A Washington Day's Walk to the Snow Summit

A walk in a snowstorm in February can be enjoyable. The wife and I tried it on Washington's Birthday afternoon, just for the thrill. Summit Avenue was our choice because of the steep hill and the fact we wanted to take a look at the Haskins Hospital property that the town is attempting to get rid of.

The walk was worth at least one effort, but here's one who'll pick smoother terrain for a snow-storm jaunt. That hill is more than a challenge. It's a booby trap under such conditions. Just pity the poor residents in a grim winter. All the sand in China would still not be too much for their sidewalks.

Naturally, Molly, the boxer, was along. To her it was paradise, for here were new worlds to conquer, new yards to probe. Snow and ice hiking hardly bothered, except once. And even she slipped back two steps in attempting one ahead.

Up by the attractive hillside home of State Police Lt. Richard Sherburne, we saw brave young souls banging a basketball through an outdoor hoop. Weather never phased them a bit as they popped 'em through. Rockport High School freshman Dick Travers was in the group, having his flings.

Summit Avenue could be called a street of impressive stone walls. There were many of them, high ones, low ones, rugged in every detail and reminiscent of a glorious past. All we could think of was the back-breaking work that went into the construction of these sturdy property boundaries. A porch with rounded roof, and in fact construction, graced the one-time Tate house of the past at 9 Summit Avenue. Elsie Schwartz came to the door to tell us about the place.

The wife spoke to her about the huge bushes of rhododendrons in the area. These bushes seemed to stand out much more than in other neighborhoods of the town. A lot of nursing must have been done to bring them to their present size.

On top of the hill, we came to the house of Roland, light green and modern. Roland Hildonen and his wife, the minister, Rev. Nancy Hildonen, intend to do much in developing their property, we were told.

Just ahead, it looked to us as if we were approaching a manor of the past. The tall stone gates of the Leander M. Haskins Hospital challenged our progress. But there were no frowning guards to bar our way. The only residents of the extensive property today are the Bill Kinghorns

Near-panic seized us, for ahead was a cat ambling without thought of an enemy being abroad. We are all too aware of Molly's pet peeve --any feline. And we had no desire to have a scene of dog chases cat in a neighborhood with which we were at peace. But for a wonder, Molly at this juncture was snouting around a stray dilapidated bone. Even a cat could have crossed her bow unnoticed.

The Haskins property was turned over to the town years ago to be used by the town as a hospital. For a space Dr. Clement Heberle of Gloucester conducted the establishment as a hospital. But for years, the main building has been without a tenant, an empty eerie on the hilltop.

It was hardly a day for enjoyment of the spectacular view that we have thrilled to from here in the past. The snow was really swirling, and agitating us more by the minute, and it was so thick you couldn't see to the bottom of the avenue. Sliding down the hill, we caught our breath long enough to spot attractive small colored panes on the windows of Tim Reardon's home which he styles most appropriately, "Top of the Hill." And near the bottom, a tiny winter-made frozen pond boasted some young ice skaters among whom was 9-year-old Frank Somers.

Our advice, wait for our next snowy day and then try that hill climb and fall down - but wear your snow treads!

Jim Clark