I love Wilmot. Made my third storytelling trip there – one in 2005, one at Old Home Day last summer, and one last week, on one of the coldest evenings of winter. But town hall was warm and the Wilmot crowd was even warmer. Here they are, amused. Did you ever see such a handsome group? Dressed for the weather, too, in layers.
One fellow told about old-timer Clinton Williams. Seems Clinton was helping him locate the corners of a wood lot he’d bought in Grafton near Isinglass Mountain. Clinton knew where the pins were and, even though the snow was deep, the new owner got the picture.
As the two men returned to their vehicle, they cut across a big field. It was snowing and some windy. Up come a wicked snow squall that enveloped them, knocked them sideways, and smacked their faces. “By gorry,” Clinton Williams said, “that was a regular Dorchester thaw!”
My friend Walt Walker came to the program. I asked him to pose in front of the old hand-painted scrim. Here we are just a-grinnin’.
Signing books after the stories, I was surprised when a stranger asked for my car keys. She said, “If you give me your keys, I’ll start you car so it’ll be warm when you’re ready to leave.” She did. And it was. Good thing too, the thermometer on the rearview mirror read 8-below when I pulled out of town hall yard.
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