Search Results for: ‘Holman’
One happy feature of our bonus 24 hours in Dorset, Vermont (scroll to “Brokedown Mountain” post) was that Peter and I had the whole afternoon to visit with nearby Stan Hynds ’83 and Stephanie Moffett-Hynds ’84. Driving the brand-new fine-furniture transport truck graciously loaned us by our Dorset host Steve Holman ’78 (Dodger loved the back of the truck, very spacious for lying down), we first stopped at Stan’s place of business, Northshire Bookstore. Northshire is an independent bookstore of the kind I had been missing without even knowing it: a thriving, multi-leveled, labyrinthian hub of discovery and solace smack in the middle of the naturally lovely and gloriously isolated town of Manchester, Vermont.
Some years back, Stan and Stephanie moved from Pasadena, Calif. to Vermont, the move the fruit of their search for a place where he could professionally relish his love of the book business, where she could pursue professional acting, and where they could rear a family removed from the worst of the world’s current craziness. They found it. From Northshire Bookstore, Peter and I drove to Arlington, Vt, where we found Stan and Stephanie’s straightforwardly, unfancily sprawling home on a lush Vermont mountainside piled high with books and artistic sensibility–not a television in sight. There is a TV in the guest house out back, a converted workshop of a previous owner, Stephanie told us over cheese and fruit and brews. Two winters ago, she said, the Moffett and Hynds clan and friends would pile out there in their coats and watch through the mist of their own winter’s breaths as the Wildcats played their hearts out. Stan and Stephanie and kids Wally and Sarah would run laps around the house to celebrate Wildcat leads, and to stay warm.
The real warmth on our visit in August came from the story of the return of the ring. Some year or so ago, Peter had received a Davidson class ring in the mail from a couple, with a note saying they had found it in on the back of a sink in a public lavatory, and had intended to return it immediately, but it had ended up for some 20 years in the back of a drawer. Oops. Long story short, the ring had belonged to Stephanie’s dad, Dr. Bill Moffett, Sr. ’54, and furthermore, she had been with him the day it disappeared! He died in 1995, but Stephanie and her mom were thrilled to get the ring back.
[Update 8/12/10 per Peter Wagner's mom (Hi, Marlene!) re beach roses (see photo gallery): "News from my mom… the things that I’ve always called “salt water roses” are in fact “beach roses.” And it is indeed a rose, but not necessarily native to Maine (although they’re EVERYWHERE, and in my lifespan I certainly think of them as native – when I really try I can imagine how they smell)." — Peter Wagner '92, Director of Alumni Relations"]
Past the shipyards in Bath to Bates College in Lewiston to lighthouses on the Maine coast, then on to Portsmouth and Concord and Hanover in New Hampshire, Dodger and Peter and I made our way those first fateful days of “Road Trip 2010: Up the Eastern Seaboard.” We climbed rocks and rode waves, gobbled lobsters and whoopee pies, traversed hills and dales. At dark on Day Two, we passed up a sketchy’n'foreboding New Hampshire no-tell motel out in the sticks where no one would hear you scream, in favor of trudging onward anon to an establishment featuring indoor pool, outdoor lighting and the promise of hermetically-sealed muffins come morning. We wi-fi’ed, we rested, we swam.
En route the next day, Day Three afternoon, my classmate and class secretary Kelly Sundberg Seaman ’85 pinged us back from our on-the-road contact via the Alenda Links online directory to say that she was indeed in Hanover, where she works in public affairs at Dartmouth College. A happy hour we then spent at a festive l’il cafe in Hanover, taking in the passing college-town scene and talking shop about media relations, communications, and other aspects of our jobs that we can sometimes make seem easy because they are fun.
Day Four, and Day Five it turned out, we were in Dorset, Vt., at the home of Steve Holman ’78.
[N.B. Yes, this blog is a little out of order based on the chronology of our travels. I found this summer that, unlike Road Trip 2009, when you cram all the events and visits and mileage into one week instead of six, there's precious little time for Wifi and blogging.... so I'm catching up!]
George up at Long Trail Auto called at 9 on Friday morning to say the car was fixed, so we had to leave the Holman/MacGarvey compound. I sadly left my hammock. It was a swell stay with grand folks in an idyllic spot, and a plethora, nay a myriad plethora of happy laughs. Southerners got no lock on hospitality, and God’s country is what you make it. A big, big, BIG thank you to the Holman/MacGarvey clan for going the extra mile, fun and funny Steve Holman ’78, lovely and talented (and funny) Georgine MacGarvey, and their two fine sons Jeff and Brett.
Dorset, Vermont. Yesterday a lovely evening with the wonderful Steve Holman ’78 and Georgine MacGarvey, artists of custom furniture, painting, architecture, landscape, and life in general, including sons Jeff and Brett. Here, they pose with their own personal, garden-variety Venus de Milo as Peter and I prepare to wend our way southward:
Now, the tow truck is on the way, and Steve and Georgine are fixing lunch. Did I mention how wonderful they are?