Nelson Small Talk

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.

Driving along Tolman Pond Road for the first time, us anxious city folk thought this dirt road went on forever. When we pulled around the curve and saw the farmhouse and the camps along the pond, we were both relieved and excited!

To further the excitement, however, no sooner had we pulled into the farmhouse driveway and gotten out of the car when down the road came Frank Upton in his rig, shouting, “There’s a balloon up there, and it’s coming down! Let’s go!” It turned out to be a just-married couple heading off after their wedding in a colorful hot air balloon, but things had kind of gone awry. Without thinking we jumped back in our car and followed Frank and Barry as off they went looking for this balloon. We never found it and came back to unpack, but it was our first introduction to the joys of Frank’s stories and the Tolman Pond adventures we would have for the next 15 years, before moving up to Nelson for good. (We were married in front of the gray camp at Tolman Pond in 1978.)

~ Julie Snow (Osherson)


 

More Nelson Small Talk

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.

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.

Teasing with Win

Coming home early one day I met Bud French working on Log Cabin Road. His father, Win, was supervising. I rolled down my window and requested that the road be paved with a concrete median strip painted green.

Discovering Nelson

We emerged in the Village, with the trademark mailboxes. My heart leapt, and I thought to myself, “this is where I want to live”.

Going Down the Rabbit Hole

We think that the northern part of heaven lies down a stretch of dirt road that leaves the paved Harrisville Road in southwestern New Hampshire.

2021-08-12T18:13:23-04:00

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