Nelson Small Talk
200 words or less about a memorable Nelson experience
Share yours – a hike, concert, dance, social event, first impression. Send to editor@nullnelsonincommon.org
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.
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 Souvenir of Appreciation from the Post Office
On the evening of November 28, 1989 the Munsonville store burned due to a faulty ballast in one of the fluorescent lights.
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.
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.