To outsiders, the town of Orange might seem faintly like Brigadoon, the mythical Scottish village that rises from the mists every 100 years for a single glorious day.
That far overstates the sleepiness of Orange, though its media appearances in the wider world can be years apart. As one of the smallest of New Hampshire’s small towns, with just under 300 residents seemingly minding their own business, its stories and dramas are mostly contained within its borders.
But in the spirit of Daniel Webster’s declaration about Dartmouth College — “a small college … and yet there are those who love it’’ — Orange has its boosters.
This is their year, as the diminutive community makes a big deal about a milestone birthday — its own. On Wednesday, Orange kicked off a rolling celebration of the 250th anniversary of the granting of the town’s charter by representatives of King George III himself. Before the annual Town Meeting at the classically plain white Town House, about four dozen residents gathered for a potluck supper.
The coziness of the event resembled a church supper or club meeting as much as Official Government Business. Attire was Upper Valley casual, flannel and vests, winter boots stomped clean at the door. Attendees sat elbow to elbow at the tables, leaning in to chat with people they knew, that is, almost everyone.
Before Town Meeting commenced, organizers sliced a birthday cake, and Moderator Dan Hazelton read a copy of the original charter from “the year of Our Lord 1769,” drawing applause and chuckles about a couple of the stipulations: The founders were required to leave tall white pines uncut, to be held in reserve for masts for the Royal Navy, and to carve out a “good wagon road by March 1770.”
Gary Hamel, town historian, stood up, holding a scroll of his own. He said he hasn’t been able to find any record of the town celebrating its centennial or 150th anniversary, but now residents are affixing their signatures to a document affirming they are marking the 250th.
“They’re going to know 50 years from now what we did to celebrate,’’ he said with gusto.
The big doings that Orange residents have planned are in keeping with the town’s humble profile. Anniversary events, according to a posting on an unofficial town website, will include “a tree planting, an evening of music, self-guided cemetery tour, community barbecue and ice cream social, one-act play about Orange founder Nathan Waldo, traditional New England dance, Veterans’ Memorial dedication, presentation of a historical quilt, and more.”
Such business is conducted here on a personal scale. While elders in many area towns lament the loss of community closeness, it still remains in Orange. Moderator Hazelton said before Town Meeting that he knew just about everyone at the gathering, and Scott Sanborn introduced himself as road agent “for the one or two of you who might not know that.”
Bob Proulx, retired longtime principal of Lebanon Junior High, said “You really can get involved in the community,’’ when asked about the charms of his hometown. And, he added, with a grin, “of course you see all the same people at the meetings.”
Selectboard member Dorothy Heinrichs said quality of life is a major draw in Orange. She said she has found “elbow room” there. Others have, too. Heinrichs said residents particularly value the outdoors, of which the town has a lot. A large chunk of Mount Cardigan State Park, with over 5,000 acres, is within its borders, along with the 3,155-foot-tall mountain itself. Its likely that many of the hikers who trudge or scamper up it each year don’t even know they are in Orange, which has no stores, schools or churches for landmarks.
And yet there are stories to tell, said Hamel, who is working on a new town history for the anniversary. Without the great happenings that cities boast of, he finds himself piecing together stories of families, a particular challenge. “It’s like doing a 5,000-piece puzzle, with no picture on the box to go by,’’ he said.
For him it’s a task that’s been passed from the previous generation. His mother worked on a short history 50 years ago for the town’s 200th. Volunteers had just three months and no budget, and Hamel said he later found notes that revealed she had a grander vision for the publication.
“It’s a small town with a big history,’’ he said.
He’s enthusiastic about the story of Nathan Waldo, a founder who was a lawyer and Yale graduate. A one-act play will tell how he went from being wealthy to becoming a pauper in his old age, and how he was saved from debtors’ prison by someone else’s great sacrifice. Another local story is of a father, a lawyer, who helped his son escape when he was going to be tried for counterfeiting.
Orange’s population has waxed and waned through the years, climbing above 400 during booms in farming and the mining of mica, and dropping to as low as 82 in the 1950 census.
It nearly gained a minute (or perhaps 30 seconds) of fame in 1970 when the Birds Eye company sent a crew to Orange to enlist townsfolk for a TV commercial for Orange Plus, a frozen drink out to compete with plain old orange juice. A newspaper account said three-quarters of the residents took part in the filming, which centered on the question of whether they preferred the real thing or the new thing.
It was a two-day commotion, said Hazelton, who took part as a boy. But for some reason the commercial never aired, leaving little-known Orange entirely as it was — and pretty much still is.
Information about upcoming anniversary events can be found in the calendar section of the unofficial Orange town website at www.orangenh.us.
Dan Mackie can be reached at dan.mackie@yahoo.com.
