Lessons Learned on Peary Street

Editor's note: The death of Jane Louise McGavin has kept the editors of this site preoccupied for some time and inspired some storytelling. This post begins a series of posts that explore stories, storytelling and how they influence families with a particular interest in facing the end of a long life. We are sorry for the distraction and invite you to in the discussion or to add stories of your family or loved ones. LHM

This book is a record in which Mrs. Clemens and I registered some of the sayings and doings of the children, in the long ago, when they were little chaps. Of course we wrote these things down at the time because they were of momentary interest - things of the passing hour, and of no permanent value - but at this distant day I find that they still possess an interest for me and also a value, because it turns out that they were registrations of character. The qualities then revealed by fitful glimpses, in childish acts and speeches, remained as a permanency in the children's character in the drift of the years, and were always afterward clearly and definitely recognizable. Autobiography of Mark Twain Volume Two

Shortly after my family moved into the house on Peary Street, we were greeted by Hurricane Hazel. When I left to form my own family, the Vietnam War drew our focus to the “generation gap” that separated many families. My father continued to live in the house on Peary
Street until he died almost six years ago. Just after Thanksgiving, my mother joined him under the tombstone adorned with seven little valentines that reads, “We were so lucky”. Sixty years of family stories begin with life on Peary Street and like Mark Twain's observation about recording moments of his children's youth, Peary Street's stories continue to reflect the character of the nine people who lived there for large parts of their lives.