In our first episode, we met Dr. Willis Fletcher, a new arrival in Misty Cove, Maine. Offering tidbits of local color and the lay of the land, we now return to Dr. Fletcher and The Sawmill Incident.
This episode of A View of the Town is brought to you by... "Ink. Black, Blue, Red, or Green. Ink is always seen. Ink. It does a writer good."
And now on with A View of the Town, Episode 2. So, sit back and let's hear from Dr. Fletcher himself tell the tale of The Sawmill Incident.
July 14th, 1920. That was the day I arrived in Misty Cove. Well, here it was two weeks later, I've settled in. I've been welcomed. And my patient roster is growing. Such a nice, pleasant little coastal town with such an interesting and sordid underground of life you would never have guessed. I don't think I'll ever forget my first trip over to Slumberman's Sawmill.
Now in order to understand this story, first, I've got to take you on a side trip. On March 15, 1820, Maine became the 23rd state, under the Missouri Compromise, admitted to the United States. If you've never experienced a Maine winter, they can be colder than a witch's teat. So, the March celebrations of Maine's centennial was left for warmer weather. Come July 4th, Misty Cove set out to whoop it up. This whooping-up included the largest fireworks display ever seen in the city. However, one firework made its way to a storage shed behind Slumberman's Sawmill.
Lewis Hardy, the man in charge of the fireworks display, had decided to outfox the previous years fireworks thief. The past few years, the largest firework for the display had been absconded by a teenager who I'll tell you more about sometime later. Well, Hardy had stashed the firework in a shed to the east side of the sawmill. And was promptly forgotten. Hardy could be a little absent-minded.
On that warm Monday afternoon, here I stood at the Slumberman's where Luke Jankins, our local handyman and employee of the sawmill, had brought my new sign and had my freshly cut two-by-four. Now growing up on a farm in Ohio had taught me a few things about being a handyman myself. Not only can I use a scalpel, but I can also use a hammer. So, Jankins and I stood out front and debated of who would hang the sign and fix the back step. Now, just I was about to add my points of the debate, we heard the loudest whistle fizzing from the shed. And what happened next is hard to describe, but here goes.
The shed had a small square four-pane skylight in it so you could see when you went in. Well, the skylight's glass busted out as that forgotten lone firework burst its way through. I can only assume that since its path had been cut short was why about twenty-feet up it did its job. Boom! That firework went off only twenty feet off the ground. Sparks flew in every direction. Jankins and I hit the ground waking a cloud of dust soon mixed with embers and dying stars of fire. I had covered my head, but poor old Jankins found his hair aflame. I was lucky and only a few burn holes showed up on the back of my jacket. Jankins jumped up and ran for the nearest horse trough. Several nearby windows shattered. The whole town seemed to stand still after the sound of the blast.
Slumberman's Sawmill on the other hand came to life. In fact, ablaze. Being a sawmill, there were piles of sawdust, wood shavings, and stacked lumber. The men had already grabbed buckets and began to put out whatever they could. And just when all seemed lost... Well, let me put it this way. Nobody had noticed the clouds that had moved in. And wouldn't you know it, we had a downpour. Curls of smoke began to rise everywhere. And we had a little help from Mother Nature herself. And from that day forth, Lewis Hardy was asked to keep the fireworks in one place. They decided the second empty bank vault was the place.
What could have been a major disaster for Misty Cove actually turned out to be the biggest mystery the town have ever known. Just how did the fuse on that firework get lite. Well, let me tell you. I know. It involved a splinter, a bench, and a sigh of relief.
You've been reading A View of the Town with Dr. Willis Fletcher. One doctor's view of a small town. Join us next time for a whole new episode where Dr. Fletcher tells the tale of the Christmas Pageant.
This episode of A View of the Town is brought to you by... "Ink. Green, Red, Blue, or Black. Ink forms to words. Ink. A writer's best friend."
This episode of A View of the Town is brought to you by... "Ink. Black, Blue, Red, or Green. Ink is always seen. Ink. It does a writer good."
And now on with A View of the Town, Episode 2. So, sit back and let's hear from Dr. Fletcher himself tell the tale of The Sawmill Incident.
July 14th, 1920. That was the day I arrived in Misty Cove. Well, here it was two weeks later, I've settled in. I've been welcomed. And my patient roster is growing. Such a nice, pleasant little coastal town with such an interesting and sordid underground of life you would never have guessed. I don't think I'll ever forget my first trip over to Slumberman's Sawmill.
Now in order to understand this story, first, I've got to take you on a side trip. On March 15, 1820, Maine became the 23rd state, under the Missouri Compromise, admitted to the United States. If you've never experienced a Maine winter, they can be colder than a witch's teat. So, the March celebrations of Maine's centennial was left for warmer weather. Come July 4th, Misty Cove set out to whoop it up. This whooping-up included the largest fireworks display ever seen in the city. However, one firework made its way to a storage shed behind Slumberman's Sawmill.
Lewis Hardy, the man in charge of the fireworks display, had decided to outfox the previous years fireworks thief. The past few years, the largest firework for the display had been absconded by a teenager who I'll tell you more about sometime later. Well, Hardy had stashed the firework in a shed to the east side of the sawmill. And was promptly forgotten. Hardy could be a little absent-minded.
On that warm Monday afternoon, here I stood at the Slumberman's where Luke Jankins, our local handyman and employee of the sawmill, had brought my new sign and had my freshly cut two-by-four. Now growing up on a farm in Ohio had taught me a few things about being a handyman myself. Not only can I use a scalpel, but I can also use a hammer. So, Jankins and I stood out front and debated of who would hang the sign and fix the back step. Now, just I was about to add my points of the debate, we heard the loudest whistle fizzing from the shed. And what happened next is hard to describe, but here goes.
The shed had a small square four-pane skylight in it so you could see when you went in. Well, the skylight's glass busted out as that forgotten lone firework burst its way through. I can only assume that since its path had been cut short was why about twenty-feet up it did its job. Boom! That firework went off only twenty feet off the ground. Sparks flew in every direction. Jankins and I hit the ground waking a cloud of dust soon mixed with embers and dying stars of fire. I had covered my head, but poor old Jankins found his hair aflame. I was lucky and only a few burn holes showed up on the back of my jacket. Jankins jumped up and ran for the nearest horse trough. Several nearby windows shattered. The whole town seemed to stand still after the sound of the blast.
Slumberman's Sawmill on the other hand came to life. In fact, ablaze. Being a sawmill, there were piles of sawdust, wood shavings, and stacked lumber. The men had already grabbed buckets and began to put out whatever they could. And just when all seemed lost... Well, let me put it this way. Nobody had noticed the clouds that had moved in. And wouldn't you know it, we had a downpour. Curls of smoke began to rise everywhere. And we had a little help from Mother Nature herself. And from that day forth, Lewis Hardy was asked to keep the fireworks in one place. They decided the second empty bank vault was the place.
What could have been a major disaster for Misty Cove actually turned out to be the biggest mystery the town have ever known. Just how did the fuse on that firework get lite. Well, let me tell you. I know. It involved a splinter, a bench, and a sigh of relief.
You've been reading A View of the Town with Dr. Willis Fletcher. One doctor's view of a small town. Join us next time for a whole new episode where Dr. Fletcher tells the tale of the Christmas Pageant.
This episode of A View of the Town is brought to you by... "Ink. Green, Red, Blue, or Black. Ink forms to words. Ink. A writer's best friend."
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