Island Memories

There were but four families who lived all year-round on the island in those days. There were the Sturrocks, the Chases, the Willey's and us. But in the summers the island population exploded.

Prior to World War II the entire eastern half of the island's shoreline was pretty much developed. It is about nine miles around the shoreline of the whole island. There were cottages and homes on that one half, spaced about 100 yards apart. Few cottages were built in the interior of the island because most folks wanted shore property.

After World War II the western half of the island was developed (quite rapidly after the perimeter road was created). In my time there were only a half dozen places added to the shores of the western half.

Vehicle access to the island was possible along a causeway and over a rickety wooden bridge. That bridge spanned a narrow channel of water, crystal clear water where you could see the lake bottom at depths of twenty feet or more.

The bridge was constructed of wood. A maze of heavy beams, columns and braces supported the wooden deck which was barely wide enough for two vehicles. The two approaches to the bridge were inclined ramps and the center was a flat deck.

One could climb down wooden ladders at either abutment to reach the underside of the bridge and then scramble over a rough surface of big rocks and concrete foundations. For it was from beneath that bridge that one could get to great places to fish or swim in and around the channel. The fishing was great for smallmouth bass, yellow perch, catfish (locally called horned-pout) and even lake trout or salmon.

The mainland across the causeway was in the city limits of Laconia but the island itself was included in the township of Gilford. There were some interesting and confusing jurisdictional issues raised by that partitioning, most especially where it related to school bus services.

After crossing from the mainland onto the island a driver had two options. He could proceed straight ahead and up a big hill to the big farmhouse owned by the Sturrocks ... or take a right turn and follow the shoreline road. Our place was reached by taking the shore road and about one-half mile from the intersection. There used to be a post with dozens of wooden arrow markers identifying names of cottage owners.

First you'd pass a lovely place owned by the Brice's. It featured a big boathouse and tennis courts highly visible from the causeway.

Then you'd come to the place owned by the Floyd Willey's (Floyd and Gladys) on a small peninsula with its own side road. Down that road were also the places of the Ferris's and the Baldi's, respectively.

Our home was next, just a quarter of a mile further, past some woods and a beach designated then as community (shared ) access. We were located at the bottom of a small valley with a winding road down one side and a straight one up the other (great for sledding).

The shoreline road then continued a couple of miles further eastward to the very tip of the island. Along that road lived several people who were family friends, including most especially the LaFrances and the Chases. Others were more acquaintances and included the Bridges, Beatties, Kopperals and Edgecombs.

On the north side of the island was a lovely beach and recreation area known as the Community Beach. In addition to the terrific sandy beach there were tennis courts and picnic tables for use of island residents. It was a great place to spend summer days and evenings.

There was a road across the center of the island which ran generally from the community beach to the Sturrock farm. And there was another side road (soon overgrown with weeds and trees to become impassable) that passed by a little white rental house.

Between the Sturrock place and the shoreline road there used to be a big pasture/hay field where we ski-ed and tobogganed. It's since grown over with trees but once was wide open. At one lower corner of that field was a small graveyard which included perhaps eight or ten headstones. The original island residents, the Davis family, had a family plot there. That was probably back in the middle 1800's.

At the upper part of the pasture was that cross-island road which eventually took you to the community beach. But along that road was a very interesting structure known as the old stone barn. It was an imposing structure with large stonework walls and heavy timbered roof. The barn became sort of a community center in the summer months and was used for Saturday night movies, dances and pot-luck dinners. On Sundays it also served as a chapel.

In one wing of that T-shaped barn was a storage area housing several interesting vehicles. There was a black English Regency stage coach, a Stanley Steamer auto, several wagons and two or three sleighs. Several of those historic vehicles were used at Gilford Old Home Day celebrations and in Fourth of July parades. I'm told that the barn burned down in the early 1950's and all those precious items were lost.

On the undeveloped western half of the island, perhaps a half mile from the Sturrock place were the ruins of a once-grand stone mansion. All that remained when we lived there were the remnant walls and foundations of the large main building and a separate backyard kitchen building. Weeds and shrubs had pretty much claimed the place and you almost had to know where to look to see much at all. There is a legendary story about the owners of that big estate but I cannot corroborate the details so won't tell the story here. It was, I'm told, a magnificent estate. That old stone barn was part of the large complex too.

Just off the island, at the end of the causeway, were the houses of other close friends. The Jim O'Callaghans (with his wife Helen and sons Jack, Ron, Paul and Rick) lived in the summers in the second house from the bridge. It used to belong to the Buzzards in the pre-WWII days.

Next to them was the white cottage of Professor Edgecomb, a somewhat reclusive fellow but quite friendly when you did get to see him. His place had a nice little sandy beach that I used to walk when going from the bridge to the O'Callaghans. It was along that shore that I once caught a large pickerel fish while dragging a bare hook from just a foot of line at the tip of my pole.

A little way beyond the O'Callaghan place was that of the Millers. Cliff Miller was a school chum and camping buddy who often joined with us and Jack O'Callaghan for hiking trips or water skiing.

And not far beyond Millers was the Grappone place. Al Grapone was a pal of my younger brother and they often went boating together or fishing at the island bridge.

On the opposite side of the road and causeway from these folks was the property of the Mannings. It featured a beautiful long sandy beach. Their land was about a quarter of a mile long and widened as it extended all the way to the gate at the highway. It was an attractive place with many evergreen trees and wide lawns. A small building next to the road once served as a gate keeper's cottage for controlling access to the island.

Also at the entrance to the island roadway was a place owned by the Grider family. It too was quite nice and featured a sizable piece of land. There were numerous apple trees along the road which were irresistible in the Fall.

One of the things about living on the island that remains one of my favorite memories is the abundance of wild blueberries to be found in many places, most especially down the hill from the stone barn. I used to literally eat my way across those fields, pausing at hundreds of berry patches.

Living on the island was an experience that folks today cannot appreciate. It was a quiet and peaceful place to live and a great environment for a young boy to grow up. It was especially nice during the Fall, Winter and Spring before all the summer people returned. And during WWII when people couldn't get gasoline to come up there it was nice even in the summers.

The island was a wildlife refuge too. There was no hunting allowed and I think the deer, moose and other game animals knew it. I can recall camping out on the undeveloped side of the island and having deer sniff at my bedroll in the early mornings .. or seeing families of mink scurry past our beached boat and wild ducks sniffing around our food baskets.

We left the island in 1949 to follow my father to his Army posting in Virginia. I really missed it and have since returned for short visits in 1955, 1975 and 1990. It sure has changed.