On March 10, 1927, according to Staying Put In Lincolnville Maine, by Diane O’Brien, “the citizens of Lincolnville Center and the community met at Mr. and Mrs. Russell Heal’s, 199 Main Street, for the purpose of organizing a Fire Company.” 

Virgil Hall was elected president, and the men and women of the town set to making this happen with women raising the money, while the men cobbled together the equipment needed. Allegedly, one of the first Lincolnville fire trucks is, as of writing this, supporting a late Christmas tree across from the Lincolnville General Store.

“When in doubt, call us out” is the catchphrase for the Lincolnville Volunteer Fire Department on social media.

A small town tradition, the volunteer fire department is made up of townspeople, identified in my youth as the guys with the big radios in their back pocket, ready to respond to any emergency in town, 24/7.

Searching for ice-fishing gear at Northport’s Maine Outdoor Sportsman the other day, I heard the familiar tone, and a radio from the hip of the guy in the aisle next to me blared out the call of a person in distress on Atlantic Highway. By the time I left the store, an ambulance was already racing up Route 1.

The LVFD will be there when your chimney catches fire, a common occurrence back in the day at Sleepy Hollow. There was a time when the fire guys were quite familiar with this old house. They respond to accidents, to brush fires, to trees knocked down across the road. And they are all volunteers. If your mechanic or clerk seems a bit sleepy some morning, there is a good chance they were up all night responding to a 2 a.m. fire call.

I had the opportunity to spend Saturday afternoon with the recently retired fire guy Michael Eugley. He is a former chief of the LVFD, and the son of Chief Millard Eugley, and grandson of Chief Bertrand Eugley, who was there with Virgil Hall in the beginning. The Eugleys have been keeping us safe for awhile.

Now Mike, also known as Mikey, is not one for publicity, unless you happen to be friends with him on Facebook. But I informed him, with the support of some of his buddies, that his service to this town needs to be recognized. Forty years of service to this town,  40 years of never being sure if that 2 a.m. call is a tripped alarm or a horrific car wreck. Forty years of being present for his customers irregardless of what happened at 2 a.m.

So I wish Mikey luck in retirement. He has built a lovely new garage equipped with a fridge and a gas range for cooking cheese-based snacks to entertain those lucky enough to know him. Thank you, sir, for your years of service.

Interestingly, the Lincolnville Volunteer Fire Department has its own nonprofit foundation, which covers a large portion of its costs to the town.

On top of all the other things they provide us, the even offer scholarships to local graduates. A perfect example of community helping community.

And should you be interested in helping your fellow townspeople at 2 a.m., the LVFD meets on the second Thursday of the month at the station in the Center. Or just reach out to current Chief Don Fullington through the town website.

Being There for Each Other

I knew when I took over this column that I would have to write about my middle boy. February 15 is International Childhood Cancer Day. It is also 10 years from the day that an alert doctor at the Waldo County General Hospital’s Emergency Department detected a large tumor in the back of my 3 year old’s head.

As my family went into crisis mode, this town had our backs. So much support, financially and emotionally, as my boy faced that dragon, cancer. But he didn’t fight it alone. 

This is what we do in a community. When someone is suffering, we rally. Chicken dinners at the LVFD, a collection tin at Drakes, a meal train on the Lincolnville Bulletin Board.

My middle boy is an obnoxious and healthy 13 year old today. And I now have the platform to say, Thanks Lincolnville!

Ma’s Town News

This Week In Lincolnville writer emeritus, Diane O’Brien, cannot remain silent, and jumped at the opportunity to offer her musings when I asked. She writes:

Navigating on Ice

Ice underfoot is serious stuff, especially to those of us with clunky joints, fragile bones, and unpredictable balance. That would be the elderly. That would be me.

Amazing to remember being limber, strong and confident. Confident of my ability to stay upright. Today the slightest encounter with the tiny lip of a floorboard or unexpected stone in the path is enough to put me off balance. Turn suddenly and I’m staggering to stay upright. Amazing to remember striding past old people carefully picking their way along the sidewalk. Some part of me knew that would never be me.

Until it is. So here we are, me and my compatriots, facing another winter of ice. Those comforting, deep snowfalls of past years that blanketed us for months seem to be a thing of the past. Vicious, lumpy and often hidden ice waits everywhere I need to go.

 Even out to the end of my driveway to pick up my morning paper, the BDN tossed there in the middle of night by the delivery guys, is a problem. Generally, now I do all my outdoor errands – feeding the hens, dumping cat litter, and getting the paper – at once, after I struggle to get the ice grippers on.

Hate the grippers. Everyone does, but then I remember the broken wrists, broken ankles and, god forbid, the cracked heads of those who ventured out without ‘em.  And promise myself it’s not worth the risk.

 But, determined not to stay housebound all winter (and besides, my NP at Lincolnville Health impressed on me the need for exercise!) I’ve begun going downstreet (quaint old phrase) to Camden or Belfast to walk. The sidewalks are clear, and the scenery is varied. I park by Helen’s Heavenly Yarns in Belfast and walk to Walgreen’s, or park at the Library and walk to Rankin’s, getting an errand done and a mile or so of walking. Real strides, only occasionally looking down at my feet to access the state of the sidewalk. It feels almost normal.”

And the next generation chimes in

Reading my mom’s words forces me to think of my own aging. Between work, and kids, and just trying to get by, it is easy to forget that you exist. It is easy to forget to take care of yourself.

I think of my friends, in Lincolnville and beyond, struggling with kids, with careers. Social Media connects us.

My buddy, who has been a stay-at-home dad for many years, just published his first novel.

Another old friend just listed her childhood home for sale; her mother is facing dementia. She writes, “I love who she is now, and miss my mommy terribly.” Yet another friend tells me about his quest to learn the details of his parentage.

Technology allows us to remain in contact across the miles, and can be a force for good or ill, but we cannot forget those who are right here.

We live in a wonderful place, surrounded by wonderful people, in a wonderful environment. Get out there- explore the trails of Camden Hills, Fernald’s Neck, or the Coastal Mountain Land Trust. Chat with your neighbors at the Beach Store, Drake’s, The Lincolnville General, Dot’s, or Green Tree Coffee. Bake someone a casserole. If you are so inclined, worship at the Lincolnville United Church of Christ or the Beach Baptist Church on a Sunday morning.

Reach out to an old friend, make a new one. Help an old lady over the ice.

As always, be well Lincolnville. If you have news, I can be reached at ceobrien246@gmail.com