My Turn: Time to Modernize and Democratize Bridge of Flowers GovernanceBy John F. Sendelbach
Shelburne Falls
The Bridge of Flowers is one of Western Massachusetts’s most beloved public treasures: a 400-foot living garden that draws tens of thousands of visitors each year, supports local tourism, and embodies the region’s history and natural beauty. Yet the way this public asset is governed remains stuck in the past.
For decades, the Bridge of Flowers has been managed by a subcommittee of a private membership organization. There are no public elections, no term limits, no open meetings, and no formal mechanisms for public input. Decisions affecting a publicly owned landmark are made by a small, self-perpetuating group operating largely behind closed doors. Meeting minutes, when they exist, are not readily accessible. Records of key deliberations are effectively unavailable.
This is not modern stewardship of a public resource. A garden of this scale and prominence does not require an insular volunteer structure exercising unchecked authority. A professional, part-time steward — funded by grants, accountable to the Fire District that owns the bridge, and selected through an open process — would provide better oversight, transparency, and continuity. Alternatively, the Fire District could bring management in-house or establish an open advisory board with rotating membership, public meetings, and clear accountability.The risks of the current structure are not theoretical. Recent examples under long-term leadership highlight the need for change.
At the August 2025 ribbon-cutting ceremony — a once-in-a-generation event following a $3.2 million renovation — the absence of a basic PA system meant speeches were drowned out by street noise. Hundreds gathered to celebrate, yet speakers who had worked hard on their remarks were demoralized, knowing their words could not be heard. It was an avoidable failure that diminished a major community moment.
Even more concerning were horticultural decisions during the renovation. The use of 100% organic matter as planting soil is a fundamental error for a garden of this stature, leading to compaction, poor drainage, and long-term plant decline. As a Cornell graduate in floriculture and ornamental horticulture with four decades of experience in landscape design and build, I can say this is not a matter of opinion — it contradicts established best practices. Now embedded beneath irrigation systems and infrastructure, correcting it would require a costly and disruptive overhaul — likely at taxpayer expense — with no apparent plan or funding in place.
This is not about any single incident. It is about structural design flaws: private control of a public asset, entrenched leadership without term limits, absence of transparency requirements, and no meaningful accountability to the community the bridge serves. When governance lacks basic democratic safeguards, even well-intentioned volunteers can make decisions that appear arbitrary or biased — and the public has no effective way to correct course.
Reform is overdue. Dissolve the current subcommittee and replace it with a modern, inclusive model. Hire a professional steward accountable to the Fire District. Require open meetings, published minutes, term limits, and clear pathways for public participation. Return the dedicated volunteers to their true passion — caring for the plants — while professionalizing governance. The bridge belongs to everyone — not to a private group.
As someone who contributed to the bridge for years, including the River Bench and Pothole Fountain, (with the Black Stones memorial added to my design by mason Paul Forth to represent his mixed-race children and promote inclusion), I also have a forward-looking proposal: the Ghost Frame Trolley Trellis. Inspired by Benjamin Franklin’s steel “ghost structure” in Philadelphia, it would be an exact-scale trellis replica of the historic trolleys that once crossed the bridge — placed partway across for shade and visual impact. Vines (morning glories for quick coverage, then perennials) would create a living historical feature tied directly to the valley’s transportation heritage. It would be grant-fundable, low-maintenance, and a distinctive draw for visitors.
The Bridge of Flowers deserves governance as thoughtful and forward-looking as the garden itself. Transparency, professionalism, and public accountability are not radical ideas — they are the minimum standards for managing a shared civic treasure.
John F. Sendelbach is a Shelburne Falls artist, horticulturist, and former contributor to the Bridge of Flowers.
Below is my latest My Turn column, which the Greenfield Recorder CHOSE NOT TO publish. It addresses the current “soil shipment” delay at the Bridge of Flowers and ties it to the deeper pattern of institutional silence and erasure I have documented for six years.
My Turn: The $3.2 Million "Soil Shipment" and the High Cost of Institutional Silence
By John F. Sendelbach
Shelburne Falls learned this week that the Bridge of Flowers opening would be delayed for "soil work" because the medium used last year "did not support plant growth." As a Cornell graduate in floriculture and ornamental horticulture with 40 years of landscape experience, I must be clear: this is not a minor seasonal mishap. It is a predictable, expensive consequence of a $3.2 million renovation managed by a private, self-perpetuating subcommittee that operates without public oversight, term limits, or accountability.
Seven weeks ago, I called for modernizing the Bridge’s governance. The response from Chair Annette Szpila and her committee has been total radio silence. In civic management, silence is not neutral; it is an admission that the current structure is indefensible.Why Is a Volunteer Speaking for the Committee?In nearly every prior article about the Bridge of Flowers—including coverage of the $3.2 million renovation and the 2025 ribbon-cutting—Chair Annette Szpila or other committee leaders have been directly quoted. Yet in the April 2 Recorderarticle announcing the soil replacement and delayed planting, the chairs are conspicuously absent. Instead, volunteer Jorie MacLeod was put forward to explain that "truckloads of dirt have to be moved in and out" and that the committee is "just playing it by ear and keeping it positive."
One must ask: Why is a non-committee member delivering the public statement on a significant technical and financial setback? It appears the leadership has deliberately chosen to shield itself from direct quotation—and any admission of responsibility for the horticultural decisions made during the renovation. This tactic of using proxies while staying silent echoes disturbing patterns of institutional self-protection seen in this very valley a century ago.The Material FailureThe current "soil shipment" is the physical smoking gun of institutional failure. Using 100% organic matter as planting soil on a prominent public garden like this contradicts established best practices for drainage and long-term plant health on a structure of this type. Now the public sees truckloads of corrective dirt being moved at a cost that remains hidden. Who is paying for this rework—contractors, or the taxpayers of the Shelburne Falls Fire District who were never invited into the closed-door decisions that produced it?The Pattern of Erasure and EvasionThis technical failure and institutional silence continue a longer pattern. In 2020, a social media petition accused me of disrespecting a moment of silence and called for the removal of my art from town, stating that "our town deserves better" and "the black community deserves better." Instead of defending a long-time contributor or seeking the full facts, the committee responded by stapling a laminated photocopy to a wooden fence to "honor the spirit" of the petition.
That paper was placed directly above the Pothole Fountain—a piece I designed and mason Paul Forth built. During construction, Paul proposed filling gaps in the pavers with polished Black Stones in the shape of Africa as a permanent, structural tribute to his biracial daughters. I approved it as designer. When the Recorder published a photo of the committee’s laminated sheet, the image was cropped to exclude the Black Stones at the base.
The hypocrisy runs deeper. In 2002, I assisted Paul Forth in the precise alignment and permanent anchoring of the bronze plaques at the Sojourner Truth Memorial in Northampton. The committee contacted the petition’s creator to help communicate the anti-racism message, yet never once reached out to the artist who helped anchor Sojourner Truth’s legacy to the soil of this valley.
At the August 2025 ribbon-cutting following the renovation, the absence of a basic PA system drowned out speeches—a metaphor for the committee’s approach to public input. When I later approached Chair Szpila seeking reconciliation, she denied the public record to my face, claiming "nothing was written like that" regarding the documented 2020 events.The Moral Debt of Institutional BetrayalThis is not merely a technical dispute over soil or signage; it is about the human cost of institutional cowardice. In 2020, the committee allowed a social media-driven fiasco to wreck my professional reputation and personal life. Instead of standing by the facts or the long-time artist who anchored the valley’s history, they chose the path of least resistance: public erasure and performative gestures.
To this day, there has been no accountability for that betrayal. When Chair Szpila tells me to my face that "nothing was written like that," she is attempting to gaslight the public record. Before the Bridge of Flowers can truly "open" for 2026, the committee—and by extension, the Fire District—owes a public apology for the 2020 character assassination that was allowed to stand in place of the truth.
The tactics feel all too familiar in this valley. The very structure now called the Bridge of Flowers was once part of the Greenfield & Turners Falls trolley system — a public conveyance that, like many streetcars and trolleys across Massachusetts and the North in the early 20th century, enforced exclusion with practices such as "blacks to the back" seating. In 1924, during the second Ku Klux Klan’s northern migration, fiery crosses burned on the hills around Shelburne Falls, including on the Buckland side of the Deerfield River and one reportedly rafted downstream from above the iron bridge. The Klan relied on closed fraternal networks, proxies, symbolic gestures, and a culture of silence to exert influence while avoiding direct accountability.
Today, the Bridge of Flowers Committee echoes those exclusionary patterns on the very same former trolley bridge: radio silence from leaders, a volunteer spokesperson, cropped photos that erase inconvenient contributions (including my Black Stones tribute), and performative inclusion that masks gatekeeping. It is disturbing to see a public asset born from a transportation system that once relegated people to the back now managed with similar tactics of erasure and control.Reconciliation cannot happen in the dark, and a garden built on a foundation of professional erasure will never truly bloom.Time for the Fire District to Reclaim Its AssetThe Bridge of Flowers belongs to the public, not a private club. While the committee enjoys national recognition, such as Yankee Magazine’s recent praise for Shelburne Falls, the very soil under their management fails—at public expense and with no transparency.
It is time for the Shelburne Falls Fire District to reclaim its asset and implement:
- Professional Stewardship: Management accountable to the Fire District and the public.
- Democratic Safeguards: Mandatory open meetings and published minutes (M.G.L. c. 30A).
- Term Limits: An end to decades-long, self-perpetuating tenures.
The Black Stones on the bridge and the Sojourner Truth plaques remain permanent reminders of real inclusion. No amount of editorial cropping, volunteer spokespeople, or institutional silence can erase them. When those responsible choose evasion over accountability, they are no longer protecting a garden—they are gatekeeping a false narrative while the soil itself testifies to the failure.
John F. Sendelbach 2026
