I had mentioned in an earlier post that Himself started getting interested in his genealogy. Since we had time I suggested taking a trip up to Lancaster, New Hampshire where he spent weekend Summers at his grandfather's farm when he was a kid. We could go look for his grandparents grave and get in some leaf peeping, too. It would be a nice long weekend trip. The drive would take 3 1/2 to 4 hours.
We had heard that color had arrived early up north so we picked the last weekend of September for the trip. Peak color would be around the second weekend of October. The roads would be jammed with Leaf Peepers and we hoped to avoid the crowds.
The White Mountains looking very green. Not much color in them there hills. Oh, well.
Himself is the oldest of 5 children and on the way up he told of making the drive on the weekends. Most times he said his family made the trip up at night with the kids in their pajamas so they would fall asleep in the car. That way, no arguments and fighting from the back seat.
When they made the trip during daylight, one of the biggest and most exciting attractions on the side of the road was to watch for the Old Man in the Mountain, a natural rock formation that looked like an old man. He was really only visible from a certain angle and then all of a sudden would pop out of the mountain. Himself had taken me to see the Old Man back in the mid-1980s when some friends got married up this way.
In 2003, after much weathering, the Old Man fell off the mountain! As we approached the site in Franconia, Himself said, I think this is where the Old Man was.
Where?
Right...there..
I was on the wrong side of the vehicle and I think I snapped the photos too late.
This is what the Old Man in the Mountain looked like. An iconic image that came to be a symbol for the state of New Hampshire. Himself said when they saw the Old Man, they knew it wasn't much longer to the farm.
If you're interested, you can watch this YouTube video about the collapse, the debate whether to restore the icon, and the solution.
We followed this truck for a long time.
How much wood would a wood truck truck,
If a wood truck could truck wood?
A wood truck would truck all the wood it could truck,
If a wood truck could truck wood.
There's my drink reference. The word coffee etched on the window of the cafe in downtown Lancaster.
After getting settled at the hotel, we took a trip to the Calvary Cemetery to locate his paternal grandparents grave. He hadn't been to visit since he was a kid. He had a vague recollection of the gravesite. Near a river and at the back corner of the cemetery.
Usually, on a weekday, someone is in the cemetery office can help direct one to a grave site, but there was no one in the office on this Friday afternoon.
Himself parked the car and the Young One and I roamed the cemetery.
A Mary on the half shell without a Mary (Common to find a statue of the Virgin Mary in a shell)
The view across the cemetery.
From the back corner, The Young One and I didn't really find a river and there no grave stones. Just empty lawn. Himself a short way away from us said his grandparents didn't have a grave stone, just a plaque in the ground.. He saw this monument. This is it! I think the Hartley's are some sort of relation.
Indeed, the Hartely's were some sort of relation. His grandfather's mother. They were his paternal great-grandmother's family. And the original owners of the farm. A working farm in the day, but not when Himself spent Summer weekends there.
Most of the plots in this cemetery were family plots with lots of people buried in the grave. The stones were badly weathered and covered with lichen. I had a notebook with me so took down all the information. It seemed his grandfather had two siblings which Himself didn't know about, both died young. Some other children who died on the same day. Now came the fun part to try to put the pieces of the who were these people puzzle together.
Lovely ivy vine motif on the Hartley stone.
I was also excited to find a Woolly caterpillar, a prediction of Winter weather. If the black ends of the Woolly Caterpillar are wide and the brown middle is small, a harsh Winter is ahead. But this Woolly was all brown! No black head or tail. Hooray! A mild Winter!
We left stone markers at the Hartley stone
One other puzzle was his grandfather's first name, Irving. It never sounded like an Irish name, and it turns out, the name isn't Irish. It's Scottish and means "green river, sea friend."
I remember Himself's grandfather, a sort of funny memory for me as a kid, but as an adult it's meaning is sad.
I was probably 7 or 8 years old. Himself's grandfather was living with them. At one point, the grandmother was living there, too, but I don't have any memories of her. One morning, I was in my front yard when the Grandfather came out of the house, wearing his red, long johns, shoes, his cane, and a hat. A gentleman never went out without his best hat. I don't know where he was going, but he was off.
On the way out of the cemetery, I asked Himself to stop the car so I could take a picture of the Smith monument. The most impressive monument in the cemetery. A beautiful Celtic cross with an angel.
Whatever the angel held in his hand had broken. Maybe a bouquet of flowers?
There was something written around the ring of the cross, but it was so bright out and the sun behind the cross so I couldn't make out what was on the ring.
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