This looks like the place to be. If you are going to visit the coast of Maine the trip would not be complete without stopping at Watchtide By The Sea.  A unique bed and breakfast with a huge dose of American history.

 Watchtide . . . by the Sea! invites you to experience the unhurried lifestyle along the midcoast of Maine.  This historic bed and breakfast inn on three-plus landscaped acres offers some of the finest accommodations on the Maine coast -- five comfortable rooms with private baths, tasteful period furnishings and accessories, and the sense of history that only a 200-year-old home can convey. 

          Each morning you'll awaken to a superb, creative multi-course breakfast served on our 60-foot enclosed sunporch as you watch a spectacular sunrise over the glistening waters of the bay.  Spend your day relaxing on  the sunporch or in our guest lounge, reading in our library, or strolling in our flowering gardens.  Venture out for sightseeing, visiting the many interesting galleries, museums, antique shops, parks and historic sites along the coast road, or sailing on one of  America's most attractive waterways.

          Less than an hour's drive from Rockland, Camden, Bar Harbor, Mount Desert Island and Acadia National Park, the inn is located on Coastal Route 1 in Searsport, a seacoast town famous for its clipper ships and sea captains in the mid-1800s and today considered the antiques capitol of Maine.

          In August, 1794, Brigadier General Hanry Knox acquired the original deed to the Watchtide property.  General Knox, one of George Washington's most reliable aides during the American Revolution, was the new nation's first Secretary of War and is acknowledged as the founder of the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, N.Y.  After General Knox sold the property, well-to-do merchants and sea captains resided here until the Pettee family purchased it in 1901 and retained ownership for half a century.  One of the daughters, Frances Pettee, and three roommates from Wellesley College opened a tea house on the site in 1917 which evolved into the College Club Inn, one of the most popular stopping-off places on the Maine coast.  The inn hosted many notables, among them Eleanor Roosevelt who made regular visits with her entourage as she traveled the coastal route to Campobello Island in New Brunswick, Canada, where the Roosevelt family spent their summers.  In April, 2000, the College Club Inn was placed on the National Register of Historic Places   by the U.S. Department of the Interior.   A framed document certifying this recognition hangs proudly in the main entry hall at Watchtide . . . by the Sea!

          The present owners and innkeepers, Patricia and Frank Kulla, take great pleasure in continuing the tradition of hospitality established at the inn many decades ago.  Today, as in years past, they are welcoming guests to enjoy the warmth and special ambiance of a stay at this unique, historic bed and breakfast inn overlooking beautiful Penobscot Bay.

Kevin’s Story, Part 30, Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween.  Some would say that Halloween is this terrible day with all types of anti religious overtones.  If that’s your position, well then more power to you.  When I was five years old we moved to Wilmington, California.  Wilmington was a very rough town in the early 1960's.  We lived within a stones through of highway 1.  Not the fancy four lanes in each direction highway one, the four lane, with no left turn lanes highway 1.  With a light on every corner and people really frustrated at traffic.  If someone was turning left, that stopped the fast lane, then if someone wanted to turn right and the sidewalk was full that would stop the right lane.  Everything would clear just fine when the light changed and two cars from each lane made it through the light.  Our world was a half block down the street.  There was an alley behind all the businesses on highway 1 and we were 15 feet and an alley away from those businesses.  The kitchen window was at least two feet and a bush away from the alley.  The same window that my Mom watched as they scooped up the man that had just been shot and took him to the morgue.  So, I hope,  you can understand my point of reference.

When you are five you don’t think of dangers you think of candy.  Lot’s of it.  Southern California you don’t even have to think about rain or snow like Maine.  Fact is you don’t have to even consider a coat.  Just worry about how many houses and how much candy.  I’m sure Mom raked through to ensure razor blades were not sticking out but I don’t remember.  Halloween was a great fun experience filled with sound effects and scary masks.  I don’t remember being scared of anything but I do remember the candy.  Did I already mention that part?   The season got off to a great start.  The local refinery would dress up the oil tank and make the biggest pumpkin in the world.  One of my greatest joys and memories of being a five year old.  Fact is, I don’t remember anyone telling me how bad anything was until I was about forty.  So I had thirty five years of fun.

Kevin’s Story, Part 29, I lived down the street from

 

Thank you dailyishphoto.blogspot.com for this, the best picture of this house I have ever seen.  A perfect picture for this time of year.  I have ten pictures that don’t even come close.  Great job, I have to follow your blog and wait for another great picture.

You may have to go back and read Part 25 again because, that window was close to this house.  I guess this should be a quiz.  Well the famous writer did not live in the house when I lived close by.  I don’t even remember seeing the house when I was little.  If you get to see it in person, you won’t forget it.  It has a completely different look when surrounded by snow.

The mansion was built in 1858 for $7,000.00.  I would wager the last paint job cost more than that.  Maybe if you lived in a house like this you could write awesome books also.  So who lives in the house now?

Kevin’s Story, Part 26, The Fly Boy

Maggie did not have it easy.  Of course taking care of a child that minds perfectly should be simple but the big boy, who weighed all most as much as his Mom, was not very healthy.  The doctor wrote; he was hospitalized for eight days on Jun 17, 1958 for possible Rheumatic Fever.  At that time low grade temperature elevated se. rate 27 mg. Per. Grade 1 cystoloc murmur was heard-maximum at 4th left interspace-tonsils were enlarged not injected, cervical glands were small.  Following hospital discharge he came down with acute tonsilitis which responded to penicillin.  He was considered a potential Rheumatic Fever suspect and treated accordingly with limited activity.  ECG taken,  showed evidence of Myocarditis.  He had an episode of Bronchitis in September of 1958 which responded to TAO Suspension.  He also was given HesperC liquid as a prophylactic against respiratory infection.  Heart murmur remained unchanged.  Tonsils enlarged somewhat moderately.  B. L. Shapero M. D.  Thanks doc you fixed me.

This was starting to get expensive.  Then of course were the doctor visits she would have to be making for herself soon.  There was another one on the way.  See, she had met this fly boy. Let’s go back a year.

She worked at Dow Airfield and there were a lot of pilots flying in and out.  She happened to meet one that was not in the service but flew for a Government contractor.  His job was to wait for a prototype part to come to the cold country for testing.  They had to install the parts in real conditions before they were certified to go into production.  So the fly boy would install the part and then test it in actual flight conditions.  He would travel to New Foundland, Iceland, and Greenland testing parts and then return.  The fly boy got a glimpse of the auburn hair and there was no turning back.  Must have been the little boy that sealed the deal because they would stay together for the rest of there lives.  The fly boy had a family, and it would soon be growing.

Continued . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 25, The Window

Let’s back up just a couple years, maybe to 1954, continued from Part 4 posted in April.  News was in the newspaper and on the radio.  Television was becoming more affordable.  You could pick up a brand new 19" black and white set for about $150.00.  The median household income was about $5,000.00 per year, so not everyone was lining up to buy a new set.   However, if you worked for a television shop you got a discount and it wasn’t long before Maggie’s Dad got a new set.  He would have just a few months of TV watching before he went to meet his maker.  By then Maggie had bigger challenges.  She was going to have to share the news that she was in trouble.

Three big brothers, there wives, step Mom, sister, Aunts and Uncle’s.  The consensus of opinion, adoption.  In 1954 girls did not become pregnant.  They went on holiday to some far away place and came back six months later like nothing had happened.  (Sidebar; [I got that from the OJ trial], we did not understand the mental damage that giving up a child for adoption would cause in the 1950's.  It wasn’t until abortion was legalized and we found out about the life long mental damage it caused that we looked at how hard it was to give up a child for adoption.)  You can imagine that I favor anything but abortion.  If you are on Facebook, search for the +9 group.  I should be the poster child because my Mom could have gone the easy way with an abortion or give me up for adoption.  It was much harder on a female then.  The right to chose is much easier the day you chose than living with the choice forever.  If you find it difficult living with a choice you made, please seek help from your church or pregnancy resource center in your area.

I am thankful that Maggie chose life for me.  It would take Maggie another 18 months before she could take me home.  She gave everything she had during those 18 months to make a home.  Back then you did not get a reward check every month for having a child you could not take care of.  Women did not have many options for work that paid enough to support a family.  Maggie found a job as a ward clerk at the Governments Dow Air Field hospital.  She found a one bedroom apartment in downtown Bangor and got to work by bus.  She would break that kid out of foster care and raise him by herself with no help from anybody.

Think back to when you were two years old.  Do you have any memories that far back?  I have one thing I can remember.  I must have been two years old and must have been in trouble.  I was required to stay on Mom’s big bed (I guess that was a time out) and take a nap.  I was not allowed to get off the bed for any reason.  (You may not have the whole picture.  It’s Bangor Maine, in the fall, cold breezy day, maybe in the 40's) Mom puts down the laundry basket, bends over grabs the latch on each side of the window, gives it everything a 5 foot 2 inch girl can give and the window finally comes up about 2 feet.  She grabs the laundry basket, bends over like a girl jumping hurtles, climbs out the window onto the roof.  I don’t ever remember being able to go outside that window and play.  I can’t see my Mom from my position on the bed.  I slowly and quietly lean over, , , , more, , , , a little bit more, , , , can’t see anything, , , more, , , oops.  I jump to my feet and try to get back on the bed but I can’t climb that thing because the bedspread pulls down when I pull up.  (I may have been vertically challenged then but I had plenty of weight) The bedspread on the floor and I have no way up on the bed.  I’m in trouble but, Mom didn’t yell yet???  Well since I’m down on the floor anyway, I slowly and quietly make my way over to the window.  Maybe I could go out and play with Mom.  I slowly peek around the window molding and see my Mom hanging up clothes.  ON THE ROOF?  This looks like a lot of fun so, being the good helper that I am, I throw a leg over the window ledge and the next 60 seconds is probably why I remember the story.

Continued . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 19, Another What #2?

brother.

Well I only have one younger brother.  Talk about torment, how did that kid ever make it through childhood.  Well if this new brother is anything like the little brother, I will really be blessed.

He passed away in 1986.  Damn.

He was 25 years older than you, and very successful.  He had a construction company that built roads, housing developments, and anything else he could get his hands into.  I think I should have met him 25 years ago, maybe he could have taught me how to run a successful business.

Yes he was married, lived in Connecticut and has a great family.  There are kids and grandkids, and great grand kids.  “Do you want all there names?”  I’m feeling like I’m coming to the end of this story so I turn over the 3 by 5 paper and start writing on the back.  He had a daughter then a son three years later.  The son passed away though. (very sad face, two family members that I will not get to meet.)  Then he got re-married and had a girl, then another girl, then another girl, then a couple boys.  My paper, poor penmanship, and the holes due to the pencil are very sad.  As I’m writing I''m looking around the truck for the next scrap of paper, because I’m not going to fit all these names.

If you have ever worked on ancestry.com you know how valuable the information, spelling, and dates really are.  I am trying to get everything down.  Still focusing on the construction company part as I’m writing.  My hero, and I never got to shake his hand.

So I get it all down, I'm fixin’ to take a breath, need to say good buy before the battery dies, but before I open my mouth she says;

And you have another . . . . Oh my!  Now I know what my bio-dad’s calling was.

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 17, The Call

Ring....Ring.....Ring....

This is Kevin

This is your sister.

pause . . . . (while I pull over with out wrecking the truck)

She tells me this story; when I was little, you and I were playing together, and I overheard all the Aunts saying “Wow they look just alike”.  I was at your Uncles house and we were playing in the front room.  I remembered that and asked my Mom one day.  Do I have a brother?  Mom said; “Yeeuup” (That’s Maine talk for yes)

(How is it that the whole world knows I’m adopted but I don’t?)
She continues; twenty years ago we were getting ready to have a family reunion and I tried to get in touch with you.  I contacted your Mom.  (Oh?)  She talked me out of contacting you at the time.   (Oh?)

Later, as I was putting pieces of the puzzle together, I thought back to a phone call I made to my Mom as I was traveling on the East coast.  I drove from Virginia to Maine.  As I entered my birth town I realized I didn’t know what to look at, what to take a picture of.

Mom, where did we live, where was I born, do you want me to take any pictures while I’m here?  I don’t remember the answers but that must have made her very uncomfortable about the secret.  I’m sorry for that.

Big sister and I talked for about 30 seconds (actually about an hour and a half) before I said my battery was getting ready to die.  Damn cell phones.

Then she says, oh by the way, you have another

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 14, The Bio-Dad

So now I have what I call a bio-dad.  And so starts a most fantastic journey into my past - - - -.  Are you wondering about your birth certificate yet?

I did have a name, many don’t have that much.  I tried 411, Google, and could not come up with a viable bio-dad.  There are some great resources.  Cindi’s list is a great starting point for records of any kind.  www.cindislist.com.

One huge challenge for ancestry researchers is too much information.  The bio-dad’s last name is as popular in England as Smith is in America.  When Google returns 1,790,000 possible hits you know you are in trouble.  This is when I started to study how Google works.  It is amazing how you can add a + or a - or even “ ” to get something completely different.  I recently bought a book about using Google as a research tool written by Lisa Loiuse Cooke called The Genealogist’s Google Toolbox.  If that book was available two years ago I could have saved thousands of hours.  You don’t have to be a Genealogist to learn a lot from this book.  For more information about the book look at her blog http://genealogygemspodcast.blogspot.com .

I remember a cousin asked if I wanted all the information? (Refer to part 9)  What does that mean?  Yes, why?  Well, do we want to have everything like past marriages, step brother and sisters?  Of course!  How about un-advertised past families?  We want to get history as correct as we can.  Even if it isn’t the most popular, we should err on the side of correct.  Even your past?  MINE? Of course, as correct as possible.  Pause for a couple months.

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Kevin’s Story, Part 13, Three Sides To Every Story PG-13 Version

Family histories are shaped by those telling the stories.  Do you know what happened in the past?  Who really slept with who?  Why is my hair a different color than my parents?  Why do I have a huge nose and my brothers and sisters do not?  Did the mail man have a big nose?  Did the milk man have red hair?  Very interesting.

What is on your birth certificate?  I’m not talking about a record of live birth.  Those are generated by those telling the stories.  Is your birth certificate correct?  When asked who was the father, did Mom say Joe the Barber?  Was Joe the Barber really the father or was it Jimmy the ticket taker at the Century Theater?

When the story slipped out (at 45 years old) that I was adopted, I pulled out my wallet and read the names of my mother and father.  I wasn’t adopted.  After a little research a couple years ago I found out that when you are adopted they make a new birth certificate listing the adopting parents.  Oh!  So I write to the state of Maine and ask about my records.  I have to have a certified copy of my birth certificate.  (No the President doesn’t have one of those.)  I send away and get a certified copy that matches the one in my wallet. (Yes, it’s the same one) It just so happens that two years ago Maine allowed you to gain access to your real birth certificate.  I send a petition, with my certified copy to Maine.  That was a long wait.  The names do not match.

To Be Continued . . . . . . .

Sidebar; Just in case you were wondering what I thought about the truth being withheld, I will tell you.  Any young lad can become a bio-dad, it takes a real man to become a father.  It takes a dedicated family man to adopt a child and treat them as he does his own.  I was blessed to have one of each.  Blessed?  You’ll just have to keep reading to find out how.