An eclectic museum cannot be replicated, it just kind of evolves, one donated piece of history at a time until voilà, you have created a coveted treasure whose flavor and character cannot be replicated. That is the Historical Society, with the old.
Who knows at the time what memories will stay with them all their lives?
Arriving on the island one morning just after the new year in 1973 with Peder Schaefer, a friend and co-worker from summers at the Narragansett Inn, I literally took off for an island tour in a jeep Eleanor Mott had graciously made available to us.
The day was bright sun, charged by a blistering wind that blew us from side to side down the deserted roads, the light glinting off the snow and ice which enveloped the frozen landscape in every direction. After we descended Bush Lot Hill and headed toward Sandy Point, the sight of ice boats racing up and down Sachem Pond came into view.