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| Whetstone Pond |
Until we turn and find we're old?How much of summer can we hold,
- Rod McKuen
Someone once said that it's up to the poets to pose the questions and for the rest of us to spend our lives trying to find the answers.
The New Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines summer as:
"the season of the year in a region in which the sun shines most directly; the warmest period of the year."
To me that seems inadequate. Everyone's definition of summer is shaped by their own individual experiences, and by the way one's memory colors those experiences over the passage of the years. For me, the first definition of summer would be a single word: Maine. I spent a lot of summers in that northernmost of the New England states, and I remember them now as the happiest times of my life. A recent visit to the Pine Tree State with my wife, Lorie, and my mother, Dorothy, rekindled summer memories and added some new ones.
Our first stop was a visit with my cousin Susan West in Dover-Foxcroft, and a trip with her to Whetstone Pond, our old summer stomping ground, where we connected with my oldest friend from childhood, Jim Harvey, and his wife, Betty. Jim and I had been swapping letters and planned to revisit our old baseball field (see my earlier blog Once Around the Bases for more about our team, the Whetstone Sluggers), and we both packed our old gloves, but somehow forgot to pack a ball or bat! We stopped first at the cottage (we used to call them "camps") of old friend and early mentor, Paul Just, and did some great catching-up. We reminisced about all the fun we used to have at Aunt Myrtle's Bingo parties and the "record hops" we attended at each other's camps, out on the docks, under the stars, with those old 45s spinning. Paul, a retired school teacher, is now a member of one of the groups that cut some of those old 45s: the Crests!
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| Paul Just, Susan West, Ben Blake, Jim Harvey |
We mentioned to Paul our desire to try and locate the old field, and he told us it had grown up to trees that were recently cleared for two building lots. Jim knew a way to reach it by car, and we were soon there. Jim picked out a few landmarks and determined where home plate used to be 50 years ago. Harvey and Blake "took the field" once more. For me, it was holy ground, and to be on it again with my old friend was super.
My second definition of summer would be the word "magic." In the conversations I had with Susan, Paul, and Jim, that word kept coming up. We came to the conclusion that Whetstone Pond was a magic place, and that nowhere since had measured up to it. Paul returned from Florida and built his summer home at the Pond. Susan and Jim both live within easy driving distance. Only I was separated from the magic by the miles. We all realized that we were blessed to have such a wonderful spot to share the summers of our youth. To be able to return to it and to enjoy once again the company of old friends and family, rekindling the joy of summers past, made the present summer glow.
From Whetstone, we headed north to my mother's hometown of Presque Isle. For Dorothy Scott Blake, childhood summers were filled with work on her parents' potato farm. But on this trip we learned that she had done something special in the summer of 1946.
Our visit to Aroostook County coincided with the annual Potato Blossom Festival, and Dorothy remembered that she had once competed, coming in second (to Patricia Marino) in the Miss Presque Isle portion of the contest. The year was 1946, three years after her graduation from Presque Isle High School. Here is her photo from the 1943 yearbook which the town historian (with some persuading from my Aunt Honey) was kind enough to locate for us. After looking at the photos of her other classmates, all prejudices aside, I have to say she was definitely the most beautiful, with an almost "Hollywood star" look.
She was mentioned a few times in the yearbook's pages: Dorothy Scott was known for her "flashy jackets" and wore one that belonged to a "special someone" (she's now uncertain who he was), and was basically "always turning boys' heads." Not a surprise!
After a very nice visit with Dorothy's youngest sister, Helen (the previously mentioned "Aunt Honey"), which included a visit to their parents' final resting place, we headed to the coast to Lincolnville for a visit with Helen's oldest daughter, Debbie, and her husband, Frank. Deb's brother, Dan, was also able to join us for a great afternoon of "cousin catch-up." Deb and Frank have acquired an impressive collection of artifacts from our grandparents' farm, including an old milking stool!
The conversation turned to age, as all of my cousins are now over 50. (We had a similar discussion with the group at Whetstone Pond.) Just what is "old," anyway? I won't bother you with another definition from Merriam-Webster. Our definition of what old means seems to differ as we age. Today, for Lorie, Deb, Frank, Dan, Paul, Susan, Jim, Betty, and me, 70 is "the new 50." For Dorothy, 90 is "the new 70." I'm sure for my daughter, Elizabeth, 40 is "the new 25." While writing these words it occurred to me that my grandmother, Mildred Hussey Scott, who lived to be over 100 (and loved to spend time in her flower garden each summer), would probably tell me not to sugar coat it: 100 is still 100!
After our return from Maine, our granddaughter, Megan, visited us for a week, which included a trip to a shopping mall. In a store she was drawn to a rack of merchandise featuring the currently-hot "boy band" One Direction. I had never heard of them but pointed out a rack of similar Justin Beiber items nearby. "I HATE Justin Beiber. He's so OLD!" Stunned, I asked how old Beiber was. "He's almost 20!" I said I thought he was much younger, and she said "No, he's 16!" For Megan, 16 is apparently "the new 20." Age is relative, and it seems that time marches in many directions.
Keeping summer alive can keep us young for a while longer. Just ask The Beach Boys, who are my third definition of summer (I've written about them briefly in my earlier blog In My Room). It's been 50 years since they formed their band, considered by many to be America's greatest rock and roll group. They certainly have my vote! I can't think of anyone else whose music immediately conjures up an image of endless summer (the title of one of their many albums, which include All Summer Long, Summer Days and Summer Nights, and Keepin' the Summer Alive). They have reunited for a new album, That's Why God Made the Radio, and a 50th anniversary world tour this year. It seems impossible that it's been that long since I first heard Surfin' Safari on my parents' old AM radio. The Beach Boys have had an illustrious career, but also
a difficult one. Two of the Wilson brothers, Dennis and Carl, are no longer with us. Amazingly, after all the ups and downs he's endured, Brian Wilson is still with us, and is considered one of the true geniuses of the music business. (Paul McCartney has called Brian's God Only Knows "the greatest song ever written.") Brian famously left the touring aspect of the group's life in 1964 to concentrate on writing and producing the songs. He was replaced by Bruce Johnston (who later won a Grammy for writing Barry Manilow's hit I Write the Songs). Getting the reunion together was not an easy task, and it was Al Jardine (who replaced David Marks in 1963, after David replaced him in 1962) who convinced everyone that it was time, and the right thing to do. So this is the first Beach Boys lineup to include both Al and David. There is a certain positive vibe and (perhaps) a sense of closure to this tour and album.
http://www.todayonline.com/CultureAndLifestyle/Music/EDC120803-0000022/Endless-summer
Among all their great surfing songs (which are summer songs by default), there are also some remarkable tunes that always mark the season: Keep An Eye On Summer, Your Summer Dream, Summer Means New Love, Girls On the Beach, The Warmth of the Sun, and Almost Summer (a minor 1978 hit by Mike and Brian's "side-project" group, Celebration; link below).
I'm sure you all have your own definitions of summer, and hopefully a trunk load of summer memories. Hold those memories close. Maybe I've answered Mr. McKuen's question. Maybe not. I would guess that our memories die with us. Share as many as you can with those you love. Pass them on down. Our children and grandchildren and great grandchildren still have a lot of summer memories of their own to make. Let them know how important those memories will be to them.
So live as long as you can, and enjoy every summer of your life, including this one!
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| Harvey and Blake |
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| Blake and Harvey |
I have no photos of the ball field from 50 years ago, but I dug out this one from 1965 of Jim and me on the Harvey's front lawn at Whetstone Pond. Haven't aged a whole lot, have we? A few more pounds and a lot less hair, but so it goes!
My second definition of summer would be the word "magic." In the conversations I had with Susan, Paul, and Jim, that word kept coming up. We came to the conclusion that Whetstone Pond was a magic place, and that nowhere since had measured up to it. Paul returned from Florida and built his summer home at the Pond. Susan and Jim both live within easy driving distance. Only I was separated from the magic by the miles. We all realized that we were blessed to have such a wonderful spot to share the summers of our youth. To be able to return to it and to enjoy once again the company of old friends and family, rekindling the joy of summers past, made the present summer glow.
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| David West and Ben Blake, circa 1960 |
To revisit Whetstone Pond also brings back memories of those we loved who are no longer with us. It's unnerving how many of the "big kids" (those of Paul Just's age and older) have passed away. And the younger kids have also suffered some major losses. Stuart Perkins (the subject of Once Around the Bases) left us last year, and my cousin David West (Susan's brother) checked out much too early, in 1983. And the ranks of the old folks, who fed and sheltered us, and made it possible for us to have all those magic summers, have thinned to almost nothing. Only Jim's father, Paul's mother, and my Aunt Ruth remain, and only Paul's mother still summers at the Pond.
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| The Pond |
I would like to believe that Whetstone's magic allows their spirits to remain there, or at least to visit in summer. Many fine ashes have been spread on that Pond.
From Whetstone, we headed north to my mother's hometown of Presque Isle. For Dorothy Scott Blake, childhood summers were filled with work on her parents' potato farm. But on this trip we learned that she had done something special in the summer of 1946.
Our visit to Aroostook County coincided with the annual Potato Blossom Festival, and Dorothy remembered that she had once competed, coming in second (to Patricia Marino) in the Miss Presque Isle portion of the contest. The year was 1946, three years after her graduation from Presque Isle High School. Here is her photo from the 1943 yearbook which the town historian (with some persuading from my Aunt Honey) was kind enough to locate for us. After looking at the photos of her other classmates, all prejudices aside, I have to say she was definitely the most beautiful, with an almost "Hollywood star" look.
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| Dorothy Scott Blake and Debbie Tracy Colby |
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| Mildred Hussey Scott, 1985 |
After our return from Maine, our granddaughter, Megan, visited us for a week, which included a trip to a shopping mall. In a store she was drawn to a rack of merchandise featuring the currently-hot "boy band" One Direction. I had never heard of them but pointed out a rack of similar Justin Beiber items nearby. "I HATE Justin Beiber. He's so OLD!" Stunned, I asked how old Beiber was. "He's almost 20!" I said I thought he was much younger, and she said "No, he's 16!" For Megan, 16 is apparently "the new 20." Age is relative, and it seems that time marches in many directions.
Keeping summer alive can keep us young for a while longer. Just ask The Beach Boys, who are my third definition of summer (I've written about them briefly in my earlier blog In My Room). It's been 50 years since they formed their band, considered by many to be America's greatest rock and roll group. They certainly have my vote! I can't think of anyone else whose music immediately conjures up an image of endless summer (the title of one of their many albums, which include All Summer Long, Summer Days and Summer Nights, and Keepin' the Summer Alive). They have reunited for a new album, That's Why God Made the Radio, and a 50th anniversary world tour this year. It seems impossible that it's been that long since I first heard Surfin' Safari on my parents' old AM radio. The Beach Boys have had an illustrious career, but also
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| Brian Wilson, Mike Love, Dennis Wilson, Carl Wilson, David Marks |
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| Bruce Johnston, Al Jardine, Brian Wilson, Mike Love, David Marks |
Here's a link to about 30 minutes of the group's June 19, 2012 concert in Toronto. Handheld camera from the audience, but decent audio, and it gives you an idea of how good they (still) sound. Followed by a couple of links to articles about the reunion.
http://www.todayonline.com/CultureAndLifestyle/Music/EDC120803-0000022/Endless-summer
http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-3445_162-57472457/the-beach-boys-back-catching-another-wave/?tag=nl.e884
Late breaking news: there will a 50th Anniversary DVD released shortly:
Among all their great surfing songs (which are summer songs by default), there are also some remarkable tunes that always mark the season: Keep An Eye On Summer, Your Summer Dream, Summer Means New Love, Girls On the Beach, The Warmth of the Sun, and Almost Summer (a minor 1978 hit by Mike and Brian's "side-project" group, Celebration; link below).
I'm sure you all have your own definitions of summer, and hopefully a trunk load of summer memories. Hold those memories close. Maybe I've answered Mr. McKuen's question. Maybe not. I would guess that our memories die with us. Share as many as you can with those you love. Pass them on down. Our children and grandchildren and great grandchildren still have a lot of summer memories of their own to make. Let them know how important those memories will be to them.
So live as long as you can, and enjoy every summer of your life, including this one!
