Remember Garrison Keillor? Remember Prairie Home Companion? It was our Saturday night for many years. Wally would settle into a bath upstairs with a cold Narragansett and the radio tuned to his favorite show. Mine too – I loved the soothing voice, predictable “commercials”, and best of all, the weekly doings in Keillor’s fictional hometown, Lake Wobegone. Everybody knew everyone else, knew who the kooks were, knew the church ladies, the Norwegian bachelor farmers. Maybe we enjoyed it so much because we had church ladies of our own, bachelor farmers, and for sure, kooks.

Some would say we were the kooks, moving into town from away, buying a rambling farmhouse that had been on the market for years, raising a family on an elementary teacher’s salary (“surely you’ll move up to a superintendency” one school committee member told my husband).

Small-town life is many-layered. Think how social gatherings used to bring us together – Grange, Lodge, Eastern Star, church. There were public suppers, Hunters’ Breakfasts, bake sales, yard sales, the post office, Town Meeting, Election Day, the Memorial Day parade. There were family reunions and celebrations; the annual Young clan Thanksgiving meal at the Grange comes to mind. Folks gathered on hot summer days at Ducktrap or Nortons, at ice shacks on the frozen ponds in the winter. We sang Christmas carols together around a bonfire.

Children played outside, roamed the Center, made mischief, went sledding, skating, fishing, rode bikes. They joined blueberry crews, raking rocky hillsides under a blazing sun. They found jobs mowing lawns, stacking wood, shoveling snow for their neighbors.

Children used to ride the school bus.

Covid has put a stop to all of it. But in truth, most of it was already gone. Blame television for keeping us entertained on evenings when we would have ventured out to a club meeting or program. Blame the fear culture that keeps kids on a tight, parental leash. Blame the Internet for changing how we work and play. Blame Amazon for all the empty storefronts on Camden’s Main Street.

Progress has, once again, thrown a monkey wrench into the structure of our society. There seems little doubt that we’re in the middle of a seismic shift in the way we relate to one another. Think of the ways we humans have had to adapt: out of the trees and onto the savannah; from nomad to farmer; farm to factory; engaged community member to solitary, on-line social life.

But I don’t want to be accused of geezer-hood. There’s plenty of good to be found, and I like to think Covid is the catalyst.

Once again the LBB, our online Lincolnville Bulletin Board, has shown us our best selves. Jane posted this one day last week:

“I've seen the magic that happens on this bulletin board time after time and now it's my turn to test it out. In a pretty big nutshell, here's my situation; I've been without water since last Friday. I hoped the rain we got last weekend would have solved the problem but it didn't. I get my water from a gravity fed spring behind my house. I share the spring with the house next door. They have water, I don't. I spoke with an old timer across the street yesterday and he told me that the man in the other house would periodically go up to our shared spring and clean out leaves or debris and basically keep the pipes clear. This guy is disabled and hasn't been up to the spring in many years. He did give me some pointers though. He said it's 3 or 4 feet deep, the pipe that goes to his house is above the one that comes to mine (probably why he's got water and I don't). 

“ It looks as if the silt on the bottom may be covering my pipe. I need someone with a pair of waders and a skimmer net or shovel and bucket to remove the silt away from that pipe and hopefully that will clear the way for the water to make it down to my house again.  
I understand you all aren't going to be jumping on the reply button like you would on Family Feud or anything but boy, I sure do hope there's a good kind soul out there that would be willing to give it a try. I'll pay you, I'll bake you cookies, I'll send you home with homemade jelly, I will be eternally grateful. I'm about 20 years too old for the job. We're in a pandemic, I'm by myself, we're going into winter and I really am sick of hauling water. I’m hoping a quick phone call for directions and 15 or 20 minutes clearing out the spring will be all I need to get the water flowing again. Any takers?

Now think about the weather forecast for this past week-end. Cold, windy, rainy. Here are some of the replies Jane got: 

“I don’t even know you...but I've been through tough times enough times, and if I can lug water for you and help clear the spring I'd be happy to. I work till 4:30 tomorrow, but if there is still a need, I'm happy to pitch in. I'm guessing it may need shovel, grading rake, post-digging pole even, to help clear packed-in heavy stuff. Maura”

“I’ll help! Can someone go with me? Is there any net or stuff your neighbor has used that we could borrow? Sarah”

“I’ll go with you Sarah and I have some waders!  Where do you live Jane? Betsy”

“I don’t have waders but I’m willing to help.  I’m free anytime after 10:30 tomorrow morning. Heather” 

Wow. Jane wrote a day later:

“What a difference a day makes. When I wrote that post yesterday I have to tell you that I was pretty discouraged and pretty desperate for some help. It's not often that I ask for it but I knew this time I had to and once again, you guys came through in a very big way. I can't tell you what your kindness and generosity means to me. 

“It was only minutes from the time I posted until I got my first (and what I thought may be my only) response. Thank you Lucy.  I called the person she'd suggested, Wyatt, and he came right up and mucked around at the spring for a while before letting me know that he wasn't able to locate my buried pipe through all the stirred up silt and deep cold water. He bailed out what he could and shoveled around but he had to get back home to study for an exam. He was such a positive, upbeat guy and so very willing to do anything he could. I still had no water but my faith was restored.

“… I was trying to respond to everyone else that was sending me good wishes and offering help. I made a few phone calls, spoke with some incredibly helpful, kind folks and had my faith restored even further. I still had no water but hey, things were looking up. Throughout the afternoon there was a bucket loading, wader wearing, shovel scooping posse of women forming. These gals were ready to jump right in that cold spring and get it done! For awhile I tried to keep everyone in the loop but the posse grew and Sarah became my contact. 

Apparently Wyatt had stirred something up, for that evening the water started flowing again.

“The water had been running long enough to get hot, . . . my first reaction was to turn the faucet right off so as not to waste it. My second reaction was to high tail it into the shower and even if I used every stinking drop of hot water I had coming to me, I'd get my first shower in 11 days. I left a trail of clothes from the kitchen sink to the bathroom and indeed I did use every last drop. . .

“The posse is at the ready, just waiting for the call for extra hands. I called Wyatt back this morning to tell him the good news and to let him know that his good deed would definitely guarantee that he'd ace today's exam. Tomorrow we will hopefully remove more silt and clear it out some more but tonight I will just stay snug and be grateful as I listen to the wind howling outside and the rain coming down.” 

In other town news that traveled via the LBB, a fire was spotted on Town House Road, near Dead Man’s Curve, the other evening. It could be seen from Youngtown Road, clear on the other side of town. Turns out, it was a burn pile on the verge of going rogue, flames and embers shooting up and stuff apparently exploding, enough to bring all the neighbors out to anxiously guard their homes from the falling stuff. The fire department reported on Facebook:

“12/04/20 @ 4:34 PM - Report of explosion/fire on Townhouse Rd. There were several reports as this particular spot is visible from a lot of places. It was a fairly large brush pile. This was a permitted burn that may have exceeded the permit. The Chief and permittee were having discussions. We lowly firemen have no other knowledge. We do what the Chief tells us, most of the time. After a few minutes he told us to go home. We went home.

Be careful, be safe and when in doubt call us out.”

It’s been a stormy week with high winds, lots of rain, and now a light covering of snow. The first storm knocked power out to most of us in town; according to the CMP website there were 797 outages on Islesboro which has 797 households. Have you figured out which line you’re on? There’s the one that goes from the substation on Searsmont Road down through the Center, Beach Road to Ducktrap Road and at some point over to Islesboro. Our house at Sleepy Hollow is on a one-house spur from that line which doesn’t continue through the Hollow. A line from Camden serves Atlantic Highway south of the Beach and up Beach Road to the Hollow where my next door neighbor lives.

Town House Road is a continuation of Slab City, but I don’t know where it goes from there – up Belfast Road? Does anyone know of a map of Lincolnville’s power lines? It would be interesting to see. When your power is out for hours and days there’s little to do but figure out when your turn will finally come, why your neighbor has power and you don’t and if they’ll ever get to you.

Last week’s storm was just a memory when this Saturday night we were hit with more high winds and rain. They even name these storms; this one was Eartha. Coming up through the Hollow Saturday late afternoon (pitch black in other words) there was a tree down, right across the road. I turned around (gingerly in the rain and dark) and came home via Ducktrap Road. Barely an hour later, after firemen had cut up and cleared away the tree, another one came down, just a few feet beyond the first one. Again, the firemen were out with chainsaws, clearing it away.

Another Covid effect is the speedy installation of broadband all over town to meet the needs of Zooming students. If you’ve got a child doing remote learning in your household you get free installation of broadband no matter where you live. Having the three upstairs kids move in with their parents a few years ago was a good decision! Because of that “spur” electrical line we’ve been a pariah to the phone company. They quoted us $1500 to bring the cable line to us, the only household between here and Slab City; we refused long ago. But now, because of our students’ needs, we’ll have broadband installed for free!

I’m not sure when it will arrive, but the Tidewater rep who came by on Saturday determined where the connection will be and said they’re hurrying to get it done.

That willingness to help seems to be bubbling up all over. And I do blame Covid. There’s a real need to reach out to one another, even if only virtually. From donating generously to local causes to mucking around in a muddy, icy cold spring and offering to join a posse of “bucket loading, wader wearing, shovel scooping” women people want to help.

Perhaps part of it is the realization that not everyone is experiencing the same pandemic. And perhaps we’re finally up against the biggest challenge we humans have to face: bringing everyone into the 21st century with comfortable (not just “liveable”) salaries. And maybe, just maybe, caring for others in the way that we care for ourselves.  

‘Maine at 200—A Visual History’

The Lincolnville Community Library will host Libby Bischof for a virtual talk, “Maine at 200—A Visual History,” on Wednesday, December 9 at 7 p.m. 

In this richly illustrated presentation, Bischof will use objects, drawings, maps, photographs, and postcards to highlight significant events in Maine’s history, which stretches back more than 12,000 years. Bischof says this year of Maine’s bicentennial provides an opportunity to reflect on the state’s well-known history as well as aspects of the past that have been glossed over or ignored.    

Bischof is the executive director of the Osher Map Library and Smith Center for Cartographic Education and a professor of history at the University of Southern Maine. She is the author of Maine Photography: A History, 1840-2015.  

This program is made possible in part by the Maine Humanities Council. To register and receive the Zoom link, please send email with your name  or call 706-3896. And in case you don't receive the link soon, please check your spam folder. 

This is another reminder of what this Covid pandemic has caused: nearly a whole year without gathering in the Library in the evening for an interesting talk or musical program. Especially missing this year will be Rosey’s annual Christmas program.

But the next best thing will be tuning in for the above history program.

Private Schoolhouse Museum Tours

We’ll be giving private tours of the Schoolhouse Museum this winter. Masked and distanced, a few people at a time, two or three including the guide, can poke around the Beach Schoolhouse’s second floor where the town’s history is displayed. Contact Jane Hardy, 763-3720 or me(Diane), 789-5987 to arrange a time.