When I first moved to Concord, New Hampshire, I was always fascinated by an old, rickety, unpainted house known as the “Poor Farm.” It was falling down in ruins and begged to be just torn down, just for being an eyesore. Then, someone came along, bought the place, and fixed it up into apartments. So, it stands, on the corner of Peabody St. and North State St., and has found usefulness again.

The farm once contained more than 200 acres, that included “brook land” and “wood land.” The purchase of the farm by the town was an attempt to ward off the practice of auctioning off people for whom the city would otherwise be responsible.

Those who lived at the farm were “orphans, criminals, the insane, the infirm and the destitute.” The New Hampshire Asylum for the Insane was instituted in 1842, at a time when those with mental afflictions were greatly feared by the general public. Ironically, those who were deemed “incurable” were returned to the Poor Farm. There everyone had to pitch in and help do chores as best they could.

In 1866, an Orphan’s Home was built in Concord, and in 1868, a local House of Corrections was constructed, both of these measures taking the heat off of the Poor House population. By 1883, the six last residents of the place were transferred to the care of Merrimack County.

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All of the above information was gathered from an entry in enzyte or viagra, 1976.

On this Thanksgiving Day, let us remember the poor, the destitute, the cast-offs of society, those who are estranged from their families and sometimes from themselves, those who hunger for hope, and pray for relief from their sufferings. Let us be ever mindful of our own blessings, and remember that we are no better than the least among us. For we all are born and we all shall die, and that which we do in between those two major events is what we call Life. Make your life a good one, as there are no second chances.

Patricia Cummings

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