Sun filled days and rolling waves,
  I was the child young at play.
A harbor safe upon the land,
  I followed footprints in the sand.

Tender years met rising tides,
  a hand to hold, hearts to guide.
Sun kissed breeze and shifting sands,
  dreams took hold in this Nomad's land.

Starlit skies met rippling tides,
  rays of moonbeans filled the sky.
Autumn clouds touched the shore,
  paths discovered to explore.

Winter winds did come to shore,
  shaping waves on the abandoned shore.
Seasoned wisdom, growing years,
  footprints vanished that are no more.

Choices passed on the ebbing tide,
  ticking clocks the years go by.
Hues of blue fill sea and sky,
  rainbows sought and tears subside.

Bouncing balls and flying kites,
  fireworks streaming in the night.
The little boy that held my hand,
  when did he become a man?

The little girls with their sand-filled pails,
  the castles built on the wind-swept shore.
Sun bleached curls to wedding veils,
  faith in dreams do prevail.

Beacons of light in the night.
  piloting course, new horizons rise.
Breaking dawns in the quiet morn,
  the love remembered does live on.

Echoes of voices, memories here,
  changing dreams and answered prayers.
Shadows linger in the sand,
  visions lauched, God's untold plan.

Summer days come each year,
  this Sandpiper returns to shore.
Swaying grass in sun-filled dunes,
  new dreams come forth on this salty shore.

Treasure shells lay to be found,
  tidal pools swirling round.
Soaring gulls, look and see,
  the Sea rolls on into infinity.

Hands that hold while other's lead,
  familiar strangers, landscapes to see.
Dreams come true, as you can see,
  "New" footprints here to follow me!

Millie Gerry Cogan

In these prosperous days where both the residential and commercial real estate markets are booming across the nation, it just doesn't make sense. The fact that the Farragut never had the opportunity to open its doors even once strips away even the briefest of histories. Each time I pass it, it reminds me of a person without a soul. Isn't there anyone who wants the Farragut?
Brendan Connelly
b_connelly@hotmail.com
http://www.seacoastnh.com/wentbysea/1920.html

EDITOR'S REPLY: And don't forget the Sea View Hotel. With the Ranger, the Statehouse the Wentowrth, etc, we've decided not to save anything this week. Whew! This preservationism is hard work. We're just back from a pleasant Cafe Brioche-sitting interview for a feasture on the web site inthe Manchester Union Leader. "How come we're so hooked into this old stuff?" they want to know, and "How are you going to make a living this way?" Well, we can feel the movement. More and more people are listening, asking questions, arguing -- and all about local history. These may just be tremors, but they indicate shock waves ahead. Like Willie Nelson says, "Still is still movin' to me."
http://www.seacoastnh.com/earlyphotos/memoriesnh/ph4.html

Think about it. The Ocean House in Hampton Beach. The original Farragut Hotel on Route 1A. The old stone Friary in Rye. All of them gone. These were not just architectural masterpieces but some of the very pillars of our New England heritage. As critical to our legacy as the Pantheon is to modern day Italians.

But they're all just memories and photographs now.

Unlike Robinson, I never actually spent the night or attended a business conference at the Wentworth but I vividly recall the short trip from Hampton to New Castle each summer during the 1970s. My parents would load all five kids into the station wagon and park directly in front of the entrance to the Wentworth. We would charge around the gardens and argue about whether "The Ship" was seaworthy or not. My first recollection of the Wentworth was that it was the most beautiful building I had ever seen. I was too young, at that point, to recognize the richness of its historical significance. But as I grew into my teens and twenties and developed a strong love for New England architecture and history, Wentworth-by-the-Sea always stood out as one of the last great bastions of the NH seacoast.

But then they began cutting away her appendages piece-by-piece, as if the monstrous white structure had been hopelessly riddled with cancer and diagnosed much too late. The author failed to mention that only the central structure of the once-enormous Wentworth Hotel remains standing. Gone forever are the massive extensions that once protruded from both sides of the existing structure, like the immense wings of an albatross. I have lived in New York City for the past seventeen years, but the Wentworth Hotel has always held a particularly fond place in my heart. But Mr. Robinson and I have something in common. Each time I return to the seacoast region, I try to avoid Wentworth-by-the-Sea. I'm not sure I can bear to see what else they've done to her. For me, the Wentworth has already passed into the realm of memories and photographs.
Brendan D. Connelly
b_connelly@hotmail.com
http://www.seacoastnh.com/arts/please042499.html

EDITOR'S REPLY: This local genealogy group is open to those who can track their ancestry to a Piscataqua colonist (pre-1776). The group formed on June 15, 1905 and meets only once each year at Yoken's Restaurant in Portsmouth. Since the five Piscataqua rivers and tributaries travel through many local towns, the membership possibilities are pretty wide for area descendants. Piscataqua spouses may become associate members. The current registrar is Duncan Chaplin of RFD #2, Box 668, Wingate Rd, Center Barnstead, NH 03225-9103.
Pat
PatRMaison@aol.com

EDITOR'S REPLY: This local genealogy group is open to those who can track their ancestry to a Piscataqua colonist (pre-1776). The group formed on June 15, 1905 and meets only once each year at Yoken's Restaurant in Portsmouth. Since the five Piscataqua rivers and tributaries travel through many local towns, the membership possibilities are pretty wide for area descendants. Piscataqua spouses may become associate members. The current registrar is Duncan Chaplin of RFD #2, Box 668, Wingate Rd, Center Barnstead, NH 03225-9103.