November 11, 1938

To my father Norris and his brother Tom and sister Judy.

To my cousins Kenny, Andy, Alicia and Eric.

To my sisters Julie, Tammy, Debbie.

To the next generation, Jacob, Justin, Cooper, Login, Taylor, Grace, Olivia, Kelsey, Dani, Jami, Shayla, Jessie, Owen, Adam, and Ian

To the most recent generation,  Lilah May, Katherine Alice, Connor, Ethan, Ariella, Addalyn, Kira, and Alayna.  Unfortunately you missed out on the treasure the rest of us had the privilege of enjoying. Ask your parents and grandparent about it and they will have many stories to tell.

To all of us listed above our Journey has been wide and varied. We span from California to Texas, from Alabama to Maine.

Our combined journey began 82 years ago on this day November 11, 1938.

On that day, Alice Elizabeth Stevens said “I do” to Arnold G Smith in Canton Maine.

Their love was an example for us all as it never waned or showed any sign of weakness for 65 years. 

For 65 years they were united and watched in joy as their family grew.

Gramp left us on July 8, 2003,  leaving Grams side for the last time.

Gram lasted only 4 more years before she joined Gramp and again they were together.

I know he is eating apples and cheese and she is knitting a pair of liners to go inside leather mittens.

They are sitting side by side rocking yet saying very little, simply enjoying the fruits of their love and all that it has become.  We miss you both!

 Katherine Alice Smith

She stumbles around the house at a pace and with a stagger that would seem destined for disaster. 

She darts from place to place, object to object in what appears to be a random display of hap hazard choices and yet each direction, each mission has a purpose and a goal.

She may pause only a moment to look at something or to touch something and then be on her way, but each tangent has a purpose, each direction has a goal. Once that goal is achieved it’s on to the next.

She has a sense of exploration that drives her every step, what is that? What does that feel like? Can I eat that? Does it move when I try to push it? Does it make noise?

She scurries around at a pace that would tire an Olympic marathon runner and yet she seemingly never slows.

At 16 months old she knows every inch of her home, at least the part she is allowed to explore. And yet every day begins a new mission to find something new or find the changes.

Move a chair and she will notice, take a box away and she looks around trying to see where it went. She is keenly aware of her surroundings.

She loves books and has many.  What was once a patient journey  through each book as someone turned the pages and read to her,  has now become a self-guided tour that quickly scans through each page with little hesitation as though simply checking to make sure no pages are missing.

The pets all know her antics and some give space to her as she meanders about, while others lay waiting for the eventual collision as though wanting and looking forward to the interaction.

Her world is hers to orchestrate and she does!

Our role is to support and help her when needed. Any failure in that support will be addressed immediately and adherence to the plan is expected!

She is also very helpful around the house! She loves to help with dishes, throwing her dirty diapers in the trash and finding ANYTHING you may have dropped on the floor by accident. 

 And cheese. The girl loves cheese!

Eating is a pleasure to be enjoyed to the fullest! All forms of vegetables, meats, grains, and muffins are greeted with enthusiasm and anticipation.

Messes while eating are never frowned upon and always encouraged! Cleanup is just a bath away.

Feel the texture of that squash between your fingers. Smoooooth!  How does it look on my face?? 

Squish the muffin to find out what those little bits inside are, not sure but they sure taste good!

She is being raised in a home that values exploration and discovery. 

A home that is not afraid of getting a little messy for the sake of a good meal or a good adventure!

A home that requires kindness, manners, and compassion for other as a nonnegotiable expectation.

And most importantly a home filled with love and acceptance.

What more could a grandpa wish for!

Fall ? or Fall !!

 Many of us dread the thought of its arrival!   

The mere thought of it can send some people into a panic! 

Not for what it brings but for what comes after its short visit.

 Although many of us dread the coming of fall.

It’s not fall’s fault at all, no we always celebrate and embrace fall in all of its glory once it gets here ! 

No we dread fall because it is with us such a short time. 

Although a very enjoyable time, it soon gives way to the inevitable cold weather that is never far behind! 

Leaves are only pretty for a week or so , cool air can turn to frost and snow at any time .  That is the reality we dread not fall itself .  

We all love fall! 

Yes, fall is here in Maine! 

Lisa and I are celebrating every minute we can because we know within a blink of an eye  it will be gone . The world will be brown and cold and then eventually all will be white. 

Spring will be a long way away !

Today we drove around to see the wonder that is fall in Maine . It’s not peak color yet but is pretty non the less. 

It was also cloudy all day so the colors are somewhat muted but we had a great time!  I am sure we will post more when we get a chance to enjoy them in the sunshine ! 

We all enjoy the bright colors that fall brings but today I took pictures of the other signs of fall as well.

Flowers that have given way to seed pods ensuring we have more beauty next year. 

Grass that has all gone dry, yet stands tall waiting for snow to lay it down for a winters rest. 

Although short , fall really is a beautiful time of year!

 Prove that you can’t! 

As we step away from the Jeep, we are at the trailhead of Big Spencer Mountain. 

It’s a two-mile hike to the top of the Mountain.  The reports are that the 360-degree view is well worth the climb. We shall see.

Our walk takes us along an old Jeep trail. The trail aided the fire tower attendants, who for years sat at the top of the mountain with binoculars looking for smoke. 

From 1905 until 1991, the Maine Forest Service used manned mountaintop towers for fire detection.  

Many of the mountain trails we hike today had their origins as access to fire towers.

As we started our hike the trail rose slightly with a moderate incline. It was not hard walking as it was a washed-out jeep trail that was almost 6 feet wide.  

A great way to start our journey.

About a quarter of the way in the Jeep trail ended, at that point it became a more typical walking trail.  A narrow foot path with vegetation and rocks on the outer edges. Although there were some steep areas, for the most part it was an easy climb.

We knew by the elevation we had to cover (1900 feet) that eventually this ease of travel would end.  About halfway up we broke open onto a small grassy plateau, the plateau had a picnic table, fire ring and an outhouse. It was a great spot to take a break. 

The views were beautiful!

The day was crystal clear with almost no clouds or haze and temperatures in the mid 60’s. It was perfect for hiking.

After we had admired the view, a view that went on for as far as you could see, we got back to business. 

Behind us jutting high into the sky was the rest of the mountain. We had barely made it halfway! We could tell by the near vertical slope before us that our challenge had just begun!

Within five-minute travel from our grassy plateau the trail took a pitch upward that would not ease for at least another mile.

Our path went from a gravel walking trail to something that more resembled a rock-climbing adventure in Yellowstone!

A trail so steep at times you could reach straight out towards the mountain and touch the rocks. There had been 4 ladders and 2 ropes installed because the terrain was just too steep to climb in places. 

We were clearly facing a climb more difficult than either of us had ever attempted.

After a short way, we stopped to talk about our plan. Both of us were feeling the effects of too many ice creams and too much time on the couch and not enough exercise.  

 Through our huffing and puffing, the sweating and heart racing I asked the question.  Should we turn back?

Now Lisa was clearly exhausted,(so was I)  and we were only a little over halfway. THE EASY HALF!

Nope! She said quickly, Let’s just slow down, take our time, and get to the top! 

We had driven 3 hours to get there and she was determined to make it to the top.

So, on we pushed. Slowly, methodically we continued to climb the side of Big Spencer Mountain.  

Each step was planned and executed with caution. One wrong step and well…. You know.

We found ourselves only going about 75 to 100 feet at a time and then needing to stop and rest. Hearts racing and lungs straining to catch up.

The more we went up the prouder I was of Lisa. She was clearly more tired than she had been in a long time. 

Some stops saw shaky knees and trembling hands, yet any talk of retreat was quickly met with defiance. 

I didn’t come this far to quit now; I am going to see the top! She said 

And see the top we did. After about 2.5 hours we finally broke through the tree line onto the crown of the mountain. 

It was spectacular! 

Clearly the hardest trip we have ever taken!

 Our effort was rewarded with some of the most beautiful views we have ever seen!   Well worth the effort for sure!

I labeled this story “prove that you can’t” for a reason.  Some would challenge that it should be “prove that you can” but that was not how I was rationalizing it as we pushed upward.

The idea came to me as we ascended the steepest parts of the mountain. Had I known how hard it was going to be we would have  never made the attempt.

 We would have missed the outstanding views. We would have also missed the satisfaction of finishing the trek and attaining our goal!

I had major knee reconstruction in 2006. Ever since that time I have refrained from many of the things I love to do based on my belief that “I can’t do that”   “It will be too much for my knee”.

We all do that. We all make excuses why we can’t do something for fear of failing at our attempt.

 The fear of looking bad or having to say we didn’t make it!  We failed! Something no one likes to say.

I can’t do that, I am too out of shape.

I can’t climb Katahdin I am too old, and my knee couldn’t take it.

I can’t ski anymore , I am too old and my knee!

I can’t hike the Appalachian trail that’s for young people!

I can’t 

I can’t

I can’t

We all have our list of the things we label “I can’t”.

I decided when I got to the top of Big Spencer mountain, an accomplishment I was sure (before today)  I would not have been able to do,  that from now on, I am going to “prove” that I can’t do something . 

 Instead of sitting on the sidelines assuming I can’t do it. I am going to prove I can’t. 

My new assumption is I can do ANYTHING until I prove I can’t!

My guess is there will be many things I will be able to do that I never thought I could. Getting to the top of Big Spencer was one of them…… DONE!!!

Sure, there will be things I won’t be able to finish, trails I will turn back on. Adventures that prove to be too much. I know that.

 But instead of sitting on the sidelines and assuming I can’t do it and missing the adventure completely. I am going to PROVE that I can’t.

 That way at least I will know for sure what my limitations are. 

For my efforts I will have the memories of the attempted adventures, not as failures, but as journeys that in and of themselves, will be memories well made.

The only truly failed adventure is the one you consider doing, the one you wish you could do, but the one you never take that first step on! 

That is the only truly failed adventure. 

Everything else is memories made, no matter the outcome!

I challenge everyone who got this far in my ramblings to 

“Prove what you can’t do” and cherish the results! 

I know I will!

Greatest Show on Earth !

 Did you lock the truck?

Yes, I said as we begin our walk.  

We parked by the gate. A gate that was not there ten years ago when we last ventured into Grand Falls. Ten years ago, you could drive all the way into the waterfall, BUT due to people abusing the land and tearing up the road they put a gate up, so we must walk the last mile. I don’t mind if it helps maintain the beauty of this spectacular place.

To get to Grand falls you must head to Eustis Maine, turn right onto Big Eddy road.  From that turn its 19 miles of dusty dirt road and several turns before you hit the gate.

“ok good, I’m leaving my purse under the seat”

It’s an easy walk in since we are following an old dirt road. It was a bright sunny 70-degree day when we left the jeep.  A perfect day for a hike. 

As we walk along all we can hear is the sounds of nature, birds and squirrels skittering on the forest floor.  A crow announcing our arrival and sending a warning to all the other creatures in the area that humans have arrived. 

As we get halfway in, we begin to hear the dull roar of our destination drawing us in as we move along the road. “ Sounds like a good flow”  Lisa comments,  we quicken our pace in anticipation.

Soon all you can hear is the water rushing over the falls. All other noises have faded away.

As we arrive at the river’s edge, we realize we are above the falls. We can see the river disappearing over the cliff and a cloud of mist floating into the air from below, but we cannot see the falls.

How do we get to the down stream side? I asked.

Lisa quickly responded “I think this trail will take us there. She was right. Within a minute we step around the corner of the thick brush that lines the rivers edge and Grand falls and all its glory is right in front of us. 

To me this is one of the most spectacular waterfalls in Maine. It’s not the largest or the tallest. But to me it is one of the best we have to offer. The drop is over 40 feet and its over 100 feet across. It is truly a wonder to see and hear!

Ringling Brothers made the claim that their shows were the “Greatest Show on Earth”. I have been to several in my distant past. I must admit it was a great show, but I have to ask you. Would they put on a show if no one came to see the performance? Would the shows on the  Las Vegas strip preform every night to empty seats? How about the fourth of July fireworks? A splendid display enjoyed by everyone young and old, but would they set them off if no one came to watch? 

If there were no cheering crowds, no awe-struck fans, no standing ovations would any of those things we enjoy take place?  I think not.

Yet day in and day out.  24 hours a day, 365 days a year, without fail, with no intermission, no curtain calls, no grand finally, nature provides what truly is the “Greatest Show on Earth”!

 Although worthy of constant admiration and awe, it seldom gets the appreciation it deserves.  

The spectacular show that nature performs for us every day, without fail, simply awaits our arrival and our appreciation. We just need to show up and enjoy the show !

What shows have you seen lately? Make sure the next one has everything to do with nature! 

I promise you will not be sorry that you made the effort! 

It “IS” the greatest show on earth!

 Tracks?

Music has always been a very important part of my life. As an awkward teen who was not good at sports or high on the social ladder, music was something I could immerse myself in and feel good about.  I would sit in the basement of my childhood home with a set of old clunky headphones on while spinning vinyl after vinyl as time slowly slipped by. I knew every song and every lyric! My vinyl collection was impressive for sure! 

Music was almost a companion at times, something that was always there and could always be counted on no matter what was going on outside of the lyrics.

I never lost that love of music although it has changed over time.  I now listen to all kinds of music and enjoy it all. 

Although I like all music there are some musicians I do not care for.  One of those artists is Bruce Springsteen. The Boss!   I am not sure why, but I just never cared for his music and for the most part do not listen to him still today. I will even change the channel when he is on instead of listening, it’s that bad. 

This morning while heading to work, his song “one step up” came on.   That song is one of the few songs he sings that I enjoy so I left it on the station and drove on.

I have heard this song hundreds of times over the decades since it was written.  It’s a song about the struggles of being in love and maintaining a healthy relationship. In the song, clearly things are not going well. 

It is well written, and I love the way the lyrics and the melody work together. It is a good song for sure!

This morning something was different.  As I listened and sang along with the lyrics “When I look at myself, I don't see the man I wanted to be, somewhere along the line I slipped off track.” A line I have heard and sung many times. Yet this morning it stuck. Why?

 Music often does that to me. Nothing elicits more emotions in me than music.  Good, bad or somewhere in between.  Music can trigger emotional responses that clearly, I do not understand, nor can I explain. It can make me feel happy, it can make me feel young again and it can even bring a tear to the corner of my eye at times.

So, I started thinking about that line as I drove through the foggy morning and why it hit me today?.  Did I have a track?  Did I slip off?   What was my track and how do I know if I have been a success or a failure?  How far did I slip, and did I ever get back on track if I did slip?

So, as I drove on, I started looking back in the rear-view mirror of my life.

I never went to college. Yes, I attended trade school (one year of a two-year course) and learned to become a carpenter but I have no degree.  When I look at the focus or (track) I had as a young man, clearly my goal was to become “someone”!  To make a name for myself! To prove I could be successful without the education everyone around me had or was getting. It became an obsession that I did not realize at the time nor did I plan.

How did I do with this life track? Well, actually pretty good. 

 While at BIW I became a full time 110-ton double block bridge Crane operator and rigger while having no formal heavy equipment training or experience. Not an easy task.

What about my time at Mead Paper Company? Another great success. With no collage education I managed to secure a role within the safety field leading the implementation of a groundbreaking behavioral based safety process. After spending a couple years doing that, I was offered a Job within the Human Resource department as an Organizational Development Facilitator. 

Really? Again, no education no training.  My success there lead to an appointment on a corporate reengineering project which found me flying around the country each week. Spending days/weeks away from my family. 

I had assignments in Escanaba Michigan, Chillicothe Ohio, Dayton Ohio, Phoenix City Alabama, and Rumford Maine. I ended up having a condo in Phenix city for 18 months where I would fly down on Mondays and TRY to get home for the weekend.  I guess I was clearly on track with my goal to be “Somebody”. I was working within a corporate level project for MEAD Paper Company! I was “someone”!

As I sat at home one rare morning drinking coffee, I got a phone call. Bass Angler Sportsman’s Society in Montgomery Alabama was calling.  The worldwide leader of bass fishing tournaments and all things bass fishing.  They had an interest in me leading their worldwide membership organization.  2400 organizations within the United states and 6 foreign countries. Wow! Now that is SOMEBODY!!  A one of kind role with a worldwide presence.  I will take it!

This “track” to become “someone” took from 1986 to 2000 when the offer came in and the family’s bags were packed for Montgomery Alabama.

 If you look at it through the lens of becoming “someone” I had been a smashing success! 

With no formal education I had achieved levels of success, acquired positions, and I been given opportunities I clearly did not deserve nor did I earn if you take your measurement through the academic process that normally governs successful careers.  No MBA, No masters. Zippo! 

Success at being “somebody”??  Absolutely! 

But at what cost? 

 Late hours at work.  Years on the road. Missed birthday parties and events for my kids. A wife going to bed alone and tired after a hard day doing her best to raise boys while I traveled. Oh by the way while still working full time. 

There was love that was never made. Hugs that were never given and tears that were never dried.

A Delta frequent flyer account that hit 187,000 miles. Yes! I was first on every plane I flew on.

 Truly a high price to pay just to be “somebody”.

What about the husband track? Father track????  

Sadly, epic fail! 

In 2003 it all came tumbling down.  BASS had been purchased by ESPN and they had new ideas of what they wanted to do and how they wanted to do it. My resistance to change and my stubborn drive to do what “I” thought was right cost me EVERYTHING I had worked so hard to attain. 

On July 7, 2003 I was fired from ESPN for “not supporting the new mission". I went from a six-figure income to Alabama unemployment of $243 dollars a week for a family of 4.

I went from being “somebody” a BIG “somebody”, traveling, meeting with presidents (had lunch with the president of Mexico at the time, President Vicente Fox, which was cool!) and foreign dignitaries. I went from being well known and recognized within the bass fishing world, to working part time at a local hardware store and tackle shop. 

My “Somebody” the “Someone“ I had put so much time into, sacrificed so much for and put so much value on, was gone! 

At that point, my track switched to survival.  “All” I had left was the things I had placed such little time and value into over the years. A loving, faithful, and patient wife, my healthy kids, and my own health.  MY definition of “SOMEBODY” was gone in the blink of an eye.

Survival track it was, and survive we did. New jobs, rearranged budgets and a sense of humility and focus on family that had been missing for so many years. 

It was truly the best thing that could have ever happen to me! 

It took a few years for us to get back to being comfortable again as the world defines comfortable, but we made it.

Survival track? Success!

What is my current track? A question I had not thought about until this morning. 

Well, I guess it can be summed up with one word.   “Good”.  

 I have transitioned from survival track, to a track of wanting to be good.

I want to be a good husband.

I want to be a good Dad, a good Grandpa

a good son, 

a good friend. 

A good father-in law 

I want to give good hugs. 

I want to make people laugh when I can.

I want to make people smile and think with my writing.

And when I lay down beside my wife each night, I want to feel good about the current “track” I am on.

How am I doing on this current track? Not sure? Progress is usually better judged looking back.  Somedays I think I am headed in the right direction, other days I’m looking in the rear-view mirror of life thinking “if only”.

So, I guess when I look in the mirror, who I see is someone who has had many “tracks” in his life. Some ended well. Others not so much!

 If I could go back and make one change, one change that could alter the course of my life. One change that would reset the tracks I would take in that life.

 I would simply replace one word in my life. 

Just one word!

I would replace the word “somebody” With the word….

 “Good”

Evan W. Plourde

(1938-2009)

As we slowly walk back to the car along the path that follows the Long Falls section of the Dead River, my eye catches a flash of sunshine reflecting from the bottom of a big tree. 

To investigate I had to step off the path only a few feet.

There under the tree was a small makeshift memorial.   There was an iron pipe driven into the ground with a plaque attached to the top that read “Evan W. Plourde, 1938-2009”

Clearly it had been there for some time.  The pipe was rusted and the plaque was tarnished from years of weather.

There were several additions to the memorial that had been added over time.

 A small American flag was perched over the memorial. 

 Measuring only a couple inches, it was still clearly visible and standing guard exactly when it had been placed.

The material was rotting from age and exposure. The flag had slidden down the tiny pole that helped keep it in place. 

Although old and ravaged by time, the flag still flew over the tiny scene.

There were also two crosses that had been brought to the site over the years.

One appeared to be made of bundled sticks on a wire frame that was shaped like a cross.  The wire was badly rusted, but the cross still held together. There was a faded plastic flower and fake ivy wired to the cross. 

Based on the level of fade they had been there many years. 

The final piece that had been added to the site was a small wooden cross.  

It seemed to be made of pressure treated wood as it was holding up better than the others and had the tell tale green hue . It may have been a more recant addition, I am not sure. 

Stapled to this cross was also a faded plastic flower and fern.

As Lisa and I stood there admiring the little site, we speculated the many possible reasons for the memorial.

Had Mr. Plourde’s life ended here on the river while fishing or exploring? 

At 71 years of age he may have taken his final moments in the rugged landscape that surrounds this beautiful location. 

Had his family memorialized the location of his final day? 

 A logical reason for such a fitting memorial for sure.

Or was this memorial placed here due to a deep love of the area by Mr. Plourde after his passing?

 Had this location somehow played a significant role in his life. 

Had he proposed to the love of his life at this beautiful location? 

Was it a favorite fishing hole that a lifetime was spent exploring?  

Was he a military veteran who found solitude and escape in this area when the demons of a war gone by crept into his daily life?

There are any number of possibilities as to why someone erected and continues to maintain this small memorial to Mr. Plourde.

 I may never know the real reason for this memorial in the woods of Western Maine. 

No, I probably never will, but there is one thing for sure.

 It worked!

For a short period of time, on a sunny day in August of 2020.

Two strangers took a moment to think about and in our way, honor Mr. Evan W. Plourde.

Who he was, how he died and most importantly, what that area meant to him, we may never know.

 But for a moment in time, 11 years after his death, two complete strangers hiking in the woods of Maine, gave thought to Mr. Evan W. Plourde.

And now ……………………………………. So have you.

 

 When I received the invitation I was thrilled, I had heard about this trip for years and the stories that came from it. 

Excited to get the invitation at the time, I was also saddened by the reason for that invitation. 

You see John's family has been going into this area to fish for trout and explore the region for over 80 years. 

Generations of his family have hiked and explored the region in pursuit of the iconic Maine Brook Trout. 

Fathers have introduced sons and daughters to the area for generations, while only trusted friends were allowed access to the tradition over the years. 

Even Johns mother was taken into this area as a small girl and floated on homemade rafts with her dad to get to good fishing spots.

For decades it was the yearly outing of family and only the closest of friends and colleagues.

For the last 20 years John, his brother and their father Bob kept the tradition going. Each year they would come together to embarked on a 5-day trip to chase trout and continue this long-standing tradition. A tradition for Bob that was simply apart of who he was.

Sadly, the ravages of time forced Bob to end his long standing tradition last year. He simply could not make the trip anymore. For the first time in over 50 years Bobs presence would not be felt at camp. 

Johns brother also went in a different direction leaving John to continue the tradition alone. So last year John made the journey alone and spent the week fishing just the same. Sadly, John was the last man standing in a tradition that looked destined to finally fade away.

Fast forward to a discussion last fall where the invitation came for me to join this tradition.

 An invitation to possibly carry on the traditions of the past while starting a new chapter.  

I quickly accepted while not completely realizing the gift I had been given.

 What started as the two of us, soon developed into Johns son Isaac accepting an invitation to come out for a few days to “give it a try" .

An invitation also went out to my son Justin who would have gladly attended if not for his few week-old new baby girl, he reluctantly declined, but a strong commitment for future years was given. 

We just got back from the trip and it was a great success. 

John and I spent 5 days following in the footsteps of the generations that preceded him.  

We caught trout all week with an effort fit for the much younger. We were up by 3:am each day to head afield and returned most days well after dark. 

Throughout the week there was always an eye to the past, 

“dad and I used to” …  

“one-time uncle Bill and dad” ………. 

“You should have seen the time Mark and I “. 

It became clear to me just how much a part of Johns life this trip was and how important it was to him that it continue. 

And continue it will! Johns son had a great time and vowed to return every year. I loved every second of it and cannot wait for next year already and Justin is looking forward to it also after hearing my tales of the week.

So, we have started a new chapter in this book, a chapter with a remnant from the past combined with new faces and a promise for the future. 

Each year we will make new memories without forgetting the ones from yesteryear.

 We will tell stories of those who came before us to ensure their memories live on.

 We will exaggerate fishing tales in an attempt to keep up with those who have done so successfully for 80 years. 

Bob has passed on and we are all saddened by our loss, but we know every year he will be there with us as we embark on this adventure.

I know Bob will be silently guiding us through the woods as we head into the remote ponds each year.  He will be guiding our flies and delicately laying them on the water as we wait for the trout to take our offering.

John has assumed the role of his father, the torch has been passed and he is now the leader of this new effort. He is the camp cook, the organizer and the gate keeper of the knowledge that only he can share. 

 Bob would be proud of how this next chapter has unfolded and how his son is leading the way.

 You will be missed Bob but never forgotten. 

We will do our best to carry on the traditions you have passed down from those who came before you, share the countless stories you shared with us over the years, while we  make new ones of our own. 

The dedication you showed to this tradition will carry on!

 How?

36 years ago, on this day in June my life changed forever.  In a ceremony that to me sadly, was not much more than a formality at the time. Something I “had” to do to get on with my life.

 I married Lisa Crooker on June 2, 1984.

She was all I ever wanted and all I ever needed but it would be years before I figured that out.  All I knew at the time was that she was beautiful, sexy and I thought I was in love with her. (Oh, how little I knew about real love)

It would be many years before I knew just how much she completed me. How she softened my edges, cooled my temper and rained in my crazy ideas. 

Years before I knew she provided the stability I needed in my life to be happy and years before I truly knew what love was and how much I really did love her!

She would become my best friend without my even realizing it.

She has quietly sacrificed so much for me and has never gotten or expected a thank you for her efforts.

She wanted to go to college for computer science right after high school, but I wouldn’t wait. I had a life to live and if she wanted to be with me it was time to move forward. I would not be tied down to any collage, town or schedule. So, she gave up her desire to go to collage and we were off. Something I truly regret taking from her.

When a Job in Alabama called after 16 years of marriage and it was a great opportunity for “ME”, she gave up her career and her life in Maine and we moved the family 1400 miles to middle Alabama. A sacrifice she made with no hesitation or complaint. She left behind lifelong friends and family so I could follow a dream. A dream that faded just 3 short years later.

While I chased a career so I could “make a name for myself” she selflessly stayed home and raised our two boys. I would spend weeks on the road while she worked a job, took care of the kids and kept the house going. Some years I would be on the road up to 200 nights a year. 

“I” had the pleasure of traveling to every state in the United States except North Dakota, all the providences of Canada and Mexico within a short three-year span.

 I did all this while she sat at home fighting with teenage boys and silently dealing with the loneliness caused by my absence.

The nights I was not there to hold her were many! Too many nights she had to struggle alone to make it all work, while I enjoyed life on the road seeing some of the best places in America. Sleeping in high priced hotels and eating at the best of restaurants around this country. 

So I ask you how?

In 36 years, she has been laid off once from a job. I have had 19 jobs!   I have gone home 4 times with a pit in my stomach to give the news that my job had been eliminated and I was unemployed. I have gone home twice with the embarrassment of having to say I had been fired and our income was now cut in half overnight. 

Through all the years of upheaval and change she still made the budget work and we never missed a payment and never fell behind. 

So I ask you how?

She never blamed me for the turmoil I brought into our life together, and boy there was a lot of it over the years.  She accepted it and made the best of it. If she resented the upheaval and the chaos that seemed to follow me at times. I never new it, I never heard it.

We have lived in 3 different states in at least 11 different houses and 4 different apartments. She made each one a warm and loving home for us.

We went from Maine to Alabama, Alabama to Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania to Maine, Maine back to Alabama, and finally Alabama back to Maine ! (Oh how I have learned to pack a moving truck !) 

You see if there is one thing I bring to this 36-year love affair, it is the element of the unknown.  What now? when? Where?  

Good or bad I seem to be drawn to the element of change. Maybe I get bored, maybe I am just not satisfied with an “average” life. I really do not know what drives my desire to always be on the go but I am. 

Some change caused by me, some thrust upon us! Yet through it all she remains right beside me.

That is the one thing I can always depend on, the fact that Lisa will always be by my side. She will always be there to love and support me. To protect me from myself and lift me up to accomplish what I can. 

So, I ask you again........ How?  

How do you thank someone like that? What tribute is befitting such a level of commitment and sacrifice?

How do you ever repay the years of love, support, kindness and understanding she has brought to our life together.

 How?

How do you thank someone who provided years of love you did not deserve; support you did not earn and forgiveness you did not asked for?

How? 

Happy Anniversary Lisa, I love you!

And yes, 

Thank you!

 Mr. Peeps!

This story is almost a year old.

I wanted to write about it before now but just never got around to it. I think the new life that spring bring to us inspired me to put this story together.

Until August of last year, Lisa and I had our camper at Dummers Beach in weld Maine. Our seasonal site was along the brook that led into the pond. It was a great location as we could sit at our lot and had direct access to the brook that slowly flowed by. My chair was often feet from the brook.

When I first saw Mr. Peeps he was with his mother and little brother. No, I don’t know for sure either of them were boys but it’s my story, so I get to decide.

I knew Mr. Peeps and could always pick him out of a ducky crowd because unlike other ducks he had a small white patch on the side of his head.

I was never close enough to be able to see what it was, but it was how I identified him. That and he was also ALWAYS peeping, Peep, Peep, Peep!

Not only was he always last in the line of ducks with mom and brother leading him, he seemed to be always falling behind. A fact that only increased the peeping that came from Mr. Peeps.

The brook we camped by was a great place for a mama ducks to raise their ducklings. There must have been 5 or 6 families swimming up and down the brook each day. Some with up to 4 or 5 ducklings.

They grew fast as the weeks went on, but nothing changed. Our brook was full of duck families and one was always Mr. Peeps and his mom and brother.

When we would arrive at the camper from being away, I would always check out the brook and see who was there. By early July the Ducklings were about half the size of their momma’s.

We had been gone on a camping trip to Lubec Maine for a long weekend. When we got back to the camper something was different. The duck families were doing their usual swimming up and down the brook, but this time Mr. Peeps was alone? No mom? No brother? Mr. Peeps just went up and down the brook loudly peeping, in my mind, looking for his family. A family who clearly was not there.

As I watched Mr. peeps for the next couple of weeks he would try to merge in with one of the other families but unfortunately none would have him. They would always scurry off leaving him alone, peeping loudly as they left him behind.

Mr. Peeps never stopped peeping but finally gave up on trying to find a new family to join.

The last time I saw Mr. Peeps he was the size of an adult duck. He was still swimming up and down the stream and he was still peeping, only now it was a quack, an adult quack.

Although he never found that surrogate family, I knew he was going to be alright. He had grown into a full-size duck and with all indications was healthy.

I do not know what happen to mom and brother. It’s a wild area and I have my suspicions, but I cannot be sure.

Depending on your outlook on life, this story is either a terrible tale about of the cruelty of life and the pain it can bring. Its about lose, loneliness, and the worst of what can happen in life.

OR

It is the story of triumph and the strong desire to survive of a little duck. A duck that beat the odds and survived to become an adult.

I choose to believe in the triumph and strong desire to live angle.

I hope this spring he has a family of his own and he teaches them how to .............PEEP !

Why?

 And that's why !

“I read about this waterfall on the stream that runs by the cabin. There is no path to it. We can drive to within a mile of the falls and then hike the rest of the way. It’s only a mile into the falls, you want to see if we can find it!” I asked knowing what the answer would be  “Sure!” she said without hesitation.

Fast forward 2 hours and we are deep into some of the toughest terrain we have ever hiked .  The ground was steep and rocky. There was no trail and I was trying to pick my way along the best I could.  We would go through areas so thick you just had to lean forward and push the small trees out of the way. Then we would be on a hillside so steep we could barely stand up. By all accounts it was miserable hiking. 

Now I am 6 foot 2 inches tall and Lisa is 5 foot 2 inches tall. I always have to remember her legs are about half as long as mine as we do any hiking. I had to make sure I was taking it slow so she could keep up.

Every so often I would say “You making it?”     All I would hear coming from a few feet behind was a labored voice saying “YUP” as cheerfully as she could muster. 

I knew this was hard on us both, we are not young anymore and even at 25 this would have been a challenge, but on we trudged. GPS in hand and end goal plotted.

I remember thinking to myself “boy this waterfall better be good” as we slowly worked up and down the side of the mountain trying to reach our destination.

When we finally got there my heart sank as I pushed through the thick alders and could see the falls.

 It was MUCH smaller than I thought.  CRAP! I thought!! 

 Lisa made it through the alders and looked at the falls.

 I waited for what seemed like minutes for the “REALLY!” this is what I killed myself to get to?? I have new bruises and scratches and I took a chunk out of my leg and I’m bleeding, FOR THIS ??? ” and she would have been right and justified for her frustration.

But although all of that was true, and she was bleeding. She looked at the falls and said, “Isn’t that pretty!”   

THAT is exactly why I love her so much!  She always sees the best in every situation. Instead of focusing on the nightmare we went through to get there ( and what we needed to go BACK through to get back to the truck) she saw the beauty of the moment and sat on the rocks to soak it in.

How I got so lucky I will never know!

 The Lake

As I look over, I can see her hand tightly gripping the door handle. She literally has a white-knuckle grip on the door.  We just slid about a foot to the left as we try to make our way up the steep trail . A trail that was a gravel road and is now covered with snow and the snow is getting deeper as we drive on. I can see her body is very tense and she is not liking life right now.  

Don’t worry as soon as I can find a spot I’ll turn around. As I look over there is both relief and an immediate easing of the tension that she was feeling. Like the flip of a light switch my announcement that the journey was over was welcomed!

Let’s go back 6 hours to earlier in the day.  As we drink coffee and I watch the local news another day of stress is starting to build , another day in a long string of days that seem to be building more intense as each day ticks by “ Open our state your killing it !”     “Stay at home, Stop being selfish!”      “How can you be so careless as to want more people to die “  “ How can you not see businesses and families are going to be ruined “

Each side is right! Each side is  wrong ! There is no easy answer and it is getting uglier every day!

We need to get away for the day!  No news! No Facebook!  No arguing with some and defending with others! Just me and you alone with Sirius Radio (which has no local news!)  

Let’s head north and see if we can get to the lake! I said.  When I say "the lake" I don’t even need to say the name, she knows what I am talking about,  it’s my favorite place on earth and I haven’t seen it since May of last year!

Great idea lisa said with a smile!

We loaded her new Jeep and off we went. 

I forgot my Phone! she announced a short ways up our road! Great!! I said with clear annoyance in my voice. I swung into a driveway and headed back. We both were stressed and working hard not to lash out at the other.

Finally, we were on our way. The more we drove the more relaxed we became. By our first coffee stop in Norridgewock I could feel the stress beginning to wane. An hour later we hit Dover Foxcroft and I was reaching a level of calm I have not felt in weeks.  By the town of Milo, I am feeling great as I am nearing the final leg in our journey.

We had been on the road almost 3 hours when we turned off the pavement and onto the gravel road.  WOW the road looks great! I can’t believe how dry it is and NO snow!! 

To be successful we must make it 21 miles down the dirt road. Hope grows as I think maybe, just maybe we can make it all the way there today, but first 21 miles of dirt logging roads with any number of obstacles that may halt our journey must be navigated.

I cannot explain what this area means to me. I am not sure I completely understand it myself.  I have been coming here since I was a young. I may have been 10 or 12 years old when I made my first trip. I don’t really recall the exact year, but I have loved this place ever since.

Its deep in the middle of what most folks would call “nowhere”! 

No one lives there and many of my trips to the area are void of another person for the entire stay. 

I can’t explain the calm and peace I feel while I am there. The world disappears and the stress of life fades away like the setting sun. 

 I truly feel that I am "who I am meant to be", while I am within the boundaries of this area. It has called me back for over 40 years and I don’t see how that will ever end until I can no longer make the trip.

At about 10 miles in the snow starts to make its appearance along the sides of the road. We are going deeper into the woods and higher in elevation.   By the time we hit mile 15 the road is about 75% covered with snow and what isn’t snow is mud.

By mile 18, only three miles from my destination, I am driving the jeep (Lisa’s brand new Jeep Renegade with less than 1000 miles) up a road that, in reality, is still a snowmobile trail as it is completely covered with snow. Snow that is getting thicker with every mile. We have gone through mud holes, washouts and deep ruts to get to this point.

Fast forward to the beginning of this story and turn around we did.  

 I could not make it to the lake, but we got close!  Close enough to ease the stress and tensions of the past month and all the world has thrust upon us. 

Close enough to remind me of who I am and what truly is important.   There is so much in the world I cannot control. So much I have no impact on nor can I change the outcome. 

What I can do is plan my next attempt to get there! 

My next trip I will make it!  I am sure of it!  

THAT I can have an impact on! That I can focus on and put effort into.   And that is exactly what I plan to do.

I will get there soon!

The Missed Sunset !!

Let’s go up to Height of the land in Rangeley and watch the sunset, I said as we walked through Walmart.  It’s a beautiful sun filled day and we need to get out of the house!  Sure, lisa said. 

We finished our shopping and drove home to put stuff away before we headed north. 

As we drove there, which takes about an hour, my cloud free sky started to darken on the horizon.   LOOK!! I said, clouds are coming in!   You watch and see if by the time we get there the sunset will be hidden! I sputtered in disgust!

So, on we drove and the closer we got the thicker the clouds got on the horizon and started moving across the sky. In my usual way I started fussing before we even got there. “Yup gonna drive all this way and end up with NO SUNSET!  I murmured and fussed the last couple miles as my prediction came true, The sun was gone behind the clouds never to return this day .

Lisa never said a word as we neared the look out. As we sat there clearly NOT getting a sunset,  I went on and fussed more about things not going my way and wasting time, should have stayed home!  First time trying to get a sunset and NOOOOO mother nature has to throw us a curve ball and ruin MY plans!!

So, what about Lisa? She did what she always does. She saw the beauty in life! 

While I ranted and raved about the unfair situation and wasted time and gas, she went about the situation like she goes about life. 

She took out her camera and began to take pictures, after each one she showed me the beauty of what she had seen and the pictures she had taken. 

She brings to my world the joys and beauty I would miss if she was not in my life ! She quietly and patiently brings joy to my life when I seemingly do everything I can to avoid it and try not to see it.

She completes me and makes me so much better than I would be without her! She "is" the beauty in my life and she makes sure I don't miss the beauty around me! No matter how hard I try !

Here is a the picture she took and the beauty SHE did not need anyone to show her!

 As I look out my window I am greeted warmly by the setting sun. It is losing its grip on our side of this rock we live on. There is a haze everywhere and although I can see through it, it casts an eerie shade and shadows on everything that lies so far below.

I am at 27,000 feet on the last leg of our trip. The sun is racing for the horizon at what seems like an unusually fast pace!

The plane is almost silent, just the hum of the engines and the rhythmic click of the stewardess’s cart as she does her best to provide us a quick drink and a snack.

The silence is unusually strange for a plane with this many people. I have flown hundreds of flights. My frequent flyer miles are pushing 200,000 miles. Normally only the Red eye flights maintain this level of silence.

It may be the looming Virus that has everyone on edge. Maybe they are simply solemn thinking about what lies ahead with a virus none of us are familiar with. What will it bring? Who will it choose to visit? Loved ones? Co-workers? How serious will it be and what will it do to our lives? All things I should be worried about!

Although I should be worried I'm not, my heart is full, and I have a smile on my face that won't fade! 

Katherine Alice

My bride of 36 years is by my side and we are returning from a 5-day trip to visit our granddaughter. (oh ya and her parents)

It was a precious time with nothing to do but spend time holding her, getting to know her and letting her get to know me.

You see I have only been with her twice since she was born. Once in July of last year, when she entered this world and again in October for a quick 2-day trip. Although it was wonderful to visit the exchange was purely one way.

This visit was what I have been waiting for! This visit began the relationship I will maintain and cherish for the rest of my days.

This visit I met a smart, beautiful, expressive, stubborn little girl.

A young lady who knows what she wants, when she wants it and doesn’t like no for an answer!

Of course, I think she is smarter than most, prettier than all and more precious than life itself!

I am so glad I was able to introduce myself to her this weekend. I think we are going to get along just fine!

Grampa Loves you young lady!!

 My Rock

“Hey Mom, I’m going play up at the Big Rock”

“Be careful and be home by dark”

“DARK?? Come on ma!!!”

“Alan you’re 7 years old, do as you’re told or don’t go “

“OK…. fine!!”

   That conversation took place many times in my early childhood. You see the “Big Rock” was a magical place at the top of the hill (we called it the mountain) beside our house on the east Jay road. The mountain was completely cleared each year by my Gramp who would use it for pastureland for his cows. 

   Perched at the very top of the mountain was a large rock about the size of a VW beetle projecting out of the ground. To a 7-year-old it was a huge rock.  The rock sloped back against the slope of the hill and made almost a walkway up to the top. Once at the top, the rock dropped off straight down to the ground  some 5 to 6 feet below.  The mountain was probably 150 to 200 feet above the road that ran below. It was a steep walk down to the road. From the rock you could see forever to the south! Sitting on that rock was like being in a different world, to me I was on top of the world!

The Rock was a place I loved to go as a kid. I would spend hours sitting on top of the rock looking south over the valley. To the left you could see my gramps farm just across the road. I would often watch him scurry about taking care of his chores knowing he had no idea I was watching from my perch on the rock. 

  From the top of the rock I could see far off places. Places I knew nothing about as a 7-year-old, I was sure it had to be another state. There was nothing blocking your sight for as far as you could see. On a sunny day you could even see a mystical shiny stretch of ground that glistened in the bright sunlight. It would only shine on certain days and at certain times. I thought it was the roof of a giant building but I later in life figured out the shiny stretch was the sun reflecting off the Androscoggin river miles away from where I sat.

   The rock was a special place, a place where you could get away from whatever was bugging you and become whoever you wanted to be. I would sit on top and look off into the world laid out before me having no idea of what or where I was looking. All I knew was sitting on that rock alone, I was happy and loved being there. I had no idea why nor at that age did I think about it ..

    The Rock was a safe place to spend time, a place where you could be yourself without the worry of what others might say or think. A place where a soggy eyed boy could mend his broken heart after being rejected by his most recent love.   A place where I could go when angry and somehow it just drained away as I would sit there and stare out over what had to be, in my mind, most of the world! 

    I moved away from my rock when I was 12 or so, but my visits didn’t stop. I was only a bike ride and eventually a car ride away from my old friend.  

   The Big Rock went from a cool place to marvel and wonder over the world as a wide-eyed boy, to a safe place of solitude for a growing young man. It became my sanctuary when things were not going well. I pondered many of life’s challenges as a young man sitting on that rock gazing off into the distance. It was a place where how smart you where, or how talented you were at sports didn’t matter. A place where the acne would fade away and a clumsy teen could escape the pressures of life to have a sense of peace in a hectic world he didn’t understand. I went there often.

   The last time I remember sitting on that rock I was a young man who was engaged to be married to a wonderful girl who was planning a life with me and yet I was still deeply in love with Lisa.  Many hours were spent sitting on that rock trying to figure out what to do and how to do it.  I knew there would be tears, I knew there would be anger and eventually I hoped there would be happiness for everyone but first I had to figure it all out.

 Eventually I did.

   My rock and the peacefulness of being there helped me move forward that day, just like it had many times before!

   That was 37 years ago. I don’t remember ever going back for a visit like that again.

You can see in the two photos how much it has changed. The rock is now hidden from view, when Gramp passed no one kept the mountain cleared and nature took over engulfing my rock.  I’m sure sitting on it now, there is nothing but a view of the trees that now tower above it. 

My view that was so important to me is now gone. 

I am somewhat saddened by the thought that I will never see that view again.  

I may walk up this spring just to sit on my rock and say hello.  If it was alive, I would thank it for years of being a faithful companion, a force that ignited the imagination of a small child, for being the ear that listened and the shoulder I  leaned on as a young man who just needed a place to rest from what the world was dishing out.

   But alive it is not……… 

 I might thank it anyway!