Chris Perry Column: A Unique Island Sisterhood

It’s a “secret” society that has been around for more than 150 years.

It’s entirely unsectarian in charter and generous in heart.

Its early members included a Hepsabeth A. Edwards, a Folger, a Baxter, a Macy, a Starbuck, a Swain, and a Coffin.

Its tradition continues today with a Cabral, a Glidden, a Grieder, a Coull, a Valero, a Bridier, an Ottison, a Holdgate, and a Hull, among its membership of directors.

Its direction and control have been almost exclusively female, but Henry Wyer’s bequest certainly helped.

And if I did not run into my good friend Trish Bridier at the landfill, I would have never learned about a unique island sisterhood “unconnected with anything else of the kind.”

It’s known as the Relief Association, and it is a truly iconic Nantucket entity incorporated under the laws of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts on December 23, 1874. Despite its longevity and unselfish generosity, very few people are familiar with the organization, and I think they like it that way. However, once directors Trish Bridier and Kate Glidden convinced the Association’s Board that their secret was “safe” with me, I was able to sit down and hear the Relief Association’s story.

Following its certificate of organization being issued, eight ladies met at the home of Mrs. David Edwards in January of 1875 with the sole purpose of “helping indigent, aged people in the midst and making their declining years more comfortable.” Even though the scope of the Relief Association’s goodwill has evolved over the years, its quiet, financial commitment to the local community has never wavered.

“It’s incredibly sensitive, as we do in-person deliveries. Oftentimes, people are alone, in bad health, and they invite us in. It is a different side of Nantucket that most people on-island never see. It’s not the amount that is handed out that is important, but the fact they know someone cares,” said Glidden, who has embraced the family tradition, remembering how her mom (Jean Egan) would silently disappear to attend meetings.

“Outside of some of our family members, no one really knows about the efforts of Relief Association,” said Bridier, who is about to celebrate her family’s 80th year of ownership of Murray’s Toggery Shop on Main Street.

Bridier, who often handles the deliveries along with Susan Ottison, added, “We focus on confidentiality. For example, if I happen to be heading up to Academy Hill, I want to make sure no one knows what I am doing. I simply hand over an envelope on behalf of the Association, and more often than not, it is very emotional. These people are so incredibly thankful even though we are only able to hand out $100 or $150, but it truly has an impact.”

Meeting with Glidden and Bridier proved to be an interesting dance between wanting to learn more about this elusive island society and politely being kept in the dark due to their commitment to anonymity. Without stepping over the line, I learned about the historic significance of past and present members of the Association who have served on or who are active members of various town boards and committees, such as Elder Services, the Salt Marsh Center, Rotary, and the Community Foundation For Nantucket. In those roles, directors become well-versed in the “subtleties of local island life,” and over the years, they have been able to target people who could use their monetary assistance.

With the Relief Association’s membership reading like a Who’s Who of local compassion, the wheels are set in motion at their quarterly meetings, vowing never to tell anyone who is being helped, knowing it is “a sum of money that will be used for their comfort. It is spiritual as well as financial help, and it continues our philosophy of doing good quietly.”

When asking for more names, roles, and details that members have played, I was quickly reminded that “this organization has a personal touch and has built success by staying under the radar. From the early days in the late 1800s right up through today, it is not about notoriety but about helping our Nantucket neighbors.”

The Relief Association has no annual fundraiser. It has no auction raising millions, no summer gala under the stars, no concert on the beach, no tent at Bartlett’s Farms, or dinner/dance at the club. In fact, dues were set at 25 cents over 150 years ago, and despite a motion to double the dues to 50 cents, the motion was unanimously defeated, keeping annual dues at 25 cents, where they are today.

But thanks to Hepsabeth Edwards and her court of eight friends, card parties and musicals were held starting in 1875 to raise seed money. In five years, the Nantucket ladies collected roughly $5,000, which produced their first monthly stipends of $2.00 that went to those less fortunate.

Over time, quiet fundraising efforts have taken place, and subtle reminders to some in the know, such as the Masons and the No. 4’s, have helped, but the bulk of the Relief Association’s money can be traced back to the estate of Henry Wyer.

Wyer was the owner of several buildings on Federal Street, and his will passed the life rights of those buildings to Miss Hannah Hatch and Mrs. Zetta Boyer. Eventually, two of the stores were sold in 1961 and the rest in 1969, providing value income for the Association.

Today, the principal of the Relief Association’s investments kicks off enough interest to cover roughly 25 monthly payments to well-deserving locals who could use a little help. Additionally, the directors annually award some “Christmas envelopes,” but all voting members must be in full agreement when deciding on the recipients.

As Trish reminded me, “The vote has to be all of us or none of us…”

I love this story.

I love the idea of a C note in an envelope being the difference in someone’s life when we have all become jaded to the idea of a “Nantucket Ten” being nothing more than tip money.

I love the anonymity of it.

I love Hepsabeth and her friends, and I wish I were a fly on their wall.

I love the visual dichotomy of today’s Nantucket, highlighted by one lavish summer fundraising extravaganza after another, compared to the directors holding firm at 25 cents for their annual dues.

I love the fact that Nantucket never ceases to amaze me, and just when I am about to explode over the traffic, scream about paying $6 for a lousy blueberry muffin, and shake my head at the polarizing politics that have divided this island, I stumble upon a story like the Relief Association.

I would like to think there is another Henry Wyer out there who is willing to steer some local real estate towards the Relief Association. Nevertheless, I am going to follow Hepsabeth’s lead. The next time I host a musical, I am going to find one of the 16 active Relief Association directors out there and hand them the proceeds from the show.