In October 1981, The Christian Science Monitor explored a heated controversy brewing over the skies above the White Mountains, where two Air National Guard units proposed a Military Operating Area (MOA) for high-speed, low-altitude training flights—a plan that struck deep into the region’s identity as a place of quiet recreation and scenic beauty. What thrilled pilots as valuable preparation for possible combat scenarios alarmed hikers, campers, and local residents, who argued that sudden, engine-throbbing fighter sorties—sometimes as low as 100 feet above ground—could disrupt the natural experience and even threaten wildlife habitats. With voices from community advocates and public officials opposing the proposal and urging the Air Force to consider alternatives, the story captures a moment when local quality of life, tourism, and environmental stewardship clashed with military training needs over one of New Hampshire’s most cherished landscapes.

Published in The Yale Literary Magazine in November 1861, Howard Kingsbury’s “A Summer Experience” offers a vivid, first-hand account of the Yale Glee Club’s time in New Hampshire’s White Mountains at the height of the region’s 19th-century tourism era. Kingsbury writes of their stay at the Profile House, then one of the most celebrated grand hotels in the mountains, and of excursions into the surrounding landscape, including a visit to John Merrill at the Pool at the Flume. Blending personal reflection with careful observation, the essay captures the rhythms of travel, hospitality, and natural wonder that defined the New England experience for generations of summer visitors—and provides a rare glimpse of places and people that shaped the history of our region.

In her 1959 LIFE magazine article “Life in Washington,” Rachel Adams—wife of Lincoln native and former New Hampshire governor Sherman Adams—offered a rare, personal glimpse into the rhythms of political life from the perspective of a woman who carried the White Mountains with her into the nation’s capital. Writing at the height of her husband’s influence in the Eisenhower administration, she wove reflections on Washington’s social landscape with the steady values of her New England upbringing, shaped by the mill town of Lincoln and the rugged quiet of the Upper Pemigewasset Valley. Her piece is more than a Washington diary; it is a reminder that our region’s stories travel—sometimes all the way to the White House—carried by the people who call this place home.

By Jim Hamilton (Spring 1992, The Resuscitator) NOTE: If you’d like to start at the beginning, head on over to Bearding the Old Man—Part One Collecting information about the 1955 bearding of the Old Man of the Mountains led us to David “Stretch” Hays, trailmaster of the AMC trail crew that summer who had mentioned […]

Little is known about the first attempt to beard the Old Man of the Mountain because there are no known photographs or newspaper reports to document the event and the principal players included the celebrated son of the other “Old Man”—Joe Dodge—who would not have taken kindly to knowing that son Brookie “Hirum” went AWOL from Lakes of the Clouds to pull off the daring stunt. It’s interesting that the secret was so well kept that, years later, a second bearding party knew that Hirum and an accomplice had attempted to attach a tree to the Old Man’s chin, but were probably unsuccessful. After all, if a tree falls in a forest with nobody around to hear it, does it actually make a sound?