Mom, sometime before she married Dad, had come up to the lake with her friends that had a camp on Jolly Isl. It impressed her a lot and suggested it as a vacation spot for Mom, Dad and I (4 months old) in 1953 for a 2 week period during the shutdown period where Dad was employed. That was the beginning of a wonderful yearly trek for the family. Another island family allowed us to rent their cabin for a 2 week period the next year and it was the beginning of a wonderful family tradition as well as a vacation and a permanent mental image of peace, tranquility, beauty, and happiness.
Island life then was an experience that started a month before the vacation. Planning the 3 meals a day, making the shopping lists, selecting the clothes, and a few toys for us (now) 3 kids. The car trip was partially highway and a lot of secondary roads. The trip would take about 7 hours to get up to Laconia where we would spend a couple more hours buying the groceries we needed for the 2 weeks meals. You see, this kindly old fellow Ernest Abbot would ferry us and our 3 big boxes of clothes, and 27 bags of groceries at his customary 6 mph out of Glendale docks out to the island not to return for 2 weeks. Back then the lifestyle was interesting. The iceman brought the blocks of ice for the icebox every 3 or 4 days in his boat (Archer or Arrow utility flat bottom). The gas cylinders were ordered by postcard and a boat would just pull in and drop them off. The postcard was mailed by the US Mailboat the Uncle Sam which also brought bread, milk and eggs to the residents of the islands it stopped at twice a day and once on Sundays. Meals and after meal cleanup had to be done during the daylight hours. Days consisted of waking early for a canoe ride around the island to hear the bugle record at the Camp Larwence boys camp on Bear Island drifting across the water. Looking down to see the rig scary rocks, those eerie fallen trees, the clams in the sand, some fish, mink or muskrat scooping up those clams and those buoy poles that went all the way to the bottom and pushed so easily. Back for breakfast, then maybe a rowboat ride. After the mandatory 1 hour after a meal, it was swimming time. the old inner tubes came out and kickboards. And with mask and fins it was exploring time, age appropriate depths of course. Do you know how deep a 6 yr old can go with one of those orange life jackets? NOT. The laundry was done in a big pan with scrub board and air dried with that wonderful breeze. Lunches were followed by reading time (at least one hour) and then jeez! swimming time again. Rain or shine, swimming time!. Mail boat time in the afternoon meant ice cream and jumpoing off the dock into the propwash as it left. Then diving to the bottom and getting a hand full of the clay nestled in the sand. bring it up and play with it, or coat ourselves, then jump in and rinse off. Running through the woods on marked trails that cut through the island center or through the neighbors yards along the shore. Maybe a little fishing in the evening. All by rowboat because we didn't have our own power boat.
We would canoe over to other islands. Around little Camp boy do you have to watch out for the rocks. Over to the foot bridge at Birch/Steamboat. The indian head on the rock at Bear Island painted before the water level was raised and now is half underwater at summer high water mark.
You get to know the people on the island and even as renters we were always welcomed and remembered by the permanent residents. And everyone looks out for one another. Those big storms that spring up. We would run to check up on a few of the senior folk that stayed on the island. One dark and story night (sorry but it really was) I had to be taken to Laconia Hospital. We went to the neighbor who volunteered to drive us to town. The 16 ft aluminum boat with the 35 hp motor pounded all the way across to Glendale to walk to the car in that upper parking lot then the quick trip to the hospital. I don't remember if there was thunder and lightning but that was one scary scary ride and Mom and her friend Estelle were real troopers that nite.
The storms were another form of enjoyment. The old Dory row boat was great for riding the 3 and 4 ft waves just off shore. Dad would take us with our orange life jackets and we would take turns sitting in the bow as it went way up high and sloshed down and then again. But the best part was when we came back to shore, the bow slid into the sand and the waves kept a coming. CRSPLASH into the stern and over soaking anyone who was still back there.
Evenings and nightimes were spent sitting on the porch in chairs just looking out over the water and talking. Listening to the water against the rocks just 4 ft away. The bats flitting over the water. The Mt Washington on its nightly cruise all lit up as it headed down the Broads towars Rattlesnake and Alton Bay. All the stars in the sky because there was no light pollution, the moon rising. The otherwise dark island shores because of non-development. If the wind was right, taps could be heard from Camp Lawrence even on our side of the island.
We didn't get a boat until 1965 and that started a whole bunch of new stories and adventures. Family day trips to the different tourist sites; Polar Caves, the Flume, Mt. Washington. The island teenagers would meet up at the mailboat dock in the evenings sometimes horsing around. Maybe a guitar and some songs. then there was the dances at the Weirs, and big named groups would come and play. Us island kids would take the boat out during the day and cruise other islands. If we saw someone on the beach we might like, we would pull in, introduce ourselves and invite to the dance. As we couldn't drive cars, this was the best of everything. At the dance, the keys were left in the boat so if a situation presented itself, then well, just get back and pick everyone else up on time... Water skiing and cruising the lake because gas was 0.32 / gal. we could always bum a couple of quarters and get gas.
Mom's 2 grandchildren got to experience the lake. Things had changed a lot, but not really. Electricity and phone were brought out to the cabin maybe 20 yrs ago? but our rule was no tv. minimal lights. And the hand pump in th kitchen is still there. If you need something to do, collect wood for the fireplace. Bring ashes out to the outhouse. Pick up the stuff you left on the beach. Put the boats away. Put the dishes away. And there is always a game of horseshoes. Nothing sounds better than the clink of shoe against pole. Or rock for those less accurate tosses!
I'm sure you will agree, reading this there a bunch of things that are not allowed anymore or at least seriously restricted, but the experiences we had and the memories and pictures we have and the things we learned in those 2 week vacations each year for 51 years are priceless.
We had to stop coming up to the lake a few years ago due to health and financial setbacks but the photos, stories and family talks still went on. Mom's short term memory was failing rapidly but oh could she remember and talk about the lake..
We will say goodbye to my Mom on Thursday and I wanted this to be my tribute and special thanks to her and the friends that invited her up that first summer and helped our family to build these wonderful memories.
Thank you,
Jay
I've included this obituary link and if you remember Mom, I know Dad will appreciate the thoughts.
http://www.legacy.com/StamfordAdvoca...sonId=91319336