Welcome to my new installment story, A View of the Town, where you meet Dr. Willis Fletcher, a new arrival in a small coastal town in Maine. Who knows where he will take us? What tales he will tell us? (I don't even know and I'm the author.) This first installment, entitled My Arrival, brings the town to light.
This first episode is brought to you by... "Paper. You've felt it. You've written on it. Paper... A clean sheet will do wonders for you."
And now on with A View of the Town. So, sit back and let's hear from Dr. Fletcher himself...
I remember arriving as if it were just yesterday. I stepped off the early afternoon train onto the weathered platform. My rear-end was sore from sitting for so many hours. It's a long trip from Xenia, Ohio. But, now I was a new arrival in a new town that I would eventually call my home. Maybe. Even at age twenty-seven, I still got butterflies in my stomach. New place. New people. I got nervous. Medical school was behind me. The War to end all wars was over. And on my calendar, I had marked July 14th, 1920, as the start of my professional life.
To the end of the platform, around the corner to my right, and there it was. Misty Cove, Maine. Your typical coastal town on the Atlantic shore. I could smell that salty and fishy air I had read about. Seagulls circling. Small clapboard houses all neat and white. Population 329 1/2. Really 330, but I'll tell you about the "half" later.
My new office was directly across from Whitman's Grocery and Dry Goods on East Street. East Street ran north and south; so not to confuse you, it was named after Jedediah Cork East, the founding father of Misty Cove. In fact, my office stood where the first cabin was built in 1854, by Old East himself on land owned by his Grandfather Cork. The Corks had purchased and settled the land about 15 miles to the south, but it was Old East who had platted out Misty Cove. The cabin now gone, but not forgotten as noted by the wood plaque that stood in my new office's window.
When you stand facing east in the center of the street in the center of town, you see out to the Atlantic Ocean. If you turn south, you'll see the road curve west due to a steep wooded hill. Many Misty Cove citizens thought of the hill as the town picnic area during any major summer celebrations giving them full view of any fireworks. Many like to tell of the time, Jesse Cork rode his sled down the hill so fast in the winter of '04 that's what caused him to became that automobile racer. Or at least that's what his mother blamed it on. Looking west, you'll see such sites as Slumberman's Sawmill and the Fluke's Fishery. And north, you'll see the road disappear into Birdwhistle woods. Or as it is known by to the youngsters "The Witch's Forest."
Anyways. The Misty Cove Post Office conveniently stood to the west of my office. The post office building had just been built last year in '19. Mr. Hank Hawkins was the post master. Mr. Hawkins was the most organized man in town, despite the fact of holding the prize for being the most oddest. "Hawk-eyed" was what students had nicknamed him. He was know for being able to spot a truant student a mile away. Even worse, he could spot a candy snatcher by simple putting his nose in the air and taking a deep sniff.
My more logical explanation was that his wife was the school teacher, Mrs. Amy-Jane Hawkins. Rumor had it that she had married Hawk-eyed for one reason. He had a hundred acres of virgin pine ten miles outside of town. Each year, she'd try to pull one over on her husband and try to sell some to the loggers. And each year, he'd get wise and intervened. He always won and she'd leave town for a month before coming back. Her absence put a damper on student lessons and Ms. Ferule would jaunt over from the nearby town and fill in.
But I really want to tell you about the time that Slumberman's Sawmill nearly caught fire and burnt to the ground. You see it all started when I stopped by to get a two-by-four to fix a porch step out back of my office and I also had to pick up my new sign with my name on it to hang in the window -- Dr. Willis C.B. Fletcher.
Well, folks, that's the end of the first episode. Stay tuned for the next installment of "A View of the Town" and just exactly how Slumberman's Sawmill almost burnt down.
And now a word from our sponsor... "Feel it. Love it. Use it. Paper... It's always lined up, just for you. Clean, crisp white paper."
CSM
This first episode is brought to you by... "Paper. You've felt it. You've written on it. Paper... A clean sheet will do wonders for you."
And now on with A View of the Town. So, sit back and let's hear from Dr. Fletcher himself...
I remember arriving as if it were just yesterday. I stepped off the early afternoon train onto the weathered platform. My rear-end was sore from sitting for so many hours. It's a long trip from Xenia, Ohio. But, now I was a new arrival in a new town that I would eventually call my home. Maybe. Even at age twenty-seven, I still got butterflies in my stomach. New place. New people. I got nervous. Medical school was behind me. The War to end all wars was over. And on my calendar, I had marked July 14th, 1920, as the start of my professional life.
To the end of the platform, around the corner to my right, and there it was. Misty Cove, Maine. Your typical coastal town on the Atlantic shore. I could smell that salty and fishy air I had read about. Seagulls circling. Small clapboard houses all neat and white. Population 329 1/2. Really 330, but I'll tell you about the "half" later.
My new office was directly across from Whitman's Grocery and Dry Goods on East Street. East Street ran north and south; so not to confuse you, it was named after Jedediah Cork East, the founding father of Misty Cove. In fact, my office stood where the first cabin was built in 1854, by Old East himself on land owned by his Grandfather Cork. The Corks had purchased and settled the land about 15 miles to the south, but it was Old East who had platted out Misty Cove. The cabin now gone, but not forgotten as noted by the wood plaque that stood in my new office's window.
When you stand facing east in the center of the street in the center of town, you see out to the Atlantic Ocean. If you turn south, you'll see the road curve west due to a steep wooded hill. Many Misty Cove citizens thought of the hill as the town picnic area during any major summer celebrations giving them full view of any fireworks. Many like to tell of the time, Jesse Cork rode his sled down the hill so fast in the winter of '04 that's what caused him to became that automobile racer. Or at least that's what his mother blamed it on. Looking west, you'll see such sites as Slumberman's Sawmill and the Fluke's Fishery. And north, you'll see the road disappear into Birdwhistle woods. Or as it is known by to the youngsters "The Witch's Forest."
Anyways. The Misty Cove Post Office conveniently stood to the west of my office. The post office building had just been built last year in '19. Mr. Hank Hawkins was the post master. Mr. Hawkins was the most organized man in town, despite the fact of holding the prize for being the most oddest. "Hawk-eyed" was what students had nicknamed him. He was know for being able to spot a truant student a mile away. Even worse, he could spot a candy snatcher by simple putting his nose in the air and taking a deep sniff.
My more logical explanation was that his wife was the school teacher, Mrs. Amy-Jane Hawkins. Rumor had it that she had married Hawk-eyed for one reason. He had a hundred acres of virgin pine ten miles outside of town. Each year, she'd try to pull one over on her husband and try to sell some to the loggers. And each year, he'd get wise and intervened. He always won and she'd leave town for a month before coming back. Her absence put a damper on student lessons and Ms. Ferule would jaunt over from the nearby town and fill in.
But I really want to tell you about the time that Slumberman's Sawmill nearly caught fire and burnt to the ground. You see it all started when I stopped by to get a two-by-four to fix a porch step out back of my office and I also had to pick up my new sign with my name on it to hang in the window -- Dr. Willis C.B. Fletcher.
Well, folks, that's the end of the first episode. Stay tuned for the next installment of "A View of the Town" and just exactly how Slumberman's Sawmill almost burnt down.
And now a word from our sponsor... "Feel it. Love it. Use it. Paper... It's always lined up, just for you. Clean, crisp white paper."
CSM
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