https://www.omekaclassic4.nhlibraries.org/files/original/95d816113fa52b536b46cd8ff276d2cc.pdf 398d70a9ff3a7c556c12ced2f7e46ce8 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour Subject The topic of the resource Troubadour Description An account of the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour was a publication of the State of New Hampshire's State Planning and Development Commission in Concord, NH from 1931-1950s. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The State of New Hampshire Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The State of New Hampshire Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1930s-1950s Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource NHSL Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource State of New Hampshire Troubadour PDF files of the Troubadour OCR OCR of the Troubadour •a/ The New Hampshire TROUBADOUR March 1945 The summit of Mt. Washington looking over the north headwall from Mt. Clay. Near the top are the Gulf Water tanks of the famous Cog Railway and the frost-covered summit buildings and the radio tower. "Ml. Washington [6w88 ft.) is the highest peak east of the Mississippi and north of the Carolinas. It was seen from the ocean as early as 1605 and was first ascended in 1642 by Darby Field accompanied by two Indians." A.M.C. White Mountain Guide The New Hampshire Troubadour COMES TO YOU EVERY MONTH SINGING THE PRAISES OF NEW HAMPSHIRE, A STATE WHOSE BEAUTY AND OPPORTUNITIES SHOULD TEMPT YOU TO COME AND SHARE THOSE GOOD THINGS THAT MAKE LIFE HERE SO DELIGHTFUL. IT IS SENT TO YOU BY THE STATE PLANNING AND DEVELOPMENT COMMISSION AT CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE. DONALD TUTTLE, EDITOR volume xivMarch,1 945NUMBER 1 2 THEMONTHOFMARCH by Kenneth Andler An ancient native of our New Hampshire village used to make the remark, "I've always noticed that if I lived through the month of March I lived through the rest of the year." This observation, accurate but specious, can best be appreciated by those who live in New Hampshire the year round. Particularly middle and northern New Hampshire. I understand that southern New Hampshire escapes some of this month. There's no use dissembling about this matter. Visitors find out about it sooner or later. Perhaps March is the penance we have to endure for enjoying our other eleven months so much. Our real Spring is a never-failing miracle of beauty and a blood transfusion to the soul our Summer is one long sylvan dream our Fall an enchanted voyage on a rising tide of color even our Winter, arctic as it is, is enjoyable, particularly to those who ski and skate, and to those who prefer a "song by the fire," when "the great white cold walks abroad." New Hampshire Troubadour3 But March! It drags. It raises eager hopes of warm and sunny weather and then dashes them to the ground with frigid, stormy days. It clears the roads and sidewalks to give one a glimpse of the long missing terra firma and then covers them with slush which it freezes into iron knobs and pitfalls of arrowheaded ice. It sends its own particular wind to search you out and put its icy fingers on your heart. It turns some roads to lanes of rutted mud. In short, it tries the soul. In fact, it tries the soul so much that I have often thought if town meetings were held in some other month they wouldn't be nearly so acrimonious. Everyone is likely to be out of patience with himself and with everyone else and ready to let off steam at town meeting. It makes us feel better temporarily but we still have about two weeks of March left ahead of us. Yet somehow one must have these Marches in his background to qualify for a full-fledged resident of New Hampshire. One would certainly be no Granite Stater who had run away from many Marches. They have to be in a native's background just as stones have to be in a pasture. People who run away from our Winters to warm and sunny climes (and how we envy them from time to time), become from a strictly New Hampshire viewpoint, neutralized, diluted and watered down into something one can scarcely recognize as brother citizens, pale images of their former selves. You see they've dropped out the month of March from their souls. They've gone "agin" nature as we know it. It's like leaving salt out of the oatmeal. Certainly April, May and June must fail to bring the delirious joy of living to those who never suffered through March. Perhaps I make it too strong. There's sugaring in March (although they say there's more sugar made in April) and that's one point in its favor. The steaming vats, the sweetish taste of sap, the delicious flavor of new syrup — these things are all to the good. But to me they are just a sign of the real Spring which we all 4The March 1945 After a morning of skiing an outdoor lunch of toasted sandwiches and coffee in the warm sun is something long remembered long for, and the maple trees seem to be drooling in anticipation of it. Yes, March is a necessary and proper ingredient of New Hampshire. A Devil's Advocate, perhaps, but essential. From the olden days when it was thought to be well-nigh fatal to get a haircut in that month and when the story was told of six weeks' sledding in March, to these later years, it hasn't changed much. It's just an alder swamp to cross before you can reach the serene and invigorating uplands there ahead of you. New Hampshire Troubadour5 BACKHOME Even now, more than 300 years after the Pilgrims, there is a feeling that New England is "back home." Its white churches and its Louisburg Square in a scurry of snow move some nostalgic spirit even in the Westerner or Southerner who has never seen them, and Christmas carols on Beacon Hill are as they are in no other corner of America. For these are days when the minds of men go to national beginnings as well as personal living and dying, and that dark coast and snowy hinterland to the northeast facing the Atlantic waste, and what is on the other side, just as they did when kings were oppressors and Hitler was not heard of. Kenneth Roberts wrote of old Portsmouth, and its great and beautiful houses still stand. Burlington looks down upon the lake on which Rogers and his rangers skated on their deadly raids. At Bennington towers the battle monument which signifies our immemorial freedom. So in Charlestown soars the granite shaft that commemorates the Battle of Bunker Hill, where today, with freedom nearer fully grown, men in red coats could march again at need, and be welcome there. Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut, mountain range and rocky or sandy beach, they are all "back home" to men at war whether they hail from New Orleans or Puget Sound, or happen to have been born somewhere in the long cold sweep of New England itself between Colebrook and the Canadian border. The Androscoggin, the Penobscot and the Kennebec swirl beneath their northern ice, names less known than Plymouth, Boston and New Bedford, but fitting into the outline of our national story. Tonight the remote reaches of Moose-head will lie under their cover of white, and somewhere across the sounding sea there are men who remember Greenville's general store and Lilly Bay and the streets of Bangor, Maine, and the crash of the waters in the thunder hole on the rocky coast at Bar Harbor. 6The March 1945 And in Belgium there is a colonel of a famous name who comes from the gentler Narragansett country in Rhode Island and knows the homes of Peacedale and Wickford and the ancient amenities of South County, where yellow corn meal still goes into jonnycake made according to the recipe of Phyllis, grandfather's never-to-be-forgotten cook. These are the things of New England, as varied as a patchwork quilt and as unified in tradition and in purpose. Among them the little farms breed their cattle and raise their products and the industrial cities grind out their war machines and their millions of yards of textiles, some of which must be dyed in the blood of men from many States. There the foundations were laid where men vote as they please and fight when freedom is assailed. There are many churches there of many designs, but the old white church is the symbol that represents them all. The qualities indigenous to New England are those of everywhere that men have always wanted built into their homes. And so when the men in the fighting line say it they may mean Pasadena or they may mean Nashville but they also mean New England when they say "back home."—New York Times The Common at Fitzwilliam ORNE < j. ex it i" Dover The first permanent settlement in New Hampshire was at Dover point in 1623, incorporated as a city in 1855. Originally named “Hilton’s Point” after one of the early settlers, the name was later changed to “Northham” and finally to Dover after the English town. Top row left to right: Public Library and Civil War Memorial. Central Avenue from Lower Square. Woodman Institute. Center: High School. Post Office. Bottom row: Henry Law Park. Lower Square. City Hall. All photographs by A. Thornton Gray A wonderland of frost and snow on the summit of Cannon Mountain, Franconia Notch WINTERINWESTMORELAND by Mrs. Forest F. Hall To many of you Winter brings memories of a beloved small town, much like Westmoreland. Many of you have spent your childhood, or some part of your life in such a town. Perhaps you have come to some small town, and made a home, and spent the Summer months enjoying the beautiful country we are so proud of. It is 10The March 1945 just as beautiful in Winter, and just as thrilling to look at, and live in, as it is during the months you know it. In Westmoreland the Connecticut River flows broad and snow-covered between us and Vermont. It makes a smooth white pattern as it winds the length of the town. The meadows are marked with the tops of the fences, showing above the snow. On the hills are the bare-limbed hard wood trees and the dark green evergreens. When a full moon comes up over the hills, early in the evening, while the sky is still blue, it is an inspiring sight. Through all run a network of roads, the main routes often black ribbons because the snow has been scraped off by large snow plows, or melted by salt. The hill roads are narrow avenues of white, often just the width of a car, with the snow banked high on each side. The trees are all beautiful after a storm, feathery with the new snow, or glistening with ice, their branches resembling icicles. We look forward to the years when the evergreens cone, as then the cones of the pine, spruce, and hemlock are like Nature's ornaments on a lovely Christmas Tree. After a light snow the branches of the trees are moved by the faintest breeze, and as we look toward the hills we see soft clouds of snow falling, as it is shaken from the trees. The trees on the tops of the hills are often white with frost, and shine with a pink glow as the early rising sun steals through the small valleys. Our small brooks flow to the Connecticut River and the occasional open spots make an interesting pattern in the snowy brook beds. The footprints of tiny animals lead down to the open pools. The grey squirrels run between trees where they have stored nuts, and hiding places of seeds and grain. Sometimes we see the smaller red squirrels, or even the lively little chipmunks. Our Winter birds flash back and forth eagerly eating the food that is put out for them. Perhaps they know that we are showing our appreciation for all the insects they have eaten in our gardens New Hampshire Troubadour11 during the Summer months. As Spring comes we see more color in the birds, as we greet the red-headed woodpeckers, the flickers, the bluejays, and finally the beautiful bluebirds and red-breasted robins. The children are an interesting part of small town life. They form a pretty picture on their way to the little district school. They are well bundled up, with bright mittens and caps, and swing their lunch boxes merrily. Often they stop to jump in some smooth snow bank, amusing themselves by making patterns of their bodies in the new snow. There is much fun for children in a small town. They slide, skate, and ski. Perhaps they play with an old family horse, hitching him to any old sled they can find. Perhaps they are training a small pair of steers, and haul up jags of wood on home-made sleds. The children and the animals seem very fond of each other, and make an appealing sight playing and working together. The children will work for hours, clearing off a pond for skating. Perhaps they will have a party, with a huge bonfire, and good hot food. They are a beautiful sight, the small flying figures, with their bright clothes. I fear they are never as much interested in shoveling the paths around the house and barn, as they are in some fascinating project of their own. Our homes and farms look snug and warm, with the smoke curling from the chimneys, making a pattern against the hills or the sky. The paths are shovelled between house and barn, and to the mail box. To many people the arrival of the Rural Mail Carrier is the big event of the day. He brings the daily papers, market bulletins, packages from the mail order houses, and the long looked for letters from boys and girls away at war, or working in war industries. On warm days, we see the cattle in the barn yards, maybe the flash of the black and white of the Holstein, or the dark red bodies and white faces of the Herefords. Wood piles stand in each farmyard, even-cut four-foot firewood, piled neatly, for easy measuring. 12The March 1945 Business section of Wolfeboro, "oldest summer resort in America" Soon a neighbor will come along and saw it into stove lengths, charging a dollar or so a cord. The wood pile is always a part of the Winter landscape, and brings a promise of warmth by a stove, over a register, or in front of a fireplace. Tucked away in the Winter loveliness are many beloved homes of our Summer residents. They look neat, well closed up against the rain and snow. In spite of this, they look warm and comfortable, even if the snow is piled up around them. Many of their owners are thinking of them now, and wishing they were here to enjoy the beauty of the town at this season, as they do in the vacation months. New Hampshire Troubadour 13 Front Cover: Off for a day's skiing from the A.M.C. Pinkham Notch Camp. Kodachrome by Winston Pote. Back Cover: Mt. Washington and the Ellis River from Jackson. Photograph by Pote. Beginning to think about a vacation next summer? Some literature is ready now, and we'll be glad to send it to you. " A cynic is a man who has taken stock of himself and got sore about it." A Gentlemen Orders a Dress Coat. From the day book of John Whitte-more, owner of a general store in Fitzwilliam: November, 1822 9 yds. Crimson Bombasett$4.50 16 Gilt coat buttons.67 1 skien silk.06 stick twist Knots thread 1/4 velvet for color.13 1/8 yard buckram 1/2 yd cotton cloth Total$11.60 Bot. by Henry Ide of Hinsdale. 14 To be paid in Gravestones @ one Dollar per foot to be delivered here in May. Sorry we can't account for the missing $6.24 and explain the relation of a dress coat to gravestones perhaps Mr. W. was one of those modern chaps who kept two sets of books. If we ever run across the other set, we'll let you know. From a letter written by 1st. Lt. George H. Gray: "I didn't think of New Hampshire the same while I was there as I do now. It is being away that has made me really appreciate what it means to me. One little picture can bring back to the foreground of my memory all the happy days I've lived there. For an example, in the January issue the recollections recalled by looking at the picture of Tuckerman's Ravine, were, first, of just a few years ago how much I'd enjoyed skiing there then the thoughts of skiing reminded me of how I'd learned to ski and of course that led to thoughts of my entire childhood. You can see what it really means to me, taking the booklet as a whole and not just one picture. It keeps vivid the memories I cherish of New Hampshire. God Bless her for that beauty." The March 1945 "Shovel-a-Minute" Plan Really Works Andover, Feb. 16—The Man with the Hoe may have had his day, but at Proctor Academy the man with the shovel is the man of the hour. This is due to the "shovel-a-minute" plan adopted to meet the emergency created by this season's unusually heavy snowfall. According to this plan, paths are started, then shovels are left suggestively at the places where shoveling is needed. Everyone who comes along, faculty and students, takes a shovelful or, when possible, shovels for a minute. It is amazing how rapidly Proctor's approximate mile of walks have been cleared, with everyone lending a hand. Manchester Union The following is an excerpt from a letter written by Capt. Frederick W. Smith to his mother, Mrs. A. C. Swift of Wilton, New Hampshire. Capt. Smith is in China: "Once in a letter you worried about whether I'd still like New Hampshire when I got back. If you hadanyideahowmuchof my New Hampshire Troubadour REMEMBER.'' time I spend in New Hampshire, strolling around the farm, wandering up attic in the big house, down cellar in the barn, and sitting in front of the fireplace in the little house listening to the phonograph, you'd stop worrying. I also quite frequently go camping in the mountains and go from Lakes of the Clouds over Washington, Jefferson, and Adams to Madison Hut and then down Adams slide trail to Great Gulf shelter. I've been over all my favorite trails there so many times in the past six months that if when I get back they have moved a single rock on any of them, I shall notice it, and resent it deeply. You haven't anything to worry about." 15 RUMFORD PRESS CONCORD. N. H. NOR RECKONEDONTHEMIRACLE OFSPRING by Bishop William A. Quayle The winter hath been weary, long, and cold The snows have banked them deep in wood and lane: The North wind piped reiterant refrain Of loneliness and care, or carol bold: Bleak storms have reveled over hill and wold. How hardily shall the flowers bloom again, And pastures answer to the gentle rain, Which shall entice the sheep from winter's fold. 'Twas thus I fretted in the wintry days, And made gray days yet grayer with my plaint Nor reckoned on the miracle of Spring. Spring came, — a wash of balmy winds, a haze Of violet, a waft of perfume faint And then — a bluebird, voice and wing! Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available State of New Hampshire Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context troubadour031945 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource State of New Hampshire Title A name given to the resource The New Hampshire Troubadour March 1945 Description An account of the resource Enjoy the March 1945 issue of The New Hampshire Troubadour! [gview file="http://www.nhlibraries.org/history2/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/Troubadour-March-1945-OCR.pdf"] Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1945 Type The nature or genre of the resource Magazine Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource 16-page booklet Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant New Hampshire Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource COPYRIGHT UNDETERMINED: This Rights Statement should be used for Items for which the copyright status is unknown and for which the organization that has made the Item available has undertaken an (unsuccessful) effort to determine the copyright status of the underlying Work. Typically, this Rights Statement is used when the organization is missing key facts essential to making an accurate copyright status determination. URI: http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/UND/1.0/ Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource New Hampshire State Library, 20 Park Stree, Concord, NH 03301https://nh.gov/nhsl Language A language of the resource eng Subject The topic of the resource Cannon Mountain Dover Mt. Washington Pinkham Notch Proctor Westmoreland Wolfeboro