A Memoir

By Peter Baldwin

This memoir follows the publication of three previous books, each of which has had
more to do with my professional life as a practicing psychologist and university professor.
Th is collection of stories draws from the rich life living in Gilmanton.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543465600

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by Peter Baldwin.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-5434-6561-7

                eBook           978-1-5434-6560-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 11/30/2017

Also by Peter A. Baldwin:

Four and Twenty Blackbirds, Personae Theory and the Understanding of Our Multiple Selves, 1997.

Gleanings: A Collection of Teaching Stories and Reflections, 2011.

A Scattering of Seeds: Another Pod of Enchanting Teaching Yarns and Reflections, 2015.

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ABOUT THIS MEMOIR

Peter’s mother was carrying Peter when Peter’s father and mother purchased the True Osborne farmhouse on Pancake Hill in the fall of 1931. Peter was three months out of his mommy’s tummy when his parents and his two year’s older brother, Bob, arrived on the hill, unpacked, and settled into the family’s first home of their own. The family called their home The Farm. When Bob in his late eighties visits from Oberlin he talks of visiting The Farm. In our growing up years, while living in Andover Academy’s faculty housing. We two boys whooped with joy if our dad announced that we would drive to The Farm the next morning.

Our mother’s parents came from Yonkers to spend summers with us. They refitted an extension off the main farm house in what we called The Ashworth’s Cottage.

We went swimming in Loon Pond, which lies, over and just beyond Pancake Hill. For a while we swam at the town beach. My parents made arrangements with the Gardners for our family to swim at Gardner Cove on the northerly end of Loon Pond.

High bush blueberry bushes were aplenty across from our farm house onto a neighbor’s property. Course we had to watch out for meadow muffins."

We sometimes walked after supper by the berry bushes, up Pancake Hill to Ladd’s Ledge from which we would look down on Loon Pond, over to Mount Monadnock, and over the foothills of the White Mountains.

Our family was adopted, as it were, by the Hattie and Charlie Kelleys. It seems to me that the Baldwin Family was like a family pack of stray dogs hoping to be included in some of country life by country folk. Funny how it goes! Now we are numbered among the old folk.

My wife, Carolyn, and I are very happy that our three children and their families are close at hand. Judith, our youngest, her husband, Rick, and their children live in East Concord, just a short way away from Pancake Hill. Our eldest, Sarah and her husband Gene are living in the A-Frame house we build on Pancake Hill over the years. Carolyn and I are back and forth from our cottage on the farm, and in our cottage at the Havenwood retirement campus in Concord.

This MEMOIR follows the publication of three previous books each of which has had more to do with my professional life as a practicing psychologist and university professor.

This collection of stories draws from the rich life living in Gilmanton.

CONTENTS

ABOUT THIS MEMOIR

PREFACE

Parish Life: A New England Tradition

Lower Gilmanton Residents Back in the Day

Sandra and Dennis Bean memories

Hurricane in 1938

Following the Hurricane — Summer of 1938

The Parish

Baldwin Family History Prior to Lower Gilmanton

About Our New True Osborn Home

The Charles and Harriet (Hattie) Kelley Family

Electric and Phone Lines over Pancake Hill

Walking for Rain

Bub (Shulden) Hawkins’ and His Mule Visit Pancake Hill

Kelley Farm Store and Initials on an Oak

Picking Blueberries

Elder Folk Tell Stories. Memories Harvested from a Historical Society Meeting in 1974

Church Services at the Free Baptist Church in Lower Gilmanton

Harvesting potatoes and Hay on Pancake Hill in the mid 1930s

Covering up a hole in the Farmhouse roof circa 1949

Showing off for Mr. Kelley circa 1954

a cabin Becomes A Home in Our Old Orchard

Reflections on Space and Place

Clearing the Orchard place; Preparing A Place for Our Cabin

The First Step in the Construction of Our Summer A-Frame Cottage in the Fall of 1963

1964 The Inside A-Frame Job. Designing The A-Frame Interior

Sarah and The SeeSaw. Mid summer, 1974

The Donovan, Leon Partridge, Jim Pennock, and Grace Metalious stories. —1965

Here and There again; From There to Here Again, Now and Then, From Time to Time, Now Here!

Chicago Days: Precious and Awful Moments

Adjusting from Inner City to Rural School Life

The First Addition to the A-Frame in the summer of 1973

The Unforgettable Christmas Freeze-Up: 1974

The Lower Gilmanton Ballet Society [LGBS] Emerged in 1979

Tapping for Maple harvest in March of 1948:

Harvesting maple syrup beginning in the mid 1970s

Down In the maple sugar bush with my grandson Ryan - circa 1994

The Old Barn

Building A New Barn in 1986

Making and Storing Hay

The Drama of Charles Kelley’s Last Days — Circa 1974

If Mr. Kelley can die, I guess I can too: 1975-&—Hattie Kelley’s Last Days

Does This Road Lead to Loudon? —Mid 1970s

Friday Evening Auctions with Moss Brown

Edie and Robert St. John

Everett Twombly: A Character of Note!

The Osborne and Bergeron Barns Burned Down in 1974 and 1977

Horses Sharing Their Living on Pancake Hill Farm

Marauder’s and Monique’s Last day: November 2015

Screaming, Pissing, and Making Whoopee

The Mark Wagner and Rob Baldwin Caper at Danis Market— 1981

Of Mallards and Gander 007

Mallards Returning

White Leghorn Chickens

Dogs [and Chicks] Who Have lived with Us

Domino: [AKA Long Leggedy Beasty]

The Reinvention of Carolyn’s and Peter’s Personal and Professional Identities

Pigs and All

Bun Bun

Cat spells

Chickens Cluck Luck; Our Fowl History from 1942

Endlessly Felling, Sawing, Splitting, Piling, Hauling, and Stacking Cord Wood

Bees —1976

FINALLY, From the End to the Beginning

When I went walking, one foot after the other — 2010

SPECIAL THANKS TO

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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PREFACE

Paula Gilman, you have asked me to reflect upon events I recall from over eighty-six and counting years in Lower Gilmanton. Your genes, Paula, derive from the very first Gilman settlers in Gilmanton. Through and with you we are connected with past Gilmanton generations. We who are Johnny-come-lately and those among us whose families have resided in Gilmanton for generations, are neighboring kith folk. I’m writing these stories for my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. For all readers as well! My accounts shall certainly bring to your minds your own stories and your family’s stories. Don’t expect that the stories I write appear in chronological order! There will be flash- backs and flash-forwards, much like what occurs when folk get together to swap memories, as with: Now let me tell you what popped into my mind,,,,

Parish Life: A New England Tradition:

According to early New England tradition, all residents within an established parish, geographically speaking, were identified as parishioners of a given parish meetinghouse or church. Strictly speaking, and in fact, not every adult denizen within a Parish needed to be self- or commonly- identified with a given meeting house or church. Who made, and make up the Lower Gilmanton Parish in the early nineteen thirties?

Lower Gilmanton Residents Back in the Day:

The Charles and Harriet (Hattie) Kelley family, the Graham (Gray) and Katherine (Kay) Baldwin family, the Geddes family, the Hazel and Zelda Parsons sisters, the Robert Ashworth (Peter Baldwin’s brother) and Helen (Dickenson) Baldwin family, the Robert and Mabel Ashworth (Peter’s and Bob’s maternal grandparents), the Robert (Bob) and Nancy Potter family, the Bobby and Melissa Potter family, The Frank and Jackie Bosiac family, (Frank and Steve), the Joe and Olive Bosiac Family, the Robert (Rob) and Lori (Glum) Baldwin family, Willy [Dan’s father] Webster family, Dan Webster, the Florence, the David Geddes family, the Duncan and Barbara Geddes family, Mary [Geddes] and her son Herby Morse, the Edgerly family and Marian, the Bub [Shurldin] Hawkins family, the Robert (Bob) and Lee [Weet] Dawson family, Maurice (Moss) Brown, the Jim Pennock and George Pennock families, Melvin and Lula McClary Bunker, Ken and Elizabeth Gates, Bruce and Pauline Marriott, and the Bill Norell’s family were all Lower Gilmanton members of the community I have known from my early and growing up years in Lower Gilmanton

There were persons and families of whom I knew little or nothing during the thirties when I was little. These include: Gertie and Fred Twombly, the George and Steve McClary families, Harriet (Hattie) Lane, Mrs. Schultz, Mrs. Thistle, Alden [aka Tiger] Riel, Mary Schliatis, the Fred Warburton family, the Mardens, the Publicovers, Everett Twombly, the late True and Charles Osbornes, and the Montgomery family of Diamond Slash L. Ranch, the Carlson family, the Phillip Carroll family including Casey and Tommy Dombrowski.

I remember when I was young visiting the Montgomery farm to see their magnificent Belgian horses. Fuzz Freese recalls watching them lead the parade at the Pittsfield Fairgrounds.

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Sandra and Dennis Bean memories:

Denis and Sandra Bean’s house was on the corner of Stage Road and Route 107.

Here follow some of Sandra’s memories:

People that I remember are enchanting my recording memories that come to mind as I sit in the evening. Paula opened up my memory bank and I realize how many wonderful people that I had around me as I was growing up. It seems at least in my mind, that everyone was more relaxed, and not running after material items. A friend had a Salada tea tag that read The more things you own, the more things own you How true!.

Life was physically harder but so much less stress. I remember Sherldon mowing Carroll’s field by hand with a scythe. He certainly earned a BIG lunch but would stop and talk a bit if someone came on the scene. Random memories in no order come to mind as I sit.

I remember well Mrs. Bunker and Melvin. Jeannie McClary was Mrs. Bunker’s granddaughter. Sometimes we spent time playing together in her attic, How she let us do that I will never know. I don’t remember messing it up. Melvin would come down and visit with my grandmother when I was very young. I thought he was old but now I know he was probably around thirty. My mother would be getting supper in the kitchen and Melvin and my Grandmother would be talking and laughing in the living room. Fast forward to the first winter after my Father died I was at my Mother’s, luckily, during the first snow storm and about four in the afternoon there was a knock on the door, it was Melvin, he didn’t know I was there. He walked down to check on my Mother which I really appreciated. .

One of the interesting facts to me is how life styles have changed. I remember my Grandmother saying Use it up. When I go to the dump or recycling center the amount of trash is huge. Some of the use it up way of living in the past is not even thought of today. I remember the Rag Bag. Any worn out towel, item of clothing and so forth was put in the Rag Bag. Paper towels were unheard of. If something got spilled, we would go to the Rag Bag to find an old towel that would absorb the mess, not half a roll of paper towels like would be used today. Save a tree comes to mind. Rags were washed and used over again and again until they were paper thin. Nothing was wasted. The dumps were used mainly for tin cans and other metal that could not be burned. We did not have as much packing as we do today. A small item is packed in a large container (to prevent shop lifting) of cardboard and plastic. Landfills do become over crowded with these items, The dumps are now called Recycling Centers because lots of these items are now being sent to large centers to be processed and reused.

When I was very small we had pigs. Dried corn cobs from the summer feast of fresh corn were used for the fire and for smoking the ham and bacon. I remember my father started the fire in the morning before work. Then my mother would keep it going during the day, and at night, the bacon and hams were carried into the house. Toward the end of the smoking my father would cut off a small piece of the meat and let me have a sample. The Smokey taste was so heavenly!.

One of the neighbors took re-purposing to the extreme. Material was purchased for a dress, Each dress was made with the same pattern. The dress was then the best dress, after awhile it became the going to town to shop dress, then, in time, the dress to wear around the house, When it wore out under the arms a patch was sewn on from the scraps of the original fabric that was always saved. Now here is where the repurposing really came in - after the patches wore out, the sleeves were cut out and the neckline was cut down and it was worn as a slip. When the top of the slip wore out the skirt was then made into a apron. And today we think reusable shopping bags are recycling-extreme. Meat was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string, I remember one lady saving the string and knitting hot dish mats from it.

I remember when I was very small, my mother lugging drinking water from a spring across Route 107. I would go with her. There was a very wet meadow and planks were put down to make a walk-way up a small hill to the spring. I thought it was a long ways off but now know it wasn’t. I guess my short legs had to take many steps to get there. Today the meadow is almost dry except in early spring. Then K. Schallis dug by hand the ditch to lay the pipe to the house so the spring water flowed into the kitchen. I think there were two wells from which we had water. Mr. Schallis also dug the large hole for the septic tank.

The woman’s club met on Thursdays, I don’t remember if it was once or twice a month. They met in the Kelly School house in the warm months and at member’s homes during the winter. I remember the rejoicing at the meeting when it was announced that the 99 year lease was approved. Smiles and clapping for a job well done. Each summer there were at least two public suppers held at the schoolhouse to raise money for the projects. There were ham, baked beans, and potato salad. I don’t remember the other main dishes but strawberry shortcake for the early July supper and pies for the one in August. Marion Carlson made the most delicious pickles for these suppers. I had the recipe and it was a 10-12 day process.

Handmade items were available for sale during the suppers. There were at least two settings. People would be waiting in line. Bake sales were held during the summer on the lawn of our house at the junction of Stage Road and Rte 107. My mother made wonderful lemon meringue pies that were the first to go, at the big sum of $1.25. The money raised was used to buy items for anyone who was ill, and at Christmas time for the shut ins. The committee was called the Sunshine. My mother was on it for many years. Special collections were made for families with long illnesses or deaths in the family. Food was brought to them too.

The neighborhood was like one big family. Money earned was used for scholarships and to help the church. Mrs. Parsons was one of the recipients of the holiday cheer and she loved the pink Canada mints and so she received an ample amount.

One of the other projects in which the club members participated was preparing Cancer Dressings. They received a shipment of packages containing clean fabric and a filling, I have no idea what it was but the fabric was torn into squares that would cover the filling and then the ladies would baste the fabric over the covers, very sanitary arrangement I’m sure, but that was the way it was done then. I was so happy when I was big enough to sew them.

On club meeting days the children would get off the bus at the home of the meeting or at Kelly’s Corner and walk to the school house. Refreshments were always served after we arrived. A group of us kids would walk down to Rollins pond. There was an old road that went from the school house to the pond.

The Lower Gilmanton church had Sunday services year round. Mr. Osborne was a minister who served the Iron Works, the Corners and the Lower Gilman churches. I remember there were two services in the morning, and one service in the evening. I liked the 7:30 evening service the best. The ladies would take turns bringing flowers from their garden in the summer for the service. After the service the bouquet would be taken to a shut in or anyone who was ill. Mrs. Parsons, although a shut in, didn’t want any flowers in the house she said the place for flowers were in the garden. It was fascinating to me that she wore her wedding ring on her index finger of the left hand, a very old custom my grandmother told me.

Mr. Osborne was my minister. When I was very young he lived in the parsonage in the Iron Works. Later there was a young minister whose name I do not remember. He was rear ended by a car coming up Route 107 by a man named Lord. This event made the Manchester Union Leader newspaper with the caption Minister hit by Lord.

Melvin Bunker took care of the church, and built the fire in cold weather. There were two stoves in the back of the church, one on each side of the church, stove pipes to the chimneys in the front of the church. I believe the theory was that the heat from the pipes would heat the church. As I remember in the winter the church was cold. The stoves and pipes were still in the church the last time I was in it.

I remember my Sunday school teacher was Ruth Potter. One Christmas she gave all the girls the popular tomato pin cushion. I still have it after 65 years. I remember going to a church supper in the choir loft at the church when I was very young. At Christmas there was a community service at the church followed by the children giving out the Christmas cards to the addressee. Everyone in the community would bring the cards for the neighbors to the tree. I used to love to give out the cards.

We purchased milk from Charlie Kelley. The Kelleys sold milk to Hood’s. They had a large herd of cattle at one time. He, also, hayed our field and I remember him planting corn in the lower part. My father would stop on the way home and pick up one or two quarts. Very rich and creamy. My Mother would take off some of the cream from the top and use it for whipped cream. My Mother and I would go down on Sunday and pay for the week’s milk and have a visit with Hattie. In the baseball season, a radio would be playing in the barn with the game on. Quite often one of Hattie’s and Charlie’s children would be there with their children. My Mom loved seeing them.

My folks never used a baby sitter, When my parents had to attend a funeral in Massachusetts I stayed with Hattie for the day. She loved to tat [to make fancy edging] so she taught me how that day. I learned the basic stitches but never really developed a love for doing it, but I enjoyed learning how!. Hattie was quite short and had a special low rocking chair in which she always sat. Hattie’s Mother