Not on my watch

 Not on my watch!



We return to Bone once again for a heated discussion where I had to bite my tongue and hard. From my experience at the History department reference desk I came to believe in Historic Preservation Zones as a way of keeping archictectural integrity intact and safe from developers. In this integrity part I am one with the famed Daphne, the empress of Metcalf road. Squam lake is as remote a place as someone from Los Angeles could imagine but the locals keep a fine archive of happenings on that little slice of heaven in New Hampshire. In looking around online you can find  reports from the Sandwich Home Industries , papers of the Squam Lake conservation suciety, the excursions of the Sandwich Historical Society and the monograph Kinship and Landscape at Squam Lake where one might read about canoe trips made by "Mims" Butterworth. If it were up to the Metcalf contingent Squam would have remained  as it was when Teddy Roosevelt was in office. Yet as the author Derek Brereton stated "truly rustic camps are incommodious." 

    I happened to be on one of my visits when some do-gooders showed up trying to enlist these old-time squam people to join in an effort to become a historic zone with  rules and regulations that would keep the dear place from being spoiled by dot.com billionaires and hedge fund managers. Trouble was the old-time squamfolk wanted no part of anyone telling them what to do with their properties. Being part of an HPOZ does mean you can't make changes on a whim but have to maintain the original intent. When the zone gentleman showed up Mister Robert August Ziesing showed him the door. The sputtering Roy barked "NOT ON MY WATCH!" within earshot of Greg and therefore was immortalized for his stainless steel rectum about HIS camp. 

 




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