NEW LONDON — Ann Hammond didn’t believe in leftovers.
“She would cook everything from scratch, not out of a can,” said her daughter, Bebe Casey. “She never owned one piece of Tupperware because she made enough for everyone to eat.”
Hammond, better known as “Squidge,” died on Dec. 29, 2018, at 82. She was born on Feb. 15th, a birthday she shared with her husband, Frank Hammond. Except, as Frank Hammond pointed out, the year. He was born in 1933 and she in 1936.
The couple met on a blind date at a party in New York City after being set up by friends.
“We sort of looked at each other and we seemed to have a very decent first impression,” he recalled.
Then, the subject of their birthdays came up.
“She thought I was coming on,” Frank Hammond said with a laugh. “I finally had to bring out my driver’s license and my draft card to prove to her that I really was born on the 15th of February.”
After meeting Squidge in 1960, Hammond contacted his sister, Pat Hammond.
“My brother called me and said I met The One. I said ‘great what’s her name?’,” Pat Hammond said. When Frank Hammond replied with “Squidge,” Hammond had a brief laugh. “Everyone who knew my brother knew that they were perfect for each other.”
The nickname came from Squidge Hammond’s mother, who started calling her Squidge before she was born, and the name stuck.
The couple was married for 58 years. They moved to New London in 1963 so Frank Hammond could enter the teaching field.
“In the beginning, she had reservations about leaving the city,” Frank Hammond said, adding that she was born and raised in Westport, Conn., within a stone’s throw of New York City. Squidge was primarily raised by her grandparents.
“At first she was a little like ‘oh my gosh what have I done, where has he brought me?’ ” Casey said. “She made some wonderful lifetime loyal friends and loved the community aspect of being in a small town.”
It wasn’t long before the couple became stalwarts of the community. Frank Hammond took the helm at the Lake Sunapee Protective Association with his wife’s support as they ran it from a small office in their home.
“Someone had to keep the fire burning at home and that was Squidge,” longtime friend Nancy Dutton said.
Squidge also hosted countless dinner parties at their home, cognizant of every detail.
“She thought about it and it was all very deliberate,” Dutton said. “The table always looked beautiful.”
Even on nights when it was just family, Squidge Hammond would buy fresh ingredients for every meal.
“My dad would sit in the kitchen and they would share their day,” Casey said. “They would sit at the dining room table with candles lit every night.”
Squidge Hammond was also known as an astute listener and confidante.
“She had an instinct for being kind to people,” Frank Hammond said. “She didn’t judge folks on the spot.”
That extended to friends, family and strangers alike.
“She was a wonderful listener and empathetic,” Casey said. “She would always find the good in people.”
That extended to her job as the court clerk at the New London District Court, which she served for 20 years before retiring in 1997.
“She was very understanding with them,” recalled Judge Graham McSwiney, who Casey said was her mother’s favorite judge. “I think she worked hard and was successful at making them feel comfortable under the circumstances.”
That included some of the teenagers in town.
“They were more upset about facing my mother and disappointing her than facing the judge and telling their parents,” Casey said with a laugh.
The Hammond home was often a gathering spot for Bebe’s friends.
“She loved having the kids over to her house,” Dutton said. “Bebe learned to be a wonderful mother from her mother.”
Squidge Hammond had a sunny presence that extended to all those she came in contact with.
“She always giggled and such a great laugh,” Casey said. “She’d get everyone around her laughing.”
She also could state her disapproval with kindness.
“She didn’t beat about the bush,” Pat Hammond said. “At the same time she wasn’t rude, she was just very frank.”
Family was important to Squidge Hammond and she relished the time she spent with her two grandchildren. Family vacations were often to the ocean, which was one of her favorite places to be, Casey said.
Her sweetness and selflessness were evident even in her final months.
“She’d ask about you before she said a word about herself,” Dutton said. “She still was always reaching out to people.”
Liz Sauchelli can be reached at esauchelli@vnews.com or 603-727-3221.
