Small Talk2022-02-05T10:58:54-05:00

Nelson Small Talk

200 words or less about a memorable Nelson experience

Share yours –  a hike, concert, dance, social event, first impression. Send to

Got a longer story to tell? We look forward to having an assortment of essays about Nelson. Let us know what you’re thinking about. 

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.

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.

A Nelson Christmas Eve Story

One Christmas, we gave a couple of our children walkie talkies. Suddenly a deep voice cut in, saying, “This is Santa. It’s time to go to bed!”

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.


Go to Top