Threshold Singers at Groton Hill Music

05/05/2026

Recently, 20 of our very own Threshold Singers joined Threshold chapters from across Massachusetts, Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, and Connecticut for the 3-day New England Regional Threshold Gathering! Threshold founder Kate Munger was the featured guest, sharing new songs, practical training, and her unique brand of wisdom.

Threshold Singers at Groton Hill Administrator Suzanne Buell was an integral part of the Leaders Planning Team, Music Director Charlotte Russell presented a workshop on Vocal Problem-Solving, and member Naomi Katz Mintz (also on the Leaders Planning Team) serves as the New England Region Coordinator and its Liaison to Threshold Choir International. TCI Board Co-Chair Bridget Baker also attended, and remarked on the strong collaborative spirit of our NE Region!

Learn more about the Threshold Singers at Groton Hill:
grotonhill.org/community-engagement/threshold-singers-at-groton-hill

04/21/2026

41 likes, 5 comments. "Threshold Choir Fall 2006"

04/21/2026

04/21/2026

A beautiful video from our newest Threshold Choir in New England.

A five minute mini documentary about the Threshold Choir. Their mission is to bring comfort to people nearing the end of life.

03/14/2026

Just keep singing, dear ones♥️

12/22/2025

Celebrate the return of the light.

11/21/2025

Our choir going strong since 2007, thanks to our founding member, Pam Krolczyk Espinosa.
Please reach out to me if you’d be interested in joining us in song, or if there is someone in your life that you think might benefit from our songs.

A worldwide movement to sing gentle songs to the dying provides comfort, peace and release to both the suffering and the singers

08/18/2025

“We Are the Bridge”
My name’s Richard. I’m 74. I sometimes think our generation is the bridge between two worlds — one made of dirt roads and handwritten letters, the other made of satellites and screens in our pockets.

I was born in a house without air conditioning. Summer meant open windows and the hum of a box fan. We knew the neighbors by name, and if your bike chain broke, you knocked on any door until someone found a wrench. We grew up on patience — waiting for the mail, waiting for the library to open, waiting for the radio to play our favorite song again.

Then the world sped up. Phones shrank, music became invisible, and the news didn’t take days to reach us — it arrived in our palms before we finished breakfast. We learned to type, to swipe, to tap. We learned to talk to machines and have them talk back. We learned… because we always had to.

We’ve seen milk delivered to the door in glass bottles, and we’ve scanned groceries without a cashier. We’ve dropped coins in payphones and made video calls across oceans. We’ve known the sound of silence — no buzzing notifications — and the sound of an entire world pinging at once.

Sometimes younger folks think we’re behind. But here’s what I know: our generation knows both worlds. We can plant tomatoes and write an email. We can tell a story without Google, and then fact-check ourselves with it. We know the weight of a handwritten letter because we’ve held it, and we know the reach of a message sent in seconds because we’ve pressed “send” and watched a reply arrive from thousands of miles away.

We are proof that you can change without losing yourself. That you can honor where you came from while learning where the world is going.

We’ve buried friends and welcomed grandchildren. We’ve watched diseases disappear and new ones arrive. We’ve known paper maps and GPS, postcards and emojis, patience and immediacy.

And maybe that’s our real gift — we carry the memory of a slower, quieter world, and the skills to navigate the fast, loud one. We can teach the young that not everything needs to happen instantly… and remind the old that it’s never too late to try something new.

We are the bridge. The middle chapter. The link between what was and what will be.