News and Events for Nantucket Island
by Robert P. Barsanti After I got the call, I spent an hour or so in my mother’s photo albums. During one of my mother’s chemotherapy summers, she organized a life-time of snapshots and Polaroids into a series of books. Film, in particular Polaroid film, was expensive. As a result, […]
by Robert P. Barsanti I imagine that they had come into some money. Not an amount of money that would require lawyers, stock brokers, and accountants. But some money. Enough. So they rented a house in Tom Nevers with four bed rooms, three baths, and a distant water view. They […]
by Robert P. Barsanti We believe in summer sun, but the truth of Nantucket is fog. Nantucket lies near the confluence of the warm water Gulf Stream with the Canadian Labrador current. The waters mix and mist over the shallow water of the George’s Bank, and the sand bars leading […]
by Robert P. Barsanti My son has spent much of his summer elbow deep in mayonnaise, mustard, and meatballs. He has been apprenticed into the family trade down at Henry’s Jr. and has been feeding the working people of Nantucket one sandwich at a time. He has learned the special […]
by Robert P. Barsanti You can get anything you need on this island before eight o’clock in the morning. In the summer, we bring too many people onto the island, take their money, rent them cars, and then say a little prayer that nothing bad happens. And generally nothing does. […]
by Robert P. Barsanti You know that the Fourth of July has arrived when someone declares her independence by driving her BMW the wrong way down Main Street, parking on a crosswalk, getting the Sunday New York Times and an Americano, then trying to drive the wrong way up Union. […]
by Robert P. Barsanti “Family desperately seeking housing.” The sheet of paper has been rained on and faded in the early summer sun. It hangs on the message board near The Hub, next to the lost sunglasses, misplaced cats, and forgotten rock bands. They were being forced out. There were […]
by Robert P. Barsanti On Saturday, I was driving the island with the heir to my empire of dirt. After a solid month of damp and polar fleece, the rain crept north into the the Gulf of Maine and the fog line remained hung at the horizon off to the […]
by Robert P. Barsanti He is one of us. He stood at the checkout line at the Stop and Shop with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, a gallon of 2% milk, and a box of Cheerios. The cashier spoke to the woman in the next aisle in something like […]
