Holiday 2018 Maine Seniors Magazine

Page 1


Salvation Army Keeps Christmas Bells Ringing

Also Inside: • An Outdoorsman's Christmas Wish List • Letters from Rudolph • Peppermint Chocolate Pots De Creme and Mapledoodles • A Message for Christmas ...and so much more!

How Confident are You in Your Financial Future? Serving our clients for over 30 years Joel West Joel WestAdvisor Financial Joel West Financial Joel WestAdvisor Financial Advisor Financial Advisor

Tom Duff Duff President & BranchTom Manager Tom Duff President & BranchTom Manager Duff President & Branch Manager President & Branch Manager

With a Salvation Army Charitable Gift Annuity, you can help a lot of people. Including yourself.

Support The Salvation Army while earning fixed payments for life. • Make an irrevocable gift of $5,000 or more in cash or securities • Earn secure fixed payments for yourself for life • Add a second person if you choose • Gain an immediate tax deduction if you itemize • Enjoy preferential treatment of capital gains • Give the gift of hope to those in need – in your community, throughout New England, and around the world. To learn more, contact: Amy Anderson Director of Planned Giving 1-866-674-4391 (toll free) P.O. Box 3647, Portland, ME 04104

Investment Advisory Services offered through Raymond James Financial Services Advisors, Inc. Duff & Associates is not a registered broker/dealer and is independent of Raymond James Financial Services.

Publisher's Note


David. S. Nealley EDITOR IN CHIEF


Ian J. Marquis EDITORS

Catherine N. Zub Mark D. Roth

Lois N. Nealley Sheila Grant


Victor Oboyski

Joe Sawyer


Christine Parker Alisha Goslin Dale Overlock Larry Allen Leonard Russell A. Peter Legendre Clyde Tarr Jim Nute David Poirier Brenda Madden

Gene Staffiere Kim Reid Linda Allen Bob Bechard Jim Gorham Judy Legendre Diane Nute Paul Conley Laurie A. Poirier Jody Hinkley


Sheila Grant Dr. Len Kaye Hunter Howe Paulette Oboyski Shelagh Talbot

Larry Grard Jane Margesson Brad Eden Fia Marquis Barbara Kent Lawrence



87 Hillside Avenue, Bangor, Maine 04401 Phone: (207) 299-5358 Maine Seniors Magazine is published in the State of Maine by Maine Seniors Magazine, L.L.C. in association with Maine Media Consulting, L.L.C. All information herein represents the views of individual writers and their understanding of the issues at hand, and may not represent the views of the Maine Seniors Magazine, its management, or editorial staff. For more information about Maine Seniors Magazine, visit

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day...


he well known Christmas carol “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” was based on a poem,“Christmas Bells”, written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, on Christmas Day of 1863. His inspiration was the Civil War. And in despair I bowed my head; "There is no peace on earth," I said; "For hate is strong, And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!" Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep; The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, With peace on earth, good-will to men."

Publisher David Nealley with his fiancée, Bridget

The following and the most popular part of the carol, reminds Patricia James, the public relations manager for Salvation Army of Maine, of the bell ringers. I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day Their old familiar carols play, And wild and sweet the words repeat Of peace on earth, good will to men. Enjoy our story “Salvation Army Keeps Christmas Bells Ringing” and so much more in this wonderful Holiday Issue.

Lois Nealley, Editor and Ellen Spooner, Editor in Chief

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of our Senior Partners!

—David S. Nealley, Publisher


10 issues for $29.95 by making a check, payable to Maine Seniors Magazine. Mail to Maine Seniors Magazine, 87 Hillside Ave., Bangor, ME 04401. Bridget's pomeranian waiting for Christmas 1 • MAINE SENIORS

HOLIDAY 2018 • 2

www . days j e w el e r s . co m


Page 5

2 Publisher's Note

The Forevermark Tribute™ Collection



21 Special: The Road Best Traveled

Page 13


27 Sage Lens: Changing the Way We Talk

About Aging • BY DR. LEN KAYE

31 Just Pondering: Waiting Woe


33 The MAINE Point: The Fine Art of Slowing


Page 39

37 Legacy: Investment Policy Statements (IPS)


39 Special: Letters from Rudolph


43 A Trail Less Traveled: An Ourdoorsman's

Christmas Wish List • BY BRAD EDEN

45 From the Porch: The Puck


47 Food for Thought: New Christmas Classics


Page 21

and Forevermark Tribute™ are Trade Marks used under license from The De Beers Group of Companies.

13 Prime Mover: Kim Wettlaufer

49 Special: Miss Jones: Two Presents BY BARBARA KENT LAWRENCE



A diamond for each of your qualities

5 Prime Mover: Salvation Army

© Forevermark 2018. Forevermark®,



51 Bridging Generations: Not So Social Media


53 Special: A Message for Christmas


Recycled paper made in Maine

Page 47

HOLIDAY 2018 • 4


PRIME MOVER • Salvation Army

For 127 years, Salvation Army Red Kettles around the world have been linked to the holiday season and to compassion for the needy. However, those bells provide much more than atmosphere and nostalgia. “Last year, funds donated to these red kettles enabled The Salvation Army to provide services and programs to nearly 42,000 men, women and children throughout Maine,” said Divisional Commandeer Major Mark Mackneer. “During the holidays, the organization assisted 17,789 individuals with food baskets and food vouchers, warm winter coats, toys for youngsters and gifts for seniors.” The average holiday season in Maine sees about 400 volunteer bell ringers gathering donations and spreading cheer in more than 100 kettle locations around the state. Last year, bell ringers raised $774,119.

The average holiday season in Maine sees about 400 volunteer bell ringers gathering donations and spreading cheer in more than 100 kettle locations around the state.

Last year, bell ringers raised $774,119. Firefighter Monty Kalloch has been "manning the kettle" for the past 34 years as part of the volunteer efforts of the South Portland Professional Firefighters IAFF Local 1476.

Volunteer bell ringers are always needed. An average shift for a bell ringer can range from two to eight hours, James said. The effort comes with both joys and challenges. Some volunteers SEE THE CANADIAN BRASS CHRISTMAS SHOW!

Salvation Army Keeps Christmas Bells


In 1891, Salvation Army Captain Joseph McFee was distraught because so many poor


uring the holiday season, he resolved to provide a free Christmas dinner for the destitute and poverty stricken. As he pondered how to fund the event, his thoughts drifted back to his sailor days in Liverpool, England.


Christmas Time is Here Saturday, Dec. 22, 4 p.m.

He remembered Stage Landing, where the boats came in, and there was a large, iron kettle into which passers-by tossed a coin or two to help those less fortunate. The next day, Captain McFee placed a similar pot at the Oakland Ferry Landing at the foot of Market Street. Beside the pot, he placed a sign reading, “Keep the Pot Boiling.” According to Patricia James, public relations manager for The Salvation Army here in Maine, who shared this story, the captain soon had the money to ensure that the needy people were properly fed at Christmas.

Photo: Daniel D'Ottavio

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help out for one season; some return year after year and make it a family tradition, with two generations ringing bells together. Some bell ringers have been at it for more than three decades! Christina Pratley, of Guilford, remembers fondly her stint as a bell ringer at the Bangor Mall in 1998-99.“I was an adult student, working on my nursing degree at EMCC,” Pratley recalled. “When I heard about the bell ringer opportunity in class, it just spoke to me. I had never known any bell ringers, and assumed these were folks who were representing the Salvation Army because they received services from that organization. I never realized the range of people who ring the bell, or that it could include somebody like me.” Curious to “see how things would feel from the bell ringer side of things,” Pratley volunteered. “I was scheduled for two hours,” she said. “It was awkward at first. And it was COLD! My relief never came, so I ended up doing a four-hour stint, but as often happens, by the end, I loved doing it, and was sorry to see the next volunteer arrive – except for the cold. I had sort of expected

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PRIME MOVER • Salvation Army

to feel some sort of a vibe from passersby that I was a nuisance, or that I was ‘begging’. “People are wonderful, though,” she continued. “All sorts of people put money in the kettle; many had their children do it. None of them made me feel funny about being a bell ringer.” Pratley said she especially enjoyed watching people feel good about donating, and watching children encourage their parents to donate, as well as getting to smile and say hello as shoppers passed by. “It helps to like people if you are going to volunteer for bell ringing,” she advised. “Dress very warmly, and bring tissues if you are a person with a nose that runs in the cold!” Monty Kalloch, a South Portland firefighter, became a bell ringer as part of the volunteer efforts of the South Portland Professional Firefighters IAFF Local 1476. Kalloch learned about bell ringing from fellow firefighter Tim Carr.


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I Heard the Bells...

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“The poem [Christmas Bells] by Henry Wadsworth Salvation Army Red Kettles and the bell ringers that greet folks outside of stores during the Christmas season,” said Patricia James, public relations manager for The Salvation Army here in Maine. The poem reads, in part: I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day Their old familiar carols play, Of peace on earth, good will to men.

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The Salvation Army is only one of a number of nonprofits supported by the Local 1476, but the agency holds a special place in Kalloch’s heart.“Back in the day when I was brand new, The Salvation Army had a mobile kitchen truck and they would have coffee, cocoa, and sometimes meals like chop suey. A lot of times they would have donuts and energy bars. When there was a big fire in the middle of the night, that [food truck] was part of what happened.” A lot has changed over the years. “Back when we first started ringing the bell, we had a fiberglass red kettle that was about five feet across that hung on a gigantic tripod,” Kalloch said. “It was covered with chicken wire and red velvet, with a hole in it [where donations went in].” Over time, new rules at The Maine Mall prohibited the bell ringing, and the giant kettle went by the wayside. “We call it ‘manning the kettle’ now,” said Kalloch. “My late friend Harry Weymouth, a lieutenant with the fire department, and I manned the kettle in the doorway to the food court for quite a few years, but there was too much hustle and bustle, and it was cold and people were anxious to get to their cars. The only place left inside for a kettle is in front of Sears. I’ve been there the past two years; I’ll be there this year. Things have changed a lot over 30 years – and the kettle is a lot smaller, too!” One of Kalloch’s favorite things about bell ringing, “you can see from 20 feet away, and hear from two feet away,” he said.“Parents use this as an opportunity to teach their children about giving. If someone tosses in their loose change, that’s great; if someone writes a check, that’s great, too. But what really warms the heart is parents going out of their way to teach their children about giving. That is probably what’s kept me enamored with this means of charitable fundraising.”

Longfellow, a Portland, Maine native, reminds me of The

And wild and sweet the words repeat

“I don’t know how many years he’d been doing it, but each year he would come around and ask for volunteers,” Kalloch said.“After a number of years, he retired. I’ve been doing it for the past 34 years.”

Firefighters sometimes bring their children along, as well, and off-duty crew will drop by to visit and help pass the time. “I put up schedules, and other crew, and sometimes people in costume, will stop by and someone will take photos,” said Kalloch.“You get to converse with work mates, and there’s a lot of fun that goes

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on. We used to purchase candy canes, but The Salvation Army provides them now, so if parents want children to have a sweet, that’s possible, too.”


It’s best to volunteer in pairs, Kalloch advised, to enable breaks and to help pass the time.“Wear comfortable shoes,” he advised. “Dress nicely, or festively, if you are inside. I wear my fire department uniform. But otherwise, you kind of have to dress for comfort [in the cold].”

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The Salvation Army’s mission is incredible,” Kalloch said.“They give back so much to the local community. Bellringing,“ he added, "is a wonderful way to donate to the organization. They can always use more people to ring the bells. It warms your heart to do something good for people you may never meet, and it’s also an ability to give without taking money out of your pocket that you may or may not have.” MSM

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Readers interested in volunteering as a Salvation Army Bell Ringer should contact a local Salvation Army office, call Divisional Headquarters in Portland at 1-866-674-4391, or visit

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PRIME MOVER • Kim Wettlaufer


From 2007-2010 the After-School Tutoring Program provided academic support for local youth, filling a need until the local school department created more extensive, school-based programs. When the partnership with the Salvation Army ended, the Jubilee Center began serving hot lunches six days a week. The Jubilee Center’s Resource Center already offered services including staff assistance addressing problems, phone, fax, and internet access, and a mailing address for homeless patrons. The Center’s services expanded again with the addition of the Free Clinic, which provided medical attention to those in need. The center is open six days a week and offers five programs: the Meals Program, Food Pantry, Day Shelter, Resource Center, and Refugee Integration Program. More than 1,000 people are served by these programs every week. Kim Wettlaufer, the man who helped shepherd Lewiston’s Jubilee Center through the city’s Somali refugee surge, is naturally inclined toward kindness.“Kimmy,” as the former Bates College All-American runner is known to some, goes out of his



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Kim Wettlaufer helps a student with her homework at the Trinity Jubilee Center.

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In 2001 the center at Trinity Episcopal Church in Lewiston was recognized as a Jubilee Center of the Episcopal Church, the first in Maine, and was renamed the Trinity Jubilee Center.


lso, in 2001, the Trinity Jubilee Center (TJC) was officially incorporated as a 501(c)3 non-profit. The center was now a separate, non-religious organization, although the Trinity Church continued to allow the Center to use the first floor of the building.


The Jubilee Center continued to grow, becoming a United Way Agency and partnering with Bates College Dining Services and St. Mary’s D’Youville Pavilion to receive food donations. The center served hot meals four days a week and the Salvation Army used the facility to provide meals on the other three days. Donations of clothing and household goods were accepted and distributed. In 2007 the center hired its first full-time Executive Director. The Jubilee Center’s day shelter became the official Warming Center for the city of Lewiston. As refugees began to arrive in the city, the Refugee Integration Program was created to best meet their unique needs.

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On Route 1 Hancock , ME * 207-460-4104 Erin Reed, current executive director at Trinity Jubilee Center, helps out a young woman. Photo by Larry Grard HOLIDAY 2018 • 1 4

PRIME MOVER • Kim Wettlaufer


"Trinity is like family. Everybody watches out for each other. A lot of the people we serve,

Thanks... for helping us get there!

they don’t have family."

Wettlaufer shuns attention. A volunteer at the center since her high school days, Reed recalled a time when Wettlaufer noticed that a pair of old, worn shoes a man was wearing were the same size as his own. “He gave his shoes to the man,” Reed said. “He would give you the shirt off his back.” Jimi Zee, who had occasion to go to the Jubilee Center for help, said he met Wettlaufer at a critical point in his life, more than a decade ago. “I met Kim during a crossroads in life,” Zee said. “I was breaking away from a broken mental health system and I was very inspired by Kim to do what I thought was best for me. He understood that my mental illness was in remission and helped me figure out what to do with the rest of my life.” Zee has progressed in remarkable fashion. “I now speak to groups of mental health professionals educating them from my real personal experiences having lived in the mental health system,” he said.“I cannot speak more highly of Kim's compassion for everyone.”

Kim Wettlaufer is surrounded by the Trinity Jubilee Center board of directors, as they named the dining room at the center in his honor.

way to protect people. A case in point is a high school baseball game that Wettlaufer covered as a sports writer for the Lewiston Sun Journal. The Edward Little Red Eddies had lost because of a costly error by one of the players. Rather than embarrass the young man, Wettlaufer chose to omit the name of the player, a practice that continued through his career at the Sun Journal. Wettlaufer, who has remained in Lewiston since graduating from Bates in1980, left the newspaper in the late 80s to become owner of Subway franchises, and continue coaching Lewiston High track and cross country. A little more than a decade later, in 2001, he began what has become a lifelong affiliation with the Trinity Jubilee Center, the agency for which he served as executive director from 2007-14. “After 17 years running Subway,” Wettlaufer said, “I was ready to step away from day-to-day operations. “I said I would serve 15 • MAINE SENIORS

as the center'sexecutive director until they found someone else. I liked it a lot. I enjoyed the interaction with folks in need.” Noting that Lewiston was home to many people in need since the mills closed in the 1960’s, Wettlaufer said, “The need was there. It became seven days a week.” Then, in 2005-2006, that need ramped up even more. Somalie refugees, mostly from Kenya, began pouring into Lewiston’s inexpensive housing, and needed services. “The food pantry went from serving 30 families up to 250 families on Thursday mornings,” Wettlaufer recalled.“We built trust with the refugee population. They had come from refugee camps – the most horrible conditions you can imagine. We gave them food and we got to know them, and we would help them with other things. They also needed translators.” Erin Reed, current Executive Director of the Jubilee Center, speaking toward the tail end of a 14-hour day, said that

Wettlaufer takes pride in the fact that the Jubilee Center has been able to build trust with the refugee population.“We helped them integrate their children into the schools. We started helping get these kids out for sports and the biggest sport within the Somali population was soccer.” The Somali kids, in turn, put Lewiston on the state’s soccer map. Mike McGraw, high school soccer coach for 35 years and an assistant to the late Paul Nadeau, led the Blue Devils to their first-ever state soccer championship in 2015. They won again last year and were a top-shelf team again this year. Lewiston’s newfound prowess on the soccer field inspired the book One Goal, by 1992 Bates graduate Amy Bass. One Goal was updated by Bass to include Lewiston’s 2017 soccer exploits, following several trips to Lewiston to watch the Blue Devils. Bass talked to McGraw and his coaching staff and to the players, many of whom hailed from several African countries. She talked to their parents and to Wettlaufer. She visited players’ homes, classrooms and even the locker rooms.

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PRIME MOVER • Kim Wettlaufer


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James Bellmore shakes hands with Kim Wettlaufer. Contributed photo

At the Amazon web site, an introduction to One Goal sets the stage for Bass’ book: “The tradition of Friday Night Lights and Outcasts United, One Goal tells the inspiring story of the soccer team in a town bristling with racial tension that united Somali refugees and multi-generation Mainers in their quest for state— and ultimately national—glory. “When thousands of Somali refugees resettled in Lewiston, Maine, a struggling, overwhelmingly white town, longtime residents grew uneasy. Then the mayor wrote a letter asking Somalis to stop coming, which became a national story. While scandal threatened to subsume the town, its high school's soccer coach integrated Somali kids onto his team, and their passion began to heal old wounds. Taking readers behind the

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tumult of this controversial team—and onto the pitch where the teammates vied to become state champions and achieved a vital sense of understanding—“One Goal is a timely story about overcoming the prejudices that divide us.”

as much attention as ever with Reed at the helm. “She’s done a great job navigating the problems that the community is facing,” he said. “It’s a harder situation now. It’s clothing and jobs and medical needs now, instead of just a hangout.”

At Jubilee, Wettlaufer was ‘the soccer guy’. “It was more than sports,” he said of Lewiston’s state titles. “It was a validation of their place in the Lewiston community. They play street soccer all the time.”

Reed puts in some long days, as do the volunteers.“When we’re open it’s a mix of immediate needs and long-term needs,” she said. “There are people sleeping outdoors who need hand warmers and sleeping bags. We help somebody get on their feet, get job and then somebody brand new comes in."

Mostly, Wettlaufer was a “hands-on” executive director, leaving Reed with most of the administrative work. Calvin Dube served as the psychological director. Then, fatherhood changed Kim’s life. “I went to part-time,” he said. Then I became a volunteer.” Wettlaufer and his wife, Carolyn, are the parents of Miles, 5 and Leila, 3. Kim is happy as he can be to play the role of “Mr. Mom” when Carolyn, a nurse practitioner, puts in long days. Wettlaufer knows the people at the Jubilee Center are getting

Reed, who volunteered at a homeless shelter when she was a teenager living in Boston, jumped right into the Jubilee Center when her family moved to Lewiston.“I was just a teenager when I rode my bike down here and washed dishes,” she recalled. “Trinity is like family. Everybody watches out for each other. A lot of the people we serve, they don’t have family. When it’s someone’s birthday, everybody sings ‘Happy Birthday’ to them. They’re grateful for the respect.” MSM

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Traveled Dad Don Campbell

Infinity Wedding Cross Door to Dad’s Den… note wooden hinges

On a fine September day, a beautiful young woman married the love of her life and their story began.


hey moved with 4 small children all the way to New York so they could attend Bible College together. Three years later, they returned to make a permanent home in Maine, but now it was with a family of seven.

When it came to money or material things, there may have been a lack; however, God had given this family love and talents that made them rich indeed. Don and Aggie Campbell spent the following years raising their family, working at jobs and pastoring a small country church for 43+ years in Hampden, Maine. Their love story lasted for 62 years; yielded seven children and children-in-law, 13 grandchildren and 43 great-grandchildren plus a wonderful church family. The Lord greatly blessed.


Their love story lasted for 62 years;

yielded seven children and children-in-law, 13 grandchildren and 43 great-grandchildren plus a wonderful church family.

The Lord greatly blessed.

On March 5, 2013, the Lord decided that it was time to call our Mom home. For the first time in almost 3/4 of a century, Dad had to learn how to carry on without his best friend by his side. It was a real struggle for quite a while; keeping a journal and learning how to not be consumed by this tremendous loss. One morning, while having his daily devotions, the Lord gave Dad a gift in the form of a verse that was a turning point for him. That verse can be found in Ecclesiastes 6:9, from the New Living Translation: HOLIDAY 2018 • 2 2


SPECIAL Birdhouses for Children in Belfast

More birdhouses

It would be impossible to even begin to list all of the projects that Dad has done since his journey began. A couple of projects were for him…a“Man Cave” in one son’s house and“Dad’s Den” in his daughter’s camp. Creating these rooms gave him a boost and a focus. His first big outside project was for his great-grandson, Hunter’s, kindergarten class. He made 23 birdhouse kits that he, his son and great granddaughter went to the Leroy Smith School in Winterport and built with the 1st grade class. What creations they made! That led to him making 90+ more bird house kits for a ministry that works with after school/latchkey kids in Belfast; 15 for the Junior Church group and 10 for a fund raiser for “Meals From Maine,” a ministry in Bangor that packs food for starving children around the world. The

Hand stained Shingles and Hand Built Bed in Dad's Den

Dad in Mancave… note: lost part of left hand in industrial accident in 1962.

Chandilier at Camp

A Birdhouse Puzzle

One of the many talents that God has given to Dad is the art of woodworking. He has used this talent many, many times before.

Robotic Assisted Knee Replacements Dr. Akhil Sastry

The inside of the Birdhouse Puzzle

"Enjoy what you have rather than desiring what you don't have. Just dreaming about nice things is meaningless—like chasing the wind." One of the many talents that God has given to Dad is the art of woodworking. He has used this talent many, many times before, while renovating a wonderful family home with Mom, as well as doing a multitude of projects for other people. Now, with the encouragement God gave him through this verse, he prays about his place in ministry and his new role in life. Clearly, God not only gave him a talent for woodworking but also gave him the gift of encouragement. Now these skills would be the vehicle he would use to navigate this new, uncharted territory. To God be the glory! 23 • MAINE SENIORS

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HOLIDAY 2018 • 2 4



He built camp Kitchen Cupboards from Old Fence Rails

little church-shaped bird houses were such a hit that Dad soon had a long list of requests, making each creation more elaborate than the last. Such was the start of a ministry driven by a servant’s heart and love for his Lord. . . from renovating the lion’s share of a daughter’s apartment in Bucksport to an Infinity Cross to bless a young Winterport couple’s wedding; projects for the Biker Church Ministry in Brewer and a lending library in the back of the Hampden church . . . the projects and blessings continue. Although the sense of loss and the Mom-shaped hole in his 87-year- old heart can never be filled by anything or anyone else, God has given Dad the strength and the compassion to continue on to be a blessing to so many. Even when he is not crafting anything, you can always count on him sharing a word of encouragement, a handshake or a hug to anyone who may need it.

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There can be life beyond loss. Dad had a choice of which road he would take...He chose the "Road Best Traveled". MSM

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Medicare evaluates plans based on a 5-star rating system. Star Ratings are calculated each year and may change from one year to the next. Generations Advantage 2019 Overall Ratings: 5 Stars for HMO Contract H5591; 4.5 Stars for LPPO Contract H1365. RPPO Contract R0802 was too new to receive a 2019 Star Rating. Visit www. for more information. For more information on Generations Advantage, you can also call 1-877-553-7054 (TTY:711). We’re available 8 am–8 pm, seven days a week from October 1 to March 31; and Monday through Friday the rest of the year. This is an advertisement. Martin’s Point Generations Advantage is a health plan with a Medicare contract offering HMO, HMO-POS, HMO SNP, Local and Regional PPO products. Enrollment in a Martin’s Point Generations Advantage plan depends on contract renewal. Martin’s Point Health Care complies with applicable Federal civil rights laws and does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, national origin, age, disability, or sex. ATTENTION: Si vous parlez français, des services d’aide linguistique vous sont proposés gratuitement. Appelez le 1-877-553-7054 (ATS : 711). ATENCIÓN: si habla español, tiene a su disposición servicios gratuitos de asistencia lingüística. Llame al 1-877-553-7054 (TTY: 711). Y0044_2019_167_M Accepted: 10/23/18

HOLIDAY 2018 • 2 6

The result of negative thinking about older age is what has been called ageism—distorted and stereotypical views of old people based solely on their age. Ageism is commonly reflected in our view that growing old means, first and foremost, decline, illness,

and vulnerability.

changing the way we

well-being. Of course, we know this not to be true—witness the uplifting stories shared each month in Maine Seniors Magazine of active, engaged, and productive individuals grappling with life’s challenges but still managing their lives and functioning adequately.


One way we can all fight ageism and the negative perception of old age is to be more intentional in how we describe older people. We can do this by avoiding a series of classic communication traps. The first trap is our tendency to present aging as both an inevitable and insurmountable problem for both ourselves as we grow older and society. This tendency taps into fear, and fear is not productive. Yes, aging presents challenges, but it also creates opportunities for our nation, our communities, and ourselves. The second trap is our inclination to refer to older adults as incapacitated and needy in an effort to tug on the public’s heartstrings which, in the end, only serves to reinforce stereotypes of the pitiful and vulnerable older person. The third trap (which I am guilty of falling into at times) is to try to overcome negative views of aging by highlighting the accomplishments of extraordinary elders. This only serves to overemphasize notions of individualism and personal responsibility for achieving a successful old age and downplays the shared responsibility of society to be supportive of the aging experience. The fourth trap is the tendency to pit one group (old people) against another (younger people) by creating an “us versus them” scenario in which both groups are competing for scarce resources. This is ultimately not productive either, encouraging competition and resultant hostility across the generations and does not allow us to consider the advantages and opportunities that can result from collaborative and inclusive thinking when solving problems.

talk about aging Words matter—a lot! The way in which we talk about aging and growing old can be very influential in how those we are speaking to form impressions about old people and the experience of old age.


would go so far as to say that because of the descriptions we frequently use to describe older adults, the experience and conditions of older adults generally result in being misinterpreted and misunderstood by the general public. Those misunderstandings can lead to unproductive and negative personal beliefs, and in turn, ill-conceived policies and programs. The result of negative thinking about older age is what has been called ageism—distorted and stereotypical views of old people based solely on their age. Ageism is commonly reflected in our view that growing old means, first and foremost, decline, illness, and vulnerability. The assumption, by too many of us, is that nothing much can be done to improve the experience of being old and that if our bodies are functioning at anything less than full performance we are incapable of physical and psychological 27 • MAINE SENIORS

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If you want to learn more about the public’s negative perception of aging and how we can start changing it, I strongly encourage you to check out an important report that provides excellent strategies that each of us can employ to change the way we think about aging. The report was produced by the Frameworks Institute and is called Finding the Frame: An Empirical Approach to Reframing Aging and Ageism. This month’s column draws on the results of this report, the outcome of three years of careful research. Finding the Frame aims to provide ways to “help the public get smarter about the possibilities of effective aging policies” and “build a more diverse, equitable, and inclusive America.”

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We all can benefit by reframing or rethinking what we have to say about aging and starting to tell a common and more balanced story that separates myth from reality and fact from fallacy. Done right, a new frame of thinking, recognizing that aging has both positive and negative outcomes, can lead to a more realistic, constructive, and optimistic understanding of what it means to grow old. MSM

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Ya know, leave it to old Will Rogers to set us straight with,“The older we get, the fewer things seem worth waiting in line for.” Except rum

raisin ice cream.

While waiting, my cantankerous side conjures up all sorts of sarcastic retorts. Say, I’d appreciate a sincere condolence comment, such as “I’m so sorry Mr. Clark.” No way. You see, you’re met with, “I had an emergency.” What do you do with that? I nod and utter a practiced whimper,“OK.” No kidding, I’ve had the urge to bolt many times. Problem is, I’m there to get fixed. If I leave, I have to come back and wait all over again.

It’s a miserable experience, one that breeds boredom, frustration, exhaustion, anger, even rage. Emotional numbness consumes our body, psychological defeat lurks.


t’s that whirlpool of never-ending WAITING. Admit it, I’ll bet reading this word makes your blood boil.

Dr. Richard Haven, a professor at M.I.T.’s Institute for Data, Systems, and Society, said, “The average American spends two years waiting in lines.” Hmm. I pondered how much time’s lost between sitting on the john and waiting in a chair or line. Gobs. In April, my ENT kept me waiting for 50 minutes. He opened the door to my silent stare and offered up a weak apology. Why bother? My dermatologist kept me waiting for 20 minutes— tolerable—until he opened the door, glanced at me, and said, “Sorry Waldo, wrong room.” No, don’t go! He returned and yes, offered up a weak apology. My chiropractor’s assistant moved me from the waiting room to the on-deck room. Nice try.


Inspirational writer and speaker Ogwo David Evenike said, “Waiting is a form of passive persistence.” I’ll add “punishment.” I wondered if he drew that cartoon of a skeleton propped up in a waiting room chair. It seems like life is one long waiting line. We wait in line at banks, toll booths, sporting events, drug stores, post offices, traffic jams, airports, drive throughs, among others. And to add insult to injury, we endure those jarring, head-pounding words, “Excuse me sir, you’re in the wrong line.” The worst line, of course, is the restroom one. I found this tidbit on the web: “Line dancing was started by women waiting to use the bathroom.” The grocery store check-out line takes the cake. I’m sandwiched between a lady with three shopping carts full of cholesterolinducing goodies and a snarly, impatient man with 4 items. The lady searches her purse for those elusive pennies while the man bangs his cart into my legs. I grab a can of Altoids and a gossip magazine with the headlines, “World Will End on the 19th" (tomorrow). Great, no need for groceries. Then it happens. The clerk finds a ripped bag of potato chips and sends a runner to the far reaches of aisle 10 for another. Now I’m snarly. David Letterman said, “At the Apple Store, the people waiting in line for the iPhone 6 were trampled by the people waiting in line for the iPhone 7.” Then there are the high-on-life folks, those cheerleaders of optimism and uplifting thoughts. They tell us that waiting in line is unavoidable and that practicing anxiety reduction is helpful. Reduction? I thought cooks employed this with their secret sauces. Here’s another tidbit from The National Institutes of Health: “Studies suggest promoting mindfulness may help us manage stress, reduce anxiety and depression and develop an inward ability to relax.” Good grief, just reading this makes me cranky. Maine Seniors, keep that in mind when you have an urgent need to pee while waiting in the restroom line. Ya know, leave it to old Will Rogers to set us straight with,“The older we get, the fewer things seem worth waiting in line for.” Except rum raisin ice cream.


HOLIDAY 2018 • 3 2

The Fine Art of


When I was a child, I loved to go fast.

My favorite pastime was a manic card game called “Racing Demon” and my dad and I loved to “race” one another—at six-feet-one he easily outpaced me but always let me win—in a game we called “Top Speed.”


omewhere in an old shoe box are reels of film my father shot on his Super 8 of me, sledding on the hill behind our house in the early 70s. I literally part company with my tiny sled as I sail over the snowy mounds left behind by woodchuck families living in tunnels below. At the time, I thought this was heart-pounding fun!

These days, my heart seems to be pounding for another reason. I’m running at“top speed” yet I don’t seem to be able to get ahead. The barrage of emails, texts, dings, dongs and swooshes on my phone never seems to stop. I’m so busy I don’t have time to meet friends for a quick coffee much less lunch. Enough! One of the activities I enjoyed the most this year was taking an afternoon and going kayaking on the Presumpscot River near where I live. Drifting along, time really did seem to come to a full stop. The only swoosh I heard was the occasional gurgle of my paddle as I lazily dipped it into the water. No emails, no dings or dongs. 33 • MAINE SENIORS

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With the New Year on the horizon, I am hoping to carve out more moments like these, so I can breathe and feel the time actually pass instead of wondering where it went.

Happy Holidays From all of us at Maine Seniors Magazine!



belt out a few carols. There are also multiple coffees and happy hours scheduled in different towns such as Lewiston, Bangor, Portland, and Augusta. (Go to for all the details!) These get-togethers offer fun ways to meet others and enjoy some light-hearted conversation.

In wishing all of you a happy 2019, I also wish you the chance to slow things down a bit. Let’s enjoy a heartwarming rather than a heart-pounding holiday season.

Here’s to a very happy and healthy New Year for us all!

What I have discovered is that ways to capture quality time are often within easy reach. For example, some of the activities my office has organized for our members and their families include light excursions out and about in Maine. Assignments and deadlines mean that I rarely take part, but this year I’m going to! Wassailing on the Eastern Trail will be a joyous way to celebrate the holidays on December 22nd and I’m excited to

In 2019, I’m also going to make time for those oft-missed lunches and chats with my friends. This past year, several people I love had health scares. One person I have known since we were infants was in Raleigh, NC when the hurricane hit. She and her family are fine, but it’s good to remember that life can be very unpredictable. I would hate to miss a chance to spend time with treasured friends because I was attending to my incessantly dinging, donging phone. In wishing all of you a happy 2019, I also wish you the chance to slow things down a bit. Let’s enjoy a heartwarming rather than a heart-pounding holiday season. Here’s to a very happy and healthy New Year for us all! MSM

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We are available 8 am-8 pm, seven days a week from October 1 to March 31; and Monday through Friday the rest of the year. Medicare evaluates plans based on a 5-star rating system. Star Ratings are calculated each year and may change from one year to the next. Generations Advantage HMO plans (Contract H5591) received a 5-star Overall Rating for plan year 2019. Visit www. for more information. Premiums vary by plan and county, and range from $0–$99. You must continue to pay your Medicare Part B premium. This is not a complete description of benefits. Limitations, copayments, and restrictions may apply. Contact the plan for more information. Benefits, premiums and/or copayments/coinsurance may change on January 1 of each year. Plan selection information from Medicare Advantage/Part D Contract and Enrollment Data reports available at www.cms. gov. Martin’s Point Generations Advantage is a health plan with a Medicare contract offering HMO, HMO-POS, HMO SNP, Local and Regional PPO products. Enrollment in a Martin’s Point Generations Advantage plan depends on contract renewal. Martin’s Point Health Care complies with applicable Federal civil rights laws and does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, national origin, age, disability, or sex. ATTENTION: Si vous parlez français, des services d’aide linguistique vous sont proposés gratuitement. Appelez le 1-877-553-7054 (ATS : 711). ATENCIÓN: si habla español, tiene a su disposición servicios gratuitos de asistencia lingüística. Llame al 1-877-553-7054 (TTY: 711). Y0044_2019_184_M Accepted: 11/17/2018



initial public offerings, and margin. Finally, it can specify the frequency with which each investment is reviewed, and the portfolio rebalanced to target allocations. Using the car/GPS analogy, these written guidelines establish the rules of the road: discouraging the temptation to take too much risk by“breaking the speed limit” and going all in on stocks and prohibiting “off-road riding” into areas of risky and exotic investments which can tempt any investor looking for a shortcut to long-term success.

An IPS is like a GPS for Your Investment Portfolio Brian Bernatchez, CFP®


f you drove a car to Boston prior to the invention of the Global Positioning System (GPS) you can probably recount horror stories of missing turns, getting off the wrong exits, heading down one-way streets the wrong way, trying to reach a building that you could look up and see but just couldn’t find the right road to get there (I once even ran out of gas in downtown Boston after driving around aimlessly confused by the conflicting directions I received from disinterested pedestrians on the side of the road.) The GPS has made travel for those of us with no sense of direction so much more efficient and less stressful. A written Investment Policy Statement (IPS) can act much like a GPS for your investment portfolio, providing you and your financial adviser with guidance and limits with a goal of providing a sustainable and growing income stream throughout your retirement journey. The IPS is a simple yet powerful document that spells out an acceptable allocation range to target in stocks, bonds, and cash. The IPS also provides flexibility to allow the investment advisers to tilt the allocation towards and away from stocks and bonds to adjust to current and future market conditions. In most cases, our IPS for retirees allows for a range of 50% to 70% in stocks and 30% to 50% in bonds. The IPS places further limitations on the allocation inside the stock and bond sleeves, requiring the core of each to be invested in stock and bond asset classes which have historically had the 37 • MAINE SENIORS

least amount of downside risk. The IPS can also establish longterm annualized return targets for your portfolio and indicate what benchmarks the portfolio and each investment in it will be measured against. The IPS also states investments which are prohibited: options and futures contracts, short sales, non-marketable securities,

A written spending policy which governs the amount you can withdraw from your portfolio can also be incorporated into your IPS. A typical spending policy will limit the annual withdrawals to 3%-5% of the previous year-end value. To provide for less fluctuation in withdrawals it can be calculated based on the average ending balance of the 3 previous calendar years. Taking the time and effort to establish a simple IPS for your retirement portfolio can provide you with a GPS which ignores

the inevitable short-term bumps in the road to keep the focus on the ultimate long-term destination of retirement income security. Once established, your IPS should be reviewed every few years, but just as importantly, it should be reread out loud during times when greed and fear attempt to block your GPS signal. (Be sure to pull off to the side of the road when you read it!) During bull markets… like the period since the Great Recession, most investors will be tempted to ignore their IPS and drive way beyond their posted speed limit by delaying a reallocation from stocks to bonds. The IPS can be that friendly yet stern state trooper who pulls you over to warn of curvy and bumpy roads ahead filled with bears just waking from hibernation. MSM The opinions voiced in this material are for general information only and are not intended to provide specific advice or recommendations for any individual. All performance referenced is historical and is no guarantee of future results. All investing involves risk including loss of principal. No strategy assures success or protects against loss. Securities and advisory services offered through LPL Financial, a registered investment advisor. Member FINRA/SIPC.

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HOLIDAY 2018 • 3 8



Letters from rudolph:

It should be noted that on the same street as the church was a little house practically made invisible by trees and bushes. It belonged to a widowed woman who, quite frankly, was a scary-looking individual and, although we kids had seen her in the last pew at church on occasion, rumors spread about her being a witch. One of my friends even said the old woman shook a broom at her. “I’ll bet she takes that out flying,” my friend snickered. We were convinced. Even during the weeks after Halloween we’d hurry past her house lest she run out and grab us.

A Red-Nosed Reindeer Christmas

Now it was getting close to Christmas and still no letter from Rudolph. My friends hadn’t heard a thing either. All our mothers were in the rectory planning Christmas baskets for the less fortunate, including the scary lady. When the pastor asked, none of the kids would volunteer to take her a basket, but I remember my mother nudging me hard and, in spite of myself, my hand went up.“We have a volunteer!” the pastor exclaimed. BY SHELAGH TALBOT

Come Home to Lakewood...

When I was growing up in the fifties

my most memorable Christmas involved, of all things, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I was seven when I first heard Gene Autry sing about him on the radio; I thought he was the coolest reindeer ever.


t church one Sunday the pastor asked us children what we would like to have for Christmas. I piped up and said I’d like a letter from Rudolph. Well, you can imagine, all the kids laughed, some grownups too. “Why Rudolph?” one of my little friends asked.“Why not Santa himself?” I remember saying something about Santa being too busy for that kind of stuff and again, everyone laughed. Everyone except two of my friends who said they’d like to hear from Rudolph too. As we filed out of church that day, the pastor touched me on the arm and smiled.“I hope he writes to you,” he said.


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My mother was proud—“You’re doing the right thing,” she grinned. I was terrified, but of course pretended otherwise. When the big delivery day came, my father and I walked through a rusty gate and up the path to the porch. My dad lugged the big box containing a turkey with all the traditional fixings—squash, breads, cranberry sauce, gravy and potatoes, while I carried a Christmas wreath with a bright red bow. Dad went back to the car as I knocked on the heavy front door and waited. After what seemed like years, a squinty face appeared at the window next to the door.“Get off my porch!” she yelled.“Merry Christmas,” I quavered.“Here’s a gift from your church.” There was considerable rustling and mumbling from the other side of the door and then she opened it just a slit.“Leave it there and go away!” she growled, and then looked at me pointedly. “Didn’t I see you at the church asking for a letter from Rudolph?” I gulped and nodded. “Who ever heard of reindeer writing letters,” she scoffed and slammed the door. I jumped and ran to the car as fast as I could. Time flew and I pretty much forgot about getting any mail. We all were busy rehearsing for the annual pageant, making our Christmas wish lists, and decorating our homes with all things Christmassy. Then my father came home with a letter

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addressed to me—the return address was the North Pole! Oh my—it’s a letter from Rudolph! I took the letter to the table and carefully opened it. It was a two-page, carefully handwritten letter and I must have read it a hundred times.“Dear Shelagh….” It began, and it was filled with personal touches about me—my love of drawing and horses, my trying to be very good; it even mentioned my friends. Rudolph said he was writing to them too! That Sunday we compared notes. All our letters were different, and all seemed quite personal. “How do you suppose Rudolph knows all this stuff about us?” one friend asked with nervous excitement. “Maybe he talks to Santa,” the other suggested. “Santa knows everything, right?” The next week we each got one more letter. Rudolph explained his schedule was getting tight but he wanted us each to have a very Merry Christmas.The other kids were envious and we felt pretty smug. Christmas came and went and February was almost gone, when the pastor stopped me. He pointed to the shabby house down the street.“Can you keep a secret?” he asked. I nodded solemnly.

“That's Mrs. Evans. She was so touched by the Christmas basket you brought; she wanted to do something special for you. I suggested she write you a letter from Rudolph, and she included letters for your friends too.” It took me a while to digest. At first, I was crushed—after all, I was thinking a reindeer wrote my special letters, not some old lady. But then, I recalled seeing how shaky the writing had seemed; I thought it was just an issue with hoofs. I never let on to my friends, but l told my father. He suggested I go thank her and I did. This time, when I climbed the rickety porch, she invited me into her home, which didn’t seem quite so creepy after all. Just filled with “old lady” things. She gave me cocoa and cookies and I discovered we had something in common– drawing. She had been an artist, quite famous in her time. We talked and laughed and from then on, I would visit as much as I could. Belatedly, it turned out to be the best Christmas surprise ever and I made a point to spread the word about the kind old lady who lived in the tumbledown house up the street from our church. MSM

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My wife and daughters text back and forth secretly plotting what presents to buy for me.

An Outdoorsman's Christmas

Wish List As we age material things become much less important and intangibles take their place.



ost of us can remember Christmas mornings when we were little tykes. For me, those memories of anticipation and the joy of seeing piles of presents under the Christmas tree have never left my foggy memory bank. I can remember particular Christmas mornings when I got exactly what I wished for, and other Christmas mornings when I was sorely disappointed.“Things” meant so much back then. Nowadays, my family struggles to try and figure out what I want and need for Christmas. My wife and daughters text back and forth secretly plotting what presents to buy for me. Truth is I really don’t want anything since I already have everything I need. A safe and healthy family is enough. But wives and children derive happiness from giving, so I am glad to receive and thank them for anything I unwrap on Christmas morning. But my true Christmas wish list doesn’t include any material things. As winter takes its grip I wish for modest snowfall, not just because moving snow gets harder every year at our house in the woods, but for the benefit of all the wild creatures that struggle to survive during a Maine winter. While we are warm in our homes, the whitetail deer, moose, wild turkeys, ruffed grouse and a plethora of other critters are outside dealing with the harsh conditions. Certainly, they are hardy and adaptive to the conditions, but particularly severe winters can take a toll on them. I think of them when storms rage outside my window. I’m a real estate agent's worse nightmare because I hate to see development. Our state is nearly 95% privately owned, and 43 • MAINE SENIORS

I wish more men would mentor and introduce not only their sons but also daughters and wives and sisters to traditional outdoor sports. I am optimistic these days by seeing more young girls and women in the field than ever before. As a dad with two daughters this is a personal crusade and I hope that every little girl, if she wants, will join her dad in the outdoors or on a visit to deer camp, and that goes for wives as well. outdoors people rely on the generosity of landowners for access to that private land to enjoy our lifestyle. So, I wish that development were held in check. I lose a bird cover or two to new houses every season, and land I covet inevitably gets sold, and cut off, and No Trespassing or No Hunting signs sprout up. That is discouraging for someone who prefers rocky trails to sidewalks.

I wish more consumptive outdoors people (hunters and fishermen) would engage non-consumptive outdoors people (hikers and nature lovers) in meaningful discussions and debates on issues like game management, wildlife conservation, and forestry practices that benefit all wildlife. With this column as my pulpit that certainly has come true, and the generally positive

response from a predominantly non-hunter readership assures me that my drivel has built some rickety bridges. I am also sensing more acceptance of the hunter-gatherer and locavore lifestyle, with increased understanding and interest in procuring and preparing healthy wild game. I especially wish my dogs would never grow old. I’m a self-employed loner and my dogs are always at my side. When I lose another of my faithful companions the pain is so deep that I wonder if maybe I only have so many dogs in me. But inevitably along comes another puppy to enrich my life. My Springer Spaniel Cash is carrying the current torch in the upland bird covers and in my heart, as well as our precocious little King Charles Cavalier Spaniel Luna. A final and admittedly selfish wish is to stay physically healthy enough in my senior years, so I can continue to follow my dogs into the wonders of fall after upland birds, and be able to track a whitetail buck up into the mountains in winter, and wade a rushing springtime stream with my fly rod after native brook trout. I know this is a long and convoluted wish list, but I hope that Santa Claus grants me a few. MSM

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it had hit the back of the net. So how did it end up in the Howe family? A mystery forever.


Through objects, we connect with the past. My attachment to THE PUCK provided me with nostalgic significance, referred to by some psychologists as “Object Nostalgia.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote,

Nostalgia is not only triggered by old photographs, the list of objects endless: books, letters, post cards, bookmarks, cookie jars, and on. They’re a voice from the past. They speak to us. They’re meaningful. John Updike said, “In memory’s telephoto lens, far objects are magnified.”

“With most men, scarce a link of memory holds yesterday and today together.”


It didn’t matter. I felt like an archeologist who’d just found a silver spoon beside Paul Revere’s house in Boston’s North End or a historical salvager who’d discovered a sunken German submarine off the Channel Islands.

hese links of memory often reveal themselves when unexpected.

My nephew Matthew (my deceased brother’s son) sent me an e-mail in March. He shared his tireless work fixing up his father’s house in West Springfield, Massachusetts. He planned to live there.

magnificent rubber puck. I stared at it, then turned it over and over in my hands. In neat white lettering, someone had scrawled: Feb. 8, ‘38 Spfld.: 2 Phil.: 1 Toupin Tied Score With This Puck I wondered who’d gotten the puck? And, I wondered about the circumstances. After all, the puck hadn’t flown out of the rink;

He related, “Dad had a couple Springfield Indians mementos in his home, one a hockey puck that apparently a ‘Toupin’ tied a game once. My contractor’s a big hockey guy and told me about the Springfield Heritage Hockey Society. I was thinking I might donate it to them if no one else wanted it.”

Find the best Memory Care available.

I reread the e-mail. My heart raced. THE PUCK!

“The Safe Harbor Memory Care Program gives my loved one the care and support she needs living with Alzheimer’s. The small size of Safe Harbor, and the dedication of the staff made Birch Bay the perfect choice for us. The Life Enrichment & Music Therapy Programs really add to her quality of life.”

As far back as I could remember, my dad possessed this puck. When my mother died in 2016 (my father in 2002), I searched the house for it, to no avail, leaving me disappointed and frustrated. You bet I wanted it. I grew up in West Springfield, the home of the large well-known agricultural fair, the Eastern States Exposition or “the Big E.” In the center of the fairgrounds stood the old Coliseum where the American Hockey League Springfield Indians played. For years, my grandfather and then my uncle Paul sat in Section 9, Row M, Seat 1. My father attended games, as well. In fact, back in the 1950s and 1960s, he took me to many games. I’ve been a rabid hockey fan since. Matt sent me THE PUCK. With great anticipation, I opened the small, carefully wrapped package. There it was, that 45 • MAINE SENIORS

207-288-8014 Bar Harbor

My inner voice told me that this puck was alive, full of rich memories. It ignited my emotions. I listened to it, thinking back … I remembered strolling around the walkway that separated the rink from the stands. I’d stop and watch the Indians during the pre-game skate. One night, an errant puck blew over the glass above the boards and smacked a tall, elderly gentleman on the side of his head. He dropped like a lead weight. As adults rushed to help him, I grabbed the puck. I remembered one night right after a game, I shot down to the area where the opposing team walked to the dressing room—the losing goalie handed me his stick. I remembered a coach who dressed in loud, checkered sport jackets. The fans yelled out,“Cheap Suit,” again and again. Good stuff. I remembered an opposing skilled player who had a physical affliction, a twitch in his neck, causing him to frequently turn his head to the side. The unmerciful fans screamed out,“Twitch, Twitch.” Yes, a bit cruel.

Robert Brault wrote, “I enjoy occasionally, a day with my memories—these paintings hanging

on the walls of my mind.”

Buffalo Bisons, Cleveland Barons, Rochester Americans, and Hershey Bears, feeder teams to the National Hockey League. Although only a lad, I knew that I observed players who had dreams fulfilled and dreams dashed. I remembered the bracing winter nights, sub-zero temperatures gripping me to the bone after a game; in those days, the warmth from the car’s heater didn’t kick in until my dad turned into our driveway. Matthew had included a link to the Springfield Heritage Hockey site. I clicked on it and to my great surprise, the Indians theme song greeted me. When they hit the ice, “Shake, Rattle, and Roll” (Bill Haley and His Comets) reverberated throughout the building. The crowd roared. I listened to it for a half hour, singing out loud … a boy’s excitement, back in my mind’s time. I shouted out,“Drop the Puck! Game on!” But who was this Toupin who had tied the score? I checked the Official Site of the Hockey Hall of Fame which led me to the NHL Player Search. My sleuthing paid dividends. Jacques Toupin, from the Province of Quebec, played for the Indians for five seasons, from 1935 to 1940, twice leading the team in scoring while paired with two other Frenchmen. Sportscasters called them the “French Line.” In 1944-1945, he briefly played for the Chicago Blackhawks—he’d finally made it to the NHL. Robert Brault wrote, “I enjoy occasionally, a day with my memories—these paintings hanging on the walls of my mind.”

I remembered Bruins great defenseman Eddie Shore, the Indians owner, stoically sitting in Box 1, Seat 1, directly behind the bench. On occasion, he’d send his lackey down to“talk” to the coach. Imagine that happening today. Shore was a member at the Springfield Country Club where I caddied. Even in his seventies, he looked tough, someone not to fuss with.

The Puck sits on a shelf above my writing desk, in my den, beside a miniature Bruins hockey stick signed by the immortal defenseman Bobby Orr. When I look up at that black disc, I think of all those cherished childhood memories, one story leading to another, interconnected, part of my life’s story… all because of Jaques Toupin and an eighty-year old puck.

I remembered some of the other teams, the Providence Reds (long-time arch rival and current farm club for the Bruins),

Shake, Rattle and Roll!


HOLIDAY 2018 • 4 6

Featured Recipes PEPPERMINT CHOCOLATE POTS DE CRÈME WITH CHOCOLATE WHIPPED CREAM INGREDIENTS:  2 cups heavy cream  2 cups whole milk  1 bag semisweet chocolate morsels  1 teaspoon peppermint extract  8 egg yolks  1 cup sugar  Chocolate whipped cream (recipe follows)  Crushed peppermint candy to garnish DIRECTIONS:

Peppermint Chocolate Pots de Crème with Chocolate Whipped Cream

New Christmas

Classics C

hocolate and peppermint are almost synonymous with Christmas; I can't imagine the holiday without one or the other. Both flavors bring me back to my childhood—to candy canes on the tree and chocolate candies in my stocking—but now that I'm grown, I wanted to find a more adult way to enjoy the taste of the holidays. That's where pots de crème come in. They are decadent and rich, and certainly not what we'd consider an everyday kind of dessert. You'll feel satisfied and spoiled by the time you finish the last bite.

Of course, it also wouldn't be Christmas without cookies, and my Mapledoodles are a Maine twist on a chewy classic that will be welcome at any holiday gathering. Roll them in coarse sugar or edible glitter for a snowy effect that will call to mind a white Christmas, no matter what it looks like outdoors. MSM


1. Preheat oven to 300°F. In a saucepan, combine cream, milk, chocolate morsels and peppermint extract over medium heat. Stir until chocolate has melted and bring to a simmer. Remove from heat. 2. In a mixing bowl, or the bowl of a stand mixer, combine egg yolks and sugar. Beat until smooth and light yellow.


3. While mixing, slowly add the chocolate mixture to the egg mixture, a little at a time (so as not to cook the eggs too quickly and scramble them) until the mixture is consistent. 4. Pour into ramekins, heat-safe glass jars or custard cups and place in a baking pan. Add hot water to the pan, until it reaches halfway up the ramekins. Place baking pan in the oven and cook for 30 minutes or until set. It should still have a bit of wiggle in the center. Chill at least 2 hours, but no more than 3 days. Serve topped with chocolate whipped cream and crushed peppermint candy. CHOCOLATE WHIPPED CREAM:  1 cup heavy cream  2 tablespoons confectioner's sugar  2 tablespoons chocolate syrup Combine all ingredients and whip with a stand mixer or electric hand mixer until it reaches stiff peaks.





1. Preheat oven to 350°F. 2. In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugars. 3. Add the egg, syrup, and maple extract (if using). Mix until well blended. 4. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, salt and baking soda. Add into butter mixture, stirring until well blended. 5. Place dough in refrigerator and chill for one hour, or overnight. 6. Shape into 1 inch balls and roll in sugar. Place on cookie sheets about 2 inches apart; they will flatten as they cook. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes and cool on a rack prior to serving.

 2 sticks butter, softened  ½ cup packed brown sugar  ½ cup maple sugar  1 egg  1 cup Maine maple syrup  ½ teaspoon maple extract  2 teaspoons baking soda  ½ teaspoon salt  4 cups all-purpose flour  Granulated or coarse sugar for rolling

HOLIDAY 2018 • 4 8



“Yes,” I replied instantly. When she opened the door to her apartment, I saw that what had been a dirty beige was now pink. Walls, ceilings, and radiator covers all pink: garish, glowing, bubblegum pink.


Two Presents

A Retirement Community in Coastal Blue Hill, Maine

Miss Jones smiled. It was the first time I had ever seen her smile.“I got the paint on sale,” she said proudly. “It’s wonderful! You did this all yourself?”

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“Yes, I did it for you. To thank you.” “This is the best present,” I told her, and it was. I wish I could tell you that painting her apartment also changed her life. That she got off welfare, that her kids never got in trouble, that no man ever beat her again, and that she lived happily ever after, but I can’t. I never saw her again because she moved a few months later, but she gave me a gift I have never forgotten. MSM

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BY BARBARA KENT LAWRENCE In 1965, I was a newly minted college graduate working for the Department of Social Services in the South Bronx.


had about eighty families on my caseload, including Miss Jones. Miss Jones lived in a small and worn-down apartment with her three children and I thought she was very old. Probably 45 or so, maybe even fifty. Her face looked like pudding, worn and sagging. She moved slowly and with difficulty. I never read case files before I met my clients because I wanted to see them with fresh eyes, and I was astounded to discover that she was my age and saddened to learn she had lived with men who beat her. She suffered, not surprisingly, from depression.

At Christmas, I was going home to Washington, DC to spend a week with my family. I knew we would have a huge tree with piles 49 • MAINE SENIORS

of presents shining below it, sumptuous meals, and as they say,“all the comforts of home”. I looked forward to it, but guilt nagged at me, and I worried about leaving my clients for a week. I decided to write each of them a Christmas card, and mailed the cards shortly before I left New York. Christmas at home was as joyful and satisfying as I had anticipated, and when I flew back to New York I was a few pounds heavier and laden with presents. Moments after I settled behind my desk at the Mott Haven Welfare Center, the phone rang.“This is Miz Jones. I got your card.” She was crying, her words slurred by tears and convulsive sobs.“I never got a card before. I never got a present. You sent me a card. Thank you.” I started crying myself as I began to sense the depth of her loneliness. That she had never even received a card let alone a present, ever in her life, hinted at a level of deprivation I had not imagined.

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“I painted my apartment for you. Will you come see it?” HOLIDAY 2018 • 5 0




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“Blog,Text, Post, Instant Message, Instagram, Upload, Download, Chat, Scan, Facebook, Email,YouTube, and Tweet … Your Faith…”


hese words, appearing in a recent email message caused me to stop and take a step back. I knew I was guilty of partaking in this social media frenzy. But my Lord, now Religion is in the race, too? I felt like I was on a runaway train, and I wanted to get off.

So, I sent a post to my Facebook friends declaring my intent to ‘retire’ from Facebook. This decision was not fleeting. I had been struggling with it for some time. It was not easy either. In fact, it felt a bit like breaking up with someone, or moving away. There was a sense of loss. Making the break (with Facebook) caused me to further analyze social media in general. It resulted in conversations with coworkers, my husband and my children; conversations that lingered in my mind and took hold. As I watch my children navigate their way through the ‘teenage’ years, spending hours upon hours on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat…to name a few, I wonder how social media affects their development. They are trying to define who they are and are not.


WARNING What role does Facebook play in this journey of self-actualization? How will we teach our children the importance of just being quiet for a moment when their every moment must be filled with a 6-second video or a Snapchat post. How do they learn to listen to the silence, listen to their inner voice—we all have one. Do my children know how to have purposeful, thoughtful conversation? The best thing I can do as a parent is to try to live by example. I’ve made a mistake. I got caught up in the Facebook frenzy. I am unplugging. And I’d like to offer this challenge to all of my family, friends and peers. The holiday season is upon us. Let’s change up the playing field…put down the iPad, iPod, cell phone, laptop. Stop with the tweets, blogs, and Snaps. Step back into this tangible, physical world with the people who fill your life, sincerely, with love and peace. Contrary to popular opinion, idle moments are good for the heart. Okay kids, let’s go visit Grandpa! MSM

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HOLIDAY 2018 • 5 2


A Message for Christmas BY WANDA P. CURTIS

All hearts come home for Christmas, so the

saying goes. My husband and I experienced the truth of that sentiment in an unexpected, wonderful way one Christmas.


fter sixty Maine winters—thirty on the south end of windswept Lake Wassookeag—at last we had our dream garage. Opening our car doors on that midDecember afternoon, we soon became aware of a sound that did not make sense in that setting—a tink-tink-tinkling sound? What on Earth…? The sounds we heard began to seem a lot like music. As a string of music-box notes continued, our ears told us it had to be emanating from the storage loft high above. With minds reeling, we headed for the staircase as faint, yet now unmistakable Christmas carols—“Jingle Bells”—played above our heads. There was no record player or radio up there. What the...? Chills tickled our spines as, one after another, we mounted the twentythree steps, attempting beyond reason to figure just how this could be happening. Re-living the enchantment of childhood imaginings we postulated: Fairies? Elves? Santa? Spirits? Angels?

With each step we climbed, the lilting music became louder— now it was “Silent Night, Holy Night.” Atop the stairs, the mystery remained. We needed to isolate the precise source 53 • MAINE SENIORS

Seasons Musings of the magical music. It was not a simple quest. The previous summer had found us moving packed boxes and crates to the new garage loft for storage. Several boxes and crates had been piled upon others. Stacking and restacking, we worked our way closer and closer to the continuous medley of carols—“Rudolphthe Red-Nosed Reindeer” now—until at last we pinpointed a large cardboard box. As we tore off the packing tape, music merrily continued—“It Came Upon the Midnight Clear.” Opening the chock-full box, a layer of Christmas decorations popped into view. We soon recognized items that had belonged to my husband’s mom who had passed away seven years before. Whatever was making the mysterious music lay at the very bottom of this box. Little hairs on the back of our necks began to stand up straight! Carefully, methodically removing the contents of the box we discovered everything from fragile ornaments and silvery tinsel to gaily-printed holiday linens and candle holders, on down to treasured cards Mom had saved over the years. We were absolutely stunned and amazed to see the very last item in the

"What is Christmas? It is tenderness for the past, courage for the present, hope for the future. It is a fervent wish that every cup may overflow with blessings rich and eternal, and that every path may lead to peace." —Agnes M. Pahro

Glad tidings from all of us at Maine Seniors Magazine!


Mom is never far from our thoughts, but on that Christmas all of her love came home—rushing back into our hearts with crystal clarity.

bottom of the box—Mom’s well-loved Christmas carousel. There beneath its ornate canopy, circled the tiny figurines—Santa Claus riding a reindeer with a trailing menagerie of merry-goround horses—all rhythmically pumping up and down to “Oh Come, All Ye Faithful.” It was as if kind-hearted, animal-loving Mom stood right there beside us and had switched on the music for our delight. Mom’s melodious Christmas merry-go-round, fully operational by some unknown force, after all these years; it was just unbelievable, we were speechless and awed! We know there must have been some scientific explanation for this to have happened, but for us, there were just too many coincidences. The carousel had been packed away for years; that it had inexplicably begun playing at this particular time—the holiday season—was just eerie. The batteries still worked and had not corroded or run down; that we had come home at the opportune time to hear it defied all logic. At that moment, it truly felt like Mom was lovingly wishing us,“Merry Christmas.” The tangle of emotions evoked by such an uncanny experience is simply indescribable. Though true believers of hard science, we clearly sensed a spiritual world connection. In retrospect, we reasoned that, the cold temperature in the unheated space must have set off the electrical battery connections within the mechanized carousel; the box had been packed in a spare, heated bedroom prior to that year. However, there had already been several equally cold days that December. Somehow the carousel had been playing at the exact moment we drove in—the right place at the right time—and it had been so close to Christmas. The whole thing was simply all too coincidental not to have some other-worldly explanation. We felt we had won a sort of Twilight-Zonish lottery. Wow! Thanks, Mom!


Finally, we decided whatever the explanation, we had surely been given a gift for all time. Mom is never far from our thoughts, but on that Christmas all of her love came home—rushing back into our hearts with crystal clarity. We thought of past Christmases—and other times of the year—when she had done so many wonderful things for us and for others: the heart-felt ways she’d made family events extra special by always being the thoughtful, loving mom she was. As you may imagine, the magic carousel now holds a cherished place in our world. It has become a unique remembrance of a much-loved woman’s existence—truly iconic of that unforgettable Christmas when Mom’s tender heart transcended all boundaries to remind us that a mother’s love is for all time. What better Christmas gift could there possibly be? MSM

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