First Night in Portsmouth Re-visited

The first selection in my new book Outtastatahs: Newcomers' Adventures in New Hampshire describes First Night in Portsmouth.  This week, my wife and I lived that event over again.

It wasn't easy. My wife hates cold weather, and the long range forecast had temperatures plummeting to 2 o F. that night. She was not at all enthusiastic about going outside in such frigid conditions.  I promised that we would only attend performances inside the warm South Church and never stray outdoors. Also, a revised forecast now had the low reaching only 12 o F. - a veritable heat wave.

Grudgingly, my wife agreed. She bundled herself up like Nanook of the North and we mushed, make that drove, to Portsmouth. Boreas, the purple-winged Greek god of the north wind, smiled upon us, and we found a parking space a snowball's throw away from the South Church.

Inside the church, Rock My Soul, a gospel music quartet plus back-up band, took the stage. These four women did the impossible - they took an audience of stolid, taciturn, dispassionate Granite Staters and got them on their feet, singing, swaying, shouting "Amen"and clapping their hands, a miracle only slightly less impressive than raising Lazarus from the dead.  Even my wife's face, shrouded by a hooded parka, was smiling as she banged her mittened hands together in time to the music. Good job, Rock  My Soul.

The hour between 7 and 8 p.m. was set aside by the festival  for the fireworks display at South Pond, so no performances occurred during that interval. What was the likelihood that I could get my wife to step outside into the cold to see the display? Not a snowball's chance in Hell, as it were.

So, we went downstairs in the South Church for a chili supper provided by volunteers at the South Church for a $10 donation, the money going to the needy in Belize. It was just about the best $10 meal I've ever had, complete with a choice of three different chilis (beef, chicken, or vegetarian), chunks of moist, crumbly cornbread, coffee that put local coffee houses to shame, and home-made cookies big enough for wheels on a wagon. Yum.

The South Church is Unitarian. I have enormous respect and admiration for Unitarians. They are friendly, ethical, tolerant, community-minded, and well educated. If everyone in the world were Unitarians, the crime rate would plunge and wars would  end.

And you always know when you are in a Unitarian Church - things are just a little different. The rest rooms are marked  gender (men or women), handicapped, and trans-gender. (I told you that Unitarians are tolerant.)  The walls are covered with schedules for composting (Unitarians take care of the environment) and short tributes to other church members describing why they like them (Unitarians move toward, not away from, other people).  And, for the second year in a row, the elevator didn't work. (Unitarians are not particularly practical.)

At this point, my wife and I faced a challenge. We had an hour to kill before the next performances and didn't know anyone in the dining area. But it wasn't really a problem, as it turned out, because one of the church members and her son sat down beside us and carried on an animated conversation (I told you Unitarians are friendly).

By now, my wife had warmed enough, both psychologically and physically, to make the trip to North Church to see our favorite local musician, T.J. Wheeler, and his ensemble.  Wheeler and the group feature blues, a bit of R & B, and jazz. Besides Wheeler, who plays guitar and banjo, the group included harmonica virtuoso "Hatrack" Gallagher (he's really, really good), jazz violinist Ellen Carlson (she's really, really good), drummer Gordon Gruttenthaler, bass Melvin Graham, and tap dancer (yes, tap dancer) Ayan Imai-Hall. An accomplished group - all.

We first bumped into T.J. Wheeler many years ago at a First Night where in an obscure venue he was patiently teaching young kids about musical instruments. A worthy effort, but hardly a featured act. This past week,  his group played to a standing room only crowd in North Church. I trust the difference marks a much-deserved rise in Wheeler's career.

My wife was so enthused by Wheeler and his group that she walked without complaint through the chilly night air back to the car. We took a quick peek at the newly-lighted Memorial Bridge (impressive)and headed home. Said my spouse, "You know, I had a good time - cold and all."

Now, that was an accomplishment. Not quite as impressive as getting impassive Granite Staters to stand, clap, wave their hands, shout "Amen" and sing, but an accomplishment nonetheless.

(Outtastatahs: Newcomers' Adventures in New Hampshire can be purchased at River Run Books in Portsmouth, The Water Street Bookstore in Exeter, Gibson's Bookstore in Concord, and on-line at amazon.com and barnesandnoble.com.)