I bet Frank Holman was a really neat guy, if something of a homebody whose idea of an exciting evening may have involved rearranging his sock drawer.

Painting the born-and-raised Nashua philanthropist a quiet, low-key guy is, by all accounts, a fair portrayal. But if I could get that rusty old time machine in the basement back into working order, the first thing I’d do is set the dial for May 1934.

That would have given me almost three months to hang with Frank, plenty of time to chat him up, maybe learn by osmosis his secret to becoming a man of such unimpeachable character while engaging him in his favorite subject: military history.

I’d ask about his generosity and how he drew on what must have been an all but infinite store of love, caring and devotion in order to attend to his elderly parents nearly around the clock as they failed so gradually over nearly two decades.

Those are only a few of the superlatives I borrowed from George M. French, a Nashua attorney who was Holman’s close friend and trustee of his estate, and who eulogized his late pal in his keynote speech on Sept. 23, 1937 – dedication day for Holman Memorial Stadium.

“Memorial” was soon dropped; the ample publicity and assorted signs and plaques made it quite clear that Holman Stadium was Charles Frank Holman’s way of honoring his beloved parents while bequeathing a sum sufficient to erect a first-class “modern athletic plant” he and his fellow Nashuans had longed for since the turn of the 20th century.

This weekend, more than 75 years after the first edition of the handsome brick-and-concrete facility rose atop an old neighborhood dump and the adjacent fields known as North Common, the Silver Knights, Holman’s newest tenants, are kicking off a string of promotions to celebrate the start of the landmark’s next 75 years.

Holman, a favorite son of Nashua, was born in September 1866, the only surviving child of Charles Holman, a successful candy manufacturer and onetime Nashua mayor, and Mary (Osgood) Holman.

He apparently never married. He graduated from Highland Military Academy in Worcester, Mass., but was denied what French called his “earnest efforts to serve in the Army during the world war.” (At 50 or so, he was probably deemed to old).

Back home, Holman dabbled for a time in his father’s candy business, then took up his longtime post behind the Nashua Public Library’s circulation desk. It was there, French said, that Holman devoured books on military history and frequently held court on the subject.

All the while, Holman was a regular contributor to years of what French described as “talk and (editorials in) the Nashua Telegraph suggesting the need of an athletic field, a ‘municipal stadium.’?”

On Aug. 15, 1934, Telegraph readers may have looked heavenward and whispered “thank you” when they saw the Page 1 story announcing that the late Charles F. Holman, who died several days before, had included in his will some $55,000 (some accounts say $60,000, others $65,000) “to build and equip an athletic field with permanent stands for seating … and a suitable entrance gateway … to be known as Holman Stadium in memory of Mr. Holman’s mother and father.”

The gift came at the right time. According to The Telegraph, as many as 1,000 men, hired through New Deal programs such as Works Progress Administration and Public Works Administration, had been working for nearly two years on a $300,000 federally funded project to clean up and level North Common and Artillery Field and ready them for future construction.

Federal funds also covered all of the labor that built the stadium. The local Knights of Columbus purchased and installed several sets of bleachers early on in the project, giving the fledgling field its first seating.

I’m not sure if was baseball or softball, but the dedication-day game between the St. Louis and “Card Shop” teams goes down as the stadium’s first game.

A few days later, giddy officials threw caution to the wind when they allowed the Nashua High School football team to take on Stevens of Claremont – then the state’s fearsome gridiron powerhouse, believe it or not – in the season opener.

“The football field is hardly ready for contests, but will be used on Saturday in spite of expected damage to the soft turf,” French said in his speech, referring to the Nashua-Stevens game.

Generations of Nashuans have walked through the arched gateways since French symbolically presented Mayor Alvin Lucier the keys that warm afternoon.

The reasons vary as widely as the visitors’ ages: Play and watch youth, high school and pro baseball and football; hear band concerts and competitions; joust for position to see a handful of semi-has-been tour musicians strut their stuff.

Older folks may recall the city’s grandiose centennial celebration in 1953, which revolved around the stadium. You certainly ran a 100-yard dash or a three-legged or sack race there as a kid before the “dangers” of self-made outdoor fun relegated our offspring to the “safety” of the den and video screens.

And there have been years’ worth of fireworks, exploding over tens of thousands of kids of all ages.

I bet you loved those crisp, winter days gliding around the big circle of ice near today’s infield, where park department guys worked overnight with Mother Nature to make a rink anyone could use – for free.

You might remember the big battle over adding beer to the concession stand menu, a proposal that accompanied the arrival of minor league baseball and the concert series. Months of debate, letters to the editor and political back-and-forth later, beer came to Holman for the first time.

There was the peace rally that officials tried to quell with fine print. Political rallies, most recently Mitt Romney’s gala. There were the short-lived Nashua Colts, the beloved and history-making but also short-lived Dodgers.

Don’t forget those traveling show teams, one of which featured that guy – his name escapes me – who was supposedly the fastest softball pitcher in the world.

And, of course, who can forget the granddaddy of all Holman-related furors, that late-’90s skirmish that separated newly arrived Nashua Pride officials, youth sports proponents, and rectangular-field friends and foes into as many camps?

Fortunately, those camps broke up long ago, relegated to a mere footnote in Holman Stadium’s legacy, in favor of the top story of summer 2013: celebrating Charles Frank Holman and his enduring gift to his native city.

Dean Shalhoup’s column appears Saturdays in The Telegraph. He can be reached at 594-6443 or dshalhoup@nashuatelegraph.com. Also, follow Shalhoup on Twitter (@Telegraph_DeanS).