By Trish Regan
As we were greeted at the main entrance and the bellmen took s we turned through the gates onto the long, winding mountain driveway, I stared up at a massive white hotel complete with Spanish Renaissance-style red roof titles... I’d never seen anything quite so majestic. A ATEA PARTY ATBRETTON WOODS
I was just a teenager when I accompanied my parents to Bretton Woods for the first time, deep in the heart of New Hampshire’s White Mountains. It was the mid-1990s, which meant the Mount Washington Hotel itself was somewhere in its 90th year of existence... But it had all the trappings of an even earlier time. This was old-world European style. Towers graced each end of the building, and gables punctuated the roofline. The site was breathtaking... The building really stood out in the middle of otherwise rural New Hampshire.
our bags, I gazed around “the Great Hall” as it’s known. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high, elegant ceilings finished with crown molding, and a huge fieldstone fireplace that was even taller than me housed a roaring fire. I remember taking in the view off the massive veranda... rolling green hills for miles, and nestled in the valley was a large swimming pool. Past the pool and the tennis courts – through the hills and the snowcapped mountains – was the highest point in the northeast: the great Mount Washington, for which the hotel was named.
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American Consequences
17
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