Turtle Crossing Signs Go Up on Montague City Road — Thanks to Kids, Locals, and a Lot of Heart

Turtle crossing season hit Montague again. And once more, the shells started showing up on the road. Some made it. Too many didn’t.

Melissa Winters had seen enough. She runs a business nearby, and last year, she watched helplessly as turtles got crushed trying to cross Montague City Road. She even stopped her car to help a few — but the ditch on the side? A graveyard of little shells.

She couldn’t let it slide. So she went to the Selectboard and spoke up.

That one voice turned into something bigger. Planning Director Maureen Pollock heard her. And instead of just saying “We’ll look into it,” she actually did something.

She called the local school. Talked to the Discovery Center. Pulled in RiverCulture and even the state’s conservation department. Then she asked a group of second graders at Sheffield Elementary to draw turtles.

They didn’t just draw. They delivered.

Ten unique turtle signs — based on the kids’ drawings — now line both sides of Montague City Road between numbers 212 and 222. The signs shout one simple thing: Slow down. They’re crossing.

This isn’t about cute art. It’s about survival.

Painted turtles. Snapping turtles. Box turtles. Every spring, they crawl out from the wetlands to lay eggs. But that road slices right through their path. And here’s the thing — when turtles get scared, they freeze. So they wait. And wait. Until it’s too late.

Winters saw it all. “They’d sit on the edge, waiting,” she said. “But once they started crossing, you knew what was coming. The small ones didn’t stand a chance.”

Now, at least, they’ve got a fighting shot.

Kids drew the signs. Adults made them real. Drivers can’t miss them. And somewhere in all this, a few turtles might actually make it to the other side.

The town even made a web page to teach people how to help if they see a turtle on the road.

The signs come down after the season ends, but the message sticks. Maybe this becomes a thing in other parts of Montague too.

One local summed it up best: slowing down for ten seconds might save a life. A tiny, quiet, ancient life. One that never asked for roads, but still has to cross them.