Milton New Hampshire: A Short Story

     Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes- a fresh, green breast of the new

The town of Milton Vermont lies on the edge of Chittenden County, on Lake Champlain and was chartered on June 8th 1763 by the New Hampshire governor Benning Wentworth. However the town did not have its first settlers until February of 1782. Some of the first settlers included William Irish, Leonard Owen, Amos Mansfield, Absalom Taylor and Thomas Dewey. (family search) Noah Smith was also a key player in the creation of Milton Falls; in 1788 he owned most of the land in the town. He made two sawmills and many other establishments in Milton. He then donated most of the land. At the time Milton was chartered it covered 67 miles of mostly forest and fertile land for farming. As the Railroad grew to pass through Milton

There wasn’t time for all her questions. It took all Gabe and Steve’s strength on one of the big ‘oars or horns’ and the Captain on the other one to get the boat pushed off from the sticky bottom of the loading dock. As the heavily laden boat moved into the open water, Alma noticed water seeped between the top of the bottom two boards. She took a moment to bend her head in prayer while the Captain steered with the long aft pole and both men worked the long sweeps to get the 16’ wide boat righted into the channel. She wasn’t sure, but guessed it was over three times as long as its

April 14th, 2016, 10:00 pm, on board the Norwegian Dawn. Jackson Shloo and his wife were at dinner, at the McDonald's on board. The rest of the restaurants were closed or too crowded at this hour to get a table. After their “meal,” they decided to have the night of their life, party in the club, then at Midnight go to the ship deck and watch the waves. Their kids were in their room on the ship, fast asleep, nothing could wake them up. Jackson didn’t know that he would never see them again, forever. 11:00 pm. Jackson and his wife were at the club, not drinking, but just dancing, nothing seemed different, out of the ordinary, deadly and life changing.

Alex is eating with three of his friends around nighttime. Alex peered out the window and saw a small light about ten miles away. Alex is curious because he has not seen a boat for over seven days at sea. Two hours later, Alex hears a loud noise on the west side of his yacht. Alex, and his friends immediately check it out.

Rene sat with me in the darkness down on the dock at Bush Lake. The water was black. Soft ripples on the lake scattered what little glare shown from the streetlight on the other side of the lake.

White’s use of detailed descriptions of how the lake appeared to give us a clearer picture of the impact, this memory served to him. There is a sense of creepiness when he, realizes he seems to confuse who he is in that moment. He, sees himself being his father (White 302). Further on throughout the day, it seems nothing has changed. The little instances of the boat being the same color as the last one, dragonflies flying about, and the waves. E.B. White, completely convinces himself for a moment that time simply has always remained still. Only until the simple moment of hearing the outboard motors, which threw him back into the present. E.B. White, states, “This was the note that jarred, the one thing that would sometimes break the illusion and set the years moving.” (304). His, expectation of the lake is now beginning to change, little things, are starting to show him time once again has continued to

Mississippi is a state located in the Southern United States. Jackson is the state capital with a population of around 200,000 people. The state overall has a population of around 3 million people. Mississippi is ranked low among the states in such measures as health, educational attainment, and median household income. Mississippi has been majority white, albeit with the highest percentage of black residents of any U.S. state. From the early 19th century to that period, it was majority black, a population composed largely of African-American slaves before the American Civil War. 40% of Mississippians were African-Americans, the highest percentage of African Americans in a U.S. state. Mississippi has been ranked the most religious state in

It was a normal hot summer day and my family and I, got up at 6:00 am to see the parade and fireworks, and also to visit family, on the Fourth of July.

Out of nowhere, flat seas turned into six foot swells and a light breeze turned into 20 knot gusts. A 13 foot Boston Whaler is a very sturdy, well-built, trustable as well as an unsinkable boat. But any boat below twenty feet won't handle six foot chop too well. So we turned around and pushed the throttle as far as it could go. The boat has a top speed of 35 miles an hour but in the chop we were probably going no faster than 20. We got to the Courtney Campbell Causeway and kept going. The causeway is pretty close to where we are docked and when on the north side, it provides cover from most chop and wind because it is lined with lots of sharp, jagged rocks. Once we got to that part we felt a sense of relief, which ended up being false. It still was pretty choppy. But then, out of nowhere, the engine stalled then died. "What's wrong?" My dad said in a concerned toned almost yelling. I tried to start the engine but it wouldn't

I shiver and my goggles fog up again. I stagger blindly towards the large white blob that I know is the motorboat. The water swirls and swishes around my legs as I walk against the current. I plunge one foot, then another, into the quaggy river bottom. “Almost there!”

A big smile breaks out on my face. Big red is what I call the big red outrigger canoe we own. I kiss dad on the cheek and rush out of the study. Big Red was were mom and me would spend our hours. Exploring the island together was my favorite pastime. Now that's she's gone I still go out almost everyday to feel close to her. I clutch the seashell necklace pendant she game me right before she passed away, sighing I tuck it into my shirt. As I climb on the canoe I push the big vessel out away from the dock so I can put up the sail. Big Red glides effortlessly through the crystal clear water. Looking down u can see all the exotic fish and corals of all different colors. I could live in this moment forever. I see some dark clouds in the corner of my and my heart stops. I quickly turn to the direction of the darkened sky and realize if I don't get home I'm going to be caught in a big storm. With all the effort I could muster I turn the rudder all the way to the right. The wind started hitting my face harder and the water became choppy. Struggling to keep the canoe afloat I saw an island in the distance. There's no way I making it home in this weather. CRACK! The mast snaps in half and falls right toward me. I watch it fall right next to me causing the wing of the boat to break off. I feel my body thrown into the air and hit the water, hard. Completely submerged in water I struggle to

July 5th 2016 was a very hot and very sunny day, it felt as if my skin was being cooked. My family and I went on the boat and hung out by the sand bar all morning. It’s mixed emotions being on the tube, considering the boat is going about 35 MPH, I’m on a tube in the wavy lake, connected by a rope to the boat. It’s hard to focus on one emotion. I’m excited and terrified all in one. Although we picture lake time always being a great time, that July day was not a great time. I remember feeling as if our bodies were giving in to the sun so we decided to call it a day around 2 PM. We approached the pier to pull the boat in. Our dock is a parking space in water surrounded by a wooden pier on the sides and the front. To prevent the boat hitting from the sides, my brothers, my mom, and I will grab the sides of the pier as my dad steers it.

I dip my paddle into water, and glide further along the evolving reflection. Little do I know that the girl looking back at me will soon change with the waters. Droplets spread from the tip of the oar, down the handle to weave between my fingertips. My grip tightens and my muscles tense as the faint sound of the fog horn lassoes my breath. I look behind me and the island of fun and adventure has now joined the white emptiness.

At the end of the dock is a sign that reads; "No Fishing, No Swimming, No Dumping"; a sign that is quite often recognized by all visitors of parks and lakes and as big as the windshield. Around the lake there a hills and valleys around Lake Lavon. $200,00 home are springing up like mad. Retirees, former airline pilots, and people generally burned out on big cities are discovering Lake Lavon. The small lake but the perfect weather, and the safe-quiet atmosphere are drawing people like a cover-up draws Ed Bradly. Without thought or hesitation we smiled and warmly held ourselves in each other arms and slowly sat down together at the end of the dock, put out feet in the water and the water was so cool like melted water from snow (to eat the strawberries we brought). The strawberries were delicious; red, ripped, and plumped; sweetness caressed our mouth with very bite. Some were quite sour, but was washed it away by an ocean of water every time. As supplies ran short she decided to play lazy and had me carry her to watch the people fishing by the dock. Although very distinctive and precise, I was like a bear; very step was heavy and short. To the left side of the dock about 200ft people ware fishing and kid's playing soccer on the field near the lake. By watching them play I remember my childhood, that my mother always took me to the Lake Lavon every weekend to fishing, and now I'm with my girlfriend holding her hand and watching people fishing and