Letters to the Editor
Where in Maine? You are absolutely right that we have precious few unspoiled seacoast spots remaining in southern Maine, and we agree that Cape Porpoise
Where in Maine?
You are absolutely right that we have precious few unspoiled seacoast spots remaining in southern Maine, and we agree that Cape Porpoise Harbor, the subject of your July "Where in Maine?" photograph, is surely one of them. In the past we bought all our seafood from the lobster pound pictured in the foreground, and we always enjoyed talking with the owners and even picked up fresh chowder and a bottle of wine to go with supper. If we didn't feel like cooking, we simply crossed the bridge and followed the road to the harbormaster's building and enjoyed the fresh seafood under umbrellas at the picnic tables.It's presently a bit different in this lovely spot with the bridge construction, the demise of the working lobster pound, and the new restaurant on the pier. But it's still a delight to the senses. If the day is clear, the view of Goat Island Light is grand. And, of course, watching the lobsterboats come and go provides all the entertainment you need. We always have and will continue to bring our guests to Cape Porpoise Harbor to savor the view.
—Karen Ann Hannon
Kennebunk, Maine
I was delighted in seeing my old Cape-Able Bike Shop building in your July issue — with the two-tone shingles I put on in the 1970s. It's now being fixed up as a marine storage area for the condos that surround it.
—Peter Sargent
Kennebunkport, Maine
Wild at Heart
The answer to your July coverline "Rowdy River — How did the Saco become a floating party?" and the accompanying story is easy. It was made too accessible. Our neighborhood families used to canoe the Saco River many years ago, and at that time it was a bit of a chore to access the river, particularly with more than a canoe and lunch. Since then, big parking lots and riverside access points have made it too easy to lug in truckloads of beer, party barges, charcoal grills, and towering bundles of firewood. Build it, and they will come — and bring all the problems with them. Sometimes, less is better.
—W.C. "Pete" Smythe
Standish, Maine
I've been a subscriber for more years than I care to tell and a reader longer than that, having grown up on the Saco River in Hollis. We used to float from Fryeburg to Hiram or Brownfield a couple of times a year. We called it "Double D-ing" — drifting and drinking. Bloody Mary's were the first order of the morning, once we launched.
I recall the rapids that were at the Salmon Falls, but they disappeared when the dam was built at Union Falls. If you know where to look you can still see the steps that were carved into the side of the rocks and the Native American paintings along the cliffs. We used to swim at the head of the canal in Hollis right next to the dam in Bar Mills. It used to be a great place to swim and then sun on the canal wall. All the guys would change clothes under the bridge.
Your story brought back wonderful memories. We hope to come back to Maine next summer for clams and lobsters on the Saco.
—Pete Larry
Richmond, Virginia
Living on the Line
Thank you for Virginia Wright's article "In the Shadow of the Border" about the St. John Valley in your June issue. We so seldom read anything about our neck of the woods. We moved to Madawaska in the summer of '41. My dad was an immigration inspector, and we moved every few years, so I was lucky to start and finish my high school years in Madawaska. I was one of three students in my class who had the disadvantage of not speaking French. I remember fondly my years in the Valley.
—Beatrice Paquin
Caribou, Maine
Charles Kuralt might have liked the friendly back and forth of Mainers and Canadians, the food they enjoy, and the stories and language they share, but I think your writer would have served readers better with real reporting about the security of the Canadian border in northern Maine. How would a Muslim radical look and fare coming south, and how does this place — so distant from the rest of America (and Canada) — think of itself in a post-9/11 world, where border security is front-page news.
—David Bryant
New Canaan, Connecticut
I was totally fascinated by Virginia Wright's June article about Madawaska and Paul Doiron's accompanying "Editor's Note." Speaking from another comparable experience in Maine — my formative years were spent in the Russian émigré community in Richmond — I thought together the two pieces handled the issues of biculturalism and multinational identity with admirable restraint and sensitivity.
—Nikolai Dejevsky
London, England
So Long
I read with interest the editorial in your June issue about "Plugging the Brain Drain." How about an article on "Plugging the Retirement Drain?" More and more retired Mainers are moving to Florida, Arizona, and Texas — states that do not have state income tax. I moved here from Texas to retire, only to discover that Maine law taxes retirement benefits. In Florida, Arizona, and Texas there is no such tax. Not one penny of the money I'm being taxed on was made in Maine. This is highway robbery and yet Maine is trying to encourage senior citizens to retire here. Hey, senior citizens, go to Florida, Arizona, or Texas — you will be able to keep more of your benefits.
So long, Maine, I am returning to Texas where I can keep more of my retirement. I will be back for visits only.
—Susan Dillard
Guilford, Maine
Sweet Satire
I laughed so much while reading Agnes Bushell's "A Modest Proposal for Portland" ["My Maine," July 2006] that my dog started to bark at me. Jonathan Swift didn't have quite the same flair — way too morbid. Maybe Bushell could write "modest proposals" for other Maine communities, or how about the whole state?
—Pamela Robinson
Kittery, Maine
You are absolutely right that we have precious few unspoiled seacoast spots remaining in southern Maine, and we agree that Cape Porpoise Harbor, the subject of your July "Where in Maine?" photograph, is surely one of them. In the past we bought all our seafood from the lobster pound pictured in the foreground, and we always enjoyed talking with the owners and even picked up fresh chowder and a bottle of wine to go with supper. If we didn't feel like cooking, we simply crossed the bridge and followed the road to the harbormaster's building and enjoyed the fresh seafood under umbrellas at the picnic tables.It's presently a bit different in this lovely spot with the bridge construction, the demise of the working lobster pound, and the new restaurant on the pier. But it's still a delight to the senses. If the day is clear, the view of Goat Island Light is grand. And, of course, watching the lobsterboats come and go provides all the entertainment you need. We always have and will continue to bring our guests to Cape Porpoise Harbor to savor the view.
—Karen Ann Hannon
Kennebunk, Maine
I was delighted in seeing my old Cape-Able Bike Shop building in your July issue — with the two-tone shingles I put on in the 1970s. It's now being fixed up as a marine storage area for the condos that surround it.
—Peter Sargent
Kennebunkport, Maine
Wild at Heart
The answer to your July coverline "Rowdy River — How did the Saco become a floating party?" and the accompanying story is easy. It was made too accessible. Our neighborhood families used to canoe the Saco River many years ago, and at that time it was a bit of a chore to access the river, particularly with more than a canoe and lunch. Since then, big parking lots and riverside access points have made it too easy to lug in truckloads of beer, party barges, charcoal grills, and towering bundles of firewood. Build it, and they will come — and bring all the problems with them. Sometimes, less is better.
—W.C. "Pete" Smythe
Standish, Maine
I've been a subscriber for more years than I care to tell and a reader longer than that, having grown up on the Saco River in Hollis. We used to float from Fryeburg to Hiram or Brownfield a couple of times a year. We called it "Double D-ing" — drifting and drinking. Bloody Mary's were the first order of the morning, once we launched.
I recall the rapids that were at the Salmon Falls, but they disappeared when the dam was built at Union Falls. If you know where to look you can still see the steps that were carved into the side of the rocks and the Native American paintings along the cliffs. We used to swim at the head of the canal in Hollis right next to the dam in Bar Mills. It used to be a great place to swim and then sun on the canal wall. All the guys would change clothes under the bridge.
Your story brought back wonderful memories. We hope to come back to Maine next summer for clams and lobsters on the Saco.
—Pete Larry
Richmond, Virginia
Living on the Line
Thank you for Virginia Wright's article "In the Shadow of the Border" about the St. John Valley in your June issue. We so seldom read anything about our neck of the woods. We moved to Madawaska in the summer of '41. My dad was an immigration inspector, and we moved every few years, so I was lucky to start and finish my high school years in Madawaska. I was one of three students in my class who had the disadvantage of not speaking French. I remember fondly my years in the Valley.
—Beatrice Paquin
Caribou, Maine
Charles Kuralt might have liked the friendly back and forth of Mainers and Canadians, the food they enjoy, and the stories and language they share, but I think your writer would have served readers better with real reporting about the security of the Canadian border in northern Maine. How would a Muslim radical look and fare coming south, and how does this place — so distant from the rest of America (and Canada) — think of itself in a post-9/11 world, where border security is front-page news.
—David Bryant
New Canaan, Connecticut
I was totally fascinated by Virginia Wright's June article about Madawaska and Paul Doiron's accompanying "Editor's Note." Speaking from another comparable experience in Maine — my formative years were spent in the Russian émigré community in Richmond — I thought together the two pieces handled the issues of biculturalism and multinational identity with admirable restraint and sensitivity.
—Nikolai Dejevsky
London, England
So Long
I read with interest the editorial in your June issue about "Plugging the Brain Drain." How about an article on "Plugging the Retirement Drain?" More and more retired Mainers are moving to Florida, Arizona, and Texas — states that do not have state income tax. I moved here from Texas to retire, only to discover that Maine law taxes retirement benefits. In Florida, Arizona, and Texas there is no such tax. Not one penny of the money I'm being taxed on was made in Maine. This is highway robbery and yet Maine is trying to encourage senior citizens to retire here. Hey, senior citizens, go to Florida, Arizona, or Texas — you will be able to keep more of your benefits.
So long, Maine, I am returning to Texas where I can keep more of my retirement. I will be back for visits only.
—Susan Dillard
Guilford, Maine
Sweet Satire
I laughed so much while reading Agnes Bushell's "A Modest Proposal for Portland" ["My Maine," July 2006] that my dog started to bark at me. Jonathan Swift didn't have quite the same flair — way too morbid. Maybe Bushell could write "modest proposals" for other Maine communities, or how about the whole state?
—Pamela Robinson
Kittery, Maine
