blogsNH - Monadnock region - Comments

Dunkin' Donuts Latte

mommeex4 — Fri, 3 Oct 2008 09:23:17 -0400

As a recent employee of Dunkin' Donuts, I feel the need to protect their integrity. So let it be know that Dunkin' Donuts Lattes are made from freshly brewed espresso and truely steamed milk. This will account for some of the long waits at the Drive-Through lane.

I can't say I recall the

Terri Oberg — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 10:34:08 -0400

I can't say I recall the moment I became a New Englander. For a long time after moving here with my family I was filled with bitterness and unhappiness. It didn't help that in typical New England fashion, we were not welcome with open arms and a cheerful welcome wagon lady akin to a Stepford wife. For the longest time, we lived in a house referred to as "the McKenna Place" as though we had somehow scored some sacred ground. Hopefully after 30 years living in the same house, my parents have somehow been able to gain rightful ownership of it in accordance to the "townies". It would be nice to hear it referred to now as "the Oberg Place".

I left New Hampshire for a time while I was married. It was okay with me at the time because like all children, I couldn't wait to get as far away as possible from my hometown. But when it came time to decide where to go when I abruptly left my husband, I could think of nowhere I wanted to run but "home", back to the little New England town that I had once felt ailenated by.

I am 40-something years old now and live in a different little New England community, but I still feel a very real sense of being "home" when I go back to New London to visit my folks.

I can think of nowhere else I would want to live but New England. There is nothing like the change in seasons, the real sense of community (even in a bigger community like Concord), and true apple cider on a crisp fall day.

The day my parents and I became New Englanders

Ken Braiterman — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 18:28:14 -0400

My parents moved to Henniker in 1973 to teach at New England College. They were shunned by the town as outsiders, and by their faculty colleagues because they were chosen by the college president, and the faculty hated the president.

A faculty member accused my father of faking his credentials, a capital crime in academia. My father threatened to sue the man for slander, and invited him to prove the charge or shut up and apoligize in public. He got his apology, and one lifelong enemy. The rest of the faculy came around when they saw what nice people and good teachers my parents were.

My parents became townies in an unusual way. Their woodstove was smouldering inside the walls for several days out of sight behind the brick hearth. They were out of town, but the housesitter felt the bricks getting hotter, and called the fire department a few minutes before the house burned down. Putting it out was still a simple matter for the volunteer fire department.

For some reason, my parents noticed a marked change in the way the townies treated them. The volunteer firemen saved their house from destruction, and somehow that made my parents one of them. It's a piece of New Hampshire psychology I don't understand to this day.

I came to Henniker five years after my parents to recover from a catastrophic illness. I'd been living in Manhattan on my own for nearly 10 years, and what 29-year-old wants to move back with his parents. I was also a Manhattan snob, who thought the world ended when you left the island. I was sure my life was over.

But as Robert Frost said, "Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in."

Two years later, I had done a professional job successfully and was writing for the local weekly newspaper, and I had friends. But I kept the promise I made to myself to get out of there as soon as I was able.

I went to graduate school at the University of North Carolina. I came home for Christmas six months later, and everybody -- my friends around town, and the people I had worked with -- treated me like I was home. "When did you get back? What have you been doing? How long are you staying?"

I was 31 years old, and no one had ever treated me like I was home before. Before I left, I had no idea anyone cared that I was there or that I'd left. I did not understand that New Hampahire people accept you after a while, but they don't tell you until you leave and come back. I stayed home,did my graduate work at the UNH Writer's Program, and started writing for newspapers. I've never regretted it.

The Last Resort....The Eagles

Scott Ives — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 16:41:43 -0400

Whenever you call someplace paradise...Lookout!

She came from Providence,
the one in Rhode Island
Where the old world shadows hang
heavy in the air
She packed her hopes and dreams
like a refugee
Just as her father came across the sea

She heard about a place people were smilin'
They spoke about the red man's way,
and how they loved the land
And they came from everywhere
to the Great Divide
Seeking a place to stand
or a place to hide

Down in the crowded bars,
out for a good time,
Can't wait to tell you all,
what it's like up there
And they called it paradise
I don't know why
Somebody laid the mountains low
while the town got high

Then the chilly winds blew down
Across the desert
through the canyons of the coast, to
the Malibu
Where the pretty people play,
hungry for power
to light their neon way
and give them things to do

Some rich men came and raped the land,
Nobody caught 'em
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus,
people bought 'em
And they called it paradise
The place to be
They watched the hazy sun, sinking in the sea

You can leave it all behind
and sail to Lahaina
just like the missionaries did, so many years ago
They even brought a neon sign: "Jesus is coming"
Brought the white man's burden down
Brought the white man's reign

Who will provide the grand design
What is yours and what is mine
'Cause there is no more new frontier
We have got to make it here

We satisfy our endless needs and
justify our bloody deeds,
in the name of destiny and the name
of God

And you can see them there,
On Sunday morning
They stand up and sing about
what it's like up there
They call it paradise
I don't know why
You call someplace paradise,
kiss it goodbye

But..

Jehardy — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 14:08:17 -0400

As Gordon mentions, it starts with the "discarded foliage".

So true.. Intelligent planning

Jehardy — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 13:35:35 -0400

Unfortunately Scott, that doesn't happen, especially in Concord. The Planning board has allowed about anything be plopped anywhere in some neighborhoods, in some cases is just doesn't fit. If you're in an older, established neighborhood, your probably pretty safe, if you're surrounded by any woods you do not own you could be in serious trouble. Some day, you'll look out and won't even recognize where you live anymore.

The neighborhood is forever changed with no ability to regain what is lost. I guess I'm still a bit bitter about it.

And of course, they'll sell it on the promise that it's "good" for your tax base, and will actually make your taxes stay lower. Then they realize within the year.. OH! We need a bigger school, another bus to pick up those 87 new kids on one street, more police, EMTs.. fire service, SWAT (Ha, ha) on and on.. Whoops, no savings there! Wish I was kidding, really.

That just cost you more. Nevermind your peaceful little community is ruined as well.

Used Correctly...

Scott Ives — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 12:51:29 -0400

A growth ordinance can be a valuable tool to help a community plan for the increased need for services and infrastructure. Unfortunately, some, misuse this useful tool as a method for keeping people out. This is not done with evil intent but usually inspired by the idea that if you make it hard for affordable housing units to be built where you live, you will limit the number of children moving in and thereby reduce the expense of education in the town.

It sounds good until you start to examine some of the problems towns face as they age. All towns need new people to fill the many important tasks most citizens need to have done. Fire fighters, EMTs, teachers, transfer station workers, and the list goes on, without the influx of younger people in the community these jobs become difficult if not next to impossible to fill.

We all want the things we love the most about the towns we live in to continue on into eternity(at least our eternity) but growth and there is no reason why towns cannot intelligently plan for it. If we wish to remain viable and healthy places to live we must invite younger families just as we were once welcomed ourselves.

Scott

Not planning at All..

Jehardy — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 19:43:13 -0400

Gordon,

You're another who's blogs I always enjoy but haven't commented before. I do feel your concern, and I'll try to be brief. HA!! For my husband's and my own experience, all I can say is we lived in a beautiful neighborhood on the Concord Heights, surrounded by woods.. beautiful that is until (and this is just the start) - a development was put in that just forever changed and ultimately ruined the heart of the community.

Of course, we should have known better living on the Heights in Concord with a postage stamp of a parcel ourselves. Still, you don't expect for the community to become something you don't even recognise, or can't even tolerate.

NEW Residents think they own the whole neighborhood and respecting your privacy, property or need to sleep at night = not important.

We were finally driven out. Bottom line. One of our well meaning (old) neighbors told us to "just try and look the other way - that way you won't have trouble."

Pardon my swearing on this blog, look the other way, my ass! My husband came home one Friday night at the end of August 2005, and said "we need to talk!" How scary those words can be when you're not sure why..

I braced myself as he asked.. "Why are we still living here?" I said, we are living in your family's homestead, where we planned to live out the rest of our lives, other than that, I have NOTHING! He said, "it's time and I'm ready!" I knew he meant it. I'd been "ready" for three years. When it's not what you signed on for anymore, it's time to reevaluate. We were lucky, when we set the wheels in motion it happened so fast, our world was spinning. (Along with the whole, Oh My God, what have we done?? feeling)..

Sure, our new place isn't perfect - but we have wonerful neighbors - everyone respects each other. We have peace and quiet and can sleep at night. Imagine that?

Gordon, this is a harsh contrast of what you're feeling, but we're all headed there if growth isn't managed, and people who move here to "get away from that they are mving from" can't learn to respect their new surroundings and neighborhoods as they move further north.. to get way from it all..

50 years from now, I fear what our NH advantage will be. Glad I'll have moved on to greener pastures. OOOYY.

What an outlook.. We live in Canterbury, WE LOVE IT, and pray it's peace and beauty doesn't change too much. It would just be a crime.

The good news, not a single regret. To Quote the Rolling Stones, "Thank you, Jesus, thank you Lord!" (Far Away Eyes -Some Girls)

pumpelly cave

trevorking — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 06:43:58 -0400

any information on whereabouts of

Mike Goldman's Drugstore

debnavas — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 12:07:14 -0400

Bravo Gordon, I thoroughly enjoyed your blog about Peterborough in the mid '70s, having lived there at that time and on the brink of major life changes myself, as was the town. For me there was a another agent of change in P'boro that affected me most deeply. It was Mike Goldman's drugstore, which occupied the space roughly where the bank offices are now on Main Street.

I visited Mike's drugstore from 1971 through 1976 (until he became too ill to work), ostensibly to pick up various prescriptions for my three young children when they needed them - but more often for the camaraderie, the always interesting and provocative conversations that spontaneously happened around Mike's coffeepot. I met so many interesting people there -- including a number of MacDowell Colony residents, Gov. Walter Peterson, Art and R. M. Eldredge who held wonderful jazz concerts in their barn, as well as an oddball assortment of like-minded townfolk and others passing through who created a small, ever-changing, subversive community of questioners, agitators, art lovers and artists, Democrats all in a Republican stronghold -- a haven at that time in my life as a stranger in what then seemed to me a closed, conservative, propriety-serving town.

I would come to regard Peterborough very differently, revel in the Folkway's nouvelle cuisine, and absorb computer know-how at BYTE and thereby launch a durable career throughout my 38 years spent in and around the Monadnock region, my home. How I came to love and make my home here is another tale, as you are wont say, but one whose beginning and circuitous plot started with the heady brew served by Mike Goldman in the rarified atmosphere around his drugstore table. Is there anyone else who remembers those times?