Once again, it’s the paper, the documents that hold the town’s history that are the backbone of our collection. And because we’ve collected so much of it over the LHS’ 45-year history (Jackie Watts founded the Historical Society at a 1975 meeting in her living room) much of it has never even been read.
The other day, I went rummaging through our collection – no, not literally through boxes and boxes of random stuff – but searching our database for the original deed to the property. Both Connie Parker and I remember there was a deed. Connie, by the way, has been the other half, with me, the duo who catalogued literally a couple of thousand items since about 2003.
Yes, we 2,000 plus citizens of Lincolnville have differing political views, views that run from one extreme to the other. But in the end, when we’re up against some seemingly overwhelming problem, we ignore those differences, get out the pots and pans, whip up some food and have a supper. A public supper.
When Jackie and Maurice Watts were both facing cancer diagnoses at the same time, the fire department pulled out all the stops and put on an unforgettable supper for them, raising thousands of dollars along with raising their spirits. It was a collective “thank you” card from the whole town to a couple who had themselves contributed greatly to our community over the years.
Dave found the kitchen empty; from the bottom of the stairs, he heard the murmurs of the women’s voices in the bedroom with Mary, so he went out back to pace and wait. How funny life can be, he thought. Here he was, fifty years old and about to become a father again. He’d been sure that part of his life was over when he and Lura divorced many years ago. A certain hardness sets in when a man loses his family life, to say nothing of the house he built, a house that held his heart, soul and bank account. Still, he could hold his head up; he’d done right by his oldest daughter, Leila, and her mother. That house, perched on top of Rankin’s Hill [380 Camden Road
This Week in Lincolnville: Christmas in the Trenches
..a century ago Mon, 12/21/2020 - 11:15am
A gallery of Shebang photos. What happened to all those wonderful handmade masks? Are they tucked away in barns and attics all over the midcoast?
Photos by Liz Hand
Take a minute and listen to John McCutcheons’s
song “Christmas in the Trenches”. Probably you’ve heard it before, but maybe not. It happened just over 100 years ago, when World War I was devastating France. The story of the Christmas truce held particular meaning for my husband, a connection of sorts for him to the father he never knew.
This Week in Lincolnville: Playing Games
.who, me competitive?? Mon, 12/14/2020 - 10:45am
Don’t try to pick out faces. This happy group didn’t live here. See below for who they are
Photo courtesy Jane Liedtke
A selection of Barbara Bentley and Julie Turkevich’s fabric cards. No two alike!
Photo by Julie Turkevich
I’m on a losing streak, one that never seems to end. That’s not a metaphor for my life’s trajectory. I’m
really not winning our game. Night after night I lose the first one, and then, predictably, the second. Rummikub. Ever heard of it?