About The Folsom

A Note from Dr. Folsom

I kept a practice in this village for some thirty years, which meant the house was never entirely mine.

People came up South Street at all hours, in the dark, in March mud, in weather that should have kept them home. A man with a hand crushed at the mill. A mother carrying a child too quiet in her arms. They knocked, and Lucretia put the kettle on, and someone was always sitting in our front room who had not been invited and did not need to be.

That is what the house was for. It was a doctor's house, but what it really did was take people in. Whatever else has happened here since, that has not changed, and I would not permit it to.