Today I Made History

Actually, I recovered some history. But before I tell you what, let me start from the beginning, since this story exemplifies the very concepts that devotees ascribe to the wonderful world of electronic communications.

About a week ago I was contacted by David. David is a huge fan of the only president to have been elected from New Hampshire – Franklin Pierce.

David had seen my images of the Kemp Truck Museum (here) wherein I waxed eloquent over a Linn truck. I like this camper/van/service/delivery truck, while most people who are obsessed with the Linn Truck company swoon over their logging tractor, one of, if not the only, half-track ever built for civilian service.

Here’s where the POWER OF THE INTERNET comes to the fore: my images of the Kemp Museum were picked up by a bunch of Linn Truck enthusiasts and linked to on one of their blogs. David – who is not obsessed with Linn half-tracks, was following a lead and his search picked up on the Kemp Truck Museum entry on their site and followed it here.(Here is the comment received from the Linn Truck Obsessors – rather long and appreciated history of the Linn Coach & Truck Company).

David then emailed me, going to great lengths to apologize and explain his obsession – something I assured him was not necessary. (I’m an obsessive science fiction fan and have known obsessive player-piano collectors, obsessive ceramic pig collectors and even obsessive barbed-wire collectors. Once you become an obsessive anything collector, you gain a true appreciation for the fact that obsession knows no bounds, no ethical or moral limits and certainly needs no explanation for anyone else who has caught this particular mental disease.)

In his first few emails, David explained that he was looking for the Pierce BBQ pit and did I have any local knowledge of the same?

Well, sadly, no. Neither did Karen, who’s been traipsing around these parts for the better part of forty years. A quick check with other long-time residents turned up nary a charcoal briquette.

Now let me explain that this is no ordinary BBQ pit. According to the accounts of the times, as many as twenty-five thousand people, some from as far away as California, attended the gala. Just about everyone except for Franklin Pierce himself. It was ‘re-built’ by the local chapter of the D.A.R., and they managed to cook an entire cow in the thing. What with 25,000 people being served, I can’t imagine that anyone got more than a taste.

David found a map of the “Hillsborough Bridge”, hailing from the late 1880s and stored in the digital collection at the Library of Congress. He sent this along. Fortunately, many of the buildings shown on the map still exist today – including the house I currently live in.

Here’s that map:

and David’s blow-up showing the BBQ pit circled in red -

The house I live in is immediately to the left of #9 above. Numbers 11 and 14 are the mill which is now an aprtment complex. That really tall smokestack is still there too, and this would prove to be cruicial. Kemp’s Truck Museum runs from approximately #13, south to where the BBQ pit is.

Karen and I stopped next to Kemps and then drove across the river to the Mill yesterday, where we took this image:

The house across the river is one of several on the Kemp property.

We identified a couple of locations that seemed to be the proper distance down-river and located ‘catty-corner’ to the smokestack, but all of those locations are actually behind people’s backyards now, so I had to wait until today to take a walk along the river. I started at Grimes Field (the local recreational facilities) and followed the river-walk path.

Eventually, it led me to this:

and for a view inside:

Obviously, it’s been a bit neglected since 1884 or thereabouts.

And here’s an image from a book called The History of Hillsborough, another link in the chain provided by David:

I think its pretty clear that we found it!

Kemps, and this associated piece of Presidential history, are both sadly neglected. Maybe I’ll stop in on the local chapter of the D.A.R. and see if they might not want to do something about it.

Regardless of its future fate, I ended up bringing a successful conclusion to a little local adventure that would probably never have happened if not for the internet.