All Things Maine

Looking Out at Main Street in Eastport, 1973

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 01:23:00 +0000

A photograph from the Environmental Protection Agency titled "Looking Out at Main Street in Eastport, 05/1973."

The Origins of Burnt Coat

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 07:00:00 +0000

Swan's Island was called "Burnt Coat Island" when James Swan bought it and two dozen adjacent islands sight unseen, July 7, 1786. In his History of Swan's Island, Maine, Herman W. Small offered an explanation of the earlier name:

Champlain gave the name of this island on that early map as Brule cote, "brule" meaning burnt, and "cote" hill—Burnt-hill. It is supposed that Champlain designated the island by some hill that had been burnt over. Some later discoverer translated "brule" burnt, but did not translate "cote", hence on his map he incorrectly gave this island the name Burnt Cote. Another, more stupid still, thought the former had made a mistake in spelling, and on his map had Burn Coat by which name it is called in a deed given October 28, 1790, as recorded in Hancock registry, book 1, page 28. Later it was generally known as Burnt Coat or Burnt Coal Island. [Link]

Brûle côte is more commonly translated as "burnt coast," and suggests that the island had been scorched by wildfires before the arrival of the French explorers.

An alternate theory attributes the name to Thomas Kench, "the island's first permanent resident."

Driven mad by the violence of the American Revolution, Kench deserted the Continental Army in 1776 and escaped to this remote place, where he lived as a hermit, far from the drums and destruction of war. As a deserter, he was said to have "burned his coat" or uniform: hence the name. [Link]

The island's name was again changed in the late 19th century, when the United States Geographic Board (consistent with its opposition to apostrophes) declared that it would be called Swans Island in official charts and documents—"Not Burnt Coat, Swan, nor Swan's."

The Forks Plantation

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 20:47:00 +0000

This Slate article on place names with definite articles calls to mind Maine's only municipality beginning with "The."

The Forks Plantation lies at the confluence of the Dead and Kennebec Rivers in Somerset County. Benedict Arnold's expedition passed here on its way to Quebec in 1775; construction of the Old Canada Road made the way easier for subsequent travelers. The plantation was once home to The Forks Hotel, which burned a century ago.

[T]he entire distance from Skowhegan to the Forks the roadbed is good, and the scenery is delightful. Skilful drivers replete with good stories add to the pleasures of the drive; and when you are set down at the FORKS HOTEL, you will agree with me in saying that you have had the pleasantest ride you ever took in your life. You will also be agreeably surprised to find such a hotel as you see here, way up in the woods. The house was built in 1875 by Ex-Governor Coburn, and Mrs. Joseph Clark is the present proprietor. There are but few hotels in the State that will surpass it for size, comfort and convenience. The rooms are large and handsomely furnished, the parlor containing a nice piano Water is carried to each of the three flats, and the house contains modern conveniences, unlocked for in such a place. The hotel stands on the bank of the East Branch (the main Kennebec) and in sight of the West Branch (Dead River) and the rooms all command fine views. The two branches unite a short distance below the hotel; and a little way below the Forks our artist made the sketch an engraving of which graces the following page. This house has accommodations for one hundred guests, and it is almost useless to say that Mrs. Clark's table is unexceptionable. During their season, fish and game are served on the table in abundance. The Forks are the centre of one of the greatest sporting regions of the State find the scenery in the vicinity is charming. Mrs. Clark can supply plenty of guides at reasonable prices, who know the country thoroughly, and who can furnish you with good sport. Trout have been taken in the East Branch but a few rods from the hotel weighing as high as three pounds.

Neighbor by Neighbor

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 07:06:00 +0000

Neighbor by Neighbor is a locally produced film about a grassroots effort to save a Lewiston neighborhood.

In the summer of 2004, the Mayor of Lewiston, Maine announced a plan to develop a four-lane boulevard across downtown’s low-income neighborhood. This project was called “The Heritage Initiative.” Contrary to its name, this plan was going to eliminate the downtown’s heritage by displacing 850 people from their homes as well as destroy playgrounds, vegetable gardens, and historic buildings. Moving residents out of the city and improving traffic flow was at the heart of this proposal… It was 1960’s Urban Renewal all over again.

As tragic as the circumstances were, the threat of a road destroying the neighborhood required residents to rise to the challenge of becoming community organizers. Instead of allowing their neighborhood to be paved over, the residents of downtown organized themselves into a group called “The Visible Community.” They received support from non-residents alike – social service leaders, college students, and other people who recognized the Heritage Initiative as an unfair way of “cleaning up” the downtown at the expense of the people who lived there.

Lakenwild: Maine's Swampland Scam

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 04:14:00 +0000

In the 1880s, N. S. Reed bought 500 acres of bog land and untamed forest in Hinckley Township (now Grand Lake Stream Plantation and marketed it as "Lakenwild."

On the extreme tip of the point he built a handsome residence for himself. He had a boat house and a substantial wharf. An elaborate prospectus, printed by a map publishing company in Philadelphia, his original home, showed this residence as the scene of a pleasant bustle. Around it spread Lakenwild carefully surveyed. There was a boulevard around the lake shore, and well arranged streets and parks. A splendid hotel was also pictured; steamers were shown on the lake; carriages with prancing horses helped to enhance the scene. It is probable that when Mr. Reed studied this engaging picture he sometimes forgot that much of this land, save where his own residence stood, was hopeless bog and forests and believed in his scheme.

These advertisements naturally appealed to the imaginations of many "over worked, ill fed and plodding clerks, mechanics, mill operatives" and other struggling persons. Thousands of lots were sold.... Some eager purchasers took several lots.

Needless to say, the new landowners were disappointed.

Someone remembers meeting an old man on the wharf there one day. The stranger was trembling; his eyes were wet. He had sold his house, he said, to invest in Lakenwild. It had been all that he had in the world. He had bought land with two or three hundred dollars of the proceeds, and spent practically all of the rest for a grist mill. He had expected to put up some sort of temporary shelter for his family, set up his grist mill and grind corn for the new settlers who, said one pamphlet, needed just such work done. He dreamed of eventually building a fine house, and of spending his last days in peace and prosperity. He found his land useless swamp land and no new settlers nor old either, in the region.

Investors would have done well to heed the advice given in the American Agriculturist of October 1887:

Maine is a great and growing State, her own people are shrewd and "awful" calculating, every man and woman down there know "jest how many peas there are in a pod," and therefore we think that this Lakenwild plantation, with its highly ornamental circular, the "slick" portrait thereon, and "testimonials," including the offer of lots at "ten dollars each, for a while," intending to hold their fellows "at one hundred dollars and upwards" by-and-by, is just a "leetle" too liberal. That the country is a good one for summer sports we know well enough, but that it is a good policy for our readers to go into real estate operations up there, is doubtful. Yet each one should investigate, with all that the word implies, for himself, and not depend upon pretty handbills, poetical descriptions by professors, or personal reminiscences of "wild-roving half-brothers," of long dead or now living United States Senators, when seeking "a home for which to have a deed." [Link]

The Cross on Maiden's Cliff

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 19:56:00 +0000

Barbara F. Dyer explains the origins of the cross on Maiden's Cliff in Camden.

A parking lot filled with automobiles very frequently is seen at the foot of Mt. Megunticook. Locals and tourist like to make the easy climb to Maiden's Cliff to see the view of Megunticook Lake from the cross.

If one is seeing it for the first time, their question may be, "Why [is] there a white cross as a sentinel on the sheer cliff?"

Answer: The cross marks a tragedy that happened many years ago.

Maine Book Search

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 17:49:00 +0000

The Book Search feature on my Maine Genealogy website narrows the scope of a Google Book search to nearly 1,500 volumes about Maine and its residents. Included are town and state histories, government reports, genealogies, travel guides, and biographies of notable Mainers.

Captain Enoch Snow, Maine Clambaker

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 23:25:00 +0000

The character Enoch Snow in Carousel was named for a real sea captain from Scarborough known for his clambakes.

After moving his family to Wells and later, Scarborough, in the 1840s, Enoch began harvesting clams to use as bait for commercial cod fishing. At that time, locals enjoyed the white-shelled clams cooked on the shore over seaweed on heated rocks, as the Indians had taught them in the 1600s.

After the Civil War, the Boston and Maine Railroad came to Pine Point. As a result, clambakes became a tourist attraction. The railroad also enabled clammers to easily distribute their products outside of Pine Point, leading Enoch to become a clammer instead of a sea captain.

This was the same family that founded F. H. Snow's Canning Company in 1920. When the 1956 film version of Carousel was released, stars Shirley Jones, Gordon MacRae and Robert Rounseville attended a clambake with Enoch's great-grandson in Scarborough.

Wayne's Circular Cemetery

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 05:20:00 +0000

Wing Cemetery near Pocasset Lake in Wayne is laid out in concentric circles, with an obelisk at the center.

The concentric circle design of the cemetery was an engineering feat, Ault said. Those working on the cemetery, for example, had to temporarily move at least 39 graves while the redesign took place. Then they had to carry out a sophisticated plan for the property, cutting arcs from granite and shaping grave plots around them.

The concentric circles turned out to be a carefully conceived plan to reflect Wing family genealogy. The eight-sided obelisk at the center carries the names of all seven original Wing brothers. Descendants are buried in rows emanating out from the inscribed name of their Wing brother ancestor. [Link]

The cemetery is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and is counted as one of the Seven Wonders of Wayne, Maine. See also "Search for the Origins of the Wing Family Cemetery" (and its background image).

Salvaging Logs From the Penobscot

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 04:35:00 +0000

Thom Labrie and Bruce Loring of UnderWater Wood Specialists in Greene are harvesting timber at the bottom of the Penobscot River.

The wood — mostly pine — was cut by loggers and sent downriver for processing likely between the late 1700s and the 1970s. Logs that sank along the way were abandoned. Although the logs were extremely saturated, little else was wrong with them. The cold water kept them that way, preserved.

Enter Loring, the diver, and Labrie, the environmentalist with a background in the wood industry.

"I don't care if it's sitting in a building that's going to be demolished. I don't care if it's in a pallet. I don't care if it's under water. All the wood that's usable should be used before we cut down another tree," Labrie said. [Link]

Vincent's Beverages and Sunset Beverages, Lewiston, Maine

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 01:39:00 +0000

From the archives of The Soda Fizz, a 2003 article on Vincent's Beverages and Sunset Beverages—both bottled in Lewiston.

There were bad times too, when a fire did serious damage to the plant in November of 1951. But the infamous disaster was the wire-brush incident in November, 1952, when Irene Lajoie drank a bottle of Sunset Ginger Ale and claimed she became ill because there was a rusty wire brush in the bottle. She and her husband sued, and the press picked up the story.

Although Gerry Bilodeau explained convincingly that a brush in a bottle was impossible and the jury awarded the Lajoies only a fraction of what they had asked, the result was still not exactly the sort of publicity a small business wants or needs.

Miss Minnie Libby, Village Photographer

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 19:24:00 +0000

Included in Google's new LIFE Magazine archive is a profile of Minnie Libby, portrait photographer of Norway.

In spanning half a century of Norway's life, Miss Libby's big camera has recorded most of the personal history of the town—the dude who became a Communist, the boys who became businessmen, the girl who languished over a pet pig.

Miss Libby—few call her Min or Minnie—goes around in knickers, men's shirts and a flowing bow tie. The iron-gray hair that frames her face makes her look something like John C. Calhoun. A first-class photographer all her life, she worked out her own technique as she went along.

Leonard Trask, the Wonderful Invalid

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 04:52:00 +0000

A Brief Historical Sketch of the Life and Sufferings of Leonard Trask, the Wonderful Invalid, tells the sad story of a man from Hartford and Peru who suffered a horrible injury when thrown from a horse in about 1833. Three subsequent accidents made his condition progressively worse, until Trask's spine became so deformed that his chin rested on his chest.

He has no power to move his head up or down, to the right or left, without moving his whole body; his neck, and upper part of the back, having become perfectly rigid, and the whole upper part of the spinal column, in the opinion of skillful physicians has become ossified.

In his prime he was erect, of symmetrical proportion,—standing six feet one inch in his boots, and weighing 199 pounds. To his chin he now measures three feet nine and a half inches; and to his shoulders, which are now the summit of the trunk, he measures four feet ten and a half inches, and weighs about 134 pounds.

Showhistory.com has a rare carte de visite of Trask, taken in Lewiston near the end of his life. Leonard died April 13, 1861, and was buried in the Oldham Cemetery, Peru.

The Isles of Shoals: A Geo-Anomoly

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 01:25:00 +0000

Twelve Mile Circle has a nice account of the Isles of Shoals—an archipelago Maine shares with New Hampshire.

Sir Ferdinando Gorges and Capt. John Mason received a joint land patent that included the Isles of Shoals along with a large tract on the mainland in 1622. A few years later they decided to divide the grant and each negotiated a portion of the Isles as part of the transaction. Mason retained the southern portion to form New Hampshire. Gorges retained the northern portion and associated it with land that would later become Maine. Thus the geo-anomaly exists primarily because two parties split fishing rights nearly four hundred years ago.

Those islands belonging to Maine fall within the jurisdiction of the town of Kittery.

Finding L. L. Bean's Birthplace

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 22:17:00 +0000

I've just written up an account of my search for the birthplace of L.L. Bean on my Maine Genealogy website.

Sins of Our Mothers

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 03:26:00 +0000

Sins Of Our Mothers was a 1989 PBS television special telling the story of Emeline (Bachelder) Gurney—a woman from Fayette who accidentally married her own son.

Here is a subject, centered around rural New England life in the 1800's, that has little or no pictorial documentation. Yet as David McCullough, the series host, points out in a brief introduction: "It's amazing how many telling details of long-lost lives can still be recovered."

At the heart of the story is Emeline Bachelder, born into poverty in 1816. Her tale has become a legend in Fayette, Me. In the mid-1970's, a fictionalized version was written by Judith Rossner in the novel "Emmeline." In attempting to separate fact from fiction, truth from legend, Mr. Hoffman and Mr. Collins use oral histories, archival material, town records and dramatized sequences. In the process, they come across a wonderful collection of Yankee types. There is, for instance, Mrs. Murphy, who is asked the year of her birth. "I was born 103 years ago," she snaps. "You figure it out." [Link]

1931 Maine Central Railroad Schedule

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 21:16:00 +0000

Here's a scan of a Maine Central Railroad schedule from 1931. The Maine Central Wikipedia entry details the "retraction" of the railroad after World War I.

Following World War I, Maine Central began retracting. It sold or abandoned lines such as the narrow gauge logging systems, as well as its ferries and steamships. In the 1930s it began to change its locomotives from steam powered to diesel powered.

Faced with increased competition from cars, trucks and buses, Maine Central operated its last passenger train on September 5, 1960, and continued to reduce its freight business to reflect changing traffic.

The Maine Central doesn't yet appear on this 1860 map of New England railroads, but shows up on the 1899 version.

Shepard Homestead Excavation in Kittery

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 06:26:00 +0000

The homestead of one of my earliest Maine ancestors, John Shepard of Kittery, was excavated in spring 2002 as a joint project of the History Department of Salem State College and the Kittery Historical & Naval Museum. A map drawn in the 17th century helped in the excavation.

William Godsoe had drafted a map of this specific area in 1689. The map shows Shepard’s house, barn, an outbuilding and the orchard, as well as the home of his neighbor, Paul Williams.

The pictorial and archaeological evidence of the Shepard outbuildings is extremely important, for it gives a chance to closely study not just a seventeenth-century home, but the entire farm complex. While much work has been done on seventeenth-century farm out buildings in Virginia and Maryland, the Shepard site is the first site in Maine where outbuildings have been found.

Maine ZIP Codes

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 01:11:00 +0000

This Google map mashup shows the boundaries of most of Maine's ZIP codes. Codes run from 03901 (Berwick) to 04992 (West Farmington).

Perham's Closing

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 21:12:00 +0000

Perham's of West Paris will be closing in July after 90 years in business.

The store, which sold minerals and gems as well as books and equipment for prospecting, was opened in 1919 by Stanley Perham. In December, Stanley's daughter and current owner Jane Perham said she would close the store until June 1, but the business did not reopen.

In addition to the store, the business includes a museum display of gems and minerals unearthed at local quarries. Perham and her father have sent samples to the American Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian Institution.

The pieces in the museum display will be given to a private party who will keep them in Maine. Perham said her brother was hoping to keep the quarries he owns open for public access as long as they are covered by liability insurance. [Link]

Her brother, Frank Perham, is Maine's leading expert on pegmatites, and even has a mineral—Perhamite—named for him.

Ed McMahon, Bingo Caller

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 19:55:00 +0000

Ed McMahon got his professional start calling bingo at a carnival in Mexico, Maine.

On our arrival in Mexico it turned out we had joined one of the toughest carnivals on the road. The night before a guy had been killed by another guy. He got angry and hit his friend over the head with a sledgehammer. That smarts!

The carnival had closed for the night and the wake was going on when we pulled into the grounds and started setting up to be ready to start calling bingo bright and early the next morning. This was hard work and all five men in the troupe including Frank, the boss, worked at it. It meant raising the tent, setting up the counters in the interior and the display table in the back, hooking up the PA system and the lights that would make the prizes look prettier than they really were.

We did what they told me was good business and I was enjoying the whole new experience tremendously. I was beginning to feel at home among the people, the sights, and the smells of the carnival and I wanted to be 100 percent one of them. [Here's Ed: The Autobiography of Ed McMahon, pp. 87-88]

Free Access to Images of America

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 17:29:00 +0000

Until July 31, 2009, you can browse several Maine titles from the Arcadia Publishing Images of America series. If asked to log in, enter:

Username: reviewer
Password: 69preventative2

Local and Regional History Online: A History of American Life in Images and Texts is a unique new resource cultivated from Arcadia Publishing's award-winning series of local history books. At completion, it will include over 1 million historical images and texts, celebrating the places and faces that give America its spirit and life. All of the images and texts have been indexed to provide an unprecedented level of access into the contents, enabling users to explore the depth of a town's history or to compare the histories of various towns, cultures, ethnic groups, architectural features, and more.

Portland Ink

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 17:52:00 +0000

There's a great post today at Strange Maps about the city of Portland, inspired by an unusual tattoo.

Fixing her regional loyalty in indelible ink on skin, Julia had a map of Portland, ME tattooed on her shoulder. A comparison with the more conventional map on the right indicates that her tat clearly shows the Portland peninsula, the Fore River, Back Cove and surrounding coastline, plus a large part of the road network connecting Maine’s biggest city to its hinterland.

Endangered Sturgeon Found in Saco River

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 16:53:00 +0000

A rare shortnose sturgeon was caught in the Saco River this week.

While the Atlantic sturgeon had seemingly disappeared for about 100 years, its more rare cousin had apparently never been seen in the Saco. At least not until researchers pulled one up Tuesday.

"It's crazy," said James Sulikowski, assistant professor of marine sciences. "Nobody had any idea that we would catch a shortnose."

Squiers, for one, thinks it may be another sign that the state's only known spawning population of shortnose sturgeon – in the Kennebec and Androscoggin rivers – is expanding. He and others believe one of those fish paid a visit to the Saco.

"Shortnose sturgeon were thought to stay within their natal river system," he said. "It appears, based on the work in Maine, that they're moving more than thought." [Link]

The Duke Launches a Battleship

noreply@blogger.com (Chris) — Sat, 13 Jun 2009 16:46:00 +0000

Lisa Paul shares this story of John Wayne christening a ship at BIW.

An executive at the Bath Iron Works, the shipyard that has been producing US Navy vessels for over 100 years, told me about the time John Wayne was invited to christen a battleship. He smashed the champagne bottle over the hull, which was supposed to signal the hydraulics to release the ship down the ramp and into the water. Nothing happened. In as superstition-riddled an industry as the maritime world, this is the greatest bad juju — pretty much a curse on a ship for all time. There was a horrified pause. Then the Duke reached out with one long arm and gave the bow of the ship a shove. It slid down the ramp to thunderous applause. [Link]