Growing Up

I grew up in a small town outside of Boston, Massachusetts called Scituate. Before high school, I moved 4 times. I was born in Scituate, which has its own harbor, and then 6 years later moved to Weymouth. After Weymouth, we continued moving north, ending up in Haverhill, MA. 5 years after that, we crossed the southern border of New Hampshire and now live in a small town of about 7,000 called Hampstead, NH. Since I grew to age 6 in Scituate, we’ll revisit some of the sights and sounds of that beautiful little fisherman’s town.

Above is a map of Scituate. Boston can be seen to the north, and if you were to continue to the southwest, you would eventually reach New York. It is the second furthest outcropping of land in Massachusetts, with the first being Cape Cod. Fishermen, wharfs, and the US Coast Guard call Scituate home, and I remember very vividly trips down to the water to see the boats.

This is an aerial view of Scituate Harbor. I lived on small street called Egypt Lane, and I would walk around and describe the neighborhood houses to my parents. Scituate has been a port town for over 200 years, and the houses were all built to accommodate the sea captains and fishermen who used to live there. Many of the houses are quite old, and the architecture was based on the amount of money the inhabitant had. Fishermen generally lived in smaller, less spacious houses than wealthy sea captains, who had multiple bedrooms and verandas, as well as roof patios.

My upbringing here was very dependent on the sea culture. I would be taken down to the beach, and the smell of the sea wouldn’t wash off you for days. My pockets would be full of sea glass on my walk home, and the toy store in downtown was a sure stop. the lighthouse was constantly lit, and smell of saltwater taffy was in the air.

Time to go back and visit, I think.