Thank You Notes

I believe Robert Fulghum, the author of All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, is a luminary because he focused our attention on Albert Einstein’s guiding principle that imagination is more important than knowledge. Fulghum wrote, “I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death.” In my heart of hearts, I am also convinced that lessons 13 and 16 on Mr. Fulghum’s list of things learned in kindergarten are the most vital: “When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.” “And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned – the biggest word of all – Look.”

Whenever I am in Bath, I like to walk along Front Street and stroll through Waterfront Park. Surrounded by beauty, I strongly feel the need to LOOK because I fear in a blink I may miss a moment of this heavenly place. Of course, it wouldn’t feel like heaven if I were by myself. I love to see the bubbles of people at work and at play in downtown Bath. This cool little city is a community of vibrant people who know how to stick together. It’s easy to strike up a conversation here because the shoppers and shopkeepers, the artists, tradesmen and chefs, the tour guides, teachers and students are happy and ready to share their talent and their stories. Bath is always humming, and everyday life along the Kennebec makes me want to whistle, but I don’t know how to whistle, so I am making a joyful sound on this keyboard, and I hope all the playful members of Bath Time Society hear my tune and tap their feet right along with me. I suspect that most of the Bath residents I have met were superstars in kindergarten. They are definitely creative and fun loving people, and this blog is my way of thanking them for making such a cool little city possible!

Needless to say, I didn’t learn all of my life lessons in kindergarten. I did in fact learn a lot from my Brownie troop, and that is probably because my mother was the leader. Without a doubt, my mother’s common sense influenced me more than Einstein and Fulghum’s combined genius. I should also add that my mom was the best whistler I have ever known. Her favorite song was You Are My Sunshine. Okay, I have strayed, but the Brownie lesson is important: “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.” Following the Girl Scout rule, I invited my “old” friends to visit me in Bath, and they came! I have always been grateful for their company, but never more than this past summer. Joni, my friend of over 30 years, came up to Bath from Westford, MA to spend a few days! We were girls again ---giggles and flip-flops---at Popham Beach!  And Kathy, my BFF from the College of the Holy Cross, joined me for the Maine Maritime Museum’s architectural heritage tour. Once aboard the trolley, we met Judy Mansfield, our volunteer docent (and a great supporter of Sagadahoc Preservation, Inc.). For one magical hour, Judy, a retired teacher and an exceptional storyteller, took us back in time to the 19^th century, and we all listened like school children to the the family sagas of the original shipbuilders who first made this little city cool! What a hoot! Later, Kathy and I dined at Grey Haven’s Blue Restaurant in nearby Georgetown.

 But best of all, that night Kathy played the role of  “dog whisperer” and managed to quiet our family dog, Penny, and my daughter’s puppy, Moo. It’s not surprising these two canine pals fell asleep on the couch as they listened to The Art of Racing in the Rain because Kathy is a kindergarten teacher!

Bath is clearly teacher friendly! Perhaps that’s why I feel so at home here. Several of my neighbors are teachers, and amazingly a few of them are fluent in Spanish, so on occasion we enjoy chatting about the artisans of Oaxaca as we care for our gardens. I am grateful for all the conversations I’ve enjoyed with Peter and Susan, and Shelley, too. Life in Bath Time is simply educational! Heidi, my first friend in Bath, recommended a morning eco tour aboard the Horizon III to celebrate my birthday and entertain my family. Since Heidi is an accomplished college professor, I decided to take her advice. On a glorious mid-summer morning, seven family members and I boarded Captain Brooks’ 35-foot pontoon boat, and together we discovered that the best view of Bath is from the water. We also learned a lot about the life of the Kennebec River. I spied a harbor seal at play, and for the first time in my life I caught a glimpse of a bald eagle. Doubling Point Lighthouse, built over the marshes of Arrowsic Island in 1898, was another spectacular sight, and I must admit that its light was more romantic from the water than from the shore. For a moment, we all felt the fair and stormy winds of history. I don’t think I will ever tire of touring around Bath, its nearby islands and peninsulas in a boat!

In the City of Ships, river safaris and starry nights are par for the course, but Friday nights are especially entertaining! For the last few seasons, I have been experiencing ArtWalks in downtown Bath, and my appreciation for art has been forever enhanced. On one frolicking Friday night, my friend Jill accompanied me to the studio of Judson Pottery, which sits like a bird’s nest atop several flights of stairs in one of Front Street’s taller buildings. Jill and I kept following the signs upward until at last we opened a door and fell into Carolyn Judson’s unique view of our planet. As I surveyed the open space around me, I was reminded of an old Donny and Marie song: “A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock and Roll, but I felt a need to “Judsonize” the title: “A Little Bit Mid-Coast, a Little Bit Savanna.” Clearly, Carolyn Judson has been to Africa, and she knows how to sculpt magnificent, large animals, like elephants! I think Jill and I both thought we were entering a different dimension, and it was enormously refreshing. Carolyn greeted us personally and engaged us in deep conversation. Within minutes, I learned that she had once lived in Brooklyn, New York, my birthplace, and in addition to painting and sculpting, she loves to teach! 

Shortly after that discovery, I met Carolyn's talented student, Nan Moran. As fate and Bath would have it, Nan is the sister of Mary King, a previous owner of our home on Washington Street! This is not just a coincidence; rather, it is proof that people in Bath are connected and know how to hold hands when it counts the most! I believe a close, loving community is a powerful blessing, and since I felt blessed that evening at the pottery studio, I bought the most cheerful daffodils I have ever seen in clay, and they were sculpted by Nan Moran. These sunny flowers now hang in the entrance hall of our Maine house, and they always make me smile when I come down the stairs!

Truth be told, the people of Bath know how to relax on Friday nights. Whether they are kicking back on the Kennebec, or forming a circle on Carriage House Lane for chili, cheese and wine, they are enjoying each other’s company. Joe and I are missing this Friday night’s celebration, but we will be there in a few short weeks, and we are looking forward to shaking hands with our neighbors! Last summer, Shelley, the kindest, fairest neighbor of them all, suggested I visit the Healing Garden at Mid Coast Hospital because she felt it was one of the prettiest gardens in Maine, and she thought I would appreciate the flowers there. Well, I found that garden, and I learned a valuable lesson: a hospital surrounded by evergreen trees and nurturing a garden at its heart can indeed offer us peace. Anticipating November and a time of thanksgiving, I hope we will always be able to see in our mind’s eye the wildflowers of summer, and the loving people who brought them to us. 

Thank you!

  

Legends of Washington Street

When the autumn breeze begins to blow, I feel like a child, and I want to catch the falling red and yellow leaves and gently press them between the pages of a treasured book, like

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, written by an Irish author, Josephine Leslie, under the pseudonym R. A. Dick in 1945. Leslie’s romantic fantasy tells the story of a young widow, Lucy Muir, who struggles to chart a new life for herself and her young daughter in a cottage by the sea in Whitecliff, England, which happens to be 58 miles south of the English city of Bath. Two years after its first publication, it was made into a timeless black and white film that is still enjoyed today. Gene Tierney, a serenely beautiful American actress, brought the character of Lucy Muir to life, and Rex Harrison, a dashing British actor, gave a second chance at love, if not life, to the ghost of Captain Daniel Gregg. When Mrs. Muir loses her fortune and fears that she will have to leave Gull Cottage and be forced to live with her overbearing in-laws, it is Captain Gregg who saves her by helping her to write a best selling novel, Blood and Swash, based on his own seafaring adventures.

Even though the clever dialogue between Captain Gregg and Mrs. Muir is quite dazzling in the novel, the 1947 movie version of The Ghost and Mrs. Muir truly touched my soul. Watching this movie classic with my husband, after planting a few mums and finding the perfect pumpkin for the front step, was a Sunday afternoon delight. Under an October sky, saints, sinners, sea captains and ghosts seem to appear all around us, but it is all part of the season. We are in an October state of mind! For me, the best part of a ghost story is the ending because that is the moment when you face your fear, see the truth, and breathe again. It’s also the best time to lean in and listen to someone’s heart. It’s uncanny how fear, whether real or imagined, seems to bring us closer together! In 2013, John J. Puccio, a movie critic for Movie Metropolis, described The Ghost and Mrs. Muir as “director Joseph L. Mankiewicz’ 1947 postwar love letter to the world.” In Bath, where I always long to be, I know that master story tellers are warming up their voices to whisper ghost stories, and just like the residents of Whitecliff, England, Bath historians know scores of legendary sea captains, and it doesn’t have to be Halloween or All Souls Day for them to tell their stories.

Not unlike Mrs. Muir, a sea captain’s widow used to live in our house on Washington Street in the late 1800’s. Abigail Page Magoun, a native of Bath and the sister of the city’s first mayor, married Captain William Henry Duncan on October 3, 1844. He was 36 years old, and she was 26. The captain was a widower with one son at the time of his marriage to Abigail, and his career as a mariner was going well. Records show that he commanded at least 6 ships in the middle of the nineteenth century. To name a few, he was the captain of the J.P. Harward, built in 1844, the Asia, built in 1855 and the Platina, built in 1838. City records show that Captain Duncan sold a house on South Street, formerly owned by a Patten, a prominent shipbuilding family in Bath, on August 5, 1854 for 1,000 dollars. A city directory shows Abigail Duncan living on Washington Street in 1873. According to ancestry.com, Captain Duncan resided at the same address from 1871 to 1872, the year of his death. Of course, this begs the question, have I felt the presence of the ghost of Captain William Duncan? Truth be told, I do not appear to be spirit sensitive because I have not experienced a single encounter. Perhaps the captain’s ghost could not stay in the Maine house because the master bedroom was built with witches’ corners facing the river so spirits could pass through quickly. With or without friendly ghost corners, I prefer to think of Captain Duncan as a courageous man who was ready to move on toward the morning light. In 1872, Captain Duncan had a clear view of the Kennebec from the master bedroom window, and he could see the sailing ships docked along the river’s bank in the bustling shipyard along Front Street. It’s uplifting to imagine him passing through that bedroom window and sailing away on a white cloud surrounded by a sea of blue sky. Records show that Mrs. Abigail Duncan stayed in the Federal Colonial on Washington Street, near Cedar (now Holly) Street, until 1877. I suspect she was sad when she finally left the house, and just like Mrs. Muir she glanced over her shoulder for one last look before departing. Although I am not spirit sensitive enough to see ghosts, I do feel happy and peaceful in our big, old house. The entrance hall with its turning staircase and exquisitely crafted banister, is my favorite place to stand on a sunny afternoon. In my heart, I believe that every former owner for the last 150 years has stood in that same hall, looked up, and admired the work of the unknown carpenters who built this stately home. There is so much art in the construction of an old house. I certainly understand why Lucy Muir couldn’t bear to leave Gull Cottage!

Around the corner from our house on Washington Street, there’s a cottage worthy of Mrs. Muir, but today it is both the home and studio of Claudette Gamache, a master painter who captures the white cliffs and breaking waves of Popham Beach as well as the wildflowers that frame the Kennebec River with her pastels. I first met Claudette last summer when I was walking my dog, Penny Lane, and our meeting was indeed fortuitous. We were standing near the Galen C. Moses house, one of the most historic inns in Bath, and Claudette told me she once lived in the white house across the street, the one with the striking red door. I was not surprised when she told me she was an artist and was living and painting in the cottage that once served as the office for Arthur Sewall & Company’s shipyard. Clearly, Claudette has an eye for beauty because that little cottage on Front Street is a slice of heaven! At our first meeting, I told Claudette how I was drawn to Bath because of its architectural beauty and its shipbuilding history, and she understood instantly. A few weeks later, I visited Claudette’s gallery and had the pleasure of viewing not only her beautiful paintings, but a collection of old photographs  as well. The photos show the shipyard at the corner of Cedar and Front Street as it was at the turn of the twentieth century. In one of the photos, you can see our house at the top of the hill, and at the bottom of the hill, near the river bank, you can see a sailing ship standing tall in the shipyard. Today, handsome wooden drawers, each bearing the name of a ship built by Sewall, still line the south wall of the cottage. This wall of fame includes the legendary Dirigo, which was torpedoed and lost in 1917 during WWI. While visiting, I also spied a very distinguished portrait of Mr. Arthur Sewall, which reminded me of the portrait of Captain Daniel Gregg (a.k.a. Rex Harrison) in the movie The Ghost and Mrs. Muir! Of course this all begs the question, “Is the cottage on Front Street haunted?” Claudette assured me it was not. In fact, she happens to have a friend who is a shaman, a person believed to have access to the world of good and evil spirits, and the shaman visited the cottage to assess its energy. As fate and Bath would have it, Claudette’s gallery has only bright, positive energy. Thank goodness!

Nevertheless, in October everyone is looking for Casper, the friendly ghost, and according to Claudette, Casper may have a few friends in Bath. On that summer evening when I was viewing Claudette’s gallery for the first time, she told me that when she lived in the white house on Washington Street she felt a presence upstairs where she used to paint. Years before, the Donovan girls, who grew up across the street, had felt a presence in their neighbor's house, too. When Claudette moved in, they asked her if the ghost still resided in the house. Since Claudette was not sure how to answer, she invited her friend, the shaman, to come for a visit, and her friend seemed to connect with a sweet spirit. Apparently, the little girl liked the colors in Claudette’s artwork, and she was very complimentary. In response, the shaman told her gently that it was time to move on, and she listened. What intrigues me most about this story is the fact that the white house is across the street from possibly the oldest copper beech tree in the state of Maine. One of my Bath neighbors told me this spectacular tree was planted in 1871 in remembrance of a young child who had just died. Ironically, copper beech trees are not known for their longevity. The memorial tree on Washington Street has defied gravity and has continued growing for almost 150 years. And that is what we call positive energy!

On one of my daily summer walks down Washington Street, I saw two artists painting the lovely white Federal Colonial with Italianate modifications. They had set up their easels on the street close to the curb, and they both seemed completely absorbed in their work. Sadly, I cannot paint, so I snapped a photo of the artistic process. I could hear a dog barking from inside the house, there was an American flag flying over the door, and although there were no children playing in the yard that day, there was evidence of children. The house was full of life, and the scene was picture perfect. I have no doubt that the two artists shared the same view and captured the happiness. There wasn’t a ghost in sight, but love was all around! In 1968, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir premiered on NBC starring Hope Lange as Mrs. Muir and Edward Mulhare as Captain Gregg. From the movie drama of the 1940’s to the more light hearted television show of the 1960’s, the most significant change was the setting: Whitecliff, England became a fictional fishing village in Schooner Bay, Maine. Could that be Georgetown or Phippsburg? Everything is possible in Bath Time! There may not be ghosts, but there is certainly magic in Maine’s Cool Little City!