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Interview: Sam McGee – the Village of Asticou and the Savage family

On October 9, 2017, I met Sam McGee at his home in the Asticou neighborhood of Northeast Harbor. Sam is part of the 7th generation of the Savage family to live on Mount Desert Island, and is one of the family historians (Sam’s uncle, Rick Savage, is another, and you’ll be hearing from him in another interview.) His article on Maine Memory Net, “The Savage Family of Mount Desert,”  is a great starting point for anyone interested in the family. Since members of the Savage family were involved with Thuya Garden, the Asticou Inn, and the Asticou Azalea Garden, and since the family has lived in the Asticou area since 1820, he seemed like a pretty key person to consult about local history.

Rough boundaries of the Asticou neighborhood. I’m not clear on whether Lower Hadlock would be part of it or not.

Jenn:                … I’ve been doing some reading [to prep for talking to you,] like I read Down Memory Lane by Emily … Oh my gosh. She grew up at Asticou.

Sam:                Oh, Emily Kenney? [Ed.note: Emily was married a few times, so has various names in the archives. At the time she wrote Down Memory Lane, she was Emily Phillips Reynolds.]  Well, I think her last name might have been Kenney at one time … . She was older than my grandfather, but they were first cousins. I can barely remember her being alive, but I remember her. Her grandparents built the hotel, and so she grew up as a kid hanging around the hotel and was interested in history and wrote down a lot about it.

Jenn:                Yeah, her book is just charming. … She was talking about sledding down the ice … they’d slide down the hill into town.

Sam:                They used to harvest ice out of Lower Hadlock Pond, and there was a wooden sluiceway that went all the way down to the harbor to load the ice onto ships, and so the kids would get on there.

Jenn:                Oh, is that what she’s talking about?

Sam:                Yeah. The kids would basically take big trays from the hotel and go slide down that.

Jenn:                Oh, cool!

Sam:                My great-aunt who owned this place [Sam’s house, where we were talking] … talked about doing that as a kid. … I haven’t been able to find any physical remnants of that sluiceway, but it’s pretty interesting to think that it went all the way up to the pond from there. It came down on … the western side of the harbor. If you read the Champlain [Society] diary that I sent you, that was another point of orientation that helped me figure out where they were – they talked about looking back up towards … Ice House Hill or something like that … they could probably see [the ice house] back then because it was still there. …

Jenn:                You are like your own archive here!

Sam:                I know. Well, it’s just I’ve got all this stuff. I’ve been trying to digitize some of it, but it’s really unorganized right now. I need help. [Emily Reynolds’] mom wrote [a memoir] and it may be helpful for you later on because she talks a little bit about her Manchester ancestors… . When the Manchesters first settled there, it was right around the time of the war of 1812, and the British came and destroyed their property, killed and stole all their animals and stuff [except] apparently one cow that escaped into the woods. … I think her mom writes about that a little bit in that, in her [memoir].

Jenn:                Oh, I’d love to read that. Would you mind if I put some of these online on the blog?

Memoir by Cora Savage Phillips, mother of Emily Phillips Reynolds:

Early History + Personal Recollections of NEH Cora Savage Phillips

 

Sam:                Yeah, I don’t mind. I don’t think you really need permission from anybody because it’s hard to say who, so many generations later, who owns all this stuff.

Jenn:                Well, if anyone objected, I would just take it down.

Sam:                Yeah, I don’t think they’re going to because I think all the people that might get upset about it are dead!

Jenn:                [Laughs.] I shouldn’t laugh.

Sam:                No, it’s just time passes, and I believe if this is interesting to anybody other than me, then it should be shared. … Otherwise, this stuff’s just going to get lost. … My uncle, Rick Savage, and I talk a lot about it because in his generation, he’s kind of the family historian and I’m probably the next person who has any interest in it. He remembers Charles Savage and he remembers Emily and he spent a lot of time with both of them, gathering family history stuff. But at some point, [unless people pass these stories on,] that sort of link to the past would be lost, right? Because I barely knew both of them. I can remember them [from when I was a kid], but not enough to have a detailed conversation about family history or something. … Once you lose those ties, then you don’t have the personal recollection of all of that, and so it’s good to get it out there and for people to talk about it while they still remember the people who wrote it. …

Recollections of Grandfather+Grandmother Emily Phillips Reynolds 1982

For me, I feel lucky. I grew up in this neighborhood where I’ve got so much personal history in my mom’s family, … I didn’t know a lot of it until I was an adult or appreciate it as much. … One of the things that I think about every time I come down past Upper Hadlock Pond is Emily Kenney … in this memoir that she wrote… one time she talks about the fact that she was sick as a kid and her grandparents took her over to Bar Harbor to go to the doctor in the middle of winter, and that was an ordeal back then.

Jenn:                I imagine.

Sam:                I think at the time, they ended up spending the night at Fred Savage’s house on Atlantic Avenue because he had moved over there, remarried. It was kind of a scandal in the family because he divorced his first wife and left Northeast and went over to … Bar Harbor, but obviously whatever rift was there, it must not have been that bad because the grandparents took her to the doctor over there and spent the night. But then on the way back, … there was a [snow drift] at the top of Hadlock that tipped the [sleigh] over. I get the impression it was the first time she realized that her grandparents were mortal, you know what I mean? That they were getting a little bit older. Often when you go up that hill in a snowstorm [even today], … the snow will drift across the road at the southern end of the pond, and that image is really compelling to me …

I had specifically asked Sam if he had photos or records of the Asticou shoreline, so we started chatting about some materials he sent me about the Champlain Society. You may need some background here. The Champlain Society was a group of Harvard students led by Charles Eliot, Jr., who spent summers on Mount Desert Island studying natural history beginning in 1880. We will be learning a lot more about them in our next interview; until then, if you’d like to know more, this article is a good introduction: https://friendsofacadia.org/the-champlain-society-transcriptions/ 

Sam:                If you read the history about the Champlain Society, the first summer they were over [on the Sound], but then they couldn’t secure access to that anymore, so they came over [to Asticou] – I’m pretty sure the first summer they were [at Asticou], which was 1882, they were down where Story Litchfield’s house is. I’m almost positive of it because … if you read the journal and the descriptions of where they are, they talked about being above what was called Savage’s Wharf. … There’s a little boathouse on the shore [now] and then her house up above. Down by the boathouse, there used to be a wharf. They talked a lot about being camped up above that. …

Jenn:                That seems pretty definitive.

“Attached is a picture from around 1927 which shows the boathouse when Savage’s wharf was still there next to the Savage boathouse, as well as Richard Estes’ dock and boathouse (still there). I think the Champlain society camped in 1882 just to the left (west) above the boathouse, roughly where Story Litchfield’s house now is. In the 1880’s the boathouse was not there, but the wharf was.” Photo and caption courtesy of Sam McGee.

Champlain Society camp log, Northeast Harbor, 1884. Photo taken by the Champlain Society, probably 1883. “Camp Asticou and the Harbor from the roof of the new Harbor Cottage.” The Harbor Cottage was built in 1883 and stood in roughly the same place as the current Asticou Inn (which was constructed ca. 1901.) Their tents appear to be down by the Shellheap property. Photo courtesy of the MDI Historical Society.

Sam:                Then the next year, the picture that I sent you that’s taken from the hotel, that was when the hotel had just been built. In 1883, they had just built the … first building, and … it looks like [the Champlain Society] tents are set up where the McIlhenny-Thompson property is, which is a little bit farther down. … It seems to me that they moved around wherever they were able to secure a space for the summer. I think that’s how the whole Eliot family ended up coming up here… . I think originally the father camped out on Calf Island over near Bar Harbor, but then the son came up here with all of his Harvard buddies, and then talked the father into [buying land] in that general vicinity, and … the people over at Coffeepot you talked to are all descended from that family. [Ed.note: that was Coast Walk 17.] …

Sam:                … Did you see the Chebacco for this year? … They reprinted A.C. Savage’s Memoirs of a Lifetime in the [2017 issue]. Rick Savage and I helped Tim Garrity try to identify places that are talked about in the [issue], and we went over to COA early this year and worked with Gordon [Longsworth.] [He’s] a map guru guy over there who’s got this fancy GIS program. He took old maps, overlaid them on newer maps, and helped pinpoint [places]. Rick and I tried to guess as best we could where the log cabin on the east side of Harbor Brook would’ve been and stuff like that. [Ed. note: Where the first Savage family cabin was: see Coast Walk 17 ] … A.C. Savage talks about [a time] when he was a little kid [that] he got sick…. His mother sent him down [to a family living near the current Shellheap property] to do an errand, and on the way back he became so dizzy … that he fell down and passed out. Probably right where the Asticou Dock is [now]. …

Jenn:                Poor kid!  [Ed.note: This was in 1840. A.C. had contracted typhus, which was going through the community. One of his brothers died of it. A.C. writes, “How plain I can remember the day I was taken sick! There was no road on the east side of the harbor at that time, so we had to walk along the edge of the water along the shore at low tide. When the tide was up we went by the wood road above the ledge where the Curtis road now is. The day I was taken sick, mother sent me down by the shore to go to aunt Harriet Pung’s. I went and did the errand and on my way home I became dizzy and fell off what we called “the big rocks” about half way from Pung Head to our wharf. After a time I got up cold and wet, the tide having flowed up around me, my face and head bleeding. However, I got home and was put to bed where I lay for several weeks.”]

A.C.Savage_memories_of_a_lifetime

Sam:                … When you think about it, so many things could go wrong where somebody could’ve died or drowned because they didn’t know how to swim. It’s like in the Champlain [Society] Journal, there’s one entry in there about how Fred Savage, the architect, he was probably … 15 years old or something, I’m guessing by the timeline. He was swimming down off the wharf and got a charlie horse and almost drowned, but the Champlain Society people saved him. … There’s barely a mention of it in this journal, but then I think to myself, if it weren’t for the Eliot family, he never would have been an architect.

From the Champlain Society Journal 1883, p.75: “While all were busy preparing for dinner, a sudden cry for help caused a rush for the shore. Sam who reached it first found Fred Savage in the water in an exhausted condition, and helped him out on to the float; cramp and inexperience in swimming had put in considerable danger of drowning.” Transcript and scans of the journal courtesy of MDI Historical Society via Maine Memory Network.

Jenn:                Right, and the physical history of the island would be different.

Sam:                Be completely different, yeah. Because it’s not just [saving him from drowning]. It’s also the fact that when [the Savages] started selling off lots and building summer houses for the Eliot family, Fred was working there as a carpenter and a day laborer and he got noticed by Eliot’s son-in-law, Robert Peabody, the architect, as being skilled. That’s how he ended up going down to Boston to be trained as an architect.

Jenn:                He worked at Peabody and Stearns didn’t he?

Sam:                Yes. … What I see [in] my family history is that way back early on, there was an emphasis on [education] – it was worth it to spend money on education. … I think his father would’ve helped parlay that meeting into encouraging Fred, ‘You should go to Boston. Don’t just stay here. You should go down there and get trained.’ Wow, what a big opportunity that was for somebody from very-rural-at-the-time Maine, you know? … yeah, you’re right. It changed the physical landscape of this town and Bar Harbor too, to some extent.

Jenn:                I mean, [Fred Savage] did the … well, it used to be the [Bar Harbor] school, but the town office, right?

Image courtesy of Special Collections, Raymond H. Fogler Library, DigitalCommons@UMaine,
https://digitalcommons.library.umaine.edu/spec_photos/991

Sam:                Yeah, that was one of his.

Jenn:                And the [Bar Harbor] fire station.

photos from Bryan, Maine Cottages, 2005.

Sam:                That was kind of one of his last things because… post World War I, people weren’t building as many summer homes, and so he started doing industrial projects because that’s what was out there for work.

Jenn:                I’m [thinking] back to your thread of how the Eliots influenced [the island], and … one of the things I’m finding on this walk is the way what happens in one generation has these repercussions that just grow. One of my favorite examples is the Charles Tracy expedition. Tracy was, I think, a New York lawyer, came up here with a big party of people [in 1855] … They were one of the first rusticator parties … . His daughter Fanny married J.P. Morgan and brought Morgan here on their honeymoon, which led to the Morgan Men [summering here] and half of the mansions that were built in Bar Harbor. … One of the Morgan Men was Fabbri, and his son [built] the radio station at Otter Cove, so there’s this crazy connection between these first rusticators in their ox cart and … the submarine station in Otter Cove.

Sam:                Which, if you think about it, [the generational continuity is] amazing: historically uninterrupted by time – because sometimes I think these things happen [in other places] and then three generations later, it goes away, but up here there’s still… well, if you look at Coffeepot [for example, the current owners] have to be seven generations or at least five [from] when the Eliots first came here.

Jenn:                Yeah. … Now you’ve got me thinking about the Eliot family and how they came here: this almost accidental coming-up-to-visit and then these huge repercussions. [Ed. note: So yeah, Eliot Senior goes camping one summer, brings his son the next year; the following year Eliot Junior brings his college friends, then Eliot Senior builds a house, the Eliots’ friends start visiting, and the next thing you know Northeast Harbor is a summer colony, Eliot Senior has helped create Acadia National Park, Robert Peabody has trained Fred Savage, Edward Rand has written The Flora of Mount Desert Island, and Fred Savage has defined the Shingle Style cottage on MDI. Heaven knows what else we’ll find. Stay tuned.] …

We wandered into discussion of non-Coast Walk things, and eventually came back around to demographic changes in Northeast Harbor:

Sam:                I often think, ‘Will my kids stay here at some point in their lives?’ or it might not be possible in terms of economics?

Jenn:                Yeah, but they might come back.

Sam:                They might, but I do think about affordability [and] the whole population of this particular village as part of Mount Desert. Even in the ’80s when I grew up here, I would describe it as peak population, and there were probably three times more year-round people that lived in the village – maybe it was 1,000 year-rounders in the village, and now it’s less than 300. When I was a kid, I can remember riding my bike downtown. You always easily found five or six other kids to play with, and it was a great little village because it’s got all this infrastructure. I think it’s a little different now. The infrastructure’s still there and that school’s still a magnet and the library’s still a magnet, but it’s much more of a commuter village and a commuter school, if you will, where kids get picked up and then they might go off to Somesville where real estate’s more affordable and middle class people can afford to live. It’s not the same as it was 30 years ago when I grew up and … my mom as a teacher could afford to live here. I don’t really think that’s feasible anymore. … But even given all that, I am always surprised at how resilient certain historical trends or family trees or whatever are around here. I think it is unusual compared to other parts of our country, which were historically up until very recently very mobile. I’ve been reading lately that Americans are a little less mobile than they used to be. … With industrial decline in our country, I think people are a little more stagnant than they used to be.

Jenn:                Well, I know for us, it’s a choice. … There was a time when we had to figure out, “Are we going to pursue our careers or are we going to do what it takes to stay here?”

Sam:                Yeah, and so you made the latter choice.

Jenn:                Yeah, which is why I’m now a [vacation] rental “mogul”. … That’s where I earn my living mostly. Photography brings in some money, but we certainly don’t live on that.

Sam:                The funny part is I don’t think that’s any different in some ways than the generations before us because they did whatever they had to do to get by.

Jenn:                Oh yeah, your family is classic.

Sam:                I think the whole getting into the hotel business here was an improvisation.

Jenn:                Yeah, and renting out boats at one point. Just whatever people wanted, they supplied. More or less.

Sam:                Because A.C. and Emily Savage, who I think of as the third generation, he was pretty much a schooner captain. I think of him as a glorified truck driver, right?

Jenn:                Yeah, he was coasting, right? [Ed.note: ‘coasting’ was the 19th century term for short-range shipping along the coast.]

Sam:                Yeah, and so he’s just delivering stuff up and down the coast. He might have deforested the hillside here and sold the logs to make money. Then he was in the Civil War, so he got to get out and see the world a little bit… [but] because he was in the Navy, I don’t think he saw much action. He was just patrolling the Potomac River. He came back home and then postwar it’s kind of like, “Well, what do we do now?” The steamship era started. He probably started to see, “My days might be numbered as a schooner captain,” then saw these educated kids coming up from Boston camping out in the field and buying dinner from him up at his house and he thought, “Oh, I’ll turn this into a cottage industry.” That’s how the hotel got built. It seemed like everybody moved out of their big house in the summer, rented it out. Lived wherever they could, … you know, that was just one way that you made money, and I think that’s still true around here to a large extent.

Jenn:                We do that.

Sam:                There’s good and bad I think probably that comes with all that.

Jenn:                Yeah. Well, the good is that you get to stay [on the island] and the bad is, well, it’s a pain in the butt.

Sam:                It’s disruptive, but I suppose your kids learn to be adaptable.

Jenn:                [shrugs] What it takes to stay on an island.

Photo courtesy of Sam McGee: “My mother, Marcia Savage, and my Uncle, John Savage on the front steps of the Red House around 1955, just after it was built.”

Jenn:                When you were growing up here, where did you live?

Sam:                I lived in the red house right down the road there apiece that my cousin Tom now lives in. It’s funny, I think about how many people lived there and originally, I think it was a little bit temporary in intention.

Jenn:                The house?

Photo courtesy of Sam McGee: “A picture of the barn in the 1930’s after it was moved from south of Cranberry Lodge, north to where the Red House now is.”

Sam:                Yeah. At one point, where that red house is, there was a huge barn that was there and the barn actually used to sit next to where Cranberry Lodge is, but apparently after the Asticou Inn burned in 1900, my grandfather’s grandfather was so worried that the barn might ever catch on fire that they moved it. The building is huge. I’ve got pictures of it. I can show you. I’ve got a picture here in the other room. This is only half of it.

Jenn:                Oh, wow.

“Left to Right: little girl: Mary “Mame” Savage on her mother’s lap (my great Aunt). I live in what was her house. Emily Nicholson Savage (my great-grandmother), John Chase Savage (my great-grandfather) – the horse he is holding … was named Jill, Richard “Dick” Savage (my maternal grandfather), John Nicholson Savage (great uncle), Samuel Savage (great uncle), hired hand, Harry Merchant. The barn to the left in the picture was moved from South of present day Cranberry Lodge to the northwest in Asticou Way to where my cousin Tom’s house now is.” Photo courtesy of Sam McGee.

Sam:                This is sitting kind of where the red house is now. That’s my grandfather. Those are his two older siblings, these are my great grandparents, and this is my Aunt Mame who owned this house. This picture was probably taken in 1911. When the horse and buggy era declined, and my great grandparents both died late ’30s, early 1940s, my grandfather and his brother and my aunt inherited the barn, and they kind of turned it into a storage garage for the taxi business. … They were school teachers in the winter and they had a chauffeur service in the summer, and in those days, people would come to the hotel and spend the whole summer there, and it was very formal. They’d have these Irish Catholic guys dressed up in black suits that were their chauffeurs, and so my family started giving summer lodging to the chauffeur people in various buildings around the neighborhood, storing the cars, taking care of them, all that, and so at some point, my grandfather got the idea of, “Well, I’m going to tear the barn down and we’re going to build a garage.” So they did, they tore the barn down and they used the leftover parts from the barn and built this really long garage to store all the cars in.

Jenn:                I think I’ve seen pictures of that. Oh, you know, your article, … “They should’ve built the houses on wheels?” I loved that.

Sam:                I talked about it a little bit in there. Then after the Bar Harbor fire, I think one of the places that survived was this mansion called the Stotesbury estate, which sat right where the ferry terminal is now.

Sam:                The Stotesbury Estate was so big that when they tore it down and sold off all the pieces of it, they actually had to have a magazine printed for when people came to bid on all the stuff. My grandfather used to brag that he spent $1,500 building the red house because he built it out of spare parts from the Stotesbury estate – he bought flooring, he bought windows, and the house has these big, really thick doors in it. He dragged my uncles over there and had them tear apart this junk and bring it over here, and they built that red house, and so that was the house my mom grew up in with her brothers, and then later on we moved into it when I was a kid. Now my cousin Tom lives there. I think my grandfather had always intended it to be somewhat temporary in nature – at the time both my grandparents were schoolteachers. They’d go to California in the winter and teach school out there, then drive across country every summer, come back here, and run the taxi business.

Jenn:                That sounds exhausting.

Sam:                It does. I think at a certain point they got tired of it. They did that for five or six years, and I think my grandfather at the time was probably reaching middle age and tired of hauling three kids out to California, teaching, and then coming back, so they originally built the red house as a place to stay in the summer when they ran the taxi business, but then it became their home. Then later on in life, my grandparents built the house down on the shore where Story Litchfield lives now and moved out, and that’s when ultimately we moved into the red house when I was a kid. It’s funny to me to think of this house that I think was sort of done in a very haphazard fashion has seen a lot of families come and go through it. … I get a kick out of it.

Jenn:                Is it kind of like every generation winterizes or puts a foundation under it or something? Like you did with this place?

Sam:                The red house does not have a great foundation under it, but it is winterized. … When we moved into it, my mom did renovate it quite a bit, and my sister used it as a summer rental for quite a while because she doesn’t live up here, and then my cousin Tom bought it from my sister. It is nice that it’s in the family and that there’s kids down the road. I like that.

Jenn:                Was there a neighborhood of people up here or was it all family?

Sam:                Mostly family, at least through my childhood. It’s becoming more and more seasonal as time goes on, this particular little neighborhood back in here, but it was all family at one time. The original property was 105 acres that went roughly down to the Asticou dock [and] all the way up over the hill. Do you know where the cemetery is up on the top of the hill? Well, if you go in the driveway right before Brown Mountain Gatehouse, it’s called Gatehouse Hill Road and you drive straight up, there’s a cemetery at the top of the hill. It’s mostly a community cemetery for people in Mount Desert, but technically it’s still a private cemetery that was created under a deed of trust by my great-great grandparents, and my uncle’s the successor trustee of it right now. Joseph Curtis was the one who laid out the plan for the cemetery. [Ed note: Curtis’ name may sound familiar – he built the terraces and lodge at Thuya Garden and donated the property to the town.] It’s got his name all over it because he was a civil engineer by training and did a lot of public projects down in Boston. … He would have been a rough contemporary with my great-great grandfather. They were both in the Civil War. They probably shared that common history with one another, and he was really, if not the first, then the second summer person to come up here besides the Eliots, and so my family sold land off to the Eliots and to Curtis and built some of the first summer houses for them. That’s another way they supplemented their income was selling off lots that used to be wood lots or whatever. Anyway, so the family property extended all the way up to where that cemetery was. My Uncle Rick still lives next to the cemetery. … When I was a kid, my mom’s younger brother John and his wife Diana lived up the hill from here, and they operated a riding stable.

Jenn:                Seriously? Cool.

Sam:                They taught kids English riding …, and they used to cater to all the summer people. As a kid, what I remember is that they had that operation going on up there. There were always summer people coming back and forth on this road dropping their kids off for riding lessons, and when we were kids, we all learned how to ride horses and kind of had the run of the neighborhood around here because it was still largely mostly in the family. My uncle always liked animals, so in addition to the horses, there were chickens or sometimes they had pigs up there.

Jenn:                It sounds awesome.

Sam:                It was fun. It was a great way to grow up … . A lot of times, you were doing chores to help out, but you got to play all these places. I have a sister who I grew up with and my Uncle John and Diana had two daughters … Melissa’s a year older than I am and was in Jen’s class [Sam’s wife], and my cousin Bethany is two years younger than I am. Those were contemporaries, and then my Uncle Rick had two children who lived next door in the gray house when you turn the corner in here. I have a cousin, Laura, who’s my age, and a cousin, Tom, who lives in the red house now who’s about four years younger than I am. We all grew up as six cousins with an age span apart of eight years maximum, and so we all played together. … Lots of shenanigans over in the Azalea Garden that I probably shouldn’t talk about. It was fun. It was a great, great way to grow up. We were always building forts and ice-skating.

Jenn:                Yeah, I ran with a pack of kids like that too.

Left to right: Tom Savage, Sam McGee, and Laura Savage skating on the pond at the Azalea Garden circa 1982.

Sam:                We used to go fishing over in the pond. It was a little bit less formal than it is now. Subsequent generations, these properties got sold out of the family and I think my cousin Tom and I are in a way the last holdouts…The dynamic of the neighborhood’s changed a little bit. … Then my other neighbors growing up were Charles and Katharine Savage. [Ed.note: Charles Savage designed the original Asticou Azalea Garden and the gardens at Thuya. He and Katharine also ran the Asticou Inn for about 30 years.] I don’t remember Charles as much because died in ’79, but Katharine lived to be 92 or 93 or something … so I knew her pretty well and as a kid growing up, she used to hire me to do chores like mow the lawn or help clean her basement out. I can remember going down there and Charles’ whole shop was set up in the basement where there were some unfinished carvings that he had done and he had a whole photography studio down there. He was a big stamp collector. I have some of his stamps that Katharine gave me over the years and old letters from the hotel and stuff like that.

Jenn:                Oh, cool!

Sam:                As a kid, I was always fascinated by all that stuff and maybe more interested than my contemporaries in it, but it was great, having her. She was a little bit formal as a person, but she and her husband ran that hotel single handedly for decades. Basically from the ’30s until the ’60s. It was pretty much all extended family in the neighborhood up through the ’80s, I would say. Things started getting sold off in the ’90s, some of it as a result of divorces and some of it as a result of demographic shifts and it being less and less affordable and more people buying places to be a summer residence.

Jenn:                Does it feel like a community in the summer when people are in residence? …

Sam:                Yeah, that’s a good question. In some ways, yeah, because the people that bought Katharine and Charles’ house – the house had fallen into decline and I thought somebody’d buy it and tear it down, honestly – but an architect bought it and he saved it – they’ve been great neighbors. … They come up in the spring and they go to North Carolina in the winter, so yeah, to some extent it definitely gets a little bit more active in the summer. … Then there’s of course the whole hotel operation, which seems to still muddle along.

Jenn:                Who should I talk to over there? Who would have the good stories?

Sam:                I don’t know because I think a lot of the people that had long history there have either moved on or died, honestly. It’s kind of this consortium of summer people that are … the shareholders in the hotel, and in recent years, they just hired the Acadia Corp to run the operation. I think Sue Kropf might be one of the people who’s in charge over there. You may want to chat with her a little bit. … I think it’s largely a board of mostly summer people that aren’t super involved with the day to day of it. They may have some history with it, but … it may be that the shareholder of today is a child or a grandchild of a shareholder of yesterday who helped save the hotel … [when it] was struggling financially in the early ’60s. … I think Charles got a little distracted with the projects up at Thuya and Azalea – they were passion projects for him – and even though he had the support of Rockefeller, I know he put a lot of his own time and money into it too. There was also a huge hotel downtown called the Kimball House that the Kimball family owned … . [You should talk to] Alex Kimball, who’s Danny’s son. I think what ended up happening is this corporation formed of summer people that cared about it, plus members of the Kimball family, and they decided, ‘well, we’re going to be able to save the Asticou Inn, but Kimball House has got to go,’ and they tore it down. It was one of these big grand dame hotels just like the Asticou.

Jenn:                That’s so sad.

Sam:                … I think a lot of things changed post-war. How tourism was done changed. People came up by automobile. There was more of the middle class that might come post-Bar-Harbor-fire and stay at a motor hotel, and that was the way that you traveled, right? Even over here, summer people either built their own places or they didn’t stay at the hotel for a month [anymore] like they did a generation before, so a lot of these ancillary services started to fall off. Eventually my grandfather didn’t do the taxi business anymore and didn’t store as many people’s cars and definitely wasn’t housing … chauffeurs wearing black tie, you know? … [The hotel] used to be very formal – Charles didn’t allow alcohol over there.

Jenn:                Really?

Sam:                That would’ve been verboten. … The fact that they serve alcohol over there now, he’d probably be rolling over in his grave about it. …

Another digression, and then we started talking about the path that used to run from the Asticou Landing to Seal Harbor.

Path to Seal Harbor from Asticou Landing, ca.1940-1950. Photo courtesy of Sam McGee.

Sam:                One of the things you might notice when you’re down there is that if you take that sidewalk that goes down to the Asticou dock, the path used to keep going.

Jenn:                Yeah, Rodney was telling me about that.

Sam:                You can see some remnants of it when you’re down there. I’m sure you’ll notice it, but my mom told me … when she was a teenager still that there used to be this series of sidewalks that went all the way to Seal Harbor from here. I think some of them went up across people’s properties and that there were little wooden bridges here and there.

Jenn:                Oh, what fun!

Sam:                They widened the road at some point – I think it was either the late ’50s or early ’60s that that happened – and so a lot of that got wiped out just because there was no room for it, but I think you’re going to see some sort of archeological remnants, if you will, of that path. Especially down by the Thompson’s property and all the way to the dock. That’s worth checking out. I think … you’ll see little pieces of where they fenced it off, kind of like they did up at the terraces. It’s cool to think about the fact that it was a little bit safer to get there than it is now. … Mom told me that when she would babysit for summer kids over at the Seaside Inn that she could ride her bicycle from here to there on the sidewalk.

Jenn:                If only we could still do that.

Sam:                … Apparently over near Harbor Brook, there used to be a campground.

Jenn:                Really?

Sam:                Yeah. As you’re going up the hill, before you get to the parking lot, the upper parking lot for Little Long Pond, some of that property on the left I think was at one point a commercial campground.

Jenn:                You’re kidding.

Sam:                For a very short period of time. Probably in the ’40s and ’50s. You don’t think about [recording] this stuff, and there’s certain periods … when things just aren’t that well documented, you know? Some of it’s overwhelming. There’s plenty of [documentation for some things], but there are other periods where people probably didn’t think it was going to last or it wasn’t that important to document things.

Jenn:                Yeah. You need to write down your childhood memories of growing up here.

Sam:                I plan to at some point, but I’m not quite there yet.

Jenn:                Well, it’d be really neat to see the different generations’ memories of the same place.

Sam:                Yeah, absolutely.

Jenn:                My mom’s an immigrant, and on my father’s side, his father came to this country from Ireland, and [Dad’s] mother was born here, but his grandparents weren’t. We’re all pretty recent, so I’m just fascinated by this history of people who have stayed in one place. …

Sam:                I think that’s more normal for a lot of people than staying in one place. For sure. I often think about it – at some point, some people in my family, in my mom’s family, were immigrants too. As I understand it, the John Savage who first came here and settled at Harbor Brook was a Protestant Scottish immigrant. I think in his lifetime, the choice was, “I can either basically stay an indentured servant or I can, as a 14 year old, jump on this boat and go to America and take my chances,” … Things must have been pretty extreme for you to [take that risk] … Or you must have thought that the opportunity was so great that even at that young age, you decided, ‘I’m out of here.’ Right?

Jenn:                Yeah, my grandfather came over at 18 for the same reason. …

Sam:                I think that my great-grandmother, who married into the Savage family on my mom’s side, she was a first generation American, an Irish immigrant in Philadelphia who came up here and worked for their summer lady who stayed at the hotel, and that’s how she met my great-grandfather.

Jenn:                Oh, that’s so romantic!

Sam:                Yeah, so a lot of these people were imports of one kind or another.

Jenn:                Well, you need us for the gene pool, right?

Sam:                Right. Somehow, I’m related through marriage to Dan Falt. There’s this whole line of Falts who are really from Nova Scotia that came down here and worked. They were immigrants that worked at the hotel, and some of them ended up staying and marrying into the family. …

Jenn:                I just hope our kids can manage to stay.

Sam:                Yeah, that’s what I think about a lot. I hope if it was something that they wanted to do, that it could be an option for them. …

Jenn:                Yeah. I think they need to go away first.

Sam:                Oh, yeah.

Jenn:                Then come back.

Sam:                I think that’s a really good thing to do. I did it. I was gone for a while, and I think it’s a great way to get some perspective on things.

Jenn:                Yeah. That’s what Brian did. He went away, found a wife, brought me back.

Sam:                Yeah, I joke [about that] with some of my island friends that I grew up with . My friend Chris Dorr, who grew up in Bar Harbor, he’s like, “Yeah, the pull of the mothership is pretty strong.” He’s so right about that.

Jenn:                We were fine traveling around for years and then it was like, “We should probably have kids sometime soon,” and bam, back on the island.

Sam:                You know, that can definitely be a driving force. I know for us, we would come up here in the summers and at the time we were renting this place out just to pay for it, and at one point you’re like, “Wow. Seems like the school system’s great.” … We thought that it’d be a really cool place for the kids to grow up and experience something a little different.

Jenn:                It is an awesome place to be a kid. It’s also, I have to say, a good place to be a parent. There’s a really strong community. …

Sam:                Yeah, definitely.

Sam:                I’m a little bit of a map collector … You’ve probably seen this map before, but I love this one.

Jenn:                Oh, is this the 1807?

Sam:                Yeah, it’s a copy of the Peters map.

Jenn:                Oh, fantastic. I’ve only seen tiny reproductions of it. …

Sam:                This is that French line that they talk about that divides the title to the eastern side of the island separate from the western side.

Jenn:                Yeah, this is all De Gregoire, right? [Ed.note: Louis XIV granted ownership of MDI to Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac, an officer of his army, in 1688. In 1787, the newly-formed USA confirmed the grant to his granddaughter, Marie Therese de la Mothe Cadillac de Gregoire. Her name survives in a Hulls Cove neighborhood and street, where it is usually spelled DeGregoire or Degregoire.]

Sam:                Yeah, you would’ve had to get your title from de Gregoire ultimately if you were over here.

Jenn:                Well, I thought, wasn’t this English down here? No?

Sam:                No. What happened I think is that de Gregoires had it, and at first, you might have gotten your lot from them and the Manchester side of the family. The deeds go right from the de Gregoires to them, the early ones, but the later settlers, there was this rich guy named William Bingham that bought out all of the de Gregoire.

Jenn:                That’s who I’m thinking of.

Sam:                Once you needed clear title, you had to go buy your deed from Bingham’s estate. It took me forever to find the deed to this property. … I searched the Hancock County registry. I had a file here at the house that my mom had, and I could get the chain of title back to just before 1900 … I’ve been told informally that it was around 1818 that the second generation of Savage and his brother-in-law, William Roberts, who came from Seal Harbor, bought this property … . The problem was that they had the deed, but they didn’t record it for another 20 years.

Jenn:                Oh gosh.

Sam:                It was like hunting for a needle in a haystack. I finally found it – those early deeds are handwritten, so they’re not indexed very well. It’s not like you could ‘control-find’ a person’s name because it’s done in penmanship.

Jenn:                Where did you finally find it?

Sam:                There’s some guy that did a website where he researched all these lots and found the deeds [http://mdihistory.org/historical-resources/cultural-history-project/deeds/]  …, and he did all the Salem lots over in Southwest, plus a lot of the stuff on here, and I finally found it [there.] It just didn’t get recorded until the 1840s.

Jenn:    Wow. It’s so cool going back through the original documents. … My favorite map on the whole island is that enormous hand-drawn one in the basement of the library. … I can stare at that for hours because it has so many personal notations on it.

Sam:                Yeah, that’s great. … Sometimes I use these to help me figure out timelines if I’m reading something.

Jenn:                Yes! Because so many things that you read, they’re like, “We were near so-and-so’s property,” or “This was located just above so-and-so’s house,” and you’re like, “Okay, so we’re in 1872, which means the so-and-sos lived there” [and you get your bearings.] …

Sam:                … My second cousin, … Charles’ son, Ken, just passed away, but Ken had this original oil painting in his house, and so to give you an idea, this is where the hotel is now. That’s Cranberry Lodge, and this is my house when it was attached to Cranberry.

Jenn:                Oh my goodness.

Sam:                This was done from memory by a son-in-law who was a doctor down in Portland, but you can see how denuded the hillside was back then.

Jenn:                Yeah. It’s not even recognizable [as] the same place. …

Sam:                I am trying to digitize a lot of this stuff before it gets lost, but I’ve got a file cabinet down in the basement. It’s just full of stuff. I even have my aunt’s slides who lived here. I haven’t even gotten there yet.

We poked around in Sam’s collection of photos but it was time for me to go, so we agreed that I would have to come back and we’d spend some time going through his archives. I think we could have talked local history for hours.

Jenn:                Well, thank you so much for taking all this time to talk with me!

________________________________________________________

 

WORKS CITED

Baldwin, Letitia. Asticou Azalea Garden. Mount Desert Land & Garden Preserve, 2008.

Baldwin, Letitia. Thuya Garden: Asticou Terraces & Thuya Lodge. Mount Desert Land & Garden Preserve, 2008.

Brown, Margaret and Vekasi, Jim. Pathmakers: Cultural Landscape Report for the Historic Hiking Trail System of Mount Desert Island. Olmsted Center for Landscape Preservation/National Park Service, Boston, 2006.   [Full text available here: https://archive.org/details/pathmakerscultur00brow]

Bryan, John M. Maine Cottages – Fred L. Savage and the Architecture of Mount Desert. Princeton Architectural Press, 2005.

Champlain Society Camp Asticou Log, Northeast Harbor, 1882. Handwritten MS in the collection of the MDI Historical Society.  Scan and transcription here: https://www.mainememory.net/artifact/100479

Champlain Society camp log, Northeast Harbor, 1884. Handwritten MS in the collection of the MDI Historical Society.  Scan and transcription here: https://www.mainememory.net/artifact/100918

“Historical records: early island ownership,” Bar Harbor Times, April 1917, republished on the Bar Harbor Times website, April 16, 2017. Accessed January 24, 2018. https://www.mdislander.com/maine-news/historical-records-early-island-ownership

“La Mothe – Marie Therese (La Mothe) Cadillac de Gregoire (1733 – 1811),” Southwest Harbor Public Library Digital Archive, accessed January 24, 2018, http://swhplibrary.net/digitalarchive/items/show/10536. Item 14491

McGee, Samuel Savage. “The Savage Family of Mount Desert,” Mount Desert Island: Shaped by Nature. Maine Memory Network, no date. Date accessed: January 24, 2018. http://mdi.mainememory.net/page/3806/display.html

McGee, Samuel Savage. “They Should Have Constructed Their Buildings on Wheels,” Mount Desert Island: Shaped by Nature. Maine Memory Network, April 2013. Date accessed: October 9, 2017. http://mdi.mainememory.net/page/3806/display.html

Phillips, Cora Savage. Early History and and Personal Recollections of Northeast Harbor. Undated typewritten manuscript. Location of original unknown; scanned pdf provided by Sam McGee.

Reynolds, Emily Phillips. Recollections of Grandfather and Grandmother and their Family. Typewritten manuscript, 1982. Location of original unknown; scanned pdf provided by Sam McGee.

Reynolds, Emily Phillips, Down Memory Lane. Bacon Printing Company, Bangor, Maine, 1966.

Savage, A.C. Memories of a Lifetime. Undated typewritten manuscript. Location of original unknown; scanned pdf provided by Sam McGee. Published in  Chebacco 2017.

Savage, Charles K. Asticou Terraces Trust: Report of the Trustee 1937-1965. Typewritten manuscript with tipped-in watercolor illustrations and photographs, 1966. Original in the Northeast Harbor Public Library.

Tracy, Charles. The Tracy Log Book, 1855. Bar Harbor, Acadia Publishing Company, 1997. [Full text available here]

 

 

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Addenda – Dr. Kittredge

The most recent issue of the Southwest Harbor Historical Society showed up in my inbox last week and answered some of the questions I’d raised after my interview with Douglas McMullin at Maine Coast Heritage Trust last fall about the brook’s name. I’d found several names for the tidal creek running through the preserve there, and wondered where they came from. The earliest maps label it “Doctor’s Creek,” followed by “Kittredge Brook.” MCHT calls it “Babson Creek,” although I haven’t found that on a map yet. Many thanks to the SWHS for clearing up two of the names. Dr. Kendall Kittredge, who arrived in 1799 with his wife, Sally Whiting, was the first doctor on the island.

 

from “Dr. Kendall Kittredge,” The Sou’West Voyage, February 2018.

I also wondered about the spelling of “Kittredge,” which has a lot of variants here on the island. I found this genealogy in a family Bible, which confirms the spelling:

 

WORKS CITED

unattributed, “Dr. Kendall Kittredge,” The Sou’West Voyage, Southwest Harbor Historical Society, February 2018.

“Early Years on Mt. Desert Island,” Maine Memory Network, http://mdi.mainememory.net/page/207/display.html

 

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Coast Walk 19 Still Life: Asticou Stream, January 25, 2018

Coast Walk 19: Asticou Stream, January 25, 2018

Top to bottom, left to right:

Row 1: Foliose lichen (possibly Tuckermannopsis sp.), sea glass, Rockweed (Ascophyllum nodosum), Common Periwinkle (Littorina littorea), broken bottle neck (not sea glass)

Row 2: Common Periwinkles, Paper Birch bark (Betula papyrifera), slightly weathered bit of broken glass, periwinkle

Row 3: Common Periwinkles, broken glass, acorn (Quercus sp.), tampon applicator, Blue Mussel (Mytilus edulis)

Row 4: Common Periwinkles, bird leg bone, periwinkles

Row 5: Rockweed

Row 6: Common Periwinkle, Soft-shell Clam (Mya arenaria), periwinkles

Much as I’ve been enjoying the interviews, I miss being out on the shore, so I went back to the mouth of Asticou Stream last week.

There are definite challenges to winter beachcombing – things are frozen to the ground:

But the mud flats are still semi-liquid:

On the other hand, ice is fun to photograph.

And this poor guy seemed to have frozen to death. Anyone know what it is? It was a little longer than my finger.

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Interview: Darron Collins at the College of the Atlantic

On October 20, 2017, Darron Collins, President of the College of the Atlantic, and I walked down to the college dock. It was 68ºF, sunny and cloudless – a perfect fall day – so we sat out on the floats and watched the boat traffic in the bay.

Darron:           Nice out, huh?

Jenn:               It’s gorgeous. It feels more like September than October.

Darron:           I’ve been looking forward to this discussion all day because I knew it would mean I could get outside and go for a walk.

Jenn:               That’s the good thing about hanging out with me! … So you graduated from here, didn’t you?

Darron:           Yes, 1992.

Jenn:               Wow. How is it coming back as a grownup?

Darron:           It’s great coming back. It’s progressed so much since I was here. I got here in 1988, it was five years after the fire burned the main building to the ground, so we were really just beginning to claw our way back into some kind of stability. … So how do we do this?

Jenn:               Well, I make it up as I go along. I don’t really have a formula.  … You said you want to talk about cruise ships?

Darron:           I do, but only because this beach and this cove is so crucial not just to my own personal experience but to so many COA students. One thing that’s definitely on my mind is how this stretch of land would be impacted if there were two 3000-person cruise ships, two 18-story floating buildings sitting right there [Ed.note: at the old ferry terminal.] … I think it becomes monstrous and difficult for me to imagine attracting students. … I’m not turning my nose up at cruise ship tourism. I think that that’s part of the economic mix of this town. I get that, … but I think we’re coming up to the point where the volume of tourists, both terrestrial and those that arrive from cruise ships are starting to have a negative impact on the overall user experience. Certainly the experience of those of us who live here year-round, students or otherwise.

I’m going to interrupt here and give you some background. Let’s start with the map. Darron and I are sitting at the red ‘x,’ at the end of COA’s dock. The town of Bar Harbor is trying to decide whether to buy the old ferry terminal (at left) back from the Canadian government and if they buy it, what to do with it. The consultants hired by the town recommended rebuilding the dock and berthing cruise ships there. Right now, cruise ships anchor in the bay and send their passengers in via tenders (small boats.) A typical ship among the current visitors would be the Maasdam, which I think has 10 passenger decks, so is about the height of a 10-story building, and is 722′ long, which is roughly 2 football fields, or 1.25 city blocks. Some ships are smaller. I think the largest one coming in 2018 is Adventure of the Seas, which is 15 decks tall by by maybe 3 football fields long. There are much larger cruise ships. Note that the tallest building in town is 5 stories, and most of the village is 2 to 3 stories. The proposal to park 2 ships potentially the size of 18-story buildings at the old pier raised what can only be described as a sh-tstorm of massive proportions among the town voters, with opinions ranging from ‘take all the cruise ships and make tons of money,’ to ‘some cruise ships are ok but not at the dock,’ to ‘ban all cruise ships.’ The issue was mixed in with broader questions about traffic and crowding on the island. Eventually, the town formed 4 committees to look at 4 different ways of using the ferry property, and at the time of this interview, the committees were still gathering info and drafting plans, and the citizenry were arguing bitterly on Facebook, at the hardware store, in cafes, and in line at the grocery store. The committees filed their report in November 2017. It is available online here: https://www.barharbormaine.gov/DocumentCenter/View/2499. Most people seem to approve of the report’s recommendations, but the issue is ongoing.

Looking toward the old ferry terminal pier. I’m going to guess the top of that building sticking up on the pier might be 4 or 5 stories above sea level.

Darron: Anyway, this cove is just so key. We are the College of the Atlantic, so this is our front door. From the experience of … the Bar Island Swim to our docking of Osprey – that’s our boat there, which allows us to get out to Mount Desert Rock … – to the work on Great Duck Island. So many colleges have their ‘quad.’ This is kind of the College of the Atlantic’s ‘quad.’ It’s not precious, [except] in the sense that it’s very meaningful … . I have such fond memories of the floats, the pier, that beach, and for so many people that have come through the College of the Atlantic, this is like the geographic epicenter for them. …

Jenn:               Well, it’s what I think of when I think of COA.

Darron:           Right? Yeah, that’s really different. Most colleges, even if they’re on the coast, they have a kind of terrestrial front door, and I think our front door is an oceanic or marine front door. It’s very unique, and … it defines who we are as an institution. That’s why it’s important.

Jenn:               What do you want to see happen over there?

Darron:           I would really like that to be a public marina and a [place] where the public of Bar Harbor can have the same kind of exposure to the marine environment as our students have from the campus. I think as a center for local ferries, … even a Portland ferry. I would love to have better connection to Portland. I don’t know if that’s at all economically feasible. … For low-impact tourism around boating and kayaking, for local people to have access to Frenchman Bay for moorings.

Jenn:               I’ve heard some people talk about having kayak storage there where you could rent basically a locker.

Darron:           Yep. I would love to see a dock, but it’ll have to have a revenue-generating mechanism. All those things have a small one, but I would love to have a whale and island museum there.

Jenn:               That would be cool.

Darron:           That’s been part of the College of the Atlantic – we used to have the Whale Museum on West Street, and I would love to have that again here. That would be important to the college, but we would be putting money into that, renting space in one way or the other. I could see it having a working waterfront component. I know there are fishermen who aren’t going to move from [the Town Pier] but there might be other lobstermen who would want to use a pier that’s not in downtown so they could move their product. I would love to see Parsons have a fish [shop] … The college is going to start exploring possibilities for aquaculture, so have some kind of center for aquaculture there. I think over the next 20 and 30 years, people who depend on the lobster industry are going to begin to diversify their economic portfolio.

Jenn:               The smart ones.

Darron:           Yeah. I would love to see that be a resource for people trying to do that. I think there’s also great potential there for parking, potentially figuring more into a transportation plan that needs to happen, that needs to relieve some of the pressure that we receive from land-based tourists. Some kind of a transportation hub of one sort or the other to mitigate some of the congestion. I think a marina is the best way that all of those things might be able to happen at once, and the work that Anna has done, …

Jenn:               Anna Durand?

Darron:           Anna Durand has been really exciting to see. That group has put a lot of really good, solid thought in it. [Ed. note: Anna Durand led a committee researching the installation of a dock for cruise ship tenders (but not the ships) along with multi-use public facilities.]

Jenn:               I’ll tell you flat out, I think the town should just buy the damn property outright and take like five years of citizen workshops, figure it out, get everyone on board. Do it properly. I’m so tired [of it] – you can’t go on Facebook anymore without people like, bicker, bicker, bicker.

Darron:           Yep. I think so too. I would love it to remain in the public domain in one way or the other. Obviously I don’t want to see taxes go up because of whatever happens or because of whatever bond, … whatever financing [we use] to buy it, but I don’t want to see anything that has the ability to potentially drive … the doubling of the number of cruise ship passengers that need to come here because we need [to pay for it] …

Jenn:               I don’t think that was, at least in what I’ve read – I thought the cruise ship passenger cap stayed the same?

Darron:           The passenger cap would stay the same, but I’m on the committee, one of the four committees in town.

Jenn:               Oh you are? Awesome! Which one are you on?

Darron:           I’m on the berthing committee, which is antithetical to what I believe should happen, but I’m participating in the process anyway. We’ve been instructed to imagine a situation where we’re going to need to take on a debt of 40 million dollars or so to build out the pier that would allow cruise ships of 2, 3, 4000 passengers to dock there, and it wouldn’t necessarily mean increasing the daily passenger cap, but it would definitely require increasing both the fee and the annual number of passengers, which would be expanding the season, because in order to pay for a 40 million dollar procedure, a 40 thousand dollar plan, we would need to increase the total number of people that we ran through the town via cruise ships. That’s worrisome.

Jenn:               Yeah. That’s the first I’ve heard of increasing the numbers. I haven’t really made up my mind. I’m still listening to what everybody has to say. I’m definitely not anti-cruise ship. I think it’s like a bus, it’s a way to get people around in a more efficient way than everybody coming in their own cars, but there’s a limit to how much the town can handle.

Darron:           I think so. I actually think that cruise ship tourism is problematic for what we’re trying to do here. I’ve been on a cruise ship before. I worry about creating the Disneyland version of Bar Harbor instead of an authentic Bar Harbor, and I think cruise ships do tend to encourage that kind of tourism. Very short term, get off the boat. I think the fundamental property of what makes Mount Desert Island spectacular requires people to spend more time here. That said, I still think there’s room. I’m not approaching it as a snooty, “I’m above cruise ship tourists somehow,” but I think we need to be really careful about it. This status quo, I could live [with.] I’m also wearing the hat of the president of the college, so I’m really worried about the proximity. In one sense I am a landowner that has very serious concerns about how two cruise ships there would negatively affect my business in the same way that if I owned the Atlantic Oceanside, I might worry … Maybe it wouldn’t change at all, but I think there’s the risk.

Jenn:               A 10-story building there would definitely change things.

Darron:           Yeah. Some people might argue, “The aesthetic thing, that will go away … You’ll get used to it.” You will, but how much longer do we want to just get used to things? … We [don’t] need to maintain Bar Harbor as a museum specimen, nor do we need to revert to the ‘good old [days]’ …

Jenn:               … You know, I don’t mind the cruise ships out in the bay like that. I certainly don’t want more.

Darron:           I wouldn’t want more, and I … also know that people avoid coming here, terrestrial-based passengers avoid coming here, when they know cruise ships are in town. There’s a problem with traffic too, I know. In many ways it’s a more efficient way to deliver people here, but I also think it’s a very limiting way to come to know a place. …

Jenn:               But still, what’s the alternative, to just do land-based [tourism]? Or to say that you can only come for a certain length of time?

Darron:           I think maintaining the kind of diverse experiences that we have. Maybe re-thinking the kind of cruise ships that we want to cater to. There’s part of the industry that is going toward building larger and larger ships … . There are ships in production now that won’t be ready until 2018 but that will house 5000 passengers. … There’s the second path that is the more boutique cruise ships that are catering toward people that want more adventurous [vacations], spend longer times at port and cater to clientele that have more financial resources and that might be willing to spend more locally. Again, that sounds kind of classist, and again I don’t think it’s a question of one or the other, but I believe that if we continue to cater toward larger and larger ships, that has a negative impact on both the terrestrial visitor and the smaller cruising class that is also developing. … What I hate to hear, and it’s been pervasive in Bar Harbor is, “Oh my god, the cruise ships are going to leave Bar Harbor altogether if we don’t bend to their [will.]”

Jenn:               I don’t think so.

Darron:           I really don’t believe that. I really think that this experience in terms of the northeastern Atlantic has no rival. We should be in control, and we should set the boundaries.

Jenn:               I do think we can set our terms a little more than some people seem to think.

Darron:           Yeah. Actually I think that meme is kind of evolving. I think that is understood more. … So I feel good about that. Actually I think in 2012 when we had … the consultants, I think the way we engaged with them early on set us off on a very negative trajectory. They published a graph that showed five different lines, and one of them was labeled as ‘target.’ The target line of annual cruise ship visitors went like that [hand gesture showing the graph skyrocketing], and they said, “We’re recommending a large berthing pier to be able to cater to increasingly large cruise ships. In order to pay for that, this is the kind of trajectory that the town of Bar Harbor is going to require.” That really stuck in a lot of people’s craw. As it should have. I think that set a tone, and whether it’s true, or the truth has evolved or not, it really set the tone and scared a lot of people.

Jenn:               My question when I saw that was, “Who commissioned this and what question did they ask that this was the answer?”

Darron:           Yeah, exactly.

Jenn:               Because the consultants don’t have some mythical ideal. They’re answering the question they were asked. …

The conversation wandered to my project, the high school football game scheduled for that evening, and back around to the COA shoreline

Darron:           There’s a trail system in the woods that is not [marked] … You wouldn’t know it’s there. You can see there’s forts in the woods here. See that? …

Jenn:               Oh cool, I hadn’t seen that!

Darron:           Yeah, there’s a fort there. … On this ridge is the north lawn, and the college is in the initial stages of designing a new building. Actually not even designing because we don’t have the architect yet.

Jenn:               Programming?

Darron:           We’re doing the building program for the new building. It’s going to be the new academic core for the college. One of the preferred locations is on that ridge. We’re thinking about the view of the college from the water, and from the college to the water, but we definitely want the ocean to feature prominently in the construction of the new building. That’s kind of exciting. That will change the way that landscape looks.

Jenn:               Yeah. A lot.

Darron:           Another interesting conundrum we have is people always say …, “Why don’t you cut the trees? … Why don’t you increase the visibility of the ocean from the campus?” Trustees say this a lot. What I think we’re involved in [now is deciding] what the right balance looks like. We would like to prune some of the vegetation along our coast to increase the visibility, but doing so is really expensive and highly regulated, as you might know.

Jenn:               Tell me about it. My first reaction when you said you wanted to cut the trees, I’m like, “Well, one, erosion, and two, the DEP. Two big problems.”

Darron:           We’ve started to do that kind of mapping and planning along our ocean front.

Jenn:               Good.

Darron:           But really, there’s limited, as there should be, there’s limited flexibility in what you can do. What you can cut, and what you can’t cut. Even invasive Norway maples are bulwarks against erosion, so are weedy poplars …

Jenn:               But you can take them out and plant natives.

Darron:           Yeah. But that’s expensive.

Jenn:               True.

Darron:           The whole process of working with the silviculture expert, it’s expensive, but it’s important. We’re always balancing things, we don’t have unlimited finances, so putting money in that is theoretically taking away scholarship money. But are you improving the experience? We’re always doing cost-benefit analysis for different projects. The visual access to the ocean is one of the most amazing things for being a student at COA. … My first year I was in Ryles, which is Deering Common.

Jenn:               Oh okay.

Darron:           And Deering Common used to have a servants’ quarters built off of it, and Mrs. Ryles, we couldn’t go in her proper house, but she let the college use the servants’ quarters as student housing. That was my freshman dorm. I remember, I didn’t have an ocean view. Other students who lived in Seafox do have an ocean view, but I could smell the water, especially in the fall that slightly sulfuric …

Jenn:               That iodine.

Darron:           Iodine.

Jenn:               Yeah. But you’ve got [that] classic relationship where the trees are thinned enough that you catch glimpses of the water, but you don’t have any open panorama views.

Darron:           Which is good.

Jenn:               It’s what I like.

Darron:           When David Rockefeller, when we had his memorial service here, David McDonald, the head of Friends of Acadia had a beautiful, beautiful vignette of taking people by boat around Ringing Point, and he would say, “That’s Ringing Point, that’s where David Rockefeller senior lives.” And people would say, “Where?” The fact that you can’t really see the house, that’s the perfect balance. You get the measured vistas of the water, but it doesn’t become glaring.

Cormorant on one of the floats nearby.

Darron:           The other thing that I love [is] Bar Island. … When the first cohort of students came to COA in the fall of 1972, there were 36 of them, but people don’t know that in the summer of 1971, we actually tested a pilot program. We didn’t have anything, we didn’t have faculty, we … had the old building that burned down, but we didn’t have staff beyond Ed Kaelber and Anne Peach and Millard Dorrity – but in that summer we did this pilot, a human ecology summer pilot program, the question was something along the lines of “What might the future of Bar Island look like?” They would have daily excursions over to the island. Every time I walk across the Bar, and I go a lot, I still feel like I’m either one of those students for the first time walking over there, or like the first human being to come to the island. Even though in the summer it’s packed with people walking over there, there’s something magical about the fact that that island becomes accessible and inaccessible, accessible and inaccessible twice a day.

Jenn:               And you can walk on the bottom of the sea to get there.

Darron:           Yeah, so I really love that this [gesturing to the dock and the campus] becomes a platform for looking at that island. … Was that useful?

Jenn:               Yes. I knew you’d have good stories!

We were heading back up the path toward Darron’s office when I spotted someone on the COA beach – you remember Kelley Sanborn, right? From Coast Walk 9? That’s her daughter, Tessa.

 

Kelley:            Hi! …   Do you have a minute to see something?

Jenn:               Sure. Let me just say goodbye to Darron. I’ll be down.

Darron:           Thanks. I’ll see you tonight. [At the high school football game.]

Jenn:               Thank you so much. Yeah. I’ll see you tonight.

This is what Kelley and Tessa wanted to show me – they’d been making rock people! Love the seaweed hair, Tessa.

 

WORKS CITED

Bar Harbor Ferry Terminal Property Advisory Committee, Report to the Bar Harbor Town Council, Nov.14, 2017. Available as a pdf online.

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Interview: Jane Disney at the MDI Biological Laboratory (Star Point)

Dr. Jane Disney is the Director of Education for the MDI Biological Laboratory. On October 18, 2017, we walked down to Star Point at the Bio Lab for a chat. It was 66°F, sunny and brisk with a strong wind gusting out of somewhere northwest-ish. I’ve known Jane for a few years through the Frenchman Bay Partners, a coalition of people working in and around the bay, and back when I first dreamed up the Coast Walk, she was one of the people who helped me think it through and encouraged me to make it real. She mentors a lot of people that way, officially and unofficially, and I was looking forward to catching up with her.

That’s Star Point in the background – from certain angles the hole is star-shaped. The wind was to strong to sit out on the dock.

Jenn:          So what are you working on these days? …

Jane:          The Anecdata project has really been expanding. [Ed. note: Anecdata.org is a citizen science website designed and run by Jane’s department.] … We were invited by the Margaret Chase Smith Policy Center to submit an article to the Maine Policy Review [that was] an audit of all of the projects in Anecdata. We contacted different project leaders to find out how their projects were progressing, if they felt they were meeting their goals. We got so many interesting stories from people. … There’s a woman named Gail McCullough who used to work with Frenchman Bay Conservancy. …  All her adult years she’s been tracking seals, so she had a lot of data in journals that she wanted to make publicly available. She has been meticulously going through and integrating that data into Anecdata.

At the beginning of her project she had all hand-drawn sketches of seals, because she started in the 1980s, then as time went by she got a digital camera. … It’s serving as an archive of historical data on seals, which is really wonderful. … Seal populations were quite depleted. After the Marine Mammal Protection Act went in [Ed.note: in 1972], they started to recover, and then Gail got interested in tracking that recovery. She looked at seals that were on exposed ledges at low tide, and [others] that seemed to be returning to rock outcroppings that were out of the water at high tide, so she had these low tide and high tide location users. The same ones came back to the same places year after year. … She’s been a citizen scientist, in essence, all these years, collecting this data by herself.

Image from Disney et al., “Next Generation Citizen Science”

[Massachusetts Audubon] was tracking meadowlarks.  When I contacted them and said, “How’s it going?” they sent me these amazing maps that they had made for reporting out to their project participants. [They used the] presence/absence data [function that] is why we made Anecdata to begin with. We wanted to show where eelgrass was and wasn’t, and on most websites that were available for citizen science data, you could only put in what was present, but there was no way to indicate missing information. [Mass Audubon] had a present/absent [question], so you ‘did or not’ see meadowlarks when you went in these areas. Then you could see how many areas where you couldn’t see them, versus areas where you could. Then they’re tracking over time how that map is going to change. … We wrote about this because it gave us a better understanding of how people were using that site.

Two projects that have come to our site are what are called King Tides projects. I don’t know if we’ve talked about that.

Jenn:          Yeah, the really high tides. [Ed. note: King tides is a colloquial term for the unusually high tides that result when the Earth, Moon, and Sun align at the closest points of their orbits. It can also refer to any unusually high tide. Tracking king tides is a way of measuring sea level rise.]

Jane:          They happen twice a year, but then we sometimes have [sea level] higher than King Tides that will happen with a storm surge or something like that. We’ve been doing a little investigation as to how many King Tides [data-collecting] sites there really are around the nation. Not all of them call themselves King Tides. There’s a project out of Miami called Eyes on the Rise. We’ve been interested in what kind of platform these different projects are using, and what the outcomes are for some of these. We’re thinking of adding features to Anecdata that make our two projects more able to accomplish the kind of goals they’ve laid out for themselves. We have the Gulf of Maine King Tides, and we have Washington State King Tides on there. We’re in the process right now of submitting a big NSF grant [National Science Foundation] that’s due in one and a half weeks, and we’re collaborating with the University of Maine on that proposal, [with] environmental communications people who are going to do some … research around why these participants are involved, how their data are being used, whether or not they’re achieving outcomes.

Then we’re going to be adding some new communication and specific-action tools to the Anecdata site and see how that shifts our projects relative to other projects. We’re trying to get a handle on more from the research end: what are ‘best practices’ with citizen science, and how do we know whether or not people are getting out of it what they want to, and whether or not the projects are achieving the goals that they’re hoping to. I think that there’s a lot of data collection that goes on without it getting us where we want to go. Part of that project would be doing some interviews with sites. We’ve picked three – one in South Carolina, one in California, one down in Miami – we’ve been learning from them that even with all the data that they have and with all of the processes that they have in place to share data with coastal planners and municipal leaders, that still there’s overdevelopment continuing to happen at low-lying areas. Flooding continues to be a problem.

These problems aren’t being solved just because you have identified the problem and collected information that should be guiding your decision-making. We’re interested in the role that citizens could play in pushing those agendas. The citizens have collected the data, they know, they can see.  …

Jenn:          What do you mean by a civic action component?

Jane:          We’re asking ourselves that question, “What does it mean to be involved?” … We’re calling the grant ‘Data to Action.’ We’ve delineated levels of next steps that people can take: writing letters to the editor, writing an opinion piece, showing up at a planning board meeting, talking to legislators, trying to organize a public hearing …, voting. … People sometimes don’t think about, “I’ve been involved in this project and I’ve learned this,” and then asking that question, “The people I’m voting for, how do they stand on these things that I’ve been working on?” In Maine we have this wonderful League of Women Voters.

Jenn:          There’s also the Conservation Voters.

Jane:          Both of them will give you information on how your legislators are doing. It’s sometimes surprising. To me what’s surprising is how divided everything is. You can almost – all the Republicans will vote one way, all the Democrats another. On some key environmental issues, you’ll find that, like Brian Langley for example, 50% of the time will vote the way Democrats will. He’s one of those Republicans who I think is really looking at the issue and thinking about what’s best for the district. I like him.

Jenn:          Good.

Jane:          I have to be honest with you, I have the same bias everyone else does, and if I wasn’t looking at his record, I might just put him in that category with everybody else and say I don’t like him. I think that … recognizing that we can look for these things, they do exist. We’re going to be creating what we call Toolkit on the site, a civic action toolkit that’s going to give a lot of links, and we’re going to try to figure out how to create some place-based links, too, that get people to local news outlets based on their [location] – when you log into the system, it can geo-locate you and knows that you’re in North Carolina and can get you to legislative contacts and  your local newspapers and that kind of thing.

Then one of the most important tools we’re putting in the Toolkit is a civic action tracker. It’s kind of like what people do with their health or Fitbits or anything else, but it’s a place that you can keep track of your actions, and then track outcomes as well, so that way we can have an idea for a particular project based on website analytics – once we put this tool in place [we’ll know] how many people have written letters.

Jenn:          That’s really cool.

Jane:          We think it’s feedback for the individual, like, ‘look at all I’ve done’. … I think that that self-tracking will be an incentive for people to take action. Also there’s going to be a way for them to communicate with other people involved in their local project … – they could actually upload the letter to the editor that they wrote. …

Jenn:          Oh excellent, so you’ve got a complete record.

Jane:          Right, and … other people can respond to it. It’s kind of like Facebook in that way. People can say, “I like this.”

Jenn:          Or they can use it as a template for their own.

Jane:          Or they can say, “This is a great idea, do you mind if I use some of your ideas?” That’s the communication piece. We have a forum in there, and I think that we’re going to push [information] out of the tracker into the forum … so you don’t have to enter it in two places. … People can just engage in regular conversation. We’re trying to build community around these groups because that’s another thing I’ve noticed with some of these citizen science projects is that people log in and enter their data … but then unless the project manager is communicating with them, there’s no real conduit for them to be talking to [other participants.] … On our site, we’ve now put in the capacity, once someone’s uploaded a photo, for someone else to say, … “Can you give me directions to this site,” or, “Oh I never thought to look at boat ramps.” … We’re just trying to imagine how people would use these tools.

Then after we implement them, the research team at U Maine is going to have three points of interview where we get feedback from people … so that we have a better understanding of how it is working for them now, what are their motivations. It’s not even always clear – the project goals might not be the personal goals of people, and I think it’s going to be powerful for project managers to know – [maybe] they think the goal is to get some ordinance in place, but all of these people really want something else. [The managers] could be aiming way outside of [the people’s goals], and that’s okay, they can aim out there, but they can aim where it’s meaningful for people too. …

I just got an email from a guy in Otter Creek, there’s a bunch of people worked up in Otter Creek. … All of them keep asking me the same question – something is bothering them out there. They feel like their habitat is gone, or things are missing. They keep saying that the cove is toxic, but I reached out to the Department of Maine Resources, and they certainly have some good data out there. [The DMR have] heard these things and responded and done some monitoring, but … the water is clean, there’s no bacteria, they’re not finding anything. … I’m not really sure what it is that’s missing for them. … I sent him to Anecdata, and I said, “We don’t have the capacity right now to set up some sort of study of habitats in the Otter Cove area. But if you are interested in doing that, then this site could support your data management, data sharing, you can upload photos there, we can help you get set up with that.” … I told him he should go to the Marine Resources Committee in Bar Harbor because they certainly initiate clam flat surveys, they’ve done some clam seeding work, they work with College of the Atlantic. Chris Peterson, … is doing some mussel census work. DMR is getting ready to track mussels more closely. … We get calls like that in the Community Lab. [Ed. note: Community Lab is a citizen science program at the Bio Lab.]

We spent the summer doing the same thing we’ve done for many, many years. [Ed.note: water quality monitoring.] We help the Maine Healthy Beaches, we did all the beach monitoring for Acadia National Park and for Bar Harbor and Mount Desert this summer.

Jenn:          This is what you’re doing in your lab?

Jane:          In the lab. So that’s been going on for decades. Every summer we do all the beaches – bacteria monitoring. Then we’re part of Maine Healthy Beaches, we upload the data, we can send out alerts, we can get the beach managers to post advisories. [Ed. note: Healthy Beaches is a partnership between UMaine Cooperative Extension/Sea Grant, the Maine DEP, and local municipalities that monitors water quality at public beaches and issues advisories if, for example, coliform levels are too high.] This summer was so dry, I don’t think we had a single advisory. … Then we have for years and years been involved in the Maine phytoplankton monitoring program, and of course this was a terrible red tide year. I don’t know if you’ve heard about it.

Jenn:          No, I hadn’t.

Alexandrium catenella. Photo by Gert Hansen via World Register of Marine Species.

Jane:          I think [it was] the largest and longest closure we’ve ever had in Frenchman Bay and the surrounding area. A lot is still closed. Halfway down into Bar Harbor, all the way up to Machiasport, all the way out to Isle au Haut. It’s still closed to mussels. Further downeast there’s a large swath still closed to mussels, clams, and everything. What happens is when a red tide comes in, mussels filter very fast. Mussels will be the first thing closed. … Clams filter slower, maybe because they’re in the sand and not up in the water column, so it takes longer for them to go toxic. … We’ve got different closures depending on where we are, and the toxicity is waxing or waning. … Typically you’d have these red tide blooms caused by a dinoflagellate called Alexandrium [which has] a neurotoxin that causes paralytic shellfish poisoning, and people usually die … because it paralyzes your muscles, and so you can’t breathe in and out. It affects the respiratory system.

Psuedo-nitzschia. Photo by Dr. Rozalind Jester via Wikipedia.

The big closures we’ve had recently [are] new. This is an organism called Pseudo-nitzschia, and this also [produces] a neurotoxin, but it affects short-term memory. It’s called amnesiac shellfish poisoning. But in higher doses, it causes so much neurological problems that it affects the whole body. It can kill you, too. They’re both deadly at a certain level, but their modes of operation are different. So why is Pseudonitzschia blooming now? There’s actually a lot of different types of them, there’s maybe 40 different species, so researchers [are] trying to figure [it] out. They all kind of look the same. Some are small, some are big, but they’re all pennate diatoms that can form chains. You can’t see it. It doesn’t look red, so there’s no indication, but this one shut everybody down. …

We’re now finally open, but it was weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks. … I used to have a lot of schools involved [in monitoring red tide.] … Over time there was turnover in the teachers, … [and] we don’t have any specific funding to be in schools. Occasionally over the years I’ve had grants that have helped support our work in schools, and at one point I turned to the schools and asked if they could budget for our efforts, and the decision was no. It’s a great project for kids because they can identify these organisms, … they do the collection, and all the water quality parameters that go along with it, then they get a microscope and they identify the organisms, and then the data gets shared back with the DMR, so it’s one of those real-time …

Jenn:          It’s really useful.

Jane:          We call ourselves the first alert system because the organisms show up before the toxicity does, so we’re [a] “heads up” to the DMR that the toxicity is coming, and then they check the shellfish meat, then make closure decisions based on actual toxicity in the organisms.

Jenn:          Do you have certain areas around the bay that you sample regularly?

Jane:          Yeah, once a week from April to October … for 20 years we have done the Bar Harbor town dock and this dock [at the Bio Lab.] Then for many years I did Bass Harbor, but it’s just a big haul out there. For years I had Tremont School looking at Bass Harbor …, because that’s the first place it hits. These organisms move in from off shore.

Jenn:          Is it temperature-driven?

Jane:          Wind-driven, temperature-driven, there could be nearshore nutrients that encourage their replication at the site, or cell division, bloom at the site. … I used to go out to Swan’s Island and Frenchboro, and had those kids involved. … They were like the first of first alert. That’s what I told them. … This was back … like 2007. We managed to hold onto Bass Harbor with volunteers for a number of years, but a year came when I was like, “I don’t have anyone that can run out to Bass Harbor.” So the DMR took it over and we just do Bar Harbor and this upper bay site here, the Bio Lab dock. Tons of data. We’re starting to move it into Anecdata so it’s all publicly available.

Jenn:          I was just going to ask if you’ve got it up.

Jane:          Yeah, but it’s messy. It’s in there and you can look at it, but I’m not happy with it because the method changed over time … And that’s one of the reasons why it was hard to keep schools involved, too, was that it got more complicated over time. It got more quantitative, which required a lot of counting that takes hours, and schools don’t have hours, so I had to work up a simpler system for them that was like first alert to us, so that we can go in and do more detailed samples so that we can be first alert to the DMR. It got more complicated for the work to be authentic. …

That’s actually the subject of one of our research questions in the grant we’re submitting in the next week and a half – we’re going to introduce these tools … – the communications and civic action tools – to some projects that have been in place and [where] people have been taking photos for a bit of time. [It’s going to add complexity.] Then we’re going to start a brand new project with fresh people that have never been involved before. When they get started I’ll have these tools already in place, so [they’ll] never know that life was ever any different.

Jenn:          Right.

Jane:          Mystic Aquarium [is] going to launch a [King Tide] project in Long Island Sound. The Gulf of Maine project is at New England Aquarium, and they’ve offered to mentor Mystic Aquarium. … The thing I anticipate is that the citizens who are already involved in these projects, all they’re asked to do [right now] is go out and take a picture at the high tides. If now we ask them to participate in online forums and track their civic actions, I think there may be people that drop out of the project or are resistant to those additional tasks because it wasn’t what they signed on for. … [We’re going to ask] some sample of people … the question, “When these new tools appeared, how did it make you feel, on a scale of one to five.” … We’ve held onto a few historic projects, which have been great, because not only have we contributed at the state level, but they’ve … been like living laboratories for us on how people work and operate and under what conditions people become engaged. …

This almost gets me more into the social science end of things. This is not my typical kind of questioning or science, but it’s time. After decades of engaging people in the field and on the shore and collecting all these data and then seeing groups like ours coming to the Anecdata site and embarking on the same journey, I’m starting to ask these broader questions about citizen science as a field. I do think that we have something to contribute to it … . It’s not like we’re world-famous, but some of these King Tides projects are. The South Carolina project has been very front and center. Charleston is very low-lying and has experienced a lot of problematic flooding, so they’ve attracted a lot of interest. One of the things about their project though is that it’s run by a state agency, not by, say, the aquarium. As a state agency, they can’t do any advocacy.

Jenn:          I see, so they can just get the data, but they can’t do anything practical?

Jane:          They can make it available to anyone who wants to do advocacy, but on the other end, I think advocacy is almost something that has to be nurtured in communities. I still think people just don’t know how. [We can give] them tools to do it. I’m arguing that that’s not advocacy, giving them the tools. … I’m like, “You’re just using a site that happens to have these tools on it. You don’t have to encourage your participants to do anything.” … If you were to say, “Take this action over that action,” or, “Vote for this person over that one,” that’s encouraging advocacy on your part. …  In terms of other projects, we just finished this EPA environmental education grant that had people monitoring their wells for arsenic.

Jenn:          Where was that?

Jane:          In Maine and New Hampshire. It was a big project. We worked with Dartmouth on it. It was what I call school-based citizen science. We had three schools in New Hampshire and four schools in Maine, and the kids all were able to go home and sample their tap water. Then the teachers were able to mail the samples to this trace element lab at Dartmouth at no cost, and then the data came back to our project coordinator here. She uploaded it into an Anecdata-like site on an arsenic website. We didn’t put it on Anecdata, but we are going to move it over there, in part because we had to work out privacy issues on that data. We think we have good strategies whereby all of the place-based information that we need is in the system, but the only thing that people can view will be the arsenic levels. People don’t need to know whose house it was.

Jenn:          Right. Do they know what town?

Jane:          They’ll know what town. It’s important to know the community, but they won’t be able to trace it back to individual households. … The bigger data set is being sent to the Center for Disease Control. That’s why we really needed to have all the data. It wasn’t an exercise in looking at the community level, at whether or not there was an arsenic problem. We really needed to get the details into the state database, and the same in New Hampshire. They have what’s called their New Hampshire Department of Environmental Services, DES. They don’t have a [CDC.] It’s interesting, there isn’t a Center for Disease Control in every state, but there are other agencies that function like a Center for Disease Control. Down in South Carolina it’s called the Department of Health and Environmental Control, which is the worst name, I think. Environmental Control. It sounds like you’re going to do something that nature doesn’t want you to do.

Jenn:          It sounds like an oxymoron.

Jane:          … I’m working with Bridie McGreavy from University of Maine. She’s been very involved in the Frenchman Bay Partners, and working closely with the Frenchman Bay Regional Shellfish Committee

Jenn:          Is she the one who was doing the opioid studies?

Jane:          She proposed to. She didn’t get that funding.

Jenn:          Oh damn. That’s a fascinating project.

Jane:          Yeah. I don’t think she’s given up on it, but I think she needs to find the right funder. Like a lot of the work I’m venturing into now, it really falls between categories. It’s kind of a scientific project, but it’s kind of a social science project, and it’s crossing boundaries. … Even as universities are beginning to create more across boundaries, across discipline endeavors, trying to solve complicated problems by pulling people from all disciplines, our funding agencies are still stuck within disciplines. It’s very hard to … I think our funding agencies haven’t caught up with what’s going on on the ground. [Bridie’s] not going to give up. She’s committed her career to the intertidal zone, so that’s why this King Tides project became really interesting to her. The impact of King Tides, or changing ocean chemistry and all of that, has different impacts depending on where you are. Some of our bigger issues here are the loss of these nearshore fisheries [Ed.note: clamming, worming, etc.] in part because we took all of our big fish so we’re left with digging in the mud, whereas down in Charleston and Miami, the bigger issue is loss of property and tourism impacts and that kind of thing.

This person from Miami that we’re working with that does the Eyes on the Rise program down there, interestingly, she’s also a journalism professor, which is what Bridie is, technically. … Some of this science-and-advocacy is coming out of environmental journalism, which I find really intriguing. [Eyes on the Rise] have all these amazing sea level predictors. There’s an app they developed where you can zoom in to Google Earth at your own property and then there are these predictive models that lay on top of it and show you what your house is going to look like in 2050.

Sea Level Rise Tool Kit from Eyes on the Rise  (it only works for part of Florida, but it’s pretty cool.)

Jenn:          Oh god. That’s scary.

Jane:          Yeah, the scary thing about it is if you knew that about a house, you wouldn’t buy it. So this can impact property values and all kinds of things, but maybe that’s incentive to think about what to do. Apparently Miami, in response to all of this media work and all of these visuals and integrating NOAA data, NASA data, weather data, … people’s photos …, short videos – all kinds of media that they’ve been generating – Miami is putting in a huge pump system, a multi-billion dollar system that takes water from heavy rain and storms and then instead of it just percolating down into the ground like it does here, it treats it and pumps it out to sea. … There’s a real social justice issue around what communities can afford pumps and which communities can’t … It would be like Bar Harbor being able to deal with storm water and Tremont’s drowning out there or something. …

What is the differential in goals and outcomes of [these projects?] I don’t know. … Some of them are about media campaigns and raising awareness, and others are more about feeding the scientists more information to create more detailed predictive models. It depends on where you are as to what everyone’s motivations are and who’s in charge of it and what agencies are in it and that kind of thing. Interestingly, they all grabbed onto this King Tides hook. That’s the other thing I find interesting. It’s one of the few citizen science projects where it’s been replicated like 27 times in different iterations. … It’s kind of like a ready made experiment because you’ve got all of these projects out there with all these variables at play, and I don’t think anyone’s studied it.

Jenn:          Comparing the difference between all the different King Tide projects?

Jane:          Yeah. I’m only choosing a few of them because I think it’s too much to take on, but we’ll see. If we get into it and realize, “That didn’t take long at all …,” we would reach out. It’s hard to predict how long it’s going to take to gear up and then get people on board and get people to give you feedback. Depending on what kind of data you get back, what the challenges are to analyzing it and making sense of it. Anyhow, that’s the new thing that’s happening. Anecdata has been driving this new thinking.

Jenn:          That’s fantastic.

Jane:          … What I’m trying to also do is let people see that Anecdata might be a project site, but it also could be a research platform. … If you have a site that you can use as a research platform, then you can start tweaking the system and seeing how does that change things, and how does that change things? Because if you just look at what’s going on, it still might not ever get you the answer if you can’t control anything or tweak anything. That’s experimentation. That’s the scientist in me thinking. How can I manipulate this system to get the answer … with people still being willing? There will be a lot of that because this is using human subjects. There have to be a lot of disclosure forms and approval at the university level for the kinds of survey questions you have to ask.

Jenn:          Oh so doing the surveys makes them human subjects?

Jane:          If you’re doing it for research purposes. If we’re only doing it for evaluation purposes, sometimes you can get away without what’s called ‘internal review board approval.’ IRB approval.

Jenn:          Aka jumping through hoops. Wow.

Jane:          Yeah, because people need to know what the data are being used for, and oversight of the survey questions assures that you aren’t starting to ask questions that aren’t related to your research. That’s easy to do, when you start asking questions like, “How many people live in your household.” Maybe if your research question is about household size as it pertains to citizen participation – people from big households don’t have time to participate, so I’m interested in how household structure affects citizen engagement. If that’s my research question, then it might be legitimate to ask that question. If that’s not my question, if I’m only interested in what motivates this person to take pictures …

Jenn:          So you have to think really carefully about your project parameters before you even start.

Jane:          You do. Right. … [The Bio Lab has] a brand new system for education where everybody applies for courses, conferences – they send in applications for summer research programs or the visiting scientist program. Now it’s all in one integrated database for the first time ever, which is great because we have a lot of people who cross programs. … But you have to log in and set up a profile. For students who are on an NSF grant doing an internship or an NIH grant doing an internship, I need a lot of demographic information … because you have to report that … to the granting agency. We have a uniform profile, and a person who is writing a letter of reference for a course applicant has to log in the same way into the system, and then they were being asked all this demographic information, and we were getting emails like, “I don’t understand why I have to tell you all this personal information about myself just so I can write a letter of recommendation for a course applicant.” … We realized that we needed to not assign so much to the profile, and we started to create separate forms that would be attached to each program. It was labor-intensive, but every single one of our 35 different programs has a different set of forms associated with them. Some of them ask for demographic information, some of them don’t ask for demographic information. Some of them-

Jenn:          Wait, is this all within Anecdata?

Jane:          No.

Jenn:          This is a different …

Jane:          We call it Lab Central. Anecdata was a means of collecting information. Duncan was able to take all that thinking and apply it to an entire institution. [Ed.note: Duncan Bailey, Systems Developer at the Bio Lab.]

Jenn:          So this is the Bio Lab’s education program?

Jane:          It was. It started out as a system that we called Education Central where all our education information came in, but other people got jealous and said, “I wish I could track all my chemical inventories that way, I wish I could track all my grants that way, …” So we started to build it out, so now we call it Lab Central. … It’s been amazing. Duncan did it all by himself. … He’s written all the code for it – it’s so customized [and] we are so unique. To get a big course-application software [program] that might be used at a university or something like that was cost-prohibitive and still didn’t deal with the fact that all our courses aren’t the same. We have short courses for undergraduates, we have modular courses for medical doctors. We’re really excited that this is all customized now.

Jenn:          That is amazing.

Jane:          That’s been some diversion of my energies to try to get the whole Bio Lab in good shape, not just my program. But I have Duncan and Anna and Ashley [Ed.note: Anna Farrell and Ashley Taylor], and I’ve cobbled together salaries from multiple small foundation grants.

There’s a guy who does arsenic research from Dartmouth, Bruce Stanton, and he wanted to have an environmental summit here a few years ago, and he really wanted to focus it on arsenic and well water because they were seeing this as a bigger and bigger issue in New England, so we decided to host that here. It was very successful. Many people came from different sectors, and we broke into action groups, and we talked about the need for arsenic education.

[Arsenic education] was kind of a fit for my lab because … we’re all about water, so ground water was just a stretch for me, not a disconnect. And water quality …, and then our long history of working with schools and communities and pulling stakeholders together. … I thought it was such a good idea that I went for a more national, less regional, EPA grant, which was a little risky because it was very competitive. Like, damn, we got that thing. So we spent the last two years in this groundwater thing, but it funded everybody, it funded part of my salary, it funded part of Duncan’s salary, part of Anna’s salary, so we’ve been operating on that for a couple of years. I talked to EPA, it was a national models grant, and I said, “We’ve created a national model. Where do we go with it now? …” They actually said they don’t have any additional funding for same projects. EPA has nothing to offer.

That’s why we’re taking this whole project to NIH, National Institutes of Health, and going at it from a need for people to understand data. The name of this grant is the same thing, Data to Action. I have two data-to-action grants going now. … This EPA thing with uploading the arsenic data and and all of that … – one of the requirements was that [the teachers] integrate arsenic into some science lesson. They had to collect water samples as part of that and get their data back and look at it, and then they had to share their data with their community. The way they shared it was through stories and through role playing and short videos and trifold displays, but what they didn’t do was make graphs. What they didn’t do was data analysis because we didn’t give them the tools.

Jenn:          I see.

Jane:          I made a lot of assumptions about what middle school and high school science teachers would do with data. We had external evaluators on that project who interviewed everybody at the beginning and end, and … the questions I had them asking were about their understanding of the data. What we found out was they learned a lot about arsenic, the dangers of arsenic. “A lot of arsenic is bad. There’s things you can do to mitigate it. It depends on your well. Well filtration is good.” But they couldn’t tell you whether Maine or New Hampshire was worse.

Jenn:          Wow, that seems pretty basic.

Jane:          Or which communities were, right? [With] this next National Institutes of Health grant we’re going to reach out to more teachers and kids in Maine and New Hampshire, including the ones we’ve already worked with, and we’re going to get help with this. We’re going to get partners at Colby, Bates, Bowdoin, and some of our other partner institutions in our states. They’re all on board. They’re going to be data mentors. We’ve got scientists out there [saying,] “This is a problem,” and they’re going to be mentors to teachers in schools so that once they get their data, they have help with the data.

Jenn:          That’s awesome.

Jane:          Yeah. Then when I said they didn’t have the tools, well we were thinking about inventing those tools, then I found a company that’s inventing those tools. It’s called Tuva.

Jenn:          It’s called what?

Jane:          T-u-v-a. I don’t know what the heck it stands for. Tuvalabs.com. They’re on a mission to increase data literacy in schools. They have this capability to upload any data set, and then give teachers and kids all these cool options for ways to look at it: like let’s look at it like that, let’s look at it like this. It also has all these sample data sets on there that they can … ask questions like, “What way would you like to look at this data? Do you think you should use a bar chart? What’s a bar chart really going to tell you? Maybe you need a box chart …,” you know, so the whole thing talks them through, “What kind of choices will you make to help you visualize the data,” then you can answer questions, and if you … answer them wrong, fail the quiz, then the system takes you back and walks you through again. We’re going to have teacher workshops, we’re going to teach them how to use the software.

Jenn:          It sounds like a fantastic resource.

Tuva K-12 – Demo from Harshil Parikh on Vimeo.

Jane:          I’m so excited. And, turns out a woman I’ve worked with many years at University of Maine, Molly Schauffler, she’s in the Climate Change Institute there, she’s an educational consultant [with Tuva]. She will come and teach a … mentoring workshop for the scientists who want to mentor. They’re going to have to understand how Tuva works, too. We’re going to become a Tuva state. We’re writing that into the grant, the cost of that. During the five years of this project, all these teachers in Maine are going to have free access to this software for whatever purposes that they’re trying to grapple with data.

Then of course after that, there’s a cost for a school district. They’re a for-profit company, but I don’t think their costs are high compared to what I see for software. Of course it means some school districts will be able to afford it and others might not. I think it’s the kind of thing a school district would spring for if all their teachers were clamoring for it. Also I think the tool would work well across departments. I think that social studies teachers have data, math departments have data. Computer science. …

Jenn:          The school itself probably has data it needs to understand.

Jane:          Yep. They are actually building out – they started for schools, but I can see that they’re building out sites for institutions, and I see they’re interested in citizen science, so I think they’re thinking they’re going to learn a lot by working with us and our arsenic data. This data-to-action, that’s what I have. I have collected data, I have watched other people collect data for a lot of things. It is time to turn data into action. … Does that get at any of the things you wanted to learn from this interview?

Jenn:          Yeah, you’re up to big stuff!

Jane:          I’m trying. I might get swatted down.

Jenn:          Yeah, but you don’t tend to stay swatted down.

Jane:          But I am venturing beyond my expertise in the well water monitoring, the arsenic, even the data – because honestly we struggle in our own lab with our own data analysis. I make this bold claim in the introduction to this grant, “Everyone struggles with data.” I don’t think there’s ever been a more important time. This is the other argument I’m trying to make … – that people who are rejecting that climate change is real are people who are uncomfortable with data. There have been studies done … where they’ve taken people and given them, like if they’re entrenched on an issue, they’ve given them some data to help sway them and they’re still not swayed, so they give them more data, and they’re still not swayed, so they present them with a storm of evidence, then people actually get – they’ll believe it less.

Jenn:          Wow.

Jane:          The more data, the further away they move from acceptance. Data is starting to be problematic, which is why I think these people down in Miami are on to something using all these visual-media-based tools. It’s like people made to see their house underwater, not a CO2 graph. The CO2 graph is the thing that’s disturbing.

Jenn:          To people who know it means.

Jane:          To people who know that the whole planet, it’s the whole planet.

Jenn:    But other people need to be like ‘Well we haven’t had a shrimp season in five years for a reason.’

Jane:    Yeah.

Jenn:    Right.

Jane:    There’s complicated layers … but I actually think the shrimp thing … Bigelow Laboratory did a huge study that showed that our plankton level is way down. I don’t know how that might interplay with these … it’s like a whole food chain problem. … It could also be nutrient-driven. We have certain nutrient regimes that have been established over millennia, the way rivers bring nutrients onto land and the ocean. Now we have ice caps melting and diverting, offshore currents with fresh water inputs. I can’t explain it, but it’s what people are looking at are these offshore nutrient regimes that feed systems. Yes it is ultimately temperature-related because we’re losing the ice caps. Again that’s so removed from people’s reality.

Jenn:    Those of us who are just thinking about [whether the water is getting warmer.]

Jane:    Oh yeah, and as a matter of fact, it might not be all that much warmer. … If you just look at our local water temperature data, it doesn’t look dramatic, but actually it doesn’t take much of a change [to affect marine ecosystems.]

Jenn:    I haven’t seen data for the bay, just for the Gulf.

Jane:    Well, the Gulf of Maine has had good years and bad years, too, like in 2012, it was the hottest year ever on record, but five years later we’re not having anything that severe going on. I think when you have these oscillations that people “believe it, don’t believe it, believe it, don’t believe it” – they’ve given up trying to understand data. This is the thing that Molly Schauffler wants students to get out of this project and … this data literacy software in particular is that what’s important to understand is variation, and how things vary around the data. Everyone wants to get to a number, but it’s the array of numbers that’s important. … Maybe it takes a whole lifetime to start to get at what the real problem is. It’s about how people perceive things, and how people receive things, and what will motivate people to move to action. I would like to think that behind all of that activity are sound data, but our strategies may not be data-driven. … We’ve made lots of improvements in reading literacy in this country. … We’ve had First Ladies go on their reading literacy campaigns and … everyone has recognized how important reading literacy is and maybe in another generation [we’ll get to] data literacy, have an understanding of numbers. Most of us can’t – I can’t deal with my own finances. I just got my report back on my retirement account that says my fund grew by 1.9% last month. That doesn’t sound that good. Maybe it is.

Jenn:    … I have to force myself to focus on [those reports.]

Jane:    So then there’s this whole array of choices of different funds that I can reapportion my retirement into. I’m not that good at dealing with those data. On the down low, I don’t even like to tell people what I can’t cope with because I’m trying to help them cope with it. But I think that that generalized data do feed into all aspects of our lives. In ways that somebody would have to do research projects on. You know, 20 years from now all the kids that got this data literacy curriculum, do they have more or less money in their retirement accounts?

Jenn:    And are their houses under water?

Jane:    Or to be movers and shakers in their communities and get land use ordinances passed that move back development from the shoreline, or decrease the amount of impervious surface. … We’re in a conundrum, and all I can do is take my little piece that’s based on my couple decades experience and hope that keeps driving some conversations forward and making some ripple effects. I always admire those people that get on the national stage and change things … I’ve always been more interested, I think you are too, at how things play out for people right where they are. I think it’s going to take a hundred King Tides projects, not a King Tides project. I think it organically grew just the right way. I think one of the things we might find is that the Gulf of Maine King Tides project is too big.

Jenn:          Really?

Jane:          Well no one around here takes pictures. We feel disconnected from that project. I think there needs to be ‘MDI King Tides,’ ‘Schoodic Penninsula King Tides.’

Jenn:          I don’t think most people here know about it.

Jane:          No, they don’t know about it. And if they did know about it, like if they saw in the newspaper …, ‘Go out and take a picture on this day,’ is there anyone going to go with me? [Ed.note: The newspaper did run an article after the November King Tides, but I don’t know if it increased participation.]

Walking back through the Bio Lab campus

Jane:          Well this was so wonderful to get you up to speed on everything that’s going on.

Jenn:          It sounds like you have some really, really cool projects.

Jane:          I’m very excited. You know my kids are off in the world and it’s a good life stage to try to get some things off the ground that have been languishing in my mind.

Jenn:          The last awkward thing is, can I take a picture? …

Jane:          Sure. … I’ve had many a picture taken here on Frenchman Bay. My kids, I think I told you, they were like, “Oh when you die, Mom, we’ll scatter your ashes on Frenchman Bay.” … I said, “Could you scatter my ashes on Somes Pond?”

Jenn:          Why is that?

Jane:          Because that’s where I play. Don’t put me out in my workplace. I’ll feel obligated to do something.

Jenn:          Fertilize the eel grass.

Jane:          So funny. … I’d like to stay in this place anyhow. No matter where I go, I just want to get back here. Do you feel that way? I did a lot of traveling last year. … South Carolina, … Tampa Bay, … out to Santa Cruz to see my sister, … back to New Jersey. … My other sister lives there. I had this big year of travel. It didn’t matter where I went. I was like, Santa Cruz was nice, but it’s crowded and I don’t recognize any of the trees. You know what I mean? … I just want to get home to where I know every bird and every tree.

Jenn:          I love to travel, I really enjoy being in new places, but I have to come home.

Jane:          Yeah. I’ve never ended up in a place where I was like, “I could just stay here forever.” …

Jenn:          That would be this island.

Jane:          Yeah. I knew it when we came here to interview. We came from Washington state. I interviewed at the Jackson Lab in 1989. …We didn’t even know there was an Acadia National Park, let alone that it was here. … When she showed us around the island, we were looking at each other like, “Oh my god. Hope we get these jobs.” We both had PhDs in genetics, so didn’t we luck out that there were a couple of research labs here.

Well, what a day! I have to go back in, but thanks for getting me [outdoors!]

 

Looking back at the Bio Lab campus from the dock. You can see Star Point at the left.

WORKS CITED

Disney, Jane, Duncan Bailey, Anna Farrell, and Ashley Taylor. “Next Generation Citizen Science Using Anecdata.org.” Maine Policy Review 26.2 (2017) : 70 -79, http://digitalcommons.library.umaine.edu/mpr/vol26/iss2/15. Visited January 13, 2018.

“Gulf of Maine and Beyond: Changing Food Webs in the Gulf of Maine and Beyond,” Bigelow Laboratory for Ocean Sciences, undated. https://www.bigelow.org/science/topics/gulf-of-maine-and-beyond.html. Visited January 13, 2018.

Shepherd, Samuel, “December King Tide Reached 13 Feet,” Mount Desert Islander, Dec.12, 2017

Shetterly, Susan Hand, “Profile of Gail McCullough of Hancock, who studies harbor seals in Young’s Bay” (1994). Maine News Index – Maine Times. 740.  http://digitalcommons.portlandlibrary.com/news_times/740  Visited January 13, 2018.

 

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Thank you, Frenchman Bay Partners

The Frenchman Bay Partners is kind of a coalition of people working around the bay – seaweed harvesters, wormers, scientists, Harbor Committee members, Shellfish Committee members, college professors, tour companies, mussel farmers, land trust people – who are concerned with the ecological and economic health of the bay. You’ll be meeting a few of them in coming interviews. I think I’m the only artist in the group.

If you are deeply concerned about things like green crabs, mudflats, or sustainable harvesting of marine resources, you should probably join, too.

Anyway, all of that is a long introduction to say, “Thank you, Frenchman Bay Partners, for the $300 grant that will pay for professional transcription of my interviews with scientists in 2018. You rock.”

 

 

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Interview: Mary Roper at the Asticou Azalea Garden

I caught up with Mary Roper, Head Gardener for the Asticou Azalea Garden in Northeast Harbor, on October 11, 2017. It was 59ºF, sunny, and a brisk, cheerful sort of fall morning. Mary and I are old friends and fellow landscape professionals (in an alternate timeline I’m a landscape architect), so our conversation included a lot of abbreviated botanical names, local people, and the philosophical underpinnings of Japanese garden design. Rather than trying to explain everything in the middle of the conversation, I’m going to give you a short glossary right here:

Thomas Hall was vice-president of the Island Foundation (the organization that manages the Azalea Garden, now the Land & Garden Preserve) and chair of the Asticou Azalea Garden Committee in the 1980s.

Beth Strauss was vice-president of the Island Foundation and chair of the Garden Committee in the 1990s.

Patrick Chasse is a landscape architect specializing in historic preservation and an expert on the work of Beatrix Farrand.

Beatrix Farrand. (from Baldwin, Letitia S., Thuya Garden.)

Beatrix Farrand was an early-20th century landscape designer. Many of the Azalea Garden’s original plantings came from her Bar Harbor estate, Reef Point.

Charles Savage, the third generation of the Savage family to own the Asticou Inn, designed and installed the Azalea Garden beginning in 1957. For information on the history of the Azalea Garden, see the link or the Works Cited section below.

COA: College of the Atlantic.

Mirei Shigemori, garden designer, 1896–1975. Expert on historic Japanese garden design who worked to blend traditional design with modern ideas.

Traditional Japanese garden design goes back at least to the Sakuteiki, (“Records of Garden-Making”), an 11th-century manual on garden design. The setting of stones within a garden had a spiritual component and was so integral to the design that ‘stone setting’ and ‘garden making’ were at times used interchangeably. An enormous amount has been written on the subject, but Bowdoin College has a good, short, online primer.

 

All right, let’s start the interview!

Jenn:     [Let’s start with] ‘how did you end up here?’

Mary:   At the time that I joined, Tom Hall was the person overseeing the garden … . He was a very interesting person, a part-time poet …, and he had taken on this garden along with Pat Chasse [to] restore it from a semi-neglected state. … He died in the spring of ‘90, so I only overlapped with him for one fall. When his prior head gardener … was no longer available … he happened to ask my boss at the time who he should hire, and … John Smith said, “You should hire Mary.”

Jenn:     Were you working for the Azalea Garden?

Mary:   I was working for this tiny little nursery in Otter Creek, John Smith and Son. It’s been gone for a lot of years, but it had a long run of taking care of Northeast Harbor and Seal Harbor properties and providing plant material for them…. The nursery had increasingly declined, so it was actually really good timing. … Anyway, I came here in the fall of ’89, and I had a little bit of overlap with Amy Davis who was the prior head gardener. She had been here for three years, and at the time, I didn’t know so much about gardening. I had a lot to learn, but this was a really good place to do it … because the garden still had so many incredibly obvious needs. Paths that were in places they shouldn’t be and things that had grown in and dead wood that had never been taken out. …

My awareness of the garden’s needs grew along with the garden’s development. We sort of grew up together. Beth Straus became the … head of the garden committee, and … she and I had some lovely adventures, like heading down to New York City for a conference on Japanese gardens. She brought in Yuji Yoshimura, from the New York Botanical Garden, and he helped us take a much stronger approach towards the pruning. At points, it was a little too strong, so we actually backed off from his style over time, but he initiated that and helped us to develop our eye in terms of the strength of forms and how important that was.

Let’s see. What else? Beth [had a] strong interest in continuing to increase the Asian feeling of the garden, and her way was mostly through bringing in these pruners, which made a really big difference. We were able to increase the staffing enough during her time to start pruning the Mugos by hand [Ed. note: Pinus mugo]. The Mugo planting had really been designed by Tom Hall, with a little bit of help from Pat Chasse. We extended that and … gave it more strength and more ability to achieve its visual tie to the landscapes beyond … .

Beth Strauss also initiated the … effort to purchase … an old farmhouse [on the edge of the original garden] – it had always had this overbearing presence on the garden and it inhibited the garden’s Asian feeling because it was so colonial. … The farmhouse was taken down because we realized that we would be pouring money into the farmhouse rather than the garden … .

Right after that, the pond was dredged, and we put all the dredgings from the pond up in the area where the house had been, which allowed us to have the traditional berms that often [occur] near ponds … in Japanese gardens. You’ve got to have a certain depth to your pond, and [the sediment you remove] ends up creating hills nearby, and it works together rather beautifully. … This gave us a brand new canvas [that] by the feel of it, … doubles the size of the garden. … We were able to do that and to extend Charles Savage’s style and at many times also his elements.

We were able to go back to the same quarry where he had collected stones and pitch pines and re-collect again, which is amazing to me. It seems like the only place you could do that would be a place like Maine, … where you have family connections in place for 50 years that are still providing resources for artistic endeavors. It’s amazing.

Jenn:     Where is the quarry?

Mary:   We went to Hall Quarry, and we were able to draw from the MacQuinn pit up in there for the initial batch of pitch pines and for a lot of the stones. One of our committee members … had property that was adjacent to the quarry, so we were also able to bring stones from his property. [Ed. note: Pitch pines (Pinus rigida) are smallish, irregularly-shaped native pines that like thin, acidic, soils. They aren’t exactly rare, but  you see them mostly on ridges and mountaintops, or coastal ledges, and around here, those are mostly in Acadia National Park. You almost never find them commercially grown. Fortunately, quarry soils are thin and acidic, so Hall Quarry had a good population. Since some of the original Azalea Garden stones came from Hall Quarry, Mary’s crew was able to stock up on both materials to extend the garden seamlessly.]

Jenn:     That’s fantastic.

Mary:   It is. It’s amazing. I wasn’t willing to extend the garden with stone unless we could maintain the quality of stones that Savage had used, and because of these incredible, generous donors, yes, we could. … We had a lot of sources to draw from, and that gave us the feeling that we could continue as if it were still 1958. We didn’t want this garden to end up with two personalities, and we didn’t want the new garden to adopt that rather “I’m better than you” style that often happens when new pieces are built.

Jenn:     A lot of people think that a garden is designed [once] and then maintained, but this is a classic story of a garden … developing and growing with each group of people –

Mary:   Yes, maintaining its style.

Jenn:     … What are your favorite parts of what’s grown while you’ve been here?

Mary:   Well, it’s been a great learning curve for me. It really has. All of the new work has been under my guidance, so it’s my design work … . We brought in David Slawson for a week to help us think about things.

Jenn:     Who’s he?

Mary:   He’s been involved in Japanese gardens for a lot of years …, and it seemed to me at the time that he was the best fit for us because he was creating Japanese gardens through an American [plant] palette, and there weren’t very many people … doing that. There were a lot of people who were creating Japanese gardens, sort of transplanting them with all their plant material and everything to America, but there weren’t very many people who were doing it [with] an American palette. It turned out that, in [the] design process that we engaged with him, I actually learned that my [own] ideas were solid. …

Jenn:     What a great feeling.

Mary:   Yeah. It was. … We did need David Slawson very much for one thing – … at the time, I was almost too loyal to Mr. Savage because I admire his work so completely that … I was still resisting changing certain pieces. David Slawson came in and said, “You know, we’ve got to move these vaseyi azaleas.” [Ed. note: Rhododendron vaseyi.] At first, I thought, “Oh, no. This is historic. We shouldn’t, we really shouldn’t.” Then as I looked at it, I was like, “Oh my gosh. That’s exactly right.” We mapped out this section here [which] had a big row of vaseyi, and they were blocking access to the new side, and so we agreed that even though these plants were 50 years old that we would go ahead and find out how they would react to being moved. It turns out they reacted beautifully.

Jenn:     Oh good.

Mary:   We started them from seed at that time [too, because] we weren’t sure. We wanted to cover our bases, so we had some youngsters as well as the old guys. Now we have lots of vaseyi to play with. Anyway, I needed David Slawson for that push of where to respect historic [material] versus creating change …, and he helped to establish this linking section. … [One benefit of keeping the design work in-house] was it allowed us to move ahead as materials were available rather than being forced to do it when [a designer] was present; we could wait for the proper ingredients to appear, which has taken years [as] the stones have come in, 10, 12 at a time, and that’s how they get placed. That has all been really very much supported by having [the] designer on site.

Jenn:     Yeah, and also intimately involved with the day-to-day running of the place.

Mary:   … I’m able to design in a way that accommodates our maintenance needs. When I put in this new side, hidden in that design is a permanent access for dredging the pond.

Jenn:     No kidding?

Mary:   That’s another benefit that we achieved by keeping it local. Then also, there really may be something to this idea of ideas that originate from the site itself, this sort of historic notion of allowing the site to present its face over time … and then working with that. I feel like that’s another thing that comes from being on site all the time.

Jenn:     I completely agree. One of the things that I tell a lot of my clients who build new houses is just to put in a minimal landscape and wait.

Mary:   And wait until you really get the feel for it.

Jenn:     See how you live in it. See what you like out your windows, how the site, like you said, reveals itself over time.

Mary:   It does. The way the light falls and ways that you might want to work to enhance that, the features all reveal themselves through time. It’s a remarkable way to work, and truly all these gardens that we admire, the ones in Japan that took place before Shigemori, let’s say. He would sort of be a turning point in the history of Japanese gardens. He’s the modernizing influence where he is drawing from the past, but he’s also creating the new. The ones before him, … were not built in a short time period. They were built exactly in this manner, and because of that, they have a strength of place that is powerful. This garden has a magic of its own. In some regards, all of the work we do here is meant to allow that to express itself. …

Jenn:     The way people change as they get older.

Mary:   Yeah. … I hate to say it, but I’ve been here for many years, [and] my perspective says [this garden] has had its golden era … based on the Beatrix Farrand plant material. That golden era probably would have extended further, except that climate change is also coming in now, and … opening up the door for fungal diseases, [which] seem to be more important than insects at this point. It’s really changing what this garden is. … One of the things that the old garden taught us was that when Farrand propagated her own plant material from seeds and from cuttings she was handing us this torch, this burning torch that would last 50 to 75 years or more. … We realized we wanted to do that again for the next generation. [We started] a plant propagation program … now we’re growing azaleas from seed and from cuttings as needed, and also trees. I’ve been growing the Sargent crab apples [Malus sargentii] out in Lamoine at my place, and we’ve been bringing them in at an eight-foot completely branched size so that people who come to this garden don’t realize that we just replanted.

Jenn:     That’s amazing.

Mary:   That maintains the continuity of the plant material. It allows the plant material that’s lived here all those years to move ahead with its adaptation to the site … . The cuttings allow us to select specific forms that have particular talents that we want to engage, and then to multiply those plants. That’s gotten us into this whole bare root thing – we move our trees at the end of April. We move them bare root. … We put them right in the site, and they’ve got every single root still on them. … The plant material you buy through the nursery trade has about a 15, 20 year run, and then it collapses: … the biggest reason is sort of a delayed liability … because of the period where its roots were reduced to 20%. [Ed.note: nursery-grown trees often lose most of their root system when they are dug up for sale.] That leaves you with this hidden liability … when the regrowth of the roots suddenly choke each other out. … Anyway, I’ve been here long enough to see the collapse of commercial landscape material, but we had started the propagation program before we even realized that. We started it because of this cherry tree – they only last 50 years, and then they tend to give out, so we had started it for that, … [and] now we’re also growing pitch pines from seed because we’ve sort of tapped out [the quarry supply].

Jenn:     That’s a slow process.

Mary:   Yes, except that when we go back to those old 1958 photos [of the Azalea Garden installation], we see azaleas at a five-foot size and pitch pines at a four, so there’s precedent for this.

Jenn:     Yes.

Mary:   We know what to do. We can handle this. We really want that longevity, and as we move into climate change, let’s face it, we need plant material that has all of its immunity, all of its adaptation to the site. We need that local genetic base as well – grown properly and never abused, never traumatized. No hidden liability. It’s kind of like people in that regard. Kind of makes you think of that, doesn’t it?

Jenn:     You live longer if you’ve had a healthy childhood.

Mary:   Yeah, right. I guess it was very affirming too when I, in the middle of all that, I went back and was looking into Farrand’s work and then remembered she set up her own nurseries at Princeton and Yale. Why? Because she wanted really good quality plant material, so the problems that we’re dealing with were already there all those years ago back in the ’40s. The commercial tree business wasn’t much better than it is today. You know? They probably did use a little less Kool-Aid than they do today, [Ed.note: chemical fertilizers, rooting hormones, etc.] and they probably did have a little more diversity than today. They might have even been a little more aware of provenance than today, because a lot of the plants that came up here had great provenance. They were from the northern end of their ranges again and again and again because of the connection with the Arnold Arboretum. [Ed.note: The director at the time was a friend of Farrand’s and sent her a lot of newly introduced plants.] Farrand was at the end of a lot of plant exploration, and there was a real commitment at that time to staying in touch with where the plants were from and where they might be good to be used. We’ve lost that now in the commercial. You have no idea where something came from.

Jenn:     Yep, they’ll say it’s hardy to such and such a zone, but it was grown three zones farther south.

Mary:   Grown in Florida and then had all its roots cut off and fed on Kool-Aid its whole life – these are pretty powerful liabilities. All in all, that is one of the strengths of this garden is its ability to reveal to us what horticulture is outside of this commercial endeavor. What is horticulture really? Because of the generosity of the funding of the many people that contribute to the Land and Garden Preserve, we’re able to step outside of the commercial realm somewhat and to take matters into our own hands. And incredibly, propagating it actually ends up to be a financial benefit, at the end of all that.

Jenn:     Yeah, that makes sense.

Mary:   You’ve paid almost nothing for this incredible plant material.

Jenn:     You invested time.

Mary:   Meanwhile, the commercial trade has gone in the other direction. When I bought a vaseyi azalea from [a reputable nursery] about what, 10 years ago, I paid $100 for a four foot plant: I wanted to see how it would perform compared to the ones we were growing, and of course the ones we’re bringing back into the garden are five or six feet tall now, and we’ve brought in something like 30 or 40 of them, so you can just see right there what we’ve saved. We’ve put almost nothing financially into them.

Jenn:     I have to stop you for a sec. I’m embarrassed to say I had no idea how much of the design work here you had done. … It’s not in the narrative. The narrative that I’m familiar with is that Charles Savage designed it, Pat Chasse renovated it.

Mary:   I’m happy with that. … The way I see it is the less people think about who a designer was, the better. … I feel like that’s one of the advantages of working from the site is that … you don’t need to become a personality. You can simply connect to the work and let the site express itself. There are really several sources that are expressing themselves here. One is Charles Savage for sure. There are many elements of his work that I’ve brought into the new work directly. Then the second is Acadia. Working on sort of the wing of the garden … makes it easy and incredibly appropriate to draw in that Acadia feeling so that Japan is housed within Acadia.

Jenn:     Oh, I like that. That’s a beautiful way of putting it.

Mary:   It’s like an arm wrapping around and holding what’s a little bit more foreign, and this also fits within Savage’s [ideas]. In his writings he says he didn’t want a foreign note to be visible from the road …. In fact, we’re going a little bit beyond that, saying, “Let’s make it strongly Acadia from the road.” This is one of the reasons we haven’t installed a Japanese lantern that’s really prominent from the road. … I don’t feel like we’re quite there yet. We’re still working on that new side and there are 12 rather incredible stones that are coming in this fall.

Jenn:     Oh?

Mary:   Yeah. The way that I do this is … Well, first off, we went and collected the stones from Vittoria’s woods last fall. I’ve had a chance to sort of sit with them over the summer. As I work with each stone, I wait until it reveals its strongest aspect, and then I find a way to use it in the landscape where its strength is maximized. It’s like two strengths. It’s a strength when you see the stone itself, and then ‘how does it fit into the overall picture?’ So you sort of are trying to do both, and the 12 stones that are coming in – they are beautifully, effortlessly extending that Acadia feeling.

Jenn:     Looking forward to seeing that. Would you show me some of your stone groupings?

Mary:   Okay. The old garden is everything from this stone this way, and the new garden is everything this way. The huge row of vaseyi was right through here. A straight row that appeared to literally have been planted in the strip between tire tracks because the access point for bringing the plant material and all the equipment and everything had been right through here, and so the strip became ‘Vaseyi Row.’

Jenn:     Wow.

Mary:   In order to join the new side, you had to sort of squeeze down one side or the other. Neither was very comfortable, and so we took them out … . There were no stones in this direction at all.

Jenn:     Really?

Mary:   None. Everything we’ve placed. See the vaseyi sweeping up through here?

Jenn:     Yes.

Mary:   That’s them. They had [originally] been planted to be a backdrop for the garden, and they still are, and in fact, they’re even a better backdrop in their new location than prior, so it’s quite wonderful that they survived being moved at a 50-year-old point in their lives.

Jenn:     Yeah. Even people don’t like being uprooted at 50.

Mary:   No. Last year, we were able to add this stone lantern, and this year we’ll be adding a moss skirt to that.  …

Jenn:     Wow.

Mary:   This is the new side, and yes, all the stones we had to find and bring. One of our greatest donors actually [had] areas hidden in the woods near Thuya. … That was incredibly fortuitous because the energy that’s moving through this site in terms of stones really comes from Thuya. … Of course, what we really gain [from the expansion] is these views back to the original garden. We also put the stones in the pond.

Up and through here, we’ve been working on fall-color planting, and we’ve discovered that fall color is actually quite a bit less reliable than bloom, so this has been tough. Not only that, but trees that are in the trade for fall color have all been selected for southern areas, not for here. We’ve had to put extra time into working this out. There’s an azalea up in there that’s going to form this sort of mountainscape in the back … ..

Jenn:     Fantastic.

Mary:   Isn’t it nice to be this close to the water?

Jenn:     It really is.

Mary:   When I found this spot, we had three giant Norway maples that had to come out, but it just had absolutely the right feeling and didn’t seem to matter that the road was so nearby. … I don’t know if you can see it, but the moss that’s beyond the little peninsula-

Jenn:     At the base of the stones there?

Mary:   Yeah, so that is going to come over here.

Jenn:     Oh, that’s going to be gorgeous.

Mary:   Yeah, we’re excited about it.

Jenn:     How are you doing that? If it’s proprietary, don’t tell me, but-

Mary:   It’s not. … Well, what tends to happen on the edge of a pond is you get grasses, you get things that like a lot of nutrients and can handle the wet. … If we just put haircap moss there, it would get invaded. What we’ve done instead is we’ve built a rock base up and we’ve stopped that rock base at one inch below the surface of the water, and in that one inch, we put a sort of manipulated local clay, and then we plant our haircap onto that local clay.

Jenn:     Wow.

Mary:   We have got a piece of [landscape] fabric just under the clay. The clay acts like a capillary mat, constantly keeping the haircap beautifully damp, which it loves. It’s just the perfect amount of moisture for it, so it’s been working great. … Oh, and you can walk on it.

Jenn:     Carefully?

Mary:   Because of the stone that’s underneath. If we were just installing on top of [the pond edge], you might walk on it a few times, but it would [get compacted and] end up lower than the pond.

Jenn:     Right.

Mary:   You’d end up with problems, and then the weed seeds would come in, so [there are] a bunch of little things that we’re managing.

Jenn:     Clever. Very clever.

Mary:   … I’ve watched all this stuff for a lot of years. We wanted it to stay green in spite of dry weather, which that does, and we wanted it to be low maintenance, which that is, and we wanted to be able to walk on it, which we can, and we wanted the moss to be exceedingly happy, which it is.

Jenn:     Win-win.

Mary:   Yeah. And here’s where we’re not in the golden era anymore. We’ve lost David Rockefeller’s tree, and we’ve lost the giant Korean fir that was on the south lawn, so David’s tree was [planted in] ’97, but the Korean fir goes all the way back to ’56.

Jenn:     Wow.

Mary:   We knew we were going to lose both of them, we knew we were in trouble, especially the fir tree, so we knew this day was coming. We’ve got the pitch pines ready to go, and they’re at about a four-foot size, which is traditional. … We only started them in 2012, so that’s not that long.

Jenn:     No, that’s not. What are your plans for when this pine goes?

Mary:   Well, that would be one of the reasons that we want to replant a pitch pine here on Pebble Point – we anticipate that that one will give in. That one is one of the lessons from … a Bonsai style that was initiated at a late point in the plant’s life. This tree was double its height. Yuji Yoshimura cut it down by half, which left us with stubs at the top of the tree like this, and those stubs are of course now rotting, which we knew would take place. … The thing is now I know how to respond, and we’ve got the trees ready to go, so we’ll let the tree element be on this side.

That’s another thing that we’ve been developing here is [a plan for] ‘What do we do with the feature trees?’ Do we replant them in their exact location, or do we give them a 75-year rotation? I think we’re going to choose that 75-year rotation model because it allows the garden to show other strengths, for one thing, but it also gets around the changes in the soil that take place when a tree’s been in one place for a long time, so we would expect it to perform better in a new location. We’ve got some of those rotations going, and the Asticou cherry, the one over here … that sort of heralds spring every year, that guy when the white pine is no longer with us, he moves over to that location.

Jenn:     Oh wow. That is going to be so beautiful.

Mary:   Isn’t that exciting? I know. From here, from where we are right now, it’s pretty damn good, yeah.

Jenn:     The sunlight going through the petals is going to be unbelievable.  …

Mary:   Then over here in the place where the Korean fir was, I’ve planned a group of five pitch pines, which will help to really secure the Acadia feeling from the road again, and then it will also give us this incredible understory planting to allow the … azaleas [grown] from seed to come into the picture. They’re giving us slightly new colors and slightly new forms, and I’m excited about that because that’s one of the benefits of allowing them to outcross freely – they show us what they want to be, and then we get to enjoy that in a new location.

Jenn:     That’s so cool. When are you going to do the planting here?

Mary:   We have to be patient because the pines would prefer to be moved early spring, so what we do, we wait for that moment when the frost is all the way out of the ground, and we dive right in and move as many things as we can. It’s the musical chairs point of the season, and that’s when the five pitch pines will come over from our collection out back.

Jenn:     Well, I can’t wait to see that.

Mary:   I’ve actually got some drainage work to solve before that time, so that’s one of the benefits of being forced to wait on the trees’ timing – we can solve a few problems in advance. Fall season is fairly short, and we have a lot we have to get off the list.

Jenn:     I have to say, I’m looking at this garden in a whole different way – I was just here last week and it looks completely different to me now that [we’ve talked.]

Mary:   Interesting. Last week, you might’ve been seeing it through a historic lens, and now you’re seeing it more [as an] in-progress, living feature.

Jenn:     Exactly.

Mary:   Well, good. I’m glad that last week you weren’t aware. I prefer that.

Jenn:     It’s funny. You’ve made some huge changes while I’ve been here, and I tend to forget.

Mary:   Good.

Jenn:     I remember that house, and then I forgot that it was ever there. …

Mary:   How could there be any greater compliment? Yeah, like everything is meant to be here, and it has the strength of the old garden. … I try not to do anything in this garden until the design creates a certain sort of enthusiasm in me, and when I feel that, then I know, yeah, okay, we move ahead … Why install something that doesn’t have that? In time we will have to respond to the need to replace all the pitch pines, but right now, it’s just select areas.

Jenn:     I just love – I don’t quite know how to express it. I’ve got a sense of the garden as a changing creation, like things are going to morph and move and … Like the tree is going from one section to another. It’s beautiful. It’s just a beautiful way to think of it.

Mary:   Truthfully, you know and I know that within the landscape world, the strength of personalities involved in design work often inhibit the integrity of the site. … That’s kind of where we’ve been for a lot of years. From my perspective, allowing this sort of flexibility to co-evolve with my own thinking is a beautiful way to step forward with landscape in general. Why? Because these issues of ‘how do we bring the past forward into the future’ is a struggle in many gardens, and it doesn’t feel like a struggle here to me. I keep experiencing it as opportunities and as expression and as a chance to let Asticou be even more Asticou. That’s how I see it. When what was a Korean fir becomes five pitch pines, it’s actually stronger. … I get excited about that because it gives us a chance to let Asticou be itself and the visitors who come will have no idea … that there was any change or that it ever looked any other way, and how perfect.

Jenn:     Exactly. I trained in historic preservation, and dealing with historic landscapes, usually people pick an era. [You’re supposed to decide] ‘What’s the era of significance,’ and then you try and freeze it.

Mary:   That’s right. You try, yeah.

Jenn:     You can’t freeze a landscape.

Mary:   You can’t. … As a tree matures, yes, there may be a perfect 30, 40 years where it is optimum, sure, but as you get into that maturing process, there are new expressions that are as strong as the original expression, and you may be missing those. Conversely, you may have a tree that’s gotten to a size where it’s obliterating everything, and so you’ve got to be able to make those decisions on site and to [see] where the strength is and then doing everything you can to amplify and to enhance that.

You’ll end up choosing, maybe there’s a youthful era and then there’s a mid-age era and then there’s an old age era, so yeah, it doesn’t really make sense to get stuck in one of those because all three have strength to give, and there are assets within each phase that cannot be claimed in the other phases. … It’s when you’re on site and when you see something over time that you can do this. I would argue that all the old historic gardens, the ones that we really love all benefited from that process. They were not designed on paper in an office over a period of two months and then installed.

Photo by Charles K. Savage ca.1958, courtesy of the Mount Desert Historical Society via Maine Memory Net.      “This image shows an area of the garden, “Pebble Point”, which no longer exists. This original garden feature was created with pebbles brought in from Jasper Beach, near Machias. The feature washed away the following spring and the area became submerged into the pond.”

Jenn:     I think most good designers know that the work has to change, that what’s on paper is just the starting point, but the trouble comes when people 100 years later are trying to go back and decide what’s important, and a lot of people fixate on that paper plan.

Mary:   Yeah, I know it.

Jenn:     Because it’s documentation.

Mary:   Yeah, I know. … I’m not even sure I want things on paper because of that. Sometimes if you reveal too much of the process and the history, people will once again get fixated on one element of something and say, “Oh, well, it used to be this way. Well, it must’ve been better when it was like that,” and they weren’t there during the time to realize no, it was actually quite weak during that era. I see that. I see that potential is always there.

Jenn:     Do you have a set of guidelines that you [developed] … Like for the next person?

Mary:   Yeah, the next person. I don’t know.

Jenn:     How do you communicate this?

Mary:   I don’t know what to do about the next person. I would want them to learn the hard way, the way I did. You can have some missteps in those learning years. It would be nice to offer some freedom from the more dramatic learning process … and yet still engage their own senses in the site. The only thing I’ve been able to come up with as a solution to this is to write something that’s humorous, and in that way, engage. The strongest link is to talk about some of the design work and some of the processes and to help people secure for themselves that joyous interaction that they can also have here.

Jenn:     I would love to read that. Please write it.

Mary:   Okay. Let’s hope there comes the day when that does happen. … Maybe a garden’s never done, so maybe I’m fooling myself, but in my own work here, I’m looking for a certain measure of completion before I walk away, and we’re still outside of that. The other cool thing about this place for me, being a COA graduate and all, is it has been a very active ecosystem that also needs protecting … . When I first started here for instance, the pond was routinely breaking out in these algae blooms right in the middle of spring bloom, and we were able to get that under control. I know what the components are for that water management, and I learned them. The next person will have no clue of that, so that sort of thing actually is crucial to communicate because once again, the learning curve on that is horrible. Once you’ve put too much phosphorous in this system, you’ll spend five, six, seven years undoing the damage.

Jenn:     Things like your strategy for the moss along the pond side.

Mary:   Yeah, stuff like that. Actually, that would be fairly easy to make drawings and to provide for other people.

Jenn:     But I think it would be key to pass that on, because otherwise people are going to come in and just not know.

Mary:   Yeah, I know, and all arts are like that. Things that are difficult, when it becomes art appear effortless, and that’s what you’re looking for. You never want to be in a garden where you’re witnessing the gardeners struggle. … We always look for ways to avoid using signage, ways to avoid using anything that detracts from the experience here … so we’re subtle as much as possible. That’s gotten challenging, as you might imagine, because every year we have more visitors than the year before. …

The technologies that are needed will also shift because [we are moving] from a garden that saw an 80°F day only on occasion to one where we’re seeing 80° days over a two week period. … We can’t use the grass seed types we were using before. They all give in to red thread now, and the moss went through a horrible period of being decimated by a fungus, and now the scotch pines along the road are taking their turn with brown spot. I’m expecting that to be devastating.

There’s going to be a lot of learning that we’re still doing as we adapt, … and it’s going to take a certain amount of resolve to initiate the new design work that will be needed to have plantings that are more long-term. That’s the way the new work is, and in some ways, it just shines a light on the strength of the old work again.

Jenn:     Well, it’s an incredibly special place.

Mary:   Yes, it is. That’s one thing that’s amazing is the way that every day, … every single day it seems to me, somebody comes up to me and says, “You know this is my favorite place. … I’ve seen gardens all over the world and I still love this place the most.” I always feel that way, but when strangers come up and say that, that’s just incredible.

Jenn:     I think one of the reasons that the malleable strategy you’re using here [is so successful] is because the garden is almost more of a mood than a physical place. I’m not expressing it well. It’s like a mood made three-dimensional.

Mary:   Yeah. It is. Like I was saying before, there is a sort of naturally graceful yet energized reality here. I can’t tell you what that is. I know that it’s here and I know that everything that we do is meant to augment it, but I don’t really know what it is. … I experienced a couple of gardens in Japan that were generating more … perceived awareness than what the physical features would have suggested. … Somehow they are conveying more spirit than the elements present, and … I’m still trying to understand. Is that something that only comes from the site itself, or can designers create that? …

Jenn:     It would be interesting to look at those sites and see who is taking care of them.

Mary:   Who’s behind them, exactly.

Jenn:     I wonder if it isn’t an intense feeling on the part of the designers and the people who keep it going.

Mary:   Or it could be an engaged reverence emanating from the participation of spiritual persons, … because the two locations I’m thinking of, both were housed within an active spiritual tradition.

Jenn:     Which ones? I’m curious.

Mary:   One of the sites is Giōji, which on the surface appears to be a small temple with Buddhist statues and a large moss area adjacent, so in other words, there’s almost nothing there, and yet as you walk through that site, you just cannot believe what you are feeling.

The other one is the ‘South Sea’ of Daisen-in. … [It’s] nothing but an area of empty raked sand with a couple of sand mountains at the end, and somehow the empty raked sand [gives] this unbelievable spiritual experience. This is something I can’t explain. It’s this overwhelming sense – I’ve been to Japan three times [and] it might be that I’m only now receptive to engage at that level, and so the next step … the only way to begin to unravel that mystery would be to learn Japanese and to speak to the people engaged in those three sites and to trace that history back. Was this site sacred going back 1,000 years? The most likely answer is that it is a dual participation between humans and the site … but I don’t know because I don’t speak Japanese and I haven’t been able to find anyone else speaking about those elements in the way that I perceived them. Japan interests me in this other way, which is beyond the visuals. There’s something much stronger that’s beyond the visual work here, and what is it? This garden naturally contains aspects as well.

Jenn:     The only time I felt something like that in Japan – I visited a lot of the gardens in Kyoto … – but the one place where I really felt it was in the forest around Ise.

Mary:   I didn’t go to Ise. Oh, it makes complete sense that it would be at Ise.

Jenn:     It didn’t even matter that there were a thousand other people walking with me. … It’s the [ancient] forest around the shrine.

Mary:   And you can’t explain it. … There’s an inner sense that we don’t have language for that allows us to perceive the strength of a given landscape, and we, those who’ve been engaged in landscapes, can probably readily feel it, but even people who haven’t, people who’ve never paid any attention to gardens, they’re experiencing it too. We don’t have a language for it. I think that … what we really mean by genius loci [Ed.note: “spirit of the place”] is that the person who’s working on the site is in fact receptive to the energy that is there on the site, and not only that, the site is exceptional. Whether it has visual features that are exceptional or not apparently is almost irrelevant. … [It’s] an earthly gift of some kind, an earthly expression that cannot be seen, it can only be felt. … Well, that’s quite an in-depth talk here!

Jenn:     Thank you so much.

Mary:   We really, really dove in deep, which is really nice. I can’t think of any other, or very few situations where that really comprehensive perspective comes forward, so my appreciation to you to bring this opportunity.

Jenn:     Oh, well thanks.

Mary:   I’ll set you with a task.

Jenn:     Okay. …

Mary:   I’ve always been really curious about Chief Asticou’s interaction with Asticou and also with Native American traditions where this natural stream system meets the ocean down there. I don’t know enough about that, and I just, I figure that some of our strength goes all the way back to that period, so I have a curiosity about that, and if you uncovered anything in your journey, I would be really interested to find out.

Jenn:     It is definitely something I’m looking into. I’m trying to find the right people to talk to about it.

Mary:   It’s pretty nice where the stream exits there.

Jenn:     Yeah. I went down that path for the first time last week. Did I tell you I saw a seal?

Mary:   Oh, no kidding!

Jenn:     Yeah. It was kind of out in the harbor there.

Mary:   How completely rare. Oh my God, that’s awesome.

Jenn:     Made my day.

Mary:   We’ve had an otter that has showed up here on occasion, so we’re always happy about that. They don’t like to be here when there’s a lot of people, but early in the season and late in the season, they do show up.

Jenn:     I love otters.

Mary:   We still have the big freshwater mussels.

Jenn:     Really?

Mary:   They’re still here in the pond. …

Jenn:     Holy cow.

Mary:   I know. Isn’t that something? …

Jenn:     Wow. … That is huge. Where did you find that guy?

Mary:   It turned up … on the edge of the pond and we kept it because it’s a good indication. I think that was after the dredge, too, that we found that.

Jenn:     That’s really impressive.

Mary:   Yeah, it had survived that.  …

Jenn:     [Catching sight of the new stones.] Oooh!

Mary:   I know. Can you believe it? These are such high quality.

Jenn:     Wow.

Mary:   This is a type of stone – this is the earth’s crust that has been exposed for millennia and you cannot get this from stones that are deeper in the ground. There are a few hints in the Japanese literature. One is ‘don’t use a stone that’s dead,’ and I think what they mean is one that is from deep in the ground. You need living stones. These are definitely living. Then the second is ‘don’t install a horizontal stone vertically, nor a vertical stone horizontally,’ … people tend to take that to mean you want it to look a certain way aesthetically, but what I take it to mean instead is you use the stones the way the earth created them. [Ed. note: the way they weathered in their original positions.] [For] this stone, this was the top. [Pointing to the weathered upper surface.] You can see as you look at it that this was the connection. This is the root. [Pointing to the unweathered part that was buried.] This is the top. It will be installed in that way.

Jenn:     You can see right where it was buried. … On a technical note, how on earth did you move them without scraping or losing the moss?

Mary:   We did have help from Freshwater Stone. They used a boom truck, and it was in the snow. … It snowed the night before. Only … a couple inches, but it made it a challenging day!

Jenn:     I’ll bet. There’s not a single scrape mark.

Mary:   This guy is Dock, this guy is Boat, and this guy is Swan. Everybody gets a name. … Here’s our azalea nursery, these are all from seed, this group, and there’s our pitch pine nursery. They’re all from seed. The seed was collected by a squirrel. We found it in our boots and we planted it. The pine cones were literally stored in a boot and we were like, “Okay, it’s time to plant pitch pines,” and there they are.

Jenn:     Little pitch pines are the cutest things.

Mary:   I know. They all grow quickly. We’ve almost emptied out all our vaseyi. You can see the little bit that’s left, that whole bed was full. We did an invasives-to-natives project at the south gate where we took out Norway Maple, Barberry, Honeysuckle and Euonymus and replanted vaseyi.

Mary:   … I’m hoping that after these 12 [stones] come in that we can sort of switch gears away from the stone work and start bringing in the blueberry and the heath and the other things that will really make the stones have that mountaintop aspect. We’ve had to be patient. We’ve been waiting for enough [stones] to come to the site. …

We changed topics and talked about public access to the shoreline.

The beginning of the Asticou Stream Trail, Northeast Harbor

Jenn:     Yeah, and over here we’ve got Thuya Landing and the Asticou Stream. I’m very grateful for them.

Mary:   True, and are you aware that it used to be Azalea Garden property, but now it’s Land and Garden Preserve property … across the road and following the stream?

Jenn:     No, I didn’t. I thought it was Village Improvement Society.

Mary:   They’re the ones that have done the work on the trail, but it actually is owned by the Land and Garden Preserve. It literally follows the stream down, so it’s kind of narrow, but in Charles Savage’s writings back in 1958, he was proposing two more ponds leading down to the harbor.

Jenn:     Ambitious.

Mary:   Yeah, God. I’m almost glad they didn’t get built. We’ve got our hands full. … It’s an interesting perspective, isn’t it? To be not only engaged in a project that moves forward, but to also see what didn’t move forward.

Jenn:     Yeah, the ideas that were rejected or at least didn’t happen.

Mary:   Exactly. There’s this unfulfilled potential there. That’s kind of exciting. The Village Improvement Society, they just updated the trail system and the steps going down and the bridges … .

The Asticou Stream Trail, Northeast Harbor

Jenn:     It’s a really pretty trail. I can’t believe I’d never been down it before. …

Mary:    Oh, and the other thing it allows me to do is, oftentimes when I’m leading a tour here I can see that people are interested in what the site looked like before Mr. Savage started – I send them across the street because that is the native untouched site right there.

The Asticou Stream Trail, Northeast Harbor

Mary:   That’s incredibly helpful for people to understand what it takes to create a place like this. A garden like this, obviously we want [visitors] to think that it all happened because it wanted to, not because people were behind it. [It has] this naturalistic and yet beautifully formed style. It has the distinctness in the layering and it has a lot of the strength that would occur naturally on a mountaintop – that would’ve been provided by wind and shallow soils in that location but here is provided by people. [Visitors don’t] realize that pitch pines would not naturally occur here. It’s nice. It’s really lovely to have that contrast.

Jenn:     Well, it’s a fantastic place. Thank you for sharing it with me.

Mary:   Oh, thank you so much for coming to ask. What a treat. … I look forward to hearing all the stories.

Jenn:     Thanks! All right, I’d better get going.

Mary:   Onward with our day!

 

WORKS CITED

Baldwin, Letitia S. Asticou Azalea Garden. Mount Desert Land & Garden Preserve, 2008

Baldwin, Letitia S. Thuya Garden. Mount Desert Land & Garden Preserve, 2008

Lamb, Jane. The Grand Masters of Maine Gardening. Down East Books, 2004.

Takei, Jiro and Keane, Marc P. Sakuteiki Visions of the Japanese Garden: A Modern Translation of Japan’s Gardening Classic. Boston, Tuttle Publishing, 2001.

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Coast Walk 19 addendum – Asticou Stream Trail

I know, I know, it’s a little unorthodox to have an addendum to Coast Walk 19 when, technically, Coast Walk 19 hasn’t happened yet. Here on the blog, I’m still stuck a mile or two away trying to contact property owners along Roberts Point and Wheelwright Way so I can start Coast Walk 18. However, in real life, two of my interviewees mentioned the Asticou Stream Trail so on the morning of October 6, 2017, I checked it out.

The trail is also known as the Asticou Brook Path, and since the signpost has both names I’m going with the biggest sign)

 

The path starts just across Peabody Drive from the Azalea Garden and winds down to the harbor through a little stream valley running along the edge of the Asticou Inn property.

It’s part of the Land & Garden Preserve, but is maintained by the Northeast Harbor Village Improvement Society.

It’s not a long trail – I think if you walked straight through you’d reach the shore in 10 minutes. I, of course, rarely manage to walk straight through anywhere. There’s too much to look at:

Slime mold or puffballs? I’m still trying to figure it out.

The only thing I’ve found about its history is a note on the Memorials of Acadia National Park blog: “Gordon Falt [was] a 20-year Path Committee chairman. His memorial, which is alongside the wooden steps descending east from Main Street via Old Firehouse Lane to the harbor’s parking lot, states: Gordon H. Falt, Devoted Designer of the Beauty of this Village and Staunch Sustainer of its Trails. 1900-1981. Among the trails he built was the Asticou Brook Trail.” So it must have been built sometime before 1981. Tell me more if you know the trail’s history!

The day I visited, a seal was lolling around out near the Thuya Landing. Too far away, but I took a photo anyway to prove I saw her:

A loon was flying back and forth, very busy about something.

The view back toward the stream mouth:

You can walk along the shore a little way, and then the path continues back up through the meadow to meet Route 198/Harborside Road.

 

 

WORKS CITED

Lenahan, Donald. “Northeast Harbor’s Schoolhouse Ledge – a Place for a Peaceful Hike,” Memorials of Acadia National Park, September 5, 2012. acadiamemorials.blogspot.com/2012/09/northeast-harbors-schoolhouse-ledge.html  Date accessed: January 10, 2017.

 

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Interview: Tim Garrity – Fernald Point and Norwood Cove

Tim in the archives of the Mount Desert Historical Society.

 

On October 5, 2017 I joined Tim Garrity, executive director of the Mount Desert Historical Society at the society’s headquarters in the old Sound School House. You may remember Tim from Coast Walk 13, when we found the remnants of the old Village Improvement Society trail near Hunters Beach. We’ve had some interesting discussions about how historical narratives change over time, and I asked him if he’d talk about two local stories that hover between history and legend.

Tim:     What you would like to [talk about] today?

Jenn:    You had mentioned either Norwood Cove or Fernald Point.

Tim:     Yeah.  Fernald Point … is often cited as the site of the Jesuit mission of Saint Sauveur in 1613. But it has never been proven. Proof would entail the finding of archeological specimens … that would indicate the presence of a French mission there. But they may not exist. They may have been pretty scarce in the first place because the mission only lasted a few weeks and might not have left much evidence behind. … The French had made a choice. Rather than build fortifications, they would make a garden to feed themselves. And without fortifications, they, a) left no archeological evidence and, b) were easily defeated by the English force … from the Jamestown Colony in Virginia. From 1613 until about 1858, a period of about 250 years, the location of the Saint Sauveur mission, the exact place, had been forgotten. What happened in 1858 is that the … Canadian government, published the Jesuit Relations. They are the letters and memoirs of the Jesuit missionaries over a period of over 100 years, including the letters of Father Pierre Biard, who was the lead French Jesuit missionary on the expedition. He wrote back to his Jesuit superiors in Paris to defend the fall of the mission and to explain his efforts at missionizing the Indians, and learning their language, and talking about their ways of life, and described in detail the site of the Saint Sauveur mission and its fall.

These had been … hidden away in archives in Paris … in manuscript form for a century and a half, and became popularly available in the French language with the publication of the Relations in 1858. One of the readers of this new publication was Elijah Hamlin of Bangor, an attorney, the brother of Abraham Lincoln’s vice president, Hannibal Hamlin. He read the accounts that described the location of the Saint Sauveur mission and interpreted that location as Fernald Point. Hamlin’s interpretation was picked up by Francis Parkman, who was then America’s most eminent historian. And Parkman published the location in 1865 in his book France and England in the New World. That was a runaway history best-seller. And it popularized Fernald Point as the location. This in turn was picked up by others because Parkman was so wildly popular as a historian. And with the first suggestion that Fernald Point was the location of the mission, we start to see “evidence.” Purported evidence is found there at the site.

“St. Sauveur mission, Mount Desert,” ca. 1866, by Eugene Vetromile. Image courtesy of Maine Historical Society.

One is a map drawn by another Jesuit priest Father Eugene Vetromile, an Italian who was also missionizing Indians in the Bangor area. He came there in 1860, and he drew a map that showed the remains of the fortification, showed the grave of Brother Gilbert du Thet, who died in the attack.

Jenn:    Forgive me, that’s 100 years later? …

Tim:     No, Vetromile comes by 250 years later, after the site is “shown” to be the site of the Saint Sauveur mission and he draws a picture and a map of what he calls the remains of the fortification and the grave of one of the Frenchmen who died. It turns out we have a photograph of this area from atop Flying Mountain that looks down on Fernald Point, and it shows that what Vetromile thought was the remains of the fortification was actually the foundation of a barn that was standing on the site.

We know from the history itself that the French built no fortifications, and that if there was a memorial to Brother Gilbert du Thet, as Vetromile drew it in the shape of a stone cross, somebody had put it there [later] to represent the grave.

The Norwood Cove Object, Southwest Harbor Public Library.

Detail of the Norwood Cove Object showing shell casing band, Southwest Harbor Public Library.

We [also] have the Norwood Cove object that was said to have been found in 1921 and presented to the Southwest Harbor Public Library, where many people interpreted it as a dagger that was a remnant of the mission. It turns out that actually that’s a piece of trench art from World War One [Ed. note: made from an empty shell casing] presented by somebody who had been there. An American serviceman who lived in Southwest Harbor knew the story.

Also, this tradition was picked up by the founders of [Acadia National] Park, who were eager for the new park to have French associations because in their pitch to Congress to make this place a park, they cited its unique geographic location …, its healthful … wild lands on the edge of the Eastern megalopolis …, and the third and final thing they cited was its historical significance, to which they pointed to Fernald Point as evidence of the French mission and exploration.

Much of what we think about Fernald Point may or may not be true. There are historians who are willing to argue the point. The problem is that in his letter, Biard said that the mission was, in the French, ‘separé’ – ‘apart from’ – the island of Mount Desert. Parkman cited this, and he said that Biard must’ve been mistaken. In other words, Biard didn’t know where he was. But that’s really unlikely because even though it was a new place, Biard had been there in 1611 with Champlain. He knew perfectly well how the island was put together. It’d been mapped, identified, so there was no mystery as to where he was.

Other more recent scholars, often Canadian, because they don’t have a stake in Acadia National Park being associated with the French, say it was more likely in a place like Lamoine. It answers the description better. And also it turns out that plenty of places on the coast of Maine answer to a very similar description of Fernald Point – facing the southeast, a field rising up to mountains. It matches a lot of descriptions.

There have been many archeological studies of Fernald Point. Most of them have been directed at the Indian middens or shell piles that are on the shore. But no one has ever turned up a true artifact of the mission. There is a tantalizing little possibility, and that is a report of the Bangor Historical Society in 1911 that reports on items lost in a fire at the Bangor Historical Society, one of which was a weapon of French design found at the site of the Saint Sauveur mission. So if you want to hang on to that, there’s still that out there.

Jenn:    I actually find the – how should I put it – the history of people’s desire for that to be the location [just] as fascinating as finding the original location would actually be, maybe more so.

Tim:     I agree. I’m reminded of the Paul Simon song “The Boxer” and of the lyric, “A man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.”

Jenn:    Exactly.

Tim:     And I just heard this week at a lecture at UMaine that after Bram Stoker published his book “Dracula,” there were vampire sightings all over Europe.

Jenn:    I’ll bet.

Tim:     And after … I’m forgetting the name of the poet. A New England poet became aware of an artifact … of a man found in a grave postured in a sitting position with a suit of armor. It also was lost in a fire, but a modern interpretation is that this was likely the grave of an Indian warrior. But it was interpreted at the time as a Viking’s grave. [Ed. note: Longfellow, The Skeleton in Armor.]

Jenn:    Oh yeah.

Tim:     And subsequent to the publication of that poem, there was … a rise of Viking sightings – of runes, inscriptions on stones, and remnants of Viking ships. Even, in the 1930s, the finding of a Norse coin near Naskeag Point in Brooklyn on the Blue Hill Peninsula, which modern scholarship calls into question as very possibly it had been planted there by the archeologist who claimed to find it. The best interpretation is possibly it arrived there – it’s [something] like a 15th century Viking coin – it very possibly arrived there through trade, not necessarily as a Viking site.

Maine Penny: Minted in Norway between A.D. 1065 and 1080, this small silver coin was excavated at the Goddard site in Penobscot Bay, Maine. Photo courtesy Maine State Museum

So, yeah, I think there’s a real pattern of suggestion giving rise to observations that are just not really set in reality.

Jenn:    People really want to believe.

 

Tim: Yeah. And the fun thing about this one is… Ralph Stanley … remembers Christopher Lawler and called me up and he said, “I knew Christopher Lawler, and this sounds exactly like something Chris Lawler would do.”

Jenn:    Is [Lawler] the one who gave the artifact to the Southwest Harbor?

Tim:     Yeah, he’s the one. … And Ralph says that he was a practical joker. He tells many stories of what a sense of humor this guy had and how big and boisterous he was and that this really is in keeping with the kind of thing he would have fun doing.

Jenn:    Now we just need to find a note in which he wrote it down.

Tim:     Yeah.

Jenn:    We need to find his diaries: …”Played this fantastic practical joke.”

Tim:     Yeah, if only … Though I got a call from, [someone who] talked with the son of Christopher Lawler, who is 92 and lives at the retirement home in Orono, who says that he remembers his father finding this thing. But … I don’t think the dates work out. … If he is 92 and this thing was found in 1926 or 1921, he’s just not old enough to remember it.

Christopher Wendell Lawlor (1893-1956)

Tim:     Well, … that’s my Fernald Point story. Norwood Cove, I would really have to read up on it a little bit. I have similar doubts about that – it’s just I have my suspicions of the story as it’s told-

Jenn:    About the battle?

Tim:     … about the battle of Norwood Cove and the casualties and the Tenedos, the British ship. It is said that they took multiple casualties there, the British, like five dead. I just attended a lecture at the University of Maine that points to the Gale resources, [about] 26 million documents from the 17th and 18th century of Britain, all the newspapers. I would like to look up the British side of that story because it smacks of legend. Have you heard of much of this story?

Capture of the USS President by HMS Tenedos and HMS Pomone, 1815. Painting by Thomas Whitcombe [Image found in a chat room, couldn’t find a more reliable source. http://www.kenthistoryforum.co.uk/index.php?topic=15588.0] I think the Tenedos is the second largest ship.

Jenn:    I’ve heard that, was it Captain Spurling from Cranberry Island? had left a boat in Norwood Cove, and the British were coming to destroy it, and there was kind of a Paul-Revere’s-ride of people going from Southwest Harbor to gather defenders.

Tim:     I think that’s part of it. Let me … I think I can get to it.

Jenn:    The British were requisitioning or destroying all the fishing boats is how I heard the story.

Tim:     Yeah. And I think the most complete account was by George Street in Mount Desert; a History. So let’s look up Tenedos. … Yeah. You may have this story as well as I do.

“In August 1814, a British sloop of war sailed in the Eastern Way and anchored in the deep water between Bear Island and Sutton. … The chief man on Great Cranberry was Captain Benjamin Spurling … . Two of his vessels were at that time hid up in Norwood’s Cove … . When Captain Spurling saw the masts of the Tenedos looming up over Sutton’s Island, he knew the intent of her coming. … He rode over to the ship and tried to dissuade those in command… . The British officers replied very truculently that it was their commission to burn Yankee vessels and he should go with them and see them burn. They wanted him for their own protection, thinking the people would not fire at him when they saw him. Spurling warned them not to enter the cove, saying he had three sons over there who could shoot a duck on the wing. … Meanwhile, two young men from Great Cranberry rode over to Southwest Harbor and traveled all night through the farms and hills to the other side of the mountains sounding the alarm. All night long, men were hurrying singly or in squads to the scene of action. … Jacob Lurvey, a veteran soldier of the Revolution, … had one musket, and that his son Isaac, 18 years old, had marched away with in the night. Toward morning, the father himself, who had long been sick in bed, grew restless and finally got up and began to dress. ‘What are you thinking of, Jacob?’ cried his wife. ‘You, sick man, going down to the fight.’ And then, to head him off utterly, ‘What could you do without your musket? Isaac’s got that.’ ‘Yes, I’m going. By this time some of our men have been wounded, and there’ll be a musket for me.’ Old John Richardson, another soldier of the Revolution, … was deaf as a post, yet heard the summons, … and so came down the slope on the north side of the cove in full view of the British in their barge. His neighbors called to him not to expose himself … . He heard nothing and apparently feared nothing, for singly there behind a rock he loaded and aimed at the enemy, who finally thought to annihilate him with a charge from a shotted gun, which threw up the earth in a mass of turf and stones and dust, in which brave old John disappeared to reappear again after a while, loading and firing as if nothing happened. The battle proved to be short in duration and at very short range. In the early dawn of Tuesday, August 9th, a 12-oared launch full of men with a swivel gun in the bows left the warship and drew in towards Clark’s Point. … The militia were in the dense thicket along the shore, … when the form of the brave Captain Spurling was seen in the barge, … one of his sons, Robert, rushed out on the high rocks … . His plea was most earnest to have his father spared. The officer bade his oarmens lay to their oars, and ordered the old captain to be crowded down in the bottom of the barge. There the soldiers walked over him, or on him, as best suited their mood, until he raised himself up and said he might as well die in one way or as another, and cried back to his son and the men on the shore, ‘Never mind me, Rob. I am an old man. But give it to these dashed Britishers as hard as you can.’ … The militia fired from behind some natural breastworks covered with a thicket above. This enabled them to rest their guns, pick their men, at the same time to be themselves unseen. The reply from the barge’s pivot gun, though meant to be most sweeping and devastating, went wild high overhead, breaking branches, hitting rocks, but wounding no one. Even the British musket fire, aimed at men behind trees on the south side of the cove, filled the trees with bullets but hit nobody. Isaac Lurvey for years afterward showed the tree he had stood behind, riddled with 17 bullets above his head. It soon became evident to the British commander … that his men were simply targets for the marksmen … and that he had wholly underrated their capacity for defense. So he ordered his barges to draw off with their killed and wounded. It was noticed that five instead of 12 were at the oars as they rowed away. As to the losses of the British, the only data we have is the testimony of two boys, who, like boys of today, were apt to be around when not wanted, using their eyes. These boys … had gone aboard the Tenedos to sell raspberries. They were on board when the defeated barge came back with its dead. They saw seven lifeless bodies raised by tackles and slowly let down into the hold of the ship. On the American side, the only damage was that Captain Samuel Hadlock had two fingers grazed by a bullet.”

So I was in London, and I noticed that there is an inscription on a tablet on one of the chapels [at] Westminster Abbey. To the left there’s a little chapel that isn’t so crowded, and it’s filled with these tablets, and people buried in the floor and so forth. One of them describes a fight like this. It was in Maryland, and it takes note of the English wounded and the young officer that was killed [who was] slain and buried in this chapel. It was a big deal to lose seven men in a fight of this kind. And I would love to check the British side of this story. What was the journey of the Tenedos?

Jenn:    There must be records of that.

Tim:     There must be records, and I think William Otis Sawtelle did some research in London at one point and didn’t come up with much. I think Sawtelle wrote about this. And now that this resource is available at the University of Maine, I wonder if there were any newspaper accounts. There were many, many ships named the Tenedos … in the British Navy…

Jenn:    Why? What’s it mean?

Tim:     I don’t know what ‘tenedos’ means. It kind of sounds like a common root with ‘tenacious’ or ‘tenement’ – ‘holding.’  …

Jenn:    I just wonder why it’s a popular name. It seems odd.

Tim:     Yeah. There’s a British museum, too, in Greenwich, a naval museum. It would be great to really dig in and find out.

Jenn:    Yeah, that would be really cool.

Tim:     Because this sounds … This is a one-sided account. What was the account on the other side, and what was going on? What was the larger context? It really deserves a more thorough understanding than the one I have.

The HMS Trincomalee – according to one source, Tenedos was an identical Leda class frigate.

Jenn:    I could really easily get distracted by [researching] that –

Tim:     Yeah. That’s the wonderful thing about this job is it’s so easy to get distracted.

[Ed.note:  And to nobody’s surprise, I did in fact get distracted and this post was delayed while I went hunting for more info on the Tenedos:

1. It turns out that Tenedos is a Turkish island near the entrance to the Dardanelles. It’s mentioned in the Iliad as the base of the Greek fleet during the Trojan War, and also shows up in the Odyssey and the Aeneid, so perhaps the 18th century British ‘classical education’ accounts for its popularity.

2. According to Wikipedia, the name comes from the Greek hero, Tenes, who ruled the island during the Trojan War.

3. Also from Wikipedia: “HMS Tenedos was a 38-gun fifth rate launched in 1812. She was used as a convict hulk from 1843 and was broken up in 1875.” There’s a much more detailed but completely unsourced and unattributed history of the Tenedos’ military career here: http://www.kenthistoryforum.co.uk/index.php?topic=15588.0 – scroll down past the first few entries.

4. The Southwest Harbor Library published The Battle of Norwood Cove in 2014 – it contains a bunch of re-tellings of the story by various locals over the past 200 years, as well as a very brief excerpt from the ship’s log and an account by William Begg, the assistant surgeon on the Tenedos. According to the British, nobody died.]

Image from The Battle of Norwood’s Cove by Riebel and Rich

Tim:     Yeah. We have a tradition of having themes for Chebacco. In 2018 [it’s] the material culture, and [2019] is history of religion. We have two guest editors who are professional scholars of religion who summer in Southwest Harbor; they’ve lined up [an] array of authors. Our job in 2019, [is] going to be pretty easy. But I’ve got nothing for 2020, though it would make sense to focus on Maine’s bicentennial. And a story like this would be really fun to pursue.

Jenn:    Yeah. Particularly if the documents have been digitized so you don’t actually have to go to London anymore.

Tim:     Yeah. Or maybe it’s possible…

Jenn:    You “have” to go to London, yes.

Tim:     “Have” to go to London. Stay in a hostel, yeah.

Jenn:    Do they have grants for things like that?

Tim:     Maybe.

Jenn:    That would be pretty cool.

Tim:     I think it would be awfully fun.

Tim:     Maybe this is what I need to pursue. After the Norwood’s Cove object, I felt a little bit adrift on my historical studies. I need something to dig into. … I try to look behind some of those stories, like the Norwood Cove object. …

Jenn:    The one thing that does ring true about that [story] is how the British couldn’t hit anyone. Because they were on a boat! How the heck would you fire at anything from a [small] boat and hit it with a handheld musket? [Unless the water was very still, I suppose.]

Tim:     And also this story of island resistance. I’d like to know more. I really need to read up on the War of 1812, because I think that the islanders were in a tough place. Are they going to support those boys selling raspberries to [the British]? To what extent was their collaboration or cooperation with the British? What was the national picture like for the War of 1812?

Jenn:    It sounds like … It’s like a local story that is just the tip of the iceberg of a much bigger story.

Tim:     Yes, which often they turn out to be. [That’s] the reason that we try to work so closely with University of Maine and College of the Atlantic because we try to bridge this world of local history. … What the world of professional historians encourages us to do is to acknowledge the context and connections – to contextualize these stories. That’s something that we are constantly trying to do. I have a lot of work to do to try to understand that story a little better.

Jenn:    It tells you a lot about who people wanted to be or how people wanted their ancestors to have been, like the idea [of] what the islanders’ identity was – independent, sharp shooters, self-defense –

Tim:     Patriotic.

Jenn:    … banding together, … us against them.

Tim:     … the old deaf man.

Jenn:    I love that, yeah.

Tim:     Mr. Richardson firing away, these wild guys-

Jenn:    Stubborn.

Tim:     … bearded, stubborn.

Jenn:    Stubborn comes up in that quite a few times.

Tim:     Just like the Norwood’s Cove object and how it reflects what present-day historians or writers were writing [about] history, it strongly reflects the viewpoints of their present day. So this is 1905 … How did Americans … How did the sophisticated academic cleric – retired, high-church cleric – George Street, how did he wish to view the islanders?

Jenn:    Right.

Tim:     It kind of reflects … the ideal archetype of an islander … that was depicted in Charles W. Eliot’s John Gilley of Baker Island.

Jenn:    Yeah. They’re stubborn. The old people don’t take no for an answer. They stand up for themselves. They band together, islanders as a community.

Tim:     I think this might be my project, Jennifer. I’ve been floating around looking for what’s next. Maybe this is it.

Jenn:    That’s awesome. I look forward to hearing what you find out.

Tim:     Yeah. I think I’ll start digging.

Jenn:    Cool!

 

Thank you, Tim!

 

WORKS CITED

(The Jesuit Relations) Relations des jésuites: contenant ce qui s’est passé de plus remarquables dans les missions des pères de la Compagnie de Jésus dans la Nouvelle-France. Quebec: A. Côté, 1858.    [1896 English translation available online here: http://moses.creighton.edu/kripke/jesuitrelations/]

Eliot, Charles W. John Gilley, Maine Farmer and Fisherman. American Unitarian Association, Boston, 1904 [Also published as John Gilley of Baker’s Island, Applewood Books, 2005.

Parkman, Francis. France and England in North America. 7 volumes published between 1865–1892.

Rich, Meredith and Riebel, Charlotte. The Battle of Norwood’s Cove: Southwest Harbor’s Victory over the British in the War of 1812. Southwest Harbor Public Library, 2014.    [Full text here: http://swhplibrary.net/digitalarchive/items/show/10888]

Street, George E. and Eliot, Samuel A. Mount Desert, A History. Houghton Mifflin, 1905. [Full text available here: https://archive.org/details/mountdeserthisto00stree

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Interview: Earl Brechlin at the Asticou Inn

Prologue: for folks who haven’t seen the Coast Walk lately, I received a Kindling Fund grant this year to help with the cost of transcribing interviews. Usually I talk to people while we are hiking a section of coast, but I need to use up my grant by the end of the year, so just for this fall I’m interviewing people wherever and whenever they are willing to meet. I’ll present the interviews to you as they happen, and tie them back into the Coast Walks when I pick up that thread again.

The view from the Asticou Inn.

On October 3, 2017, on a cold, sunny morning (40ºF), I sat down to breakfast with Earl Brechlin at the Asticou Inn. Earl was, until this fall, the editor of the Mount Desert Islander (and the Bar Harbor Times before that), so there’s not much happening on the island that he hasn’t heard about. He’s also a Maine Guide, a historian, a collector of antique postcards, the author of several books about Maine, and as of September, the Communications Director for Friends of Acadia.

Jenn:    Thanks for meeting with me. I have to admit I’m really nervous about interviewing you.

Earl:     Really?

Jenn:    You’re an actual journalist.

Earl:     [Former journalist] now that I left [the Islander] for Friends of Acadia. As a journalist I always get nervous when I’m interviewed because I know how many ways it can go wrong.

Jenn:    Well good, maybe you’ll take pity on me then if I start going wrong!

Earl:     Well no, actually you’re one person I was comfortable talking with so I didn’t worry about that.

Jenn:    Phew! Let’s see, I guess the first thing is how did you end up on the island? You’re from Connecticut originally?

Gorgeous wallpaper in the Asticou dining room.

Earl:     I met friends in college who had always come here and who had worked here summers and so I decided to try it out one summer. I came down and I worked as a bartender in a restaurant – bartender and waiter – and I just fell in love with the place.

Jenn:    Yeah.

Earl:     I went back to school in the fall up at the University of Maine, Orono, and said ‘how can I structure my financial aid and my classes to just get done next Spring and move to Bar Harbor?’ I wanted to live there, I didn’t care what I did for a living. I studied forestry and resource business management and I just decided that … that’s where I wanted to spend my life. And it wasn’t until about 10 years after that I realized that I had family ties from here.

Jenn:    Really?

Earl:     My mom spent her summers on Swan’s Island and my grandfather, her father, is first cousin to Ruth Moore, the writer. … Esther Trask and people over in Bass Harbor are relatives [but] it wasn’t until after I moved here that I found that all out … . My grandfather used to pull traps by hand on a Friendship sloop with his grandfather out of Swan’s Island.

Earl’s grandfather, Carl Foster, on his own lobsterboat. Carl fished out of Muscongus and Round Pond in Midcoast Maine.

Earl:     I went to do a story on the Ruth Moore dig out on Gott’s Island for the newspaper and Esther Trask was my grandfather’s first cousin … . She came along and as we were leaving the island she pointed to a house up on the hill on Gott’s Island and she said that was her grandfather’s house. And then I got a chill because I realized that was my grandfather’s grandfather’s house. … And then on my dad’s side, the family [is] Burgess out of Belfast – Abby Burgess from Matinicus Light was actually a relative.

Jenn:    No kidding?

Earl:     So I had a lot of ties in Maine that I didn’t even realize.

Jenn:    So it’s kind of kismet that you ended up here.

Earl:     Yeah I think so. I think people end up where they want to be, I mean how did you end up here?

Jenn:    Let’s see, so Brian and I started dating in college, and we moved out to California together and loved it. We were in San Francisco for four years. … I [was] volunteering at Strybing Arboretum [and the people I worked with] kind of steered me into landscape architecture.

Earl:     Nice.

Jenn:    Yeah, and so Brian had, like, every computer geek’s dream job – he was at Ziff Davis Labs back when they did all the testing for all the computer magazines. Something got invented and they put it through its paces. … And the deal was he would leave Ziff Davis so that I could go to grad school, if we moved to Maine afterwards.

Earl:     That’s a fair trade.

Jenn:    Well at the time I was kind of like, … I loved visiting, but I was not really sure what I was going to do in Maine [to earn a living.]

Earl:     Yeah.

Jenn:    And so we had a friendly competition, we would move wherever in Maine the first one of us got a job.

Earl:     Okay.

Jenn:    And he won, he got a job at the [Jackson] Lab, so we came back here. And you know, I’ve never looked back.

Earl:     Yeah.

Jenn:    … I grew up in a small town, so it’s not that different. But I had been so ready to get the hell out of that small town, I couldn’t imagine moving back to one. I loved living in Boston and San Francisco.

Earl:     I bet, how nice. And so you feel like you belong here?

Jenn:    Yeah. I’ve lived here longer than anywhere I’ve lived, even the place I grew up.

Earl:     … I’ve had conversations with Jock Williams, who builds boats, and we’ve talked about ‘how did you end up on the island,’ and he said ‘I came here because this is where you came to build damn good boats.’ And so we would talk about that difference between finding a place you love and making a life, or going someplace to do what you love and making a life. And so it’s same destination, just different pathways to get there.

Jenn:    And I’m at a point where I’m doing what I need to do to live here. I figure out ways to earn a living.

Earl:     But you’re an artist too.

Jenn:    Mm-hmm. Unfortunately I don’t earn a living doing that.

Earl:     No, most artists don’t. Most writers don’t make a living writing.

Jenn:    Yeah that’s what the weekly rentals are for.

Earl:     Yeah exactly. … a few years after Roxie and I got married and built the house we have now, we built a cottage there which our family uses and we rent out by the week. And that money goes into that account and that’s what the tax check gets written out of.

Jenn:    So what did you do when you first moved here? Did you go straight into newspapers?

Earl:     No, I worked for the Colket family as one of their gardeners.

Jenn:    Oh no kidding!

Earl:     I had come down here and the first job I got was to be a breakfast cook at the Golden Anchor. I knew that was only part time, I needed something year-round and I heard about this caretaking gig at Kenarden so I went down and talked to them and that was year round, full time, so I went back and quit before I started at the Golden Anchor. I worked for the Colkets for almost three years with the head gardener, Harold Hayes, who grew up here and had worked for three generations of that family. And so I learned a lot of history … .

Italian Garden at Kenarden ca. 1910. Photo courtesy of the Jesup Library via Maine Memory Network.

Earl:     And Harold was pretty good, he said, ‘You don’t want to be the head caretaker here or anything like that so what are you doing with your life?’ I thought, ‘Well that’s a good point.’ And the Bar Harbor Times had an opening in the print shop – in Connecticut you always took printing, drafting, wood shop, metal work, as part of your junior high school training just to see if you had an aptitude for it or an interest in it … . We had a little letterpress in our basement because the company that made all these presses and type and everything … was based in Meriden, and we knew this family. We printed business cards, menus for pizza restaurants, we did all that kind of, little side hustle thing. And so I went in, I showed [the print shop] I knew how to handset type, …so I got a job in the print shop running the letterpress.

Jenn:    Wow.

Earl:    I said to myself, ‘You know, I could do this the rest of my life, it’s good productive work and [there’s] a sense of accomplishment.’ As a matter of fact, I used to print Caspar Weinberger’s party invitations. … He was always worried about hippies invading his parties, this is back in the 70’s, and so what he would do is for parties in California, he’d have the invitations printed in Maine and for parties in Maine he’d have the invitations printed in California, figuring nobody would leak any of them.

Jenn:    Right.

Earl:     But I had a camera – I was always interested in photography – so I was taking some pictures, and then they started to use [my photos] in the newspaper, and they started having me take pictures for the paper, and then I started doing the editorial dark room for the paper and … making all the prints, much to the print shop manager’s chagrin. Then there was a reporter opening and I didn’t apply because I’d flunked every English course I ever took.

Jenn:    Really?!

Earl:     Pretty much. Not every one, but I just really didn’t care. And so I didn’t apply because I didn’t think they would ever consider me. And the man who owned the paper at that time, Dick Saltonstall …, he came down to the darkroom and he said, ‘You know, I think you’d make a damn good reporter, I’m going to put you on the editorial staff.’ And that launched a 37-year career in newspapers. So that worked out.

Jenn:    It must’ve been a good feeling, but it must’ve been a little bit terrifying too.

Earl:     Oh it was. The first day, or the night before the first day, I was like, ‘What do you find to write about every week?’ And I was intimidated by that, but I hit the ground running and from that first day I never wrote all the stories I wanted to, there were just so many great stories out there.

Jenn:    Yeah.

Earl:     When we started out, we were using typewriters, and ‘cut and paste’ was literally cut and paste – you cut your stories apart and moved the paragraphs around, stapled them together and sent them down to typesetting. And then paste columns of copy onto pages to make the newspaper. So a lot of technology changes since then.

Jenn:    It’s funny, I remember when I was in high school we had to take typing classes, everybody, guys, girls, sophomore year thing. …

Earl:     Yeah.

Jenn:    And of course, by the time I graduated college, we were all using Mac SE’s. Do you remember those?

Earl:     I do. I remember TRS-80s, too.  My father insisted I take typing. … And back then there were only people on the business track or the secretarial track and I was in a class of 35 kids, big rows of typewriters, and I was one of only three boys, it was all girls in there learning typing. And I was in the way back and I had a Royal 550 Selectric, beautiful electric typewriter, only one row of electrics. And then I got goofing around too much and for the final exam, the teacher made me move to the front row because I was fooling around with the girls in the back too much, so I ended up having to take my final on a manual.

Jenn:    Oh God.

Earl:     So it dropped me a letter grade but … Yeah and I always thought that was crazy, my father he insisted I do that and then I didn’t use it for years but it all came right back.

Jenn:    Yeah. It’s a useful skill. I can still mostly type without looking, which comes in handy.

Earl:     Well it was liberating to compose at the typewriter, and try to compose your story so that you didn’t have to cut it all apart. I remember when we first got the first typewriters where you could just back space and the white out would cover it.

Jenn:    Yes!

Earl:     And still, to this day, when I decide to change a sentence I backspace to erase it rather than highlight and erase. … Once we got computers and you could move entire blocks of type, that was a liberating experience too. Because you’d be typing along and you’d get a thought that you wanted for the next part of the story and maybe it didn’t go there but you got it out of your head, … you didn’t lose anything ….

Jenn:    You never know where your life is going to take you, do you?

Earl:     No Bar Harbor has been great, I had a great career in newspapers, I’m working at a great organization now, and I got married and built a couple homes and had some side businesses, and get to hike whenever you want right out the door.

Jenn:    You know what drives me crazy though, is finding the time to go hiking. I live in the middle of one of the most beautiful places on earth and I don’t have time.

Earl:     Well I have … debates with friends that work in Washington, DC; they come here and they get to spend a month on vacation. So do they spend more quality time here being a month on vacation versus living here year round, when you have to work so much and so hard to make it work here. It’s not an easy place to live climate-wise, it’s not an easy place to live economic-wise.

Jenn:    No.

Earl:     So which is the better method? I don’t know, like driving over here today and seeing the ponds and looking out this morning at the frost and everything else, those are all intangibles that you’re not going to get living 11 months in Washington.

Jenn:    Well I made my choice.

Earl:     Yeah.

Earl:     I think when I look at being in the newspaper business, as you well know, the best stories never made it into the newspaper.

Jenn:    I’m sure.

Earl:     Or the juiciest stories never made it into the newspaper. But at the same time, we dealt with people on their best days and then dealt with people on their worst days – I was just talking to someone the other day, there was somebody who was working at the national park and was under investigation for misuse of travel funds and it’s somebody I’d known a long time. So there was no joy in putting that in the newspaper … but that person’s still my friend to this day. And that ability to say, ‘Look I had a job to do, I didn’t take any joy in it, and also I didn’t revel in your misfortune.’ … When I first started the newspaper business they had just started doing Police Beat.

Jenn:    Oh really?

Earl:     And for years, the Shea family, they didn’t write about the police news and they certainly didn’t put names of people who got tickets in the paper, or the court news in the paper. And that was something that [changed] and there was a lot of pushback on that from the bad guys, there was a lot of intimidation. In those early years I had my tires slashed, I had the windows smashed out on my car and the camera stolen, I had my garden shed … set on fire.

Jenn:    Oh my God!

Earl:     The editor before me had kerosene poured down her well. It was a little more of the wild west in that respect. I went to a chamber of commerce meeting one night, came out and had four flat tires – two shingle nails in each of the four tires. … We had our windows BB’d on the office, bag of cat shit on the steps and the lock was spiked with a nail so you couldn’t get your key in the lock one morning when I showed up for work. And then the tires … .

Jenn:    Wow, it sounds like, well I kind of knew, but you see a side of the island that I’m pretty insulated from.

Earl:     Well, I think as editor, you have to be able to go out on some billionaire’s yacht and have dinner with him and then you’ve got to be able to go down to the pier and talk with the fishermen. And luckily when my uncle retired from the Navy, he and my grandfather built a boat and they went lobstering down in Muscongus Bay and I used to go with them, so I’m familiar with lobstering – I’m not familiar with billionaire finance, but … that was one thing people had said when I left the newspaper. They said, ‘Earl … you don’t think you’re going to get asked out on billionaires’ yachts if you’re not editor of the paper’ … . I said, ‘Maybe I’m okay with that.’ That’s not what I live for, but to be effective and for your institution to be effective you need to be able to move in all those circles comfortably. … And so some weeks you get a coffee-stained place mat [with] Stevie Smith’s chicken-scratch for a letter to the editor, and the next one would be from David Rockefeller, so you don’t know.

Jenn:    No.

Earl:     And that’s something you get on this island you don’t get anywhere else. I really think the socio-economic brackets mingle and mix here more than almost anyplace else, a lot of those artificial distinctions, those institutions like separate clubs and separate organizations, they’re not as stratified as other places. I don’t know if you’ve felt that way.

Jenn:    … I think that people are very aware of the class distinctions, they’re very aware that they’re mixing.

Earl:     Yeah, yeah you’re right.

Jenn:    But they still mix.

Earl:     … Some of the, we call it ‘older money, ‘that I got to know, when they come up to the island they’d just as soon get ahold of everybody they know from the island and hang out with them. They’re not into the whole every-other-night blue blazer cocktail scene. I noticed that you’ve given talks at the Northeast Harbor Library before and whether you’re done or not, they’re out of there at seven because they’ve got a party to go to.

Jenn:    Yup.

Earl:     You know, this is their ‘what I do before the cocktail party’ and boom, at seven, they don’t want to be late and they’re out. … And that’s okay, but when I worked for Tris Colket, before he had his stroke, of course, he belonged to the fire department and he had a turnout here and his boots and his coat and his helmet in his vehicle and if he was there at his house and the fire was called in, he went and fought the fire. I was pretty impressed by that – why does a guy with that much wealth care? And he and Ruth always cared about the community.

Jenn:    Yeah.

Earl:     At the same time – this illustrates that little dichotomy a little bit – my friend Lisa … bought this rowboat and we spent the summer painting it and cleaning it up. It was like a 10 or 12 foot rowboat; we kept it at the town pier and we’d just go row around the harbor or go out to Sheep Porcupine or something. So we’re out rowing around one day and Tris comes in on, he had this 28 foot Bertram with a flying bridge and all this stuff.

Jenn:    Yeah.

Earl:     So he’s coming into Frenchman’s Bay Water Company to get some fuel. And he’s coming in the channel there and he sees me and he starts waving and he yells, ‘Hey Earl!’ And I was like, ‘Hey Tris, how are you doing?’ And then he gestures to the harbor and says, ‘Which one’s yours?’ Naturally assuming we’re in a rowboat because we’re rowing out to a bigger boat.

Jenn:    Right.

Earl:     And I just looked at him and I said, ‘This is it, and it’s hers!’

Jenn:    That’s awesome.

Digression: Me being me, I went looking for some of the articles Earl talked about, hoping for some photos to illustrate this post. Turns out the Bar Harbor Times has been digitized up through 1968, but from 1968 to the present, it’s on microfilm. Have you ever used a microfilm reader? I’d almost forgotten what a pain in the butt research used to be before the internet. Just in case you’re one of those people who thinks things were better in the past, let me walk you through this:

You have a spool of film, on which are images of each page of the paper. You put it on the spindle at left, thread it through the machine to the other spool, and then turn the knob at far right to make it scroll.

The blue and grey gears are for enlarging and focusing. (It doesn’t focus very well because the machine is pretty much an antique, nobody makes parts for these anymore, and the library has to trawl eBay looking for used parts to repair it, so it is what it is.) There’s no index, so if you don’t know the date of an article, you have to scroll through every page of the newspaper for the whole year in which you think it might have appeared. I started out hunting for the cartoon Earl is going to mention soon, which must have been published in 1986 or 1987, so I started with a reel of papers from November 1986 through May 1987. Never found the cartoon, although I did find a photo of the protest he talks about, but after two hours I discovered that if you get impatient and scroll too fast you can make yourself seasick. So yeah, no articles to illustrate this post. Sorry, there are limits to my obsessiveness. Next time I’ll try the attic where they have bound copies of the paper.

Earl:     One of the things, in talking with folks in the National Park, too, is trying to get them to understand that the people that live here do have a different relationship [from] the traveling public to the Park. We feel a greater sense of ownership because that’s … our backyard, that’s the only place we have to go. Downtown Bar Harbor’s surrounded by ocean and Park. There is a greater sense of ownership and a greater sense of concern when rules change or fees get imposed or any of that kind of stuff just because it’s a larger portion of our lives than it is for everybody else. … It’s funny when the entrance fees were first imposed, five dollars per car per week, Gerry Paradis was the President of the Chamber or Commerce and he got up to speak at the meeting where they were talking about the fee, and it was one of the funniest lines I’ve heard ever, he goes “I’ll tell ya one thing … you charge them five bucks, they’re going to want more than rocks and trees.”

Jenn:    That’s a good one.

Earl:     Woody Woodworth was our cartoonist at the paper then, so we did this cartoon of a ferris wheel on Otter Cliff. But there was a chief ranger then, Norm Dodge, he’s passed away now, and he came up with this genius way to kind of wash the local dissent on the entrance fees. You got a sticker for the whole season back then, [and some locals] could get free stickers. And just like a dump sticker that says Bar Harbor, which announces to the world that you’re a citizen of Bar Harbor [which] is a badge of honor in a small town, … those Acadia stickers [showed you were connected.] They gave them to every volunteer fire fighter, every volunteer in the park, every municipal official, they gave everyone that worked at the newspaper one in case we needed to run out for something, including the receptionist and the drivers. So if you couldn’t get one of those free stickers, you were as unconnected as you were. And they did that for years, and basically it took the critical mass of people that would complain about the entrance fees, and silenced it. It was 10 years before they stopped doing that because it was really getting out of hand, they were giving out a thousand stickers.

Jenn:    When did they stop doing that?

Earl:     It was a couple years after Norm left so it’s probably been 10 years ago now.

Jenn:    I don’t remember the free stickers, I guess I wasn’t connected back then.

Earl:     Yeah, you could buy a sticker.

Jenn:    I did buy a sticker. I always buy my park pass.

Earl:     Norm had this spreadsheet of who could get it or who couldn’t get it and you’d just have to go to the ranger station there and get your sticker. Or like for the paper, we had 14 people on our list and they would just give us the 14 stickers and we’d pass them out every year. I think Chamber of Commerce members got [them], everybody that could possibly be in a position to drive in, you got a free sticker.

Jenn:    That’s awesome.

Earl:     Yeah.

Jenn:    I was a good doobie, I just paid my 10 or 20 bucks whatever it was. It always seemed [reasonable], it’s still what like 40, I think for the year?

Earl:     It’s up to 50 for the year now, but again it’s an acknowledgment to the local folks – that half price sale that they do. For [the Pajama Sale], and they do it for Midnight Madness, and they do it for the whole month of December. They don’t do that in other parks, that is something that Acadia does and the regional hasn’t cracked down on that. And to me, that’s a heartwarming acknowledgement that there is a special relationship between the towns and the Park here and that they’re basically saying you don’t have an excuse not to get a pass.

Jenn:    Yeah, and that’s how I feel.

 

“Park Protest,” The Bar Harbor Times, Thursday, May 7, 1987. The only relevant article I found on the dratted microfilm.

Earl:     So Norm Dodge was quite the character, the chief ranger. They were going to install the entrance booth down at Sand Beach to start taking the fees, and a guy named Milan Tait from Bucksport took out a permit for a protest march to protest the booth and the fees in Acadia and all this kind of stuff. He estimated 2,000 people, so the plan was they were going to march from the ball field in Bar Harbor out Schooner Head Road to the Park. And then TV cameras were going to show up and they’d have all this to say in front of the tollbooth. Well they had advertised they were going to do this march. Norm was in charge of installing the tollbooth and this first one was just this prefabricated thing you sat on a slab. So Norm scheduled the installation for two days after the protest so they wouldn’t have anything to stand in front of. I went down there and I’m waiting for the protest march, … [a local guy] shows up on his motorcycle and goes up in the trees and goes through the leaves and he pulls out this chaise lounge, and he sits there like this, he’s waiting for the excitement to start.

Jenn:    Uh huh.

Earl:     And then he fishes around in the leaves right next to it, and there was a beer that he’d hidden the night before so he pops open the beer, and he’s having a beer and all of the sudden this van pulls up and Milan Tait, two people in their 80’s and two kids get out.

Jenn:    Oh my gosh.

Earl:   They realized that [no one was] going to walk all that far from the Athletic Field, so they just drove down in the minivan and then they stood there looking around, there was nothing to stand in front of and they just went away. It was pretty funny. … But [that local guy] was waiting for the excitement, he had stashed that stuff the night before, so I thought that was pretty good.

Jenn:    2,000 people.

Earl:     Yeah. Well so I went down thinking if they got 200 it’d still be a picture but …

Jenn:    It’s hard to get people to show up.

Earl:     Yeah, how did the vigil [go] last night, did people go to that? [Ed.note: memorial vigil for the Oct.1 shooting in Las Vegas.]

Jenn:    Yeah, we had about 25 people.

Earl:     Oh nice. You know, I’ve been a newsman forever and I shut the TV off yesterday morning, I just couldn’t watch it anymore.

Jenn:    I stopped looking at updates around noon.

Earl:     It’s like crack cocaine or pulling a lever on a slot machine, you keep watching, hoping for one new fact, one new fact that’s either going to be some good news or one new fact that says why, and that doesn’t happen.

Jenn:    You know what really got to me, is they showed aerial photos and like the hotel is here and the place where the people were, it was so far away.

Earl:     Yeah.

Jenn:    I’m like what? That’s a military weapon, why is it civilian hands?

Earl:     Yeah.

Jenn:    Why are those even available?

Earl:     Yeah, I don’t disagree.

Jenn:    That’s not self defense, that’s not hunting.

Earl:     Yeah, I’m a guy and I own firearms, … and I have friends that own weapons like that and it’s almost like a ‘snicker snicker,’ getting away with something to have one. And you can go on the internet and for 50 bucks buy a kit to turn it to full automatic and do it yourself. …  I just don’t understand that, I don’t know why there isn’t an NRA for responsible gun owners, that’s not so rabid.

Jenn:    Yeah.

Earl:     And that’s another example of why we’ve got to get the money out of politics, it doesn’t matter whether it’s healthcare or whether it’s guns. Somebody, I think it was Colbert, pointed out, ‘Hey look why is it that this guy has a right to have all those guns but for the 500 people that were wounded, getting treated in a hospital is a privilege?’ … That was one of the reasons I left journalism – running a newspaper you have to sort of stand in the middle of the street and say, ‘You guys got good points, [and] you’ve got good points.’ And the more I’m standing there I’m like, ‘No they don’t.’ I’m tired of it and I’m tired of having to do middle of the road because there’s some really clear black and white, right and wrong here. … The whole thing now is, ‘Now is not the time to politicize guns or talk about gun control.’

Jenn:    And yes it is, this is exactly the time.

Earl:     Yeah well, a plane crashes, we talk about aircraft safety.

Jenn:    Yes.

Earl:     A bridge collapses, we talk about bridge safety.

Jenn:    Mm-hmm.

Earl:     59 people get killed and 500 injured by guns, ‘Now is not the time to talk about gun safety.’

Carl Roger Brechlin. Photo from the Moose River Camping Club website

Earl:     My twin brother passed away several years ago, and to honor and him and his son who had committed suicide a few years before that, [we] had these coins made up. … You can have that one. I have more, so I give them to people.

Jenn:    Oh, thank you.

Earl:     Yeah, so … it commemorates Carl – he always loved the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. And he lived at 42 Sandy Lane so that’s the 42, and then the star was for his son. And so anyway, what we do is if you’re on a hike or on the Appalachian Trail or you’re up in the Park or Baxter, you leave one of those coins in kind of an inconspicuous spot and then people come along and find them. And then they take them home and they look it up [online] and there’s a legend of the coin and what they represent and then there’s a link to his obituary so you can read about his life. So anyway …

Jenn:    All right, so I’ll have to find a good place to leave this.

Earl:     … They’ve been all over the world, they’ve been to Machu Picchu, they’ve been to Ayers Rock in Australia, they’ve been to Antarctica, they’ve been to Tahiti, they’ve been all over the United States, every national park. They’ve been to the highest mountain in Kosovo, they’ve been to Stonehenge. And people take pictures of the coins.

Jenn:    Oh cool.

Earl:     Carl ran an auction house in Connecticut … so the whole idea was that we would keep putting these coins out … until the day that one day came back in a box of stuff to be sold at the auction.

Jenn:    Oh no way! Did it come back?

Earl:     It did. … It took eight years and this spring … – my nephew runs the family auction house now – a couple from New Haven came in [with] a box lot of coins and right on top of it was one of those. And Ryan went to them and said, ‘Don’t goof on me,’ because they’re people he’s done business with before. And they said, ‘No, we bought it out of a house … down in Stanford or something,’ and so that was the whole idea, the full cycle of life and the full cycle of material goods and everything else. So we’re still putting them out but the prophecy has been fulfilled …

Jenn:    Closing the circle.

Earl:     It’s also a way for the people that have come before you to salute the people that come after. … People pick it up and take it, you don’t consider it litter.

Jenn:    Yeah, it’s got a nice heft to it.

The Moose River Camping Club logo.

Earl:     Yeah. … Now Carl passed away in Harper’s Ferry on a rafting trip with a bunch of us – just had a blood clot went to his brain and he was gone. They said [even] had it happened in the emergency room they couldn’t have saved him. So anyway, what was ironic was, about four years after we started this, I got an email from a woman in Portland who’s head of the main Appalachian Trail club …, saying that one hiker had shown one of those to a steward at one of the lean-to’s and they notified headquarters and she wanted to say while that was a great promotional item for our camping club, it was littering and we were not to put those out on the Appalachian Trail.

Jenn:    Oh no.

Earl:     And so I put on the website, ‘Don’t leave these on the Appalachian Trail;’ now people leave tons of them on the Appalachian Trail because they feel like they’re sticking it to the man … . We had started a group we called the Moose River Camping Club 30 years ago and … we do a backpacking trip and a canoe trip every year, the same group of guys and family and everything. And so that’s what the MRCC stands for.

Jenn:    I think it’s a beautiful idea.

Earl:     And the irony was, I don’t know how many people I know in the National Park Service [who] had taken them all over the world and left them. And they didn’t see a problem with it.

Jenn:    Yeah. Well I guess when you’re in charge you have to be a little more …

Earl:     Yeah that’s true, and that’s fine and I don’t want to stick it in their face, but [if] you look up littering in the dictionary it says, ‘To discard something of no value.’ … And it’s like well, those have value because people pick them up and take them so obviously they value them. I put one on Nesuntabunt Mountain in the middle of the 100 Mile Wilderness on the [Appalachian Trail] here in Maine when I was on a hike … four or five years ago. About two weeks later I got an email from a man in Quebec – he and his daughter hadn’t spoken for years and they decided to go on a trip in the 100 Miles to … patch their relationship up. … It was a hot day and they got up to the top of the mountain and they found the coin and he said, ‘It’s become a marvelous memento of our getting back together.’ Can’t argue with that.

Jenn:    Sounds like a little bit of magic.

Earl:     It is a little bit of magic. So they didn’t see that as littering.

Jenn:    No. I think there’s a difference between littering and leaving something deliberately for the next person.

Earl:     Yeah it’s like leaving a note. … You look in the lean-tos on the trail and there’s registers where people leave notes and say ‘Hey anybody seen Corn Dog’ or whatever Appalachian Trail name, or ‘I was here’ and that kind of stuff. It’s the same kind of thing.

Jenn:    Yeah. So have you hiked the whole Appalachian Trail?

Earl:     No I’ve done pieces of it. I’ve always section-hiked; I’ve done three nights, four days here and there but I haven’t done the whole trail.

Jenn:    That’s still pretty cool, I’ve never been on it.

Earl:     Yeah, well I’ve done Mahoosuc Notch which is the toughest mile, that’s here in Maine. Then you have the 100 Mile Wilderness – there are roads through there but no stores – so that’s the longest section without resupply on the whole Appalachian Trail. And it’s a great resource, I’ve done parts of Connecticut, Massachusetts, New York, New Hampshire, Vermont, so I’ve done a lot of different sections.

Jenn:    Oh, which reminds me, I wanted to ask you, how did you end up becoming a Maine Guide?

Earl:     Well we started this group and we were doing all these trips and I would get all the food together and plan a menu for 16 people for five days and do all the cooking and all that stuff and the guys said, ‘You’re really a guide, you ought to just get your guide’s license.’ I was a Boy Scout and always did a lot of camping and stuff so I went through the process and passed the background checks and did the written test and went to the oral boards and got the guide’s license.

Moose River Camping Club excursion to Mooselookmeguntic Lake near Rangeley, 2013.

Earl:     I’ve always just been recreational, I haven’t used it for a lot. I’ve taken people on adventures, like taking people on guided snowmobile trips and day hikes and then film producers that are looking for location guides and stuff like that. But I haven’t done it … full time. I’ve wanted to do basic wilderness skills for beginners, and I had talked with the paper company about leasing a spot on the lake that you could canoe to and set up camp for a few days and then teach people mapping, compass, cooking, first aid, woodcraft, those kind of things because I think there’s a lot of people that didn’t learn that as kids. If you’re, say, taking people on Allagash trips, eventually you get a lot of customers that are ‘experience collectors’ – they’ve rafted the Nile and climbed Kilimanjaro – and they want to tell you how to do your job. I want people that are scared that if they don’t do exactly what I say they’re going to die. That’s the kind of people I want to take into the woods. What about you, do you do much camping?

Jenn:    Not anymore. I was a Girl Scout, did a lot of camping as a kid, and when our kids were little we did more. We used to go up to Baxter every year, then I started having trouble with my shoulders. I can’t sleep on the ground anymore. I just can’t.

Earl:     Yeah.

Jenn:    So it’s cabin camping for me.

Earl:     Yeah.

Jenn:    And when the kids hit high school we couldn’t go away for a weekend anymore – they were so busy! But both Brian and I have been talking about when the kids are out of college we can kind of put the house on hold or the rental part on hold and get a little trailer, do the go-visit-all-the-national-parks-thing.

Earl:     … Roxie and I have talked about getting a little 18-footer, nothing real big, and just go for three or four weeks at a time … . I think it’s a fun thing to do.  … I may have to get scramming here because I’ve got to work today, is there anything else that you wanted to ask or …

Jenn:    No, [but] I was right, you did have some awesome stories.

Earl:     Well that’s great, I appreciate the chance to chat.

Jenn:    And thank you so much for coming. [Laughing] That sounds so formal. “Thank you for joining me today.”

 

RESTAURANT REVIEW

In case you were wondering about breakfast at the Asticou Inn, it’s a buffet, and I think it was $15. The pastries were great, the potatoes were very good, the eggs were pretty darn good for a buffet, the bacon was kind of limp, and the coffee was good. No popovers at breakfast, though, phooey.

 

WORKS CITED

Adams, Douglas. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. New York: Harmony Books, 1980.

“Park Protest,” The Bar Harbor Times, May 7, 1987.

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