Last Updated on June 20, 2024 by Michelle
Our first Old Home Day that we drove to in a car with NH plates… Our first Old Home Day in our own small town… We were not vacationers passing through. This was our Old Home Day, and we were excited. Cars lined the small road that meandered around the old school house. The bustle of the ham and beans lunch preparations surrounded us as we neared the tents. At the lunch ticket table, we greeted a dear neighbor who has lived in our town her entire wonderfully full life. Near the blue grass band, we bumped into friends from church.
On a dirt road behind the church, we chatted with a man who brought history alive as he shared details about his unique ride–one of only seven like it that are still in existence today.
From tractors to quilts to art to bees, it was history and small town life on display at its finest.
But small town life wasn’t just on display; we were an intricate part of it–a part of history in the making in a small town.
As we ambled back around the turns in the road to reach our car, we passed sweet reminders of those men who served in the Revolutionary War, the men who revisited the land of their youth on the first Old Home Week.
I felt overwhelming grateful to be a tiny part of this small town’s story as it is being written throughout the annals of time, at the hands of an abundantly immense God. A gracious God who marked out our family’s boundaries in a land so fair. Long before we even heard of this tiny town or set eyes on our little cape on the hill, by the dam, where the crystal clear lake empties into the winding river, He planned to place us here. For that I will always be thankful.
“From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands.” Acts 17:26
Michelle, this takes me back to my roots. Born & raised in NH until I was 12 when I moved next door to Vermont., I still have NH family and I know they are always talking about going to Old Home Day when it rolls around.. Sadly, I don’t remember going to any but as a baby, in Rumney, NH, I took first place in a baby contest for being the solemnest. lol I still have that little homemade ribbon! Now living in Florida (for 40 years) I do miss my New England mountains, maple syrup, the beautiful fall leaves and living where neighbors still know their neighbors. Thanks for the memories!
No WAY! Rumney, NH, is where my roots to New England all started! The cottage nestled under tall pines that I mentioned in this article, about our family’s move from suburbia to rural New England, is in Rumney NH!
That is too funny!! Nobody know where Rumney is! lol The big old Victorian that I was brought home to from the Plymouth hospital still stands and is now the Common Cafe. I spent many summers there when I was growing up and am very pleased with the way the house is being used now. I haven’t been to the Cafe but I do want to visit. From the pictures I have seen it looks marvelous. I have many ancestors from the surrounding area and my Dad grew up in the house from the time he was maybe 6 or 7. He’s 85 now. My Grandfather was town clerk for many years and one of my uncle’s name is on the WWII monument in the Common. Most of my Mom’s family still lives in the area, So as you can see I have deep roots in NH.
Thought of someplace else you might know of. My Uncle has an antique shop on the main road (Rt. 25??) in South Wentworth, right next to the cemetery.
Is his antique shop in the old hardware store, beside where Fat Bob’s ice cream used to be? We went through Wentworth often when we vacationed in Rumney and went to Lake Tarleton for the day.
btw, how did you stumble across this little article I wrote so many years ago? I’ve never told folks about it, and no one was actually reading my little blog back then. 🙂
I was just poking around one of the links that you emailed me. lol