Mead Hall

Brian Bastian had spent sixty-five years as a nose-to-the-grindstone, semi-reclusive, money-making businessman, and now that he'd retired, he decided to be both social and philanthropic. He began by selling some stock and creating the most unique entity in Jefferson County. It was the senior Mr. Bastian who established the now-famous Mead Hall.

Brian had isolated himself so much that when he wondered how he would spent his retirement years he had nothing to turn to: No history, culture, or tradition but himself. Because of this, the motif he used in his plan was original; it was not trying to relive medieval times, the Arthurian legend, or anything he'd ever heard about. He created Mead Hall the way he did simply because it sounded like the best way to fulfill his desire.

The idea was to construct a building wherein he could meet all kinds of people on his terms. It wouldn't be their place, their organization, their rules, or backed by government or institution money. The set-up was simple: Mead Hall would be a huge room made of sturdy oak beams, thick solid-wood walls, and a double-depth wooden floor. Huge wooden tables could serve over a hundred people, each sitting in his own massive oak chair. The hall would be so big that the eating area would not have to be removed for the evening's activities.

The kitchen would be open so everyone could see the food being

prepared and smell it. There were walk-in freezers, refrigerators, and storage rooms. Since the natural approach underlay everything in the hall, smoke was not only tolerated but expected. So the indoor barbecue and roasting pit sent their by-products to stain the ceiling. An enormous rock fireplace and hearth dominated one side of the hall. So massive, it made four-foot logs look like toothpicks.

Brian created the open area for dances and celebrations and a large, raised stage for skits, plays, and contests to be enacted on. Since naturalness was encouraged, no one worried about dirtying or scuffing the floor. Its massive planks were so solid no amount of foot-stomping could damage it anyway, and many tried. From cowboy boots to Cossack dancing to tap, to Spanish clomping, everyone took advantage of the sturdy floor and enjoyed it thoroughly.

Brian's idea was to celebrate something each week. This gave him a chance to meet not only many people but a great variety as well. He began by hiring a team of researchers. They noted the founding day of one hundred and eight nations. They listed the habits of the people: eating, dressing, religious, and traditional types of entertainment. Each week Brian would put a flyer in the newspaper highlighting the nation and inviting everyone even vaguely associated with it to join in the celebration. Brian would supply the place free of charge, the people would bring the food, beverages, and entertainment.

In time, many weddings were held. Also bat and bar mitzvahs, singing groups, orchestras, acting troupes, and magic shows, indoor carnivals, Mardi Gras, Christmas, Hanukkah, Purim, Thanksgiving, Easter, all the major days for celebration were held in Mead Hall until it became the place to be. Through the hall, Brian gave the community something it needed; reenlivenment of its multi-traditional culture. Also, he gained

what he wanted -- to socialize on his terms.

Mr. Bastian made it clear to every group that he didn't require any payment for the use of the hall. He pointed out that people could make donations but didn't have to. The people knew a good thing when they saw it, so they were happy to give almost as much as it cost to rent. The only stipulations the owner made were that the guests didn't tear the place down and that they cleaned up before leaving.

Because Mead Hall was not a public place or business, the police were obliged to consider it as a private residence. Therefore no liquor license was required or hours that had to be adhered to. Mead Hall was a family place so people of all ages came and, just like real family gatherings, some drank, some smoked, others danced and sang and even chased each other playing tag and what-all. The guests respected the owner's generosity so they never abused the hall.

At the wedding of Stanley and Brenda Nigorski the bounds were stretched a bit. The typical Polish affair lasted for three days and nights. The smell of cooking sausage, of a pig roasting over the pit, kegs of beer, the polka dancers sailing over the floor, accordion music galore, laughter, and liveliness rang through the sturdy beams nonstop. At the end, everyone who could still stand, cleaned up. Though they tried their best, they left Mead Hall in a minor shambles. Fortunately the Irish-Americans didn't mind as they readied the room for St. Patrick's Day. And what a celebrationthatwas!

In time, many relationships were begun. It became like the only pub in town, the community center unhampered by regulations but governed by the good, common sense of the people, and a great birthday/wedding/anniversary place. Everyone looked forward to the week's splash.

All the while, Brian grew happier. His brainchild became a greater success than he'd envisioned the first weeks of his retirement. At any time he could stroll to the hall and eat scones, hit a Pinata, taste vodka brought from the old country, watch swirling mazurka skirts or the reel or dances from anywhere around the world. His social life became unlimited, as did everyone's in Jefferson County because in time people of all nationalities were represented. Brian's experiment became so successful, in fact, that he wrote in the by-laws of his trust fund that his every penny would go to maintaining the hall until the sturdy beams rotted.

It's also true that the schools began participating, but only by necessity. When a research project was announced, teacher after teacher found that the traditions of the many countries that celebrated in the great room became favorite topics. They noticed that the choices of student topics coincided with that week's celebration at Mead Hall. So many reports were made that the school created its own central file; the study of history had never been so popular.

Another spin-off was genealogy. The librarian noticed that there was an increasing demand for books on place and family names, on documentation of lineage, on proof of ancestry. The residents of Jefferson County became very aware of their historic identifies, and this further enhanced the school curriculum as well as family albums and scrapbooks.

Brian Bastian lived until he was eighty-five. He died the evening of Baptiste Day and no one knew what to do. The owner's custom was to lock the gates after a party had begun so no crashers could interrupt. After searching through telephone directories, one of Brian's grandsons was located. He not only took charge of the immediate situation but of Mead Hall from that time on.

Brisdan's friends applied pressure. While the hall had been a popular

success for twenty years, not a penny had been made from it. No taxes paid, no catering fees made, nothing any more than if a party were held in a private home. But Brian's heir was as dedicated to the terms of the trust and concept of a free hall as his grandfather, so the tradition continued. Never a hang-out or beer hall, the clientele remained stalwart family members. Because the hall could be reserved only, and technically all visitors were guests, Mead Hall never became a place of business nor made a dime. Instead, it because a landmark of philanthropy, generosity, sociability, and friendliness.

Mead Hall has been standing for a full century now, and its massive beams don't show more than a decade's wear. Every kind of food, liquor and beverage, of decoration from every nation has been pounded into the sturdy walls. Every sound from around the world has ricocheted throughout the building. Aired out after every celebration, it has never taken on that stale-beer, tobacco odor of most wooden buildings. Instead, it has taken on a unique character all its own.

No one has been able to describe this quality perfectly because it seems to change every time a different nationality, complete with its cuisine and customs, enters it. But in spite of this great variety, the hall possesses a solidity, stability, a permanence, a place where family and friends feel safe, where birds of a feather flock together and everyone can live and relive its national integrity and heritage. Perhaps the only way to describe the underlying quality of Mead Hall is to say that it stands alone as did its creator, Mr. Brian Bastian, retired.