Tag: destination

Common Burial Grounds – Jaffrey New Hampshire

It’s been many many years since I went to Jaffrey’s Old Town Center. I’m not sure I ever went into the cemetery but on this day I did! I had heard that there were two famous people buried here: Amos Fortune and Willa Cather. As a child I had heard about Amos Fortune, a formerly enslaved man who made quite a name for himself, but Willa Cather was news to me. She was a Pulitzer Prize winning novelist.

I’ve been trying to do more Catching Marbles entries this month than usual, but my body has NOT been happy with this new goal, and I was knackered even before I arrived. Still, seeing this place again brought back some fond memories of my childhood. The Old Jaffrey Town Center looks more or less like it did 200 years ago, a small cluster of churches and big farmhouses sitting in a neat little circle, a big grassy common in front of them all. It’s quaint and sweet. They even kept the carriage house intact behind the church as well as the absolutely tiny one room schoolhouse. Plaques and memorials are scattered about making a self-guided tour very easy. The atmosphere was absolutely charming and the Old Burial Grounds behind the church were no different. They were nestled in a quiet spot with a gorgeous view of Mount Monadnock beyond. The perfect place for eternal rest.

Out front of the gates there was a big plaque stating that this was a stop on the Black Heritage Trail because of Amos Fortune. I was told online maps of the cemetery would be at the entrance. There was…. sort of… one big map but it was not laid out in a user-friendly manner. On it several graves were marked out under letters although you pretty much had to read this huge thing about all of them to figure out which was which. I passed because I could see immediately beyond a big number one sitting next to one of the graves. Cool. Surely the two graves I was looking for would be on this numbered tour, right? Right?

I had wandered around and enjoyed all the old slates and got a feel for the place when I realized none of the 13 clearly labelled stops were either Amos Fortune or Willa Cather. What?? I managed to just bump into Willa Cather on accident at the corner of the cemetery not far from the gates. I’d only gone to look at her monument because I saw a ton, and I mean a ton, of rocks on top of her stone. I wanted to know who was so well loved! And I was happy to see it was her. Novelists rarely get that much attention after death. From what I gather she had a claim to fame by writing a series of novels about pioneer life back in the day.

Before I found Will though I found a bizarre monument at the other end of the cemetery in the back that was like nothing I’d ever seen before. It seemed like a vault grave but different somehow? On it the face of a woman was carved as well as a series of religious scenes below. It was chunky and odd, like a folk-art representation of the ostentatious wealthy Catholic memorials I sometimes see. I knew from one of my cemetery books that this monument was carved by a man driven mad by grief from the death of his first wife (whose face it was at the top.) After some drama in creating this… unusual display he eventually lost interest, moved away, and remarried. Doesn’t make for the greatest story but it does make me want to ask a lot of questions!

After all this I was having a hard time standing. I sat on a huge tree trunk near the crypt and rested. Where was Amos Fortune?? I had consulted the map earlier on in the day. He was labelled as “J” but seeing as I have no sense of direction I read the map all wrong and didn’t find him. Asking my phone also resulted no results so I went back to the map and realized it wasn’t oriented in the way I thought it should be and tried again but only after looking up what the memorial looked actually like. It was distinctive in that all the slates in this cemetery seemed to be in perfect condition except for his. His looked as if at some point it has cracked diagonally and snapped in half. A repair effort had fused the pieces back together but not in the most delicate of ways – a large white cement crease could be seen as well as some rusted bolts. Not to be bitchy but this was the worst attempt at stone repair I’d ever seen.

And so I tried again. From the gate I walked forward until I came to the stone wall on the opposing side and then I took a small left and it wasn’t long before I recognized this unique stone. I’d been looking for something drenched in pennies but it didn’t look like anyone had been here. Not a single penny, rock, or trinket, lay testament to a man whose name is burned so heavily into this town’s history. I apologized for this and amended the situation leaving a penny on both his and his wife’s stone.

So who is Amos Fortune? Well, he was an African man who was sold into slavery in the 1700’s and brought to Boston where he labored until he was able to purchase his own freedom at the age of 60. After this he moved to Jaffrey, founded a successful tannery, bought the freedom of his wife and adopted daughter, and lived what looks on the outside to be a good life until his death at 91 where upon he bequeathed a substantial amount of money to the church and community. In 1950 he was once again remembered with Amos Fortune, Free Man a Newbury Metal winning biography by Elizabeth Yates.

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Phillips-Heil Cemetery – Jaffrey New Hampshire

I was having a weird day today. Ended up accidentally crashing a funeral! Hoooow? How did this happen? Well…

Last week I was reading in one of my cemetery books that there was a beautiful cemetery in Jaffrey NH. Really?? I mean I live very nearby and had never heard of this cemetery. The book also denoted the driveway to it was easy to miss and basically said it was in the middle of nowhere. It was called the Philips-Heil Cemetery which is not an unusual name as many of these older cemeteries are named after the original families that buried their loved ones in them. Seeing as it was in the middle of nowhere, likely a family cemetery, and very old (I’m talking slate stones here) I did not expect to find anyone out there.

It was indeed a bit of trouble to find but the sign out front was big enough to see coming from one direction. It was up a long narrow dirt driveway in the woods, so you could not see the cemetery from the road. As I drove up I found a parking lot. And it was FULL. I mean really full… there had to be thirty cars here. Whaaaat was going on?

I found a tiny slot where I could squeeze my Prius. A dirt road continued onward but I wasn’t about to get my wimpy ass Prius stuck and unable to turn around with so many witnesses. Later I’d learn it was only a short drive to overflow parking where there were spaces. Wish I’d known that.

Do I get out or turn around? People were already looking at my car. Hrumph. I got out. If I had to I could bluff in this odd Harold and Maude kinda moment. Upon getting out I realized this cemetery was TINY and there was no real way I could just wander by the services and pretend to be there for someone else, but I had no other option. I walked up to road by them getting dagger eyes from whoever was leading the ceremony. It was just wrapping up. I was not dressed for this sort of thing and was clearly an outsider.

By now I was uncomfortable and so were a great deal of others. I tried not to make eye contact as I walked to the opposite side of the cemetery and peered at the stones intently. Sadly, all these stones were super old and I couldn’t pretend I was here to leave flowers for a great uncle or something. By now I could smell the faint aroma of decay. That was odd. I’ve been to funerals before, I never remember smelling the dead. Then it dawned on me, I thought Heil might be a Jewish surname. Great. Did I just crash a Jewish funeral in the midst of that clusterfuck between Israel and Palestine? When tensions are at an all-time high?! YEAH, that might explain why the person leading this (the rabbi? The funeral director? Not sure) was watching me with such intensity it was burning a hole in my neck. I swear I was not here for any nefarious reasons. I couldn’t give a shit what anyone’s religion or ethnicity is – I just like the pretty stones!

As people were leaving a friendly man and his wife approached me smiling. Oh fuck, here it comes.

“Just out taking pictures today?”

“Yes, I like to take photos of historic grave markers.”

“Oh! Well! The newer stones are up front. You can see many generations of the Philips family here.”

“Thank you!” I smiled and wandered off.

Later I heard a girl and her mum speaking.

“Why is she here?” She asked, obviously referring to me.

“She might know someone buried here. Or she’s out taking photos of the old stones. People do that!”

“WHHHHHHY?!”

“Because they’re gorgeous!”

Touché, ma’am. Touché.

This cemetery was very small. Around 150 or so stones. Most were very old and in this setting, they were quite charming nestled away in a quiet corner of the woods. It was VERY New Englandy! Most were pretty uniform although there was one monument that stuck out at the back near the overflow parking. It wasn’t a headstone. It was a chair. Made of marble.

Later on in the day I looked up this cemetery’s history and found this note about the chair, “A striking memorial is that in the north end of the yard, looking across to Gap Mountain. It is a great stone chair, fit to be the throne of a monarch of the hills. It is a memorial of the Ross family, three generations of whom lived hereabout. It is said that according to the belief of a descendant, spirits often return to the scenes of their earthly existence, and so, with filial respect, he placed for them this chair, facing the sunset, where in seemly fashion they may sit at ease when they return to muse upon the scene of their earthly existence.” (You can find the rest of the article here.)

Basically, this cemetery was the remnants of a farming enclave that lived in between Jaffrey and Fitzwilliam, too far away from either to be fully incorporated. Very interesting! And without further ado here is the very scant few snaps I took.

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Weetamoo Woods – Yellow Trail – Tiverton Rhode Island

It was another day just wandering around looking for some good trails to explore when I came across the Weetamoo Woods. Strange name, I thought, as I wandered in. As it turns out this gorgeous scenery came with a gruesome and perhaps entirely regrettable historical narrative.

I had no idea this was somewhere that was tainted with the blood spilled during the King Philip’s War. More so I had never heard the name Weetamoo before. As it turns out she was a woman chef of the Pocasset tribe. She led several hundred men in her own army during King Philip’s War against the colonists. And King Philip – he was her brother-in-law during her third marriage (of five.) Her leadership was largely unrecognized by the white settlers because of her being a woman but she fought valiantly in her short life. Unfortunately, she was eventually cornered by the colonists during King Philip’s War, drowned, and her corpse defiled. They brought her head to be displayed to the public on a pike in Taunton Massachusetts. And her children who had been caught alive? Sold into slavery. Most of this story was narrated on a plaque at the entrance.

Dark. Morbid. And wholly unjustified. No wonder they don’t teach us about what really happened in those early years of our nation during our schooling. It’s much more comforting to just go on believing in the Thanksgiving Story. Everyone being nice to each other…

I was struck by this story. This woman was a force in her own right, and she had followed her heart, led her people, and fought with everything she had. And now I was here, near where she died, just casually ambling through a patch of woods we’ve named after her. I was humbled.

Since I was alone on this particular day and lacking someone with a sense of direction, I decided to stay on the yellow path which cut straight through the forest before ending some ways out. Although I could still hear traffic for quite a while these woods seemed more remote than they were. A few big, gnarled trees took on an appropriately creepy vibe. Most people don’t realize that the trees in these parts used to be huge I mean with trunks you could wrap several people around in a hug – the sort of thing we normally only think of existing in the Redwood Forest on the opposite coast of our country. White settlers cut pretty much every last one of them down. I’ve yet to see any evidence of a tree older than these times but before the settlers trees were so big because they were allowed to grow for hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years. Everything you see today is new growth. Trees that began their life after everything else was cut down.

I pondered how different these woods must have looked then during Weetamoo’s life in the mid 1600’s. Were they scary? Perhaps even haunted? I couldn’t blame them if they were. I made sure to talk to the trees a bit and thank them for such a beautiful trail. Whether you believe someone is listening or not doesn’t matter. It never hurts to be kind in these situations. Kind and grateful.

I wasn’t the only out on this day. Lots of people had come with their dogs and they were passing me like no one’s business as I struggled to keep going. My body has not been happy with my recent attempts at getting back into shape and was pitching a fit as it usually does – overheating and stabbing me in the side with sharp pains. I stopped several times to sit on rocks and eventually turned around before finding the end of the trail because by then it was getting dark and I didn’t want to be stuck in the woods with no sweater or jacket for the night. Especially in woods with such a gruesome history. No… I have my limits.

That being said I really enjoyed this trail. It was pretty wet at parts, but it was gorgeous and easy to hike. And all the people with their sweet little dogs? Bonus. Definitely a puppy bonus.

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1810 House B&B and Antiques – Wolfboro New Hampshire

Main street antique stores with well-arranged display cases are fun but as for myself I prefer the quirkier establishments – basement antiques, mill antiques, and of course barn antiques. Much to my delight this store was in a barn out back of a cute little B&B. It was so quintessentially White Mountain-y.

And for being a barn it was WELL ventilated and cool. We saw all sorts of antiques, most of which were clearly linked to the local area. Ancient toys, old farming tools, a couple accordions, even a wooden opium pillow. What wasn’t to love? It was halfway like shopping and halfway like visiting a roadside country museum. I loved every bit of this place from its rustic inventory, to the chickens out back, to the cute little inn next door. It was the perfect way to end our journey into the white mountains and if you’re in the area go check it out! It’s a lot of fun!

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Rockin’ Thru the Ages Antiques and Collectibles – East Laconia New Hampshire

We were having such a great day we weren’t ready to go home just yet so we looked up another antique store and found the Rockin’ Thru the Ages Antiques which was… an absolute riot. LOVED this place! It was the only antique store I’ve ever been to that had mini golf course out the back door. And inside? A rock wall. Clearly this place used to be something else but now it was an antique store I was loving how quirky it was.

This place was after my heart when right at the entrance there was two ventriloquist dummies sitting on the floor, slack-jawed, just gawking at people coming in. One was a Howdy Doody and the other was the same dummy I keep finding and not being able to buy. He was fully intact and only $35 and obviously almost came home with me. Only reason he didn’t was because he ended up being a pull string doll instead of a proper ventriloquist dummy. SIGH. SO CLOSE.

The main floor of this place was nice, spacious, good variety of things. My companion was a little weirded out by the display case of Nazi medals at the back. I was more freaked out by the wrought iron handcuffs that had a little label stating they were from a prison back in the day. Clearly an otherwise bright and happy store had this weird corner of human depravity. We shuffled off.

Downstairs was more fun because it was the epitome of basement antiques. SO MANY CLOWNS. And they were all hobos. Why? NO IDEA. I was already working through my own hobo related trauma after learning Candy Mountain, that sweet, adorable children’s song, actually had several lyrics that were censored from the final cut. Basically, it was narrated by a runaway boy telling a hobo pedophile to fuck off. And that’s what I was thinking about when I saw the hobo clowns. Adding clown make-up to the mix did not help.

All kidding aside this place had some weird things including a leather wine holder in the shape of a rooster. And the prices were unbeatable. I found an antique ceramic Jack-O-Lantern and brought him home for $5.

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Defiant Records and Craft Beer – Laconia New Hampshire

You find the weirdest things when you’re not looking for anything in particular. I remember reading something that was basically a whole belief system based on the power of going on daily walks. And you know what? As kooky as it sounds I’m not going to disbelieve there isn’t some whimsical hand of chaos at play here.

A great example of this was Defiant Records and Craft Beer. I am a teetotaler. I do not go to bars. But on this day we were walking down the street exploring and on the look out for a bathroom. We thought this establishment might be obliging to such a thing and they were! ‘Course there was only one stall so as I waited for my companion I was left to look around and this place… it was nice! A sweet little hipster bar in the middle of Laconia selling used records in the back for five bucks a pop. How cute is that?? Also loved the bloody Jason mannikin at the entrance.

I don’t know man, if I were into alcohol or looking to cruise for a date in the area this might be a fun little stop.

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New Hampshire Vintage Vinyl – Laconia New Hampshire

After spending a delightful afternoon in the Laconia Antique Center we decided to continue the day by taking a stroll down the street to see what Laconia had to offer. It’s always a fun way to get to know the personality of a town. So, with nothing in mind we ambled aimlessly and found a sweet little record shop.

I love going into these places. They’re usually super small, cramped, dark little dungeons full of old records in milk crates. This place… it was quite a bit more modern. It was well lit with an open-air feel. Records were scattered in various parts of the shop but the rest had musical instruments, supplies, CDs, and other media. It was like a tiny musical Woolworths. With interesting decorating style as the walls were plastered with music posters and similar imagery.

I don’t know if this place takes part in Record Store Day but it should. It’d be a nice stop!

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Laconia Antique Center – Laconia New Hampshire

Sometimes we end up at destinations just because that’s where our lazy google searches suggest. This one came up because it was the largest antique center in New Hampshire and we figured it’d be worth the drive. And it was! My goodness!

It was two VERY full floors and some of the things here were definitely different from other antique stores! One corner seemed to have a collection of automatic playing pianos, organs, and an old timey wooden telephone booth that looked like it may have been ripped from someone’s 1930’s parlor. Just aside that there was a FULL 1950’s SODA FOUNTAIN COUNTER with stools, shiny equipment, and an endearing menu that included milkshakes, frappes, and root beer floats. I have no idea when they had a server around but it wasn’t today. Sadly. I wouldn’t have minded a root beer float. I was fondly remembering the first time I ordered one in front of a group of horrified Europeans. Apparently, the rest of the world does not lob gobs of ice cream into their soda. Their loss! It’s a fun way to get diabetes. Did I mention the music they were playing here was mostly 1950’s hop music? So. Flipping. Cute.

The rest of the first floor was filled with the usual vendor booths and small items. A lot were clearly marketed towards bikers which made sense as Laconia Bike Week is huuuge every summer. Other books included a fascinating volume of English history, a book on cryptids, and lots of weird recipe books. Scattered among them were a lot of plastic dolls in varying levels of creepiness. There was even a possessed Snow White with red eyes. Why red eyes? No idea. Maybe she was getting ready for Halloween. There was also a tub of 30 naked Barbies for $45 which I had to debate not buying because I really want to start doing creepy doll make overs… the artist in me is bored. Or just procrastinating being an adult. Whatever you believe.

Speaking of letting my inner child play the upstairs was ADORABLE. There were a series of fully set up model trains with complete villages. And hidden among one we found Ninja Turtles protecting the streets from… bad guys? I forgot what Ninja Turtles fight but they were there! So were some dinosaurs. Because we like to be historically accurate these days. There were signs up letting you know when the trains run – only a few hours every weekend. It’s a bleeding shame we were there on a weekday because I think my heart may have melted if they were running.

We left empty handed that day but that’s mostly because I don’t have a cabin in the woods to install an old cast iron cook stove. This place was wonderful and well worth the drive. If you are looking for a little antiquing adventure punctuated with lots of nostalgia you absolutely should check this place out!

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Montague Plains Wildlife Management Area – Montague Massachusetts

What’s the best way to end a day of antiquing and wandering? For me it might be just a little stroll through the woods. I let my companion choose the trail on this day and this became our chance to make the Prius cry again as it was down a long bumpy dirt road. And when we got to our destination we weren’t even sure it was our destination. All we could see was a faded sign board in front of an access path to the telephone poles. Still, we poked at it and eventually found a path that branched off the telephone poles.

It was starting to get dark and I was a little worried we might end up lost out here because there were no trail markers, numerous branching paths, and there was always the possibly of bears and whatnot. We only saw two other people the entire time we were walking. One was at the entrance – a woman picking ragweed aside the road. The second was on a bicycle who zoomed by at one point.

This trail seemed very suitable to mountain biking. It was long and flat but just the right kind of packed down dirt to encourage this sport. It was less suited to hiking but that’s OK, we still managed. As it was also a wildlife area there were studies going on. Signs warned of cameras (to prevent dumping!) and we found some mosquito buckets gathering specimens and the biggest bat box I have ever seen. Thing could have probably held 80 bats but being dawn I am pretty sure they were already out of it and hunting bugs. We did however find a cute little tree frog and the moon was so big and beautiful as it came up that I took a gorgeous photo of it between the trees.

This place was a nice stop. We got a very brisk walk out of it which was good for the blood. Otherwise, this wasn’t really a trail I’d suggest to hikers so much. There wasn’t any great views or anything, it was more just a good place to exercise. So, if you’re in the area and want to go mountain biking by all means this place is a good bet. And it goes on for a while. Just bring your sense of direction, you’ll need it!

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Doe Orchards – Harvard Massachusetts

You know what’s awesome about having a birthday at the end of September? It’s the perfect time to go apple picking! So that’s what I did to celebrate entering another year of life. And this year I decided to bring an old friend who happened to live just down the street from several orchards. I chose this one as it seemed to have a lot of varieties of apples listed and it also seemed a little less touristy. You know me, the perpetual introvert. I like supporting the little guys whenever I can.

I couldn’t have had a better experience. The people were wonderful, the apples were DELICIOUS, and we had such a great time catching up and picking the perfect bag of apples. This orchard was really lovely in that it allowed people to come with their well-behaved dogs so there were cute fluffy dogs accompanying their owners. It was like wandering through a Norman Rockwell painting.

And this orchard was nice in that it had all the trees labelled with colored markers, so you knew what kind of apple you were picking and what week they were supposed to be ripe. It had rained earlier on in the day so the ground was SOGGY and my friend had to lop off her shoes and barefoot it through the puddles. The grey clouds and raindrops on the apples made for some nice photo opportunities!

This place was really wonderful. I ended up with a bag of apples (and some of these apples were HUUUGE) as well as a $10 pumpkin which was perfectly round and I honestly don’t know if I am going to carve it or eat it. There was also a regular farm stand here so you could just buy a bag of apples if you didn’t want to pick them yourself.

I would definitely go back to this orchard. It was beautiful, the apples were just an amazing quality, and the people running the place were friendly and warm. This was the perfect way to spend my birthday.

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