Sunday, February 1, 2015

Family History Writing Challenge - Day 1

Originally written in 2012, mom encouraged me to make this my first post, to provide some context to the ensuing stories. I am pleased to report however, I did write 270 words today, but am not sharing that at this time. 

On February 17, 1927 my mother flew in with “Lucky Lindy.”  Calvin Coolidge was president and life in the town of Lubec was life as usual.  My grandparents lived in a rented “bungalow” just below the big church on the hill in town.  It wasn't until my mother was 6 or 7 years old the family moved to South Lubec.

Each summer my parents would return to Lubec twice or three times, traveling the same route from Connecticut.  As a child in the backseat with my grandmother, tales of life in Maine were exchanged to pass the time.  My grandmother had standard comments now ingrained in my psyche for time and memorial.  Belfast: There was store there associated with the one she worked at in Connecticut.  Ellsworth: “I remember when Cadillac Mountain burned, you could smell the smoke and it smoldered for months.”  Route 189 in Trescott: “Look at the skyline of spruce.”  West Lubec: “I remember walking to the water tower.”  And lest I forget, Number 9 Hill, where if a car could make it up the hill in high gear, it was a good car.

Although my mother left Lubec at age 14 upon the death of her father and moved with her mother and brother to Connecticut, her memories, along with my grandmother’s, compelled me to move to Maine.  I have lived over half my life in this wonderful state.  When asked if I would ever return “home” meaning Connecticut, my reply is “No.”  I blame this on my mother, who year after year inoculated me with “Fundy Fever.” 

This  is a compilation of those stories presented in a both factual and fictional manner.  The pictures painted for me as a child are the basis of what I am calling fiction or better, embellished.  While writing these memories, I would read each night to my mother what I had written that day, for she is my editor and fact checker.  Often these sessions yielded more information; I only hope this work of creative non-fiction clearly conveys the pictures she drew in my mind.

See you tomorrow - J

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