u/Saturdayjava

Hey everyone!
I noticed there wasn't a dedicated space just to reminisce about growing up, living, or working in Torrington. So, I decided to change that and create
r/Torringtonhistory
Whether you still live in the 06790, moved away years ago, or just love Litchfield Hills history, this is a place to share:
📸 Vintage photos of downtown, Main Street, and local neighborhoods.
🍔 Nostalgic food spots (Who remembers your absolute favorite long-closed restaurant or bakery?).
🎭 Landmarks & Lore (Stories about the Warner Theatre, old high school rivalries, or classic town events).
💬 "Only in Torrington" moments and memories.
We already have a few threads started to kick things off. If you have any old photos sitting on your phone or a great story from back in the day, come drop a post and help us build the community!
Check us out here: r/torringtonhistory

Hello everyone,
We’d love to introduce ourselves and hear honest feedback from fellow business owners and entrepreneurs.
We are Saturday Java Coffee Company, a small Connecticut coffee company built around a dark gothic identity. Every decision we make—from our branding and artwork to our coffee names and atmosphere—is designed to create an experience that feels mysterious, haunting, and unforgettable.
Our motto is simple:
Coffee To Die For.
We locally roast, flavor, grind, and package our coffee in small batches because we believe every bag should reflect the quality and care that went into creating it.
As a growing business, we’re always looking for ways to improve. Whether it’s our website, customer experience, marketing, social media, or overall business strategy, we’d genuinely appreciate constructive criticism. Fresh perspectives are often the best way to grow.
One thing we’d like to mention respectfully is that our gothic identity and our emblem are the foundation of who we are. While we’re always open to improving nearly every aspect of the business, our brand’s dark aesthetic is something we’re committed to keeping. We’d love advice on how to strengthen that identity rather than move away from it.
If you have a few minutes, we’d truly appreciate your thoughts on what we’re doing well—and, more importantly, where we can do better.
Thank you for taking the time to help us continue building something unique.
Saturday Java Coffee Company
Coffee To Die For
SaturdayJavaCo.com

People often say, “If a parent really wanted to see their kids, they would have fought harder.” I want to share why I don’t think it’s that simple.
This is a long story, but it’s one I’ve carried for years.
Years ago, after a disagreement with my stepfather’s family, I moved in with my girlfriend, “Karen.” Not long afterward, we found out she was pregnant with our first child. Karen lived with her parents, Kevin and Virginia.
They wanted to turn their spare bedroom into a nursery and have the baby raised there. I agreed, and I moved in with my grandmother instead, believing it was the right thing to do for everyone.
When my son was born, I wanted to stay overnight at the hospital with Karen and our baby. Virginia told me it wasn’t necessary and that I should just go home. Looking back, that moment has always stayed with me.
As the years went on, I wanted us to get our own place and start our own family life. It never seemed to happen. Karen and the kids continued living with her parents, and I often felt like I was trying to build a family while decisions were being made by four adults instead of two.
When our daughter was born, the situation was the same.
One thing that always hurt me was that the kids were encouraged to call me by my first name instead of “Dad.” Even when I came to pick them up or visited, I was introduced by my first name. That may seem like a small thing to some people, but it wasn’t small to me.
The holidays were another constant source of conflict. I wanted to bring the kids to see my side of the family, just as they spent time with Karen’s family. If we stayed too long at one of my family gatherings, I’d get a phone call asking why we weren’t back yet. When I suggested her parents come to my family’s house so everyone could celebrate together, I was told, “That’s not our problem.”
Over the years, our relationship became unstable. More than once, Karen would break up with me shortly before Christmas, after I’d already bought gifts, only to ask me to get back together after New Year’s. It became an exhausting cycle.
I also volunteered with my son’s Boy Scout troop. There were times I’d drive 30 minutes to a meeting, only to receive a call minutes before it started telling me they weren’t coming. By then, I’d already made the trip. It felt like my time—and my effort to be involved—didn’t matter.
In 2013, everything came to a head. We had a major argument. I told Karen I felt like I wasn’t just dating her—I was trying to keep three people happy: her, Kevin, and Virginia. We broke up.
She later asked if we could get back together, but by then I felt emotionally exhausted and said no.
Since then, I have spent years in court trying to have a relationship with my children. I’ve hired attorneys. I’ve paid child support every single week. At one point, child support enforcement even made an error in calculating my payments, creating even more financial and legal stress.
Despite everything, I still wasn’t able to have the relationship with my children that I wanted. When they saw me in public, they called me by my first name instead of “Dad.”
I’m not writing this to attack anyone or ask for sympathy. I’m writing it because people are quick to say, “You should have fought harder.”
Sometimes people do fight.
Sometimes they spend years in court.
Sometimes they pay every dollar they’re ordered to pay.
Sometimes they hire lawyers, attend hearings, and never give up.
And sometimes, despite all of that, they still lose precious years with their children.
In my opinion, children deserve meaningful relationships with both parents whenever it’s safe and possible. I believe parenting shouldn’t become a contest over who has more influence, more money, or more control. Both parents matter.
If you’ve been through something similar, I’d be interested in hearing your story.

I was born and raised in Torrington, Connecticut, and some of my favorite childhood memories are of the Fourth of July.
Every year, we’d watch the fireworks launched from Fuessenich Park. Most of the time, we’d stand in the old Torrington Company parking lot. Because of the trees, we could only see about 60% of the show, but it was still a family tradition we looked forward to every summer.
Then came July 4, 1990.
That year, my dad decided we should go down to Fuessenich Park and watch the fireworks from there. The show went on as usual, and everything seemed perfect—until the grand finale. One of the fireworks racks tipped over and began firing directly into the crowd.
I still remember seeing people running in every direction, trying to dodge the exploding fireworks. It was something I’ll never forget.
Thankfully, our family was on the opposite side of the park and wasn’t in the line of fire. Since we only lived within walking distance, we headed home. We barely said a word on the walk back. We were all too stunned by what we had just witnessed.
Now that my father has passed away, I can tell a story that always makes me smile.
The Fourth of July was a big deal in our family. One year, my dad built a firework of his own. I asked him what it was, and he casually said, “An M-1000.” At the end of our street was a swinging metal fence. He put the firework inside the fence, lit the fuse, and we ran home—about seven houses away.
When it exploded, it shook our house.
To this day, I don’t think it was really an M-1000. I’m pretty sure it was homemade.
As the years went on and aerial fireworks became illegal, my dad got creative. He would fuse together dozens of ground fountains and sprinklers, creating backyard fireworks displays that lasted 15 minutes or more. Family would gather around to watch his creations, and those nights became some of my favorite memories.
This Fourth of July, as we celebrate with family and friends, please remember to enjoy the fireworks safely. They create incredible memories—but they also deserve our respect.
Have a safe and happy Fourth of July.

My family and I have been devoted NHRA fans since 1986. Our first race was one we'll never forget—the day "Big Daddy" Don Garlits' dragster lifted and blew over. From that moment, the sound, speed, and spectacle of drag racing became part of who we are.

Over the years, we've traveled to many legendary tracks, including Epping, Reading, Lebanon Valley, and the old Englishtown. We've witnessed unforgettable moments from the stands, including the day Johnny West struck the wall and rode it nearly to the trees. Experiences like those remind you just how powerful and unforgiving these machines can be.

To us, NHRA has always been more than a motorsport. There is something almost primal about standing at the edge of the track, feeling the ground shake beneath your feet as nitro-powered monsters thunder into the darkness. The smell of fuel, the roar of the engines, and the history of the sport create an atmosphere unlike anything else.

Today, our journey has taken an unexpected turn. Through our gothic-themed coffee business, we've been fortunate enough to become involved with the racing community in new ways. One of the highlights was having the opportunity to climb onto the wing of a Top Fuel dragster—something that would have seemed impossible to the kid who first walked through the gates back in 1986.

We're looking forward to connecting with fellow NHRA fans, sharing stories, learning from the community, and celebrating the sport that has captivated us for four decades.

See you at the track.

Today, we attended a car show, semi-truck gathering, and vendor event that had tremendous potential, but unfortunately suffered from planning issues that made it difficult for both vendors and attendees.

The event was held in a parking lot at a baseball stadium. The classic cars, trucks, and vendors were all placed together in one lot, while spectators were directed to another parking area on the opposite side of the baseball field, where a separate event was also taking place. Both events were forced to share the same spectator parking area, creating congestion and long walks for guests who wanted to visit the cars, trucks, and vendors.

What made the situation frustrating was that there appeared to be plenty of available parking surrounding the event itself. A simple reshuffling of vendor, vehicle, and spectator placement could have made the experience far more welcoming and accessible. When visitors must cross a sea of asphalt to reach an event, many simply choose not to make the journey.

The weather added another challenge. Strong winds swept through the grounds, and several vendors lost tents, displays, and products. No organizer can command the skies or silence the wind, and we fully understand that. However, thoughtful planning can help reduce the burden on vendors who invest significant time, money, and effort into attending these events.

We are not writing this to condemn anyone. We are merely humble merchants of coffee offering friendly advice from the shadows. Event organizers carry a difficult burden, and we appreciate those who bring communities together. We simply believe that with better logistics and a stronger focus on attendee flow, this gathering could have transformed from a wandering procession of lost souls into a thriving marketplace filled with life.

We hope future events learn from these challenges. Better parking, easier access, and a more customer-friendly layout benefit everyone—the organizers, the vendors, the exhibitors, and most importantly, the guests who make the event possible.

May future gatherings guide travelers to the marketplace rather than leaving them wandering the asphalt wastelands in search of it.

I'm looking for some honest advice on what a reasonable price is for a website for my small business.

I'm not talking about a simple page with my logo and contact info. I want good text, strong SEO, quality photos, and an overall design that fits my brand. I know large agencies can charge thousands (or tens of thousands), but I'm a very small business and that's just not realistic.

My business is a gothic coffee company. I roast in small batches, then flavor, grind, and bag the coffee myself. The entire theme is dark and gothic—souls, zombies, darkness, crypts, haunted forests, that kind of aesthetic. I want the website to feel immersive, not like a generic coffee shop.

Right now, I mostly sell at craft fairs and local events, but I'd really like to grow my online sales.

For those of you who have hired someone or build websites professionally:

- What's a fair price for something like this?

- Should I expect to pay extra for SEO and custom design?

- Is it worth hiring a freelancer instead of a big agency?

I'd appreciate any advice or experiences you've had. Thanks!

Hello everyone,

We’re a small-batch coffee company that has been quietly working in the shadows for some time. We’ve poured our energy into sourcing quality beans, refining our craft, and building a brand that embraces darker aesthetics and a gothic sensibility. While we’ve gained a loyal handful of customers, we’re struggling to step out from the obscurity that seems to swallow so many small businesses.

We’ve tried Facebook, Instagram, and other social platforms, but our message often feels like a raven’s cry disappearing into a storm. The digital landscape is crowded, and despite our efforts, it can seem as though we’re wandering through a fog of larger brands with far greater reach and resources.

Our goal isn’t to become another mass-market coffee company. We want to attract customers who value quality, craftsmanship, atmosphere, and identity. We believe there are upper-middle-class consumers who appreciate premium products with character and story, but we’re uncertain how best to reach them.

We’re hoping to hear from those who have navigated similar roads:

•	How did you pull your brand from the shadows and into the public eye?

•	What marketing channels actually delivered meaningful growth?

•	How do you reach customers who are willing to invest in premium products and unique experiences?

•	Have events, partnerships, subscriptions, content marketing, or paid advertising helped illuminate the path?

•	What costly mistakes or dead ends should we avoid?

At times it feels as though we’re tending a lantern in the dark, determined not to let the flame die, but unsure how to make its light visible beyond the surrounding mist.

We’re not searching for shortcuts or miracle solutions. We’re looking for practical advice, hard-earned lessons, and strategies that can help a small independent brand carve its mark into an increasingly crowded world.

Any guidance would be greatly appreciated.