Blunt, charming, she reigned in Chester for decades
Barbara Snow Delaney’s reign over the town of Chester, her adopted home, lasted for nearly five decades. She was the founder of its historical society, the unofficial greeter of newcomers, a destination for aspiring Democratic politicians, an expert on antiques, a philanthropist, a hostess extraordinaire and a perennial volunteer.
Together with her late husband, Edmund T. Delaney, she had her finger in nearly every aspect of Chester life.
“In a lot of ways, they were Mr. and Mrs. Chester,” said Lary Bloom, a Chester resident who wrote for The Courant.
“The ultimate can-doer, follow your dreams, passions and beliefs,” said Jon Joslow, who served with Barbara on the town’s board of finance. He was a stalwart Republican; she was “a staunch Democrat, educated and articulate.” They got along famously and remained great friends. “We were in violent agreement,” he said. “She had values and ethics that resonated beyond politics. It had to do with what was right.”
Barbara Snow Delaney died on March 10 at home after several years of declining health. She was 94.
She was a trailblazing career woman in New York, where she rose through the editorial department of Antiques magazine to become its managing editor from 1953 to 1968, culminating in a special issue on the Shaker art, faith and culture. She also worked with curators from Williamsburg, Va., and Winterthur, Del., on special issues and publications about those historic towns and was on the board of the New York City Municipal Arts Society.
She met Edmund Delaney, a successful New York lawyer, at a dinner party and they were married in 1965. They moved to Chester in 1970, whereupon Barbara Delaney almost immediately set about organizing the town’s first historical society. With typical energy and determination, she oversaw the renovation of the town’s ancient Meeting House. Years later, seeking a home for the historical society, Barbara helped underwrite the acquisition and renovation of an old mill.
The Delaneys lived in a 10room Colonial built in 1815, near the center of town, which they decorated in period furniture. It was the site of the infamous Monday night martini get-togethers, many dinner parties and countless celebrations of all kinds in the nearby barn. They enjoyed costume parties and hosted themed events, like a medieval evening or a royal night when they dressed up as King and Queen. Edmund, who had switched from business law to estate planning and trust and estates work in an Essex law firm, would often wear a kilt — even to a Veterans’ Day parade.
Every Delaney event featured animated discussions about politics, the arts, antiques, or the newest arrivals in town. Despite his success, Edmund was a modest person who drove a Nash, sometimes shopped at thrift stores, and stocked inexpensive wine and spirits for his parties. Edmund, who died in 2000, leaves a daughter, Topher Delaney, from an earlier marriage. His son Nicholas Delaney, also from his first marriage, has died.
The arrival of the Delaneys came as Chester was becoming known as a charming village populated by sophisticated artists and writers. The civil rights leader and federal judge Constance Baker Motley lived there for many years and was a good friend of Barbara’s. So did the conceptual artist Sol LeWitt, who moved in some years after the Delaneys.
The construction of Route 9 a few decades earlier had made the town more accessible, and it outgrew its derogatory nickname, “Dog Town.” Delaney’s interest in town history — she and her husband wrote many books about early American history, houses and furniture, among other things — sparked an interest in the preservation and admiration of its 18th century buildings. “She inspired a whole town to get involved,” said Peter Good, a Chester artist and graphic designer. “She was mild mannered but had an ability for persuasion.” She served as one of the incorporators of the Connecticut Trust for Historic Preservation and wrote the text for the historical markers in Chester.
Barbara’s passions often entailed getting others on board with her projects, and she was not shy about asking for help, said Good, whose talents designing programs and brochures were often sought. “She was charming and relentless,” he recalled. “The phone calls would come in. I would say, ‘We have to say no.’” But he rarely did. “I would get off the phone and say, ‘But this is such a good idea.’ We were part of building this community spirit.”
Delaney could be as blunt as she was charming. “She could be very cranky and bite your head off,” said Bloom, “but she was also a very loyal friend.” When Bloom told her about several books on which he was working, her response was, “Who’d want to read that?”
Delaney was also modest and not prone to flaunt her background. When Bloom and his wife, Suzanne Levine, were helping her write her memoirs, they came across a picture of Eleanor Roosevelt holding court on the porch of a rural cottage surrounded by a bevy of young women. One woman looked remarkably like a younger Barbara, who offhandedly acknowledged that it was her in the picture, but thought it unnecessary or irrelevant to describe the experience. “It was no big deal,” recalled Bloom. Campbell Hudson, an Essex lawyer who worked earlier in his career with Edmund, said, “she had strong opinions, and she got a lot done — not just by being sweet. She was persistent.”
Delaney loved being well informed, read three daily newspapers and kept up with politics. “She was a flaming liberal Democrat and a voracious consumer of news,” said Mary Devins, a longtime friend. “Everybody who was anybody in Connecticut politics stopped by on Gorham Road,” where the Delaneys lived. They gave parties for former Sen. Chris Dodd and for former presidential hopeful Howard Dean, as well as other Democratic hopefuls.
Delaney also took a great interest in Connecticut College, her alma mater, and endowed a traveling scholarship for students who were involved in projects that combine liberal arts with international travel. “It was an incredible gift we can offer these kids,” said Devins, the associate director of the college’s Center for International Studies and Liberal Arts. “She loved hearing from the kids, meeting them, writing them, being engaged.”
Delaney joined Judy Joslow to run Chester’s first art gallery, the Wall Focus Gallery, and served on the boards of various town and area agencies, including the presidency of Rockfall Foundation, devoted to environmental education.
Barbara Delaney was born Barbara Snow in Atlanta, Georgia, on Sept. 3, 1923. Her father, Raymond C. Snow, was a well-known architect, but after her parents divorced, she moved with her mother and younger brother Raymond C. Snow Jr. to Hartford in 1933. She graduated from Bulkeley High School and was still 16 when she enrolled in Connecticut College, from which she graduated with honors in 1944. She is survived by her brother, her stepdaughter, Topher Delaney, and five step-grandchildren.
“She was dedicated and passionate about the idea of the common good and had so many ideas that were worthwhile and would enrich Chester in so many ways,” said Good.