The Maine Report--Summer 2011

Observations made on my vacation in August in Maine

Although I am a Maineiac at heart, I think I qualify as one of those “from away” people due to the fact that I have lived in Georgia for about 30 years. On my recent trip home I listened to some of the concerns you voiced about the state of affairs in my beloved State of Maine and some observations I made on my own.

The first concern I have for the area is doctors. You don’t have enough specialists in the area. Every time you need to see a specialist, such as an eye disease specialist like my nephew needed recently, you have to make the trek down to Portland.

You don’t have any foot doctors in the area either. I make an appeal here for any of you foot doctors out there who would like to set up a lucrative practice to go to Rockland immediately and hang out your shingle. Diabetic Seniors, did you know that Medicare will pay for a foot doctor to trim your nails periodically and check out your feet for you while they're at it?

I don’t know why specialists aren’t locating in the Rockland area. Maybe there needs to be a study done of some sort. Meanwhile, Maineiacs like me who might like to relocate to their home state in their retirement years may think twice after reading this.

Speaking of relocating, another problem you have is the roads. As I understand it the state is too poor in this economy to fix and/or repair the roads. Living in Georgia I’m used to seeing orange cones everywhere I go. They fix roads here that don’t even need fixing. You will find very few potholes. Of course, the weather has a lot to do with it.

I bumped along the road to Spruce Head and back in my brother’s truck all the while I was home. However, when my brother came to pick me up at the airport, we went home the Gardner way and down Rt. 17. Guess what? Rt. 17 is wonderful. Guess why? It’s the road all the local politicians take to go do business at the capitol up in Augusta. Hmmmm?

I observed a couple more “road” problems while I was home. The first is the famous “speed bump” on Main St. Whaaaat were you thinking, guys? What happens when the snow plow has to go through there? How long do you think it will last then? Couldn’t you find some other way to spend the Main Street Improvement money? How ‘bout planting some more trees or something?


I can just picture the cartoon Everett Blethen would have drawn for the Courier depicting a slow plow driver standing there by the bump and scratching his head. In Georgia, speed bumps are everywhere. I have to go over five or six just to get to my apartment here in this complex. If and when it ever snows, the roads don’t get plowed anyway because they only have one plow in the whole state. So speed bumps are pretty safe here.

The other road concern is the Wiscasset vehicle logjam that occurs every summer when tourists try to get through that town and over the bridge up Route 1. Evidently, a very expensive study to find a solution to the problem was a bust. No one knows the answer. I would venture to say that the only way to solve it would be to build a very expensive bridge/overpass such as the one down Portsmouth way or the bridge coming into Maine.

Damariscotta didn’t have that problem when that bypass was done because they don’t have to deal with any water navigations there. I note though, that the bypass there didn’t hurt business in downtown Damariscotta. It seems to be a thriving place these days.

The last comment I heard that concerns me is the fact that tourism is down yet again this year. This bad economy is hurting the Maine tourism trade very badly. People just don’t have the money for vacations when they have to worry about whether or not they are going to lose their homes because they can no longer pay their mortgages.

I would like to put a word in here to my fellow Maineiacs who actually live in the state. If you can afford the gas, take a ride on a back road you’ve never been on. Many surprises await you just around the corner.

A case in point is the little side trip my sister-in-law and I took when brother Ted was driving us home from the airport. He took a wrong turn and we ended up in a little park-like area by the Kennebec River. It was a beautiful spot for a picnic. Thanks, brother. Maybe I’ll get to explore that area more when I come home next time.

My final observation is the same one I make every year when I come home. Maine is still one of the most beautiful places on this earth; and I will continue to tell everyone who will listen that they won’t regret a visit up to see us.

Thanks for listening.

Here’s some fun facts about the Kennebec River you may not know.

Kennebec River

The Kennebec River just south of Bath.

Origin	Moosehead Lake
Mouth	Gulf of Maine, North Atlantic Ocean

Basin countries	United States
Length	170 miles (270 km)
Source elevation	1,024 feet (312 m)
Avg. discharge	9,111 cu ft/s (258.0 m3/s) at its entrance to Merrymeeting Bay
Basin area	5,869 sq mi (15,200 km2)

The course of the Kennebec River

A U.S. Coast Guard cutter breaks ice on the Kennebec River

 near Bath, Maine; March 2005

The Kennebec River is a 170-mile-long (270 km) river that is entirely within the U.S. state of Maine. It rises in Moosehead Lake in west-central Maine. The East and West Outlets join at Indian Pond and the river then flows southward. It is joined at The Forks by the Dead River, also called the West Branch then continues southward past the cities of Madison, Skowhegan, Waterville, and the state capitol Augusta. At Richmond it flows into Merrymeeting Bay, a 16-mile-long (26 km) freshwater tidal bay into which also flow the Androscoggin River and five smaller rivers. The Kennebec then runs past the shipbuilding center of Bath, thence to the Gulf of Maine in the Atlantic Ocean. Ocean tides affect the river height as far north as Augusta. Tributaries of the Kennebec River include the Carrabassett River, Sandy River, and Sebasticook River.

The name "Kennebec" comes from the Eastern Abenaki /kínipekʷ/, meaning "large body of still water, large bay".

In a Foggy Spruce Head Frame of Mind

Some reflections of my recent stay in Maine

As I sit here in Uncle Mac’s chair facing the picture window and bundled up against the morning chill, I recall memories of this place; of the family who once came here every summer; of the children who played among the rocks on the shore below me.

I am staying here by myself while I’m home this summer. I wake early with daily cramps in my legs and feet. I usually end up in this chair with the heating pad on my feet and legs and watch the day reveal itself to me.

Today there is fog. The fog is always “thicka” here in Spruce Head. Nevertheless, the scene before me is beautiful even in the fog. So why am I so sad today? Why do tears wash over my face as I behold God’s gift before my eyes?

So many memories. For the better part of 100 years the Herman Winchenbaugh family and his descendants have been coming here. He was my grandfather and he built himself a “cottage” empire here in Seal Cove in Spruce Head. At one time I believe he owned 6 cottages here.

My mother and her two sisters, Virginia and Eleanor, used to stay in the three shoreline cottages for periods of time in the summer when they weren’t being rented. There were times when all three were here at the same time.


My brothers carried water down from the main road. I tried to help but was probably more of a nuisance than anything. My cousin Betty, my sister Sally, and I used to run over these rocks and collect all manner of things to come and show to our parents…crabs, shells, sea glass, maybe even a lost lobster buoy.

As the years passed, my mother and father and Aunt Virginia and her husband, Constantine, or Uncle Mac as we called him, took possession of four of the cottages. They purchased them via inheritance when my grandfather died, plus giving the estate the rest of the purchase price. My Aunt Eleanor had passed away by then.

Each couple had a cottage on the shore and one further up in the woods. Ours were called Whispering Spruces and Carefree. I stayed in Carefree, up on the hill when I visited later on in my life.

Aunt Virginia and Uncle Mac had Itrenusus and Roselinda, which was up in the woods also.

Consequently, there were many visits from grandchildren and even great-grandchildren over the years. We had many a picnic of a Sunday here. Children’s laughter echoed as they too scampered over the rocks discovering amazing things.

The sisters wore down a path between the two cottages on the shore. The husbands built and maintained a garden together. The couples played cards at one cottage or the other in the summer evenings after viewing another beautiful sunset.

Now I sit here in the quiet as the tide ebbs. The further the tide recedes, the more the fog lifts. It may be a good day after all, I think.

I look to the left at the cottage my family sold several years ago. As the lights come on I can see a cottage that looks nothing like the one we owned. These are the second owners since we sold the place and they are nice people. They have completely redone the cottage so much that it doesn’t even look like the old one anymore. You could easily see this new "summer estate" featured in an interior design magazine it is so beautiful. They have also recently redone Carefree.

Something isn't right here. The only cottages the family has left are the two Aunt Virginia owns. Roselinda is completely inaccessible. The woods close in on it more and more every day. This cottage, Itrenusus, needs a lot of work. What will happen to this place? Will the Winchenbaugh line finally become part of its history and simply fade away?

My Sister and I seem to be the only two left who enjoy coming to stay here for awhile. Sally has brought her daughter, who also ran around these rocks, and her grandson, Nicholas, who is three, down here to stay for awhile for the last two years now. Will he be the last generation descended from Hermie to love this place?

I think and ponder about all of these things as I sit and rock in Uncle Mac’s chair. The islands across the way come further into my view as the tide ebbs more and the fog lifts more. The day has promise after all.

After I get my breakfast and leave the cottage for awhile to go visit with family and do “vacation” things, I hear something very familiar. It is the song of the Phoebe bird. It was one of my mother’s favorites and she always listened for the “first” Phoebe bird of the season when she came to stay here at Whispering Spruces. I like to think she’s trying to tell me something; that only good things await around the corner. After all, you can never tell what the future will bring, can you?

Thanks for listening.

Vacation Pictures

Here's some left-over vacation pictures I thought I'd share with you. My camera was acting up, so please forgive the quality on some of them.

My good friend, Sandra Sleeper Zimmerman and I at the parade

 showing respect for Rockland High School

in our orange and black attire.

Pictures from the South End

Here's some pictures I took at the non-Sandy Beach Blog Party.

Susan Ames Spiers

My new friend, Esther, who ate lunch with me.

South End Marina

Boats near the Boardwalk.

Beth Archer's new restaurant, "Archers"

 on the point in the South End next to Sandy Beach.

Spruce Head--Ebbing Tide

Sea Goddess Log 2011

I attended the Sea Goddess pageant this year and took a few pictures for you. I've also added some from the parade. The class of 1959 had a mini-reunion right in the front rows. It was a great evening and the girls were all beautiful with their handsome Navy and Coast Guard escorts.

Your new 2011 Sea Goddess, Kristen Margaret Sawyer in the parade.

These pictures were taken before the pageant began:

Classmates, Eleanor and Buzzy

Classmates from left to right: Violet Karl, Pat Pendleton, and Faye Molloy. 

Faye's husband, Tom, former mayor of Rockland, was a judge this year.

Some of the crowd in attendance.

Backstage and other Preparations

Side stage confab with 2010 Sea Goddess, Emily Benner

Coast Guard members prepare the flag for the Color Guard flag presentation.

Coast Guard officers prepare to go onstage. 

It was the 200th anniversary of the Coast Guard this year.

The princesses and their escorts line up to go onstage.

The woman in the flowered dress is Pamela Gay Donehower, 1961 Sea Goddess.

 She was a judge for this year's pageant.

King Neptune, getting ready for the night's doings.

The Pageant Begins

The Master of Ceremonies opens the show. I don't remember his name,

 but his hosting for the evening would make Dayson DeCourcey proud.

Master of Ceremonies chats with Emily Benner, 2010 Sea Goddess.

King Neptune chats with Emily.

Two of the princess are presented, they do their walk and wave routine.

Emily with King Neptune as he escorts her to her throne one last time.

Emily waves to the crowd one last time.

Miss Congeniality, Brittany Anne Young, is given her sash.

Crown Princess for 2011, Morgan Adrienne York

 gets her crown and sash.

The 2011 Sea Goddess, Kristen Margaret Sawyer, is crowned.

Parade Picture

Brittany rides in the parade.

I hope you all got to enjoy some of the pageant this year, as well as the parade.

Thanks for Coming, Shearer

In Loving Memory 

A. Shearer Simonton

7/24/1940- 8/5/2011

Yesterday, when I opened my copy of The Herald Gazette, I was saddened to learn of the death of a former 1959 classmate at RHS, Shearer Hooper Simonton. She died on Friday, August 5, during Lobster Festival activities, while I was home this summer, but I was not aware of it.

Friday used to be the traditional day for the Sea Goddess Pageant and Coronation. Shearer was a princess in the 1958 pageant and was in fact a finalist. At the time that Shearer participated in the pageant I believe they named first, second, and third runner-ups. I don’t know which one Shearer was.

I played basketball with Shearer in high school. At six feet, she was the tallest player on our team, and that meant, of course, that she became our center. At that time girls only played half-court, with the later introduction of a roving guard, who covered both ends of the floor.

I was a roving guard, which meant I did the most running of anyone on the team. I therefore had the chance to be on the same end of the floor as Shearer when she stood under the basket. There was no three-second rule then, therefore, a player could stand under the basket all she wanted.

We took full advantage of Shearer’s height, which was tall in those days. She would just stand under the basket and wait for one of us to throw the basketball to her. She would then hold it over her head until someone on the opposing team fouled her trying to get to the ball. I don’t ever remember her dribbling the ball. We could only dribble three times in a row, so there was a lot of passing being done.

Shearer was a very feminine girl in spite of her aggressiveness on the basketball floor. She held great pride in her fingernails. Lord help you if you were the cause of her breaking a fingernail while playing the game. The air would be blue around her in such a case.

I also remember the many basketball trips on the bus and us all begging Shearer and her best friend, Barbara Staples, to sing “Blue Moon.” They always sang that song in perfect harmony. Each Kippy Karnival they would sing it for the annual show. When I think of those two classmates, I always think of that song, and vice versa.

As I understand it, Shearer, even though she was very ill, was adamant about attending her 50^th class reunion. With a lot of help, she was able to meet that goal. It was probably the last time many of us were to see her. We all took the time to go up to her and say a few words. I squeezed her hand and told her how happy I was to see her there. She was unable to squeeze my hand back and I don’t know as she even recognized me, but that doesn’t matter. I’m glad I was able to see her one last time.

Thanks for coming, Shearer. We will all meet again someday and have an eternal class reunion. We will miss you.

(If you would like to give your condolences to the family, go to

 www.directcremationofmaine.com.)


This picture was contributed by Jean Rowling Monroe. Thanks, Jean

Seated, left to right: Deanna Allard, Hortense Micue, Judy Davis, Barbara Staples. Standing, left to right: Nancy O'Brien, Shearer, Joan Knowlton, Pat Graves, Priscilla (Andy) Smith,Lorraine Beal.

Drum Corp Pictures from Don Pomroy

One of my South End pals in the old neighborhood, Don Pomroy, recently sent me these photos of old uniforms from the Port 'o Rockland Junior Drum and Bugle Corps, otherwise known as the "Coastmen."

Don became a member of the Corps a lot later than I did. This was the second uniform I remember wearing around about 1957. As I reported in my drum corps story, we oirginally wore black pants, I think gold shirts, black military helmets, and I think spats. I do not have any pictures of myself in either uniform, so I'm guessing. If you were a member of the corps and remember better than I do, please tell me.

In any event here are the pictures Don shared:

Thanks for sharing, Don. Could you still fit into your old uniform? I know I couldn't.