I was born on Friday the 13th; I remember my Mom telling me she tried to hold me back so I would not be born on Friday the 13th, but she could not! I wanted out! 

She was happy that I had Green eyes, Green eyes are scarce.
Green eyes are the most rare eye color in the world. Only about 2 percent of people in the world have naturally green eyes.

I was born in the Northeastern region of the United States, where my earliest memory takes me back to a moment when my father and I in my diaper, were peering down a rabbit hole, eagerly anticipating the appearance of a furry, long-eared creature. It wasn't long before a rabbit emerged, and I was filled with a sense of wonder and amazement, igniting my lifelong fascination with wildlife.

Another early memory is when I was very young and had a fever. In this memory, I recall feeling as though my hands had inflated into two large balloons and that I was floating out of my crib. This vivid dream is still very clear to me, and whenever I hear the song "Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd, I am immediately transported back to that strange experience. The song's lyrics seem to perfectly encapsulate the surreal feeling I had in that moment: "When I was a child, I had a fever. My hands felt just like two balloons. Now I've got that feeling once again. I can't explain, you would not understand. This is not how I am. I have become comfortably numb." Despite the strange and somewhat scary nature of the experience, I have come to appreciate it as a unique and memorable moment from my childhood.

  Throughout my childhood, my family moved several times, but one of the most memorable places we lived in was a grand brick house, its walls adorned with lush, green vines and the cooing of pigeons echoing in the air. My father used to shoot at the pigeons, hoping to deter them from nesting on our roof, but they were housed across the street on the roof of another house, as the owners raised them for sport. Despite the challenges of moving and adjusting to new places, I always found ways to explore and enjoy my surroundings. My friends and I spent endless hours playing games like hide-and-seek and tag, often in the cemetery down the road, where we would walk back and forth, being careful not to step on any cracks in the sidewalk lest we break our mothers' backs. These memories evoke a sense of nostalgia and remind me of the joy of simple pleasures in life.

Back in the day, when the Fuller Brush man came knocking on our door, my mom would go into panic mode. She would frantically gather all five of us kids and we would all hide under the bed, trying our best not to make a single sound. It was like a scene from a comedy movie. We were like a bunch of ninjas trying to avoid detection! Looking back, it's pretty funny to think about all the effort we put into avoiding the Fuller Brush man. But to be fair, those products were so good that some of them are still in use today, 50 years later!

I have a distinct memory of the day my uncle phoned my mother to inform her of his return from Vietnam. His voice was filled with excitement as he asked if he could visit and stay with us for a while. Overjoyed to hear from him, my mother welcomed him with open arms and asked when he would arrive. My Uncle Bobby's reply was unexpected, "Right now, I'm across the street at the gas station." We all rushed outside to see him walking towards our brick house. As he approached, we could see his military uniform in all its glory. It was as if he was walking with a sense of purpose and pride that we had never seen before. Every detail of his uniform was impeccable, from the creases in his pants to the shine of his boots. The eagle on his cap and the medals on his chest were a testament to his bravery and service to our country. I could not help but feel a sense of awe as I watched him walk towards us. His return was a momentous occasion that filled us with pride and joy.

The brick house evokes many emotions within me, some less than pleasant. One of the most vivid memories I have of that place is when I contracted Bell's palsy, a condition that temporarily paralyzes facial muscles. As a result, my right eye remained open, and the right side of my face appeared droopy, giving me a distorted appearance. Although the condition wasn't painful, it was disconcerting to see my face like that. I still remember the day my mother walked into my room and saw me in that state; it was a moment of shock and concern for both of us. However, I found some solace when Halloween came around, and I dressed up as a pirate, sporting an eye patch over my right eye for weeks.

Another disturbing memory of that time was being circumcised at the age of five. I remember being in the hospital awaiting surgery with a bunch of kids who were getting their tonsils removed. I remember there was a hush on my problem; as far as the other children were concerned, I, too, was getting my tonsils removed as well. But the truth was they were about to pull my foreskin from my penis surgically. 

It was a nightmare! I remember lying on the operation table, and the doctor touched me, and I screamed like crazy as they put a mask over my face, and that was it; I was knocked out. I will never forget that scream as the doctor touched my private parts. It is the most brutal scream I have ever screamed. I remember waking up to a black, crusted groin and some uncomfortable pain. I could not imagine why my parents would put me through that. Trying to get me out of diapers I guess?

During my childhood, every summer break meant a road trip with my parents and sometimes siblings to my grandmother's house in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. My grandfather worked at a paper mill in Lincoln on the second shift, so we rarely saw him. However, whenever he made an appearance, he was amazing! He was a woodworker and would craft wooden guns in his woodshop for us. They looked so realistic! He would also make whistles out of a branch from a tree. One of his projects was an ice house he built for my uncles' Mobile gas station, and we would play in it until it was delivered to the station.

My grandmother used to work as a housekeeper at a motel located near Clarks Trained Bears. On occasion, we would assist her with cleaning the rooms.

Most of our supervision when we were growing up in the white mountains was provided by our aunts and uncles, namely Punky, Dick, and Brenda. They would take us to all the fun places around the area. We visited various local swimming holes in the Pemigewasset River such as Gravity, Mother's Bathtub, and Cascades. 

I had a great time fishing and hiking with my cousins and siblings all over the mountains. One of my most cherished memories was the hike I took with my brother Mike - the best hike ever! We climbed up Mount Lafayette to Haystack, then Lincoln, and finally down Liberty. 

We also hiked to the top of the Old Man on the Mountain. I'm grateful that we were not there when the Old Man fell off the mountain!

Many summers were spent in the White Mountains, stay tuned for the rest of the story

Before leaving, my dad would always take us to see Clarks trained bears. He was friends with the Clarks, as he had gone to school with Ed and Murray Clark. They always let us in for free and we would ride on the train engine, pretending to load coal and drive the train. I have many fond memories of spending time with the Clarks, playing with and feeding the bears, and sled riding with the Alaskan Husky dogs.

Remembering Ed and Murray Clark

Edward M. Clark

Edward M. Clark, a towering figure in Lincoln, passed away on September 24, 2009, at the age of 85. Ed was born in Mamoroneck, NY, and his family moved to Lincoln when he was just four years old. He was a man of many talents and pursuits, epitomizing Yankee ingenuity.

At the age of 18, Ed was dispatched to Iceland in 1942 on a top-secret mission to train British troops how to handle Eskimo Sled Dogs. The mission was to go by dogsled behind enemy lines in Norway to destroy a heavy water plant. He then joined the US Merchant Marines, where he served for the duration of World War II, participating in the invasion of Normandy in June 1944.

Ed co-owned Clark's Bears with his brother W. Murray Clark, a tourist destination that has been entertaining summer visitors for over 80 years. In the early 1950s, the Clark brothers began rescuing steam locomotives from the cutting torch, creating "green pastures for iron horses" at the Trading Post. With an impressive collection of locomotives, including models by Climax, Heisler, Shay, and Porter, the White Mt. Central RR was born.

In 1963, Ed dismantled a 1904 Howe-Truss railroad covered bridge in East Montpelier, VT, with his two teenage sons Eddie and David and a dedicated crew. They transported the structure to Lincoln and reassembled it to span the mighty Pemigewasset River, adjacent to the Trading Post grounds. This bridge is the world's only Howe Truss railroad covered bridge still in active use.

Ed was environmentally conscious long before it was fashionable. Together with his son Tom and son-in-law Peter Govoni, they began the development of hydroelectric power in 1979, resulting in power plants in Lisbon, Littleton, and Bartlett, NH.

Ed had a life-long love for his hometown of Lincoln. He settled here after traveling the world as a merchant seaman, declaring that "All roads led to Lincoln." Together with his wife, Joyce Avery, they raised five children, Eddie, David, Carol, Tom, and Anne. Ed served on the Town's budget committee for many years and was selectman from 1962-1968. He was one of the original promoters of the White Mountains as a tourist destination by helping organize the White Mt. Attractions Association in 1958 and served as a charter director of the White Mt. Regions Association.

Ed's mantra to "Think Big" and "Be Great" should inspire us all to strive for excellence in our own pursuits.

Honorable W. Murray Clark

Lincoln - Hon. William Murray Clark of Murray Drive, Lincoln, passed away January 7, 2010, at age 82. Born on January 26, 1927, in West Milan, he was the son of Edward Pullman Clark and Florence Murray Clark.

His legacy as bear trainer, showman, and eMurray was an entertainer at Clark's Bears for over 50 years. He performed with his beloved show bears, entertaining thousands of visitors each season. He was a great storyteller, sharing tales of his childhood in Lincoln, anecdotes about his bears, and behind-the-scenes glimpses of life as a bear trainer. Murray and his brother Ed believed that a visit to Clark's Bears should be both educational and entertaining, and they were avid collectors who displayed artifacts from the past to teach through preservation.

Murray loved to travel, and his visits to Scotland were particularly special to him. In February 1943, just weeks after his 16th birthday, the British government recruited him for a secret mission to train Royal Scots Fusiliers to handle 40 sled dogs supplied by the Clark family for the war effort. Murray often said that his time in Scotland during World War II was the greatest adventure of his life.

Murray graduated from Lincoln High School in 1944. He was class president, valedictorian, and the youngest member of his class at age 17. Murray enlisted in the U.S. Navy in March 1944 and attended officer training at Williams College and Brown University. In 1952, he married Barbara Avery of North Woodstock, and they worked together at the Trading Post for 50 years. Their four children - Nola, Maureen, Murray, and Andrew -- began helping at the Trading Post as youngsters and are still actively involved in the business.

Throughout his life, Murray was involved in his community as a firefighter, Boy Scout leader, and president of the Lincoln-Woodstock Chamber of Commerce. He was elected to the NH House of Representatives in 1972 and served ten years as a Representative to the General Court. Murray often used sled dog analogies to illustrate the importance of teamwork and stressed that the success of Clark's Bears was the result of many people all pulling in the same direction. At an anniversary celebration, he said, "The success of Clark's Bears is not the result of the work of any one or two individuals, but rather the efforts of many people all pulling in the same direction. What you see at the Trading Post today was not done by one generation of family, but several generations...it was a long, hard pull from 1928 when my parents looked over this land... The entire Clark Family and lots of helpers have worked at what you see-no one person can take credit for it."

"What a great destination for families traveling through the White Mountains!"

My journey in the 70s began when I was 14 and just graduated from a parochial school. I spent six years taught by  Roman Catholic Nuns, a member of a religious community of women, especially a secluded one, living under vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. 

Although it was not my choice, it was a challenging experience that shaped my beliefs. Catholic school taught me discipline, endurance, and, most importantly, the importance of living in love and peace. I call it faith, but some say it was more like brainwashing.

I was so naive back then, but I'm grateful for the values instilled in me. Unfortunately, the world today is plagued with violence and war. As Christians, we can make a difference by spreading love and kindness. Let's strive to create a world where people coexist in harmony without killing each other.

Back then, your friends were your classmates; no outside contact with the rebels that went to public school, no parties, no boyfriends/girlfriends, just classmates.

They taught me well. I probably graduated with a twelfth-grade level coming out of the eighth grade. 

 Was that a good thing? " Being too smart for my own britches,, as my mother would say.

Not for me; it gave me attitude, and I wanted nothing more to do with school. They were boring me with things that the Nuns had already taught me. Especially after I met the neighborhood public school boys; they were already drinking, doing drugs, and, according to them, having sex!

What world was this that I just stepped into?

The first thing I discovered was the music! To this day, it is the best music ever written. Good ole rock and roll!

I loved Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, and the list continues. The first thing I did was get a job logging with my uncle to get money to buy albums. Yes, that's what they called them back then: vinyl albums. I plastered the album covers, inserts, and every article about them on the walls and ceiling in my basement room of my parent's house.

My parents thought I had gone mad! Then they met my new friend Rickey, who has super long hair and a rock-and-roll approach to life. Oh boy, it was on now! 

The first party I went to with Rick was my first encounter with marijuana, acid, and alcohol. I thought I was on the Highway to Hell!

 That was the day I met all Rick's friends, including Bob, when he came down from the upstairs room on Shaker Pines Rd with Lorie; Rick introduced me to them as an item; Bob was probably 15, and Lori was 18 already. Rick said they had been having sex upstairs. Again, I asked myself, what world is this I have just stepped into? It was like the real world had just started to open up around me. 

When I saw Bob with his long, straight blonde hair and how the Girls flocked around him, I started growing my hair long; it seemed like a good idea then.

Rickey and I walked home that night, and he introduced me to electric milk, as he called it. Rick mixed some chocolate milk with some powered mescaline, which is known for its hallucinogenic effects comparable to those of LSD and psilocybin. WOW! That is all I can say! 

Rick and Mark, Bob's older brother, had a band called Whiskey River. Bob played bass, and Rick was the drummer. We all became good friends.

We were young, but we all managed to purchase motorcycles. Mark and Rick purchased the 250 Honda dirt/street bikes, and I bought a Honda350 scrambler.

We raised hell on those motorcycles!

After meeting all of Rick's friends, I found myself hanging out at KK's house, a hub for all the neighborhood kids. There was not much adult supervision there, so we were all doing drugs and a little sexual experimentation going on.

One night Rick picked me up and had Cheryl in the front seat with him. They were on a date I guess. As soon as I laid eyes on her I was interested in her. We hit a dog that night with Ricks car. When we all got out of the car to see what we hit I noticed Cheryls butt and was speechless.

I bugged Rick for days before he finally showed me where she lived, then it was on! I had a job driving an ice cream truck for goodhumor, so mI drove my truck to Cheryls neighborhood until finally she came out. She had ripped up jean shorts on and was carring Angela a foster child in her arms whos mother was addicked to cocain at birth. Poor Angela had club hands and feet from her mothers addition. So sad!

I fell in love with both of them at that moment!

I never went back to KK's house, Cheryl was now my mission!