Discovering Nelson

Nelson Small Talk

1976: I had been invited to dinner at the home of Mike and Alouette Iselin, who I had recently met. The drive over from Greenfield, which put us over the Old Stoddard Rd (much more primitive then) seemed to be pulling us into a mysterious zone. Then we emerged in the Village, with the trademark mailboxes. My heart leapt, and I thought to myself, “this is where I want to live”. It took several moves, to just about every other town around, but eventually I made it here. It’s going on forty years now.  ~ Gordon Peery


 

More Nelson Small Talk

On the Hill Above Nelson School

My house is up on the hill above Nelson School and I can often hear the children playing outside when I am home during the week.

In the Line of Duty

In the late 1970s the old Josiah Whitney home, owned by Peter Flint, caught fire. Peter’s Aunt Kate was home at the time.

The Nelson Nutcrackers

Every year at Christmastime I am reminded of the very first Christmas we had here in Nelson. I don’t remember the exact date, but on one particular day in mid-ish December near suppertime there came a knock at the front door.

Fancy Vocabulary

In a recent edition of the Black Fly Express, our editor used the word “plethora.” It reminded me of a town meeting a number of years ago . . .

The Brigadoon Article

To see if the town will vote to proclaim the Town of Nelson a voluntary and positive anachronism, and to authorize the Selectmen to . . .

Our First Day in Nelson

In 1977, Sam and I saw an ad in the Harvard Crimson (thank you Karen Tolman) for a camp for rent in Nelson, near a place called Tolman Pond. We had some friends in Peterborough and Hancock, so we decided to rent the cabin to get out of Cambridge in the summer.

Edgar Seaver’s Penny

Edgar Seaver made a daily trip to the post office in Marlborough to pick up the mail for delivery. One day . . .

A Parking Meter in Nelson

One day I spotted a parking meter. I loaded it into my truck, and by the time I got home I had contrived a plan.

Finding Ancestors

Cemeteries are a wonderful place of quiet calm and the surroundings are perfect for meditation and contemplation.  On a warm spring day I was walking among the souls in the Munsonville Cemetery and came across the final resting place of one of my great aunts.

By |2021-05-09T19:15:19-04:00March 5, 2021|Nelson Small Talk, Small Talk|0 Comments

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