capitol in Hartford as part of the state’s America250 commemoration — marking what organizers believe may be the first such performance at the Capitol.
“I don’t believe any live performances of an actual play (at the Capitol) have happened,” said Elizabeth Conroy, administrative assistant at the Office of Legislative Management, who coordinates Capitol events.
When Lavin inquired about staging the production there, “they were very excited about it,” she said.
The performance, to take place April 1, is being sponsored by the Connecticut League of Women Voters. Organizers said the Capitol setting offers a fitting backdrop for a story rooted in American history and civic life.
“A Goodnight Kiss” is a dramatic reading drawn from letters exchanged between Sgt. Maj. Frederick Lucas (David Macharelli) and Sarah Jane “Jennie” Wadhams (Olivia Wadsworth). Fred wrote from battlefields, while Jennie wrote from the peaceful confines of Goshen. Together, their letters trace a gradually deepening romance and how the couple overcame objections by Jennie’s father, John Marsh Wadhams, and finally married in 1867.
“I just found it adorable that (Jennie’s father) was going to make sure she got the right kind of husband, which is why Fred had such a hard time,” Kelly said.
BroadwayWorld reviewer Sean Fallon called the play “the most romantic love story I have ever seen acted out on stage.”
The letters were first brought to light in the 2002 book “Fred and Jennie: A Civil War Love Story” by the late Ernest B. Barker, a Goshen resident and descendant of both the Lucas and Wadhams families. The Barker family discovered Fred’s letters in the Wadhams homestead and Jennie’s letters in a house once owned by a Lucas family member. The correspondence is now housed at the Connecticut Museum of Culture and History in Hartford.

Kelly said presenting the story through letters poses a challenge because the actors rarely interact onstage. During rehearsals, she had the performers face one another while reading their letters aloud. “It was just like magic happened,” she said.
Lavin said the play “tells the story of what truly makes America great, what made America great then, and what still makes it great, which is devotion to duty, service to others, integrity and treasuring freedom.”
David Macharelli, who portrays Fred, said, “Charting (Fred’s) course from enthusiastic young recruit gushing with admiration for the new technology of 19th-century warfare to a man crashing into the reality of war is a reminder that even the noblest of causes demand sacrifice, and that sacrifice is often borne by innocents.”
Olivia Wadsworth said of portraying Jennie, “It’s actually a little dizzying to think about. Two people, more than a hundred years ago, sent private letters to one another, and now their love story is being shared in a performance at the state Capitol.”
The performance will take place April 1 at 2 p.m. in Room 310 of the Capitol at 210 Capitol Ave., Hartford. The event is free and open to the public with advance registration at https://bit.ly/4usa9b7. Arrangements for guests with special requirements may be made by emailing Lisa Del Sesto at admin@lwvct.org or calling 203-288-7996. Parking on Capitol grounds is limited, but additional parking is available nearby at the Legislative Office Building, 300 Capitol Ave.
Robin Roraback
Yonah Sadeh, Falls Village filmmaker and curator of David M. Hunt Library’s new VideoWall.
The David M. Hunt Library in Falls Village, known for promoting local artists with its ArtWall, is debuting a new feature showcasing filmmakers. The VideoWall will premiere Saturday, March 28, at 6 p.m. with a screening of two short films by Brooklyn-based documentary filmmaker and animator Imogen Pranger.
The VideoWall is the idea of Falls Village filmmaker Yonah Sadeh, who also serves as curator. “I would love the VideoWall to become a place that showcases the work of local filmmakers, and I hope that other creatives in the area will submit their work to be shown,” he said.
After the screening of the two films, “Mail Myself to You” and “Circle, Circle Square,” Pranger and Sadeh will discuss filmmaking and answer questions.
Of Pranger, Sadeh said, “She has a strong visual voice as a director, and both of these films are great examples of a blend of documentary and experimental filmmaking.”

Pranger described her approach to filmmaking. “I have always approached the visual arts from an interdisciplinary, multimedia perspective.” This approach was a reason why animation was particularly appealing to Pranger as she began exploring the possibilities of filmmaking.
“I particularly fell in love with the tactility of hand-drawn and painted animation and the ways in which it can be used in tandem with analog 16-millimeter film. Stop-motion animation holds the unique power to bring inanimate objects to life, something that became crucial to my practice of archival documentary filmmaking. I appreciate the sense of play that is encouraged in the medium of animation and find great joy in exploring new avenues and possibilities within the medium,” she continued.
At the core of Pranger’s films, she hopes to capture the joy and intimacy of human connection that blossoms through engagement with material and creative process.
After the opening event, the films will remain available to view at any time on the VideoWall screen in the library stacks. “The screen will always be on and ready for anyone to use,” Sadeh said. The installations will last three to four months.
Sadeh added, “Each installation will begin with a public screening at the library, followed by a talkback with the filmmaker.”
Filmmakers can contact Sadeh at huntartwall@gmail.com for information about submitting films for consideration. Visit huntlibrary.org/art-wall for a schedule of ArtWall and VideoWall events, which are free and open to the public.

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