He lived 27 years alone in the woods—now forced out and his home destroyed, will “River Dave” ever return?

“All a man owns, you take away”

On July 15, David Lidstone, an 81-year-old American, found himself behind bars, accused of illegally squatting for 27 years on a property in Canterbury, New Hampshire. His beloved two-story wooden cabin—cramped but wired for daily living—burned to the ground on August 4. The fire’s cause? Still a mystery, according to local police. The loss is particularly painful for Jodie Gedeon, a friend from nearby Boscawen, whose heartbreak was palpable.

“He’s going to be devastated. This was his home, the only one he knew,”

she told the local Union Leader newspaper. Convinced the fire was criminal, her Facebook posts pressed for the culprits to be punished “for their inhumanity and cruelty”—and reminded everyone that the flames could have spread, starting a forest fire.

A Life in Hiding—and a Home Worth Fighting For

Dave lived there as a recluse, shrouded by towering trees, atop 73 acres of woodland. His cabin was so isolated that the only way in was by boat, up the Merrimack River. The land had been owned by the same family since 1963, who had no personal plans for it, according to the Associated Press. But since 2015, the current owner, 86-year-old Leonard Giles, wanted River Dave out—to demolish the house and reclaim the land.

That year, a town official alerted Leonard Giles to Dave’s presence, expressing concern over unpaid property taxes, waste management, and “potential zoning violations” (as stated in legal complaints seen by the AP). In court, defending himself with no lawyer, Dave claimed his house was no more than a simple hunting and fishing shack. The judge didn’t buy it and told him to leave in exchange for his release. There’d actually already been an eviction order in 2017, but River Dave steadfastly refused to budge.

“The ball’s in your court,”

warned Andrew Schulman, the Superior Court judge of Merrimack County. Dave could walk free if he agreed never to return to his cabin. Judge Schulman admitted Lidstone didn’t harm anyone, but said the law was unequivocally on the landowner’s side. He even encouraged the landowner’s attorney, Lisa Snow Wade, to work with Canterbury officials on a solution that might let Dave stay. “It’s not like society doesn’t know how to build a septic tank,” he quipped.

Community Support and the Fight to Come Home

Since his arrest, local support for Dave has poured in. The loss of his cabin hasn’t stopped neighbors from rallying to help him reclaim the only home he’s known in almost thirty years. Three different GoFundMe campaigns were launched on August 4 and 5, raising a little over $2,000 so far—all meant to help River Dave find a new place to live.

Jodie Gedeon, who’s been his friend for two decades, has been relentless—coordinating community efforts, ensuring Dave isn’t left homeless, and documenting every step via Facebook. Summing up her action plan after a recent town meeting, she wrote:

“Now, we need to talk to the owner and the lawyer to see if it’s possible to lease or sell the land to Dave. Then, meet the city’s requirements.”

Those requirements include building an access road and installing either a septic tank or outdoor toilets.

River Dave: Independent Spirit, Local Legend

Dave is nothing if not clear about his home. In a 2018 video portrait by local channel WMUR-TV, he declares:

“I did all the plumbing. I did everything. There’s not a single nail in that house I didn’t hammer myself.”

At 78 that year, he laughed about “new generations who don’t even lift a finger,” and was bemused the reporter had made the trip out to see him in the first place. Resourceful and handy, Dave reused and built almost everything by hand. He proudly showed off his vegetable garden, home-grown cucumbers, and solar panels, all topped up with fresh creek water. Inside the seemingly cluttered cabin, everything had its place and purpose, down to the old VCR parts he refused to throw out. At one point, he even rigged up satellite TV—until, inevitably, the signal was cut off.

“I never get bored,” he told WMUR-TV in 2018. “I have chickens and a cat.”

He often greeted boaters and kayakers from the riverbank, occasionally sharing a bit of their food, while locals have long brought him supplies and treats. Over time, “River Dave” became a kind of local celebrity—a hermit, sure, but very much part of the world. He receives social security, owns a smartphone, and collects mail.

Originally arriving with his wife as a country escape, this U.S. Air Force veteran ended up settling in for good, turning the hideout into his main residence. His four children would regularly visit. His younger brother Vincent, 77, summed it up best:

“He’s 81. Just leave him be.”

Before the fire, River Dave would sit with a beer on his porch, taking in the view. Now, all that remains is the question: will he ever want to return to that land?