About Tom French

Tom French splits his time between the Adirondacks and the Thousand Islands from his home in Potsdam. More information about his writing can be found at Tom-French.net.

Reader Interactions


  1. william c hill says

    Yeah!! I’m glad someone was able to connect all the dots of this story together! Well done Tom.

  2. Richard Daly says

    ” … It was your typical Adirondack ‘beer’ camp.” says it all, in seven (7) easy to digest words. My own ‘exposure’ took place in Delaware County NY in the 1970’s … in my own 40’s. North of Rte 17 in the NYCity reservoir areas. We named it Kettle Camp for the ’40s vintage kettle found intact just off a path. Where are you now? Artie (rip+) owner, and Fred and Bill (both retired and collecting checks$ – “Our Gang” from The Bronx. Me in MicroPolitanPlattsburgh NY, older than I ever thought I’d be!

    • Tom French says

      Hello Richard — Thanks for reading and commenting. Small Adirondack Camps for hunting or otherwise are a huge part of Adirondack culture and history. I hope everyone does what they can to preserve that history even if it’s just a photo album, guest book, or journals.

  3. Annette Seidenglanz says

    My great grandmother’s name was French. They lived in Trenton, NJ.
    Just sayin’ – probably lots of them.

    It seems like these places of men’s camps are disappearing. At the shore in NJ there were lot’s of uninsulated fishing huts which have succumbed to the real estate demands on the barrier islands for rentals and second homes.

    • Tom French says

      Hello Annette — Thanks for reading and commenting. Fortunately, little enclaves still exist in the Adirondacks in the form of hunting clubs and private holdings.

      The French side of my family entered the North Country from Canada in the 2nd half of the 19th Century. I’m told it’s actually an English name, so we may very well be related in the distant past. Some French has also mixed into this branch of the Frenches.

  4. Jeanne says

    I too, laid my wonderful pop to rest on a peak in the Adirondacks. A special place that means so much to my husband and myself. No stone needed. When I released his ashes on the peak a bald eagle flew over head. Back at the campsite in the backcountry were logs cut into living room furniture. Returning just one month later no sign of even a log! It was a very special weekend! My husband won’t ever forget.

  5. Megh says

    Can someone tell me who the man in the blue jacket and tan gloves is in the first photo? He looks like someone I know.

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