John Bunker, of Palermo, is an apple enthusiast, an antique apple enthusiast, and if you are a regular at the Common Ground Fair, you undoubtedly have seen or spoken with him at his display of rare and forgotten apple varieties. In the fall of 2003 John spoke at an event at Kelmscott Farm, asking if anyone in Lincolnville knew of a Fletcher Sweet tree, one of the many lost varieties John was tracking down. Rosey Gerry heard the talk that day, and suggested I pose the question in my Camden Herald column. I did and promptly heard from 80 year-old Clarence Thurlow who lived alone on his Moody Mountain Road farm.

 Clarence said he knew of one, though he wasn’t sure if it was still alive. Within a day or two of that call an apple-hunting team had gathered – John Bunker, Rosey, Karin Womer, myself and of course, Clarence. We met at a heavily wooded spot on Moody Mountain Road where he said we’d find it. Within a few minutes he’d located it, a very tall, rangy thing that bore no resemblance to any apple tree I’d ever seen, as it had grown tall and lanky to reach the sun. John showed us the telltale sign of a grafted tree, down at the base. It could be as old as 140 years he suggested. Though the tree looked dead, he spotted a few leaves hanging on way at the top; there was still some life in it. He’d come back in the spring for the scions, or live twigs, he would graft to reproduce the Fletcher Sweet.

 Later that winter I made a date with Clarence to come and interview him for the book I was writing, Staying Put. We talked that day for a couple of hours, and I went home to write up my notes.  I’d gotten in the habit of returning to the folks I’d interviewed and reading back to them what I’d written about their lives.  But Clarence died the day before I was to return, died working in his woodpile on a bitter cold February day. Those who knew him thought that’s the way he would have wanted to go.

 In early spring John Bunker came back to Moody Mountain and climbed the Fletcher Sweet to clip off the twigs that were still alive, then grafting them onto rootstock to grow new trees. Within a couple of years Fedco, the Maine seed and tree co-op was offering Fletcher Sweets for sale, complete with a catalog listing that described its discovery.  Rosey and Karin were given a tree, as were Wally and I, as well as a tree for the town, which we planted at Breezemere.  The Historical Society was able to offer them for sale for a few years, and many people in town bought one. Our tree is bearing now; it’s indeed a sweet apple, mostly green when ripe. It doesn’t seem to be a good keeping apple, but then we haven’t had enough to find out yet.

 These days there only a few commercial apple varieties – Macs, Cortlands, Delicious are the old standards, with fancy new Honey Crisps and Granny Smiths and so forth. Pickings weren’t always so slim. Tranquility Grange used to hold a fall agricultural fair through the 1930s where farmers entered examples of their prize produce, including apples. From an old newspaper article on the winners during one such fair at the Grange, 59 varieties of apples were listed, all growing in Lincolnville, along with the farmers who grew them. In addition to the Fletcher Sweet, there were Blue Pearmains, Canada Baldwins, Gravenstein, Golden Russet, Winesap, Seek-no-further, Nodheads, Wolf River, Black Ben Davis, Peachblossom. To see the whole list and more about Lincolnville’s apple-growing years, see Staying Put in Lincolnville Maine, 1900-1950 (Available at Western Auto, Schoolhouse Museum  or Sleepy Hollow Rag Rugs )

 To round out this story of apples, the fall harvest, we dug our carrots the other day, the best we’ve ever grown. Possibly it’s because we finally learned about thinning, the practice of going through the row of newly-emerged seedlings and pulling out most of them. This is painstakingly slow and tedious, down on hands and knees, leaving a tiny carrot seedling only every inch or so, room for it to grow and fill the space between it and its neighbor as it does. But there’s also an element of god-like decision making: who stays and who goes, who lives and who dies, a growing pile along the row of wilting baby carrots-to-be. I hate the decision, but I’ve finally learned to force myself to do it; Wally won’t even consider trying. “You do it,” he says bluntly. As we pulled up carrot after carrot, most of them perfectly shaped, no worm holes, just beautiful carrots, a couple of particularly enormous ones reminded us both of Carl Carlson’s vegetables. “These are Carl-worthy carrots,” I announced.

 Some readers may remember Carl Carlson; he lived on Atlantic Highway in a small house near the present Black Horse Inn, and died in 1975 at the age of 70.  He was one of a kind, tall and strong even as an older man; he’d lived his whole life in Lincolnville, born at Ducktrap, fished, did some caretaking, never married, didn’t drive, at least not when we knew him.

 Carl was friends with Nat and Vonnie Stone, the couple we bought our house from in 1970. He’d often stop by and visit them; after we moved in, he’d visit us. We always said that Carl came with the house. Carl had hand dug the septic system here for Nat and Vonnie. When we were given a big upright piano by Beach neighbors (who, by the way, had 9 pianos in their house) we enlisted some friends to help us move it here. Carl took one end by himself as four guys in their 30s and 40s struggled with the other end. They got it as far as the kitchen and decided to stop for a beer, then realized Carl was still holding up his end. He was hard of hearing and didn’t realize they were taking a break.

 Carl used to go coon hunting with his friend, Roy Oxton, who lived further up Beach Road from us. They went out in the middle of the night with their dogs, and Carl would be heading home about dawn; sometimes he took the road, sometimes he’d go cross country, through the woods across from our house to his place. He kept a garden at Roy’s, and on those coon hunting nights he’d often return with a burlap sack full of vegetables over his shoulder. We’ve never forgotten his bellow, “HALLOOO Neighbah!” as he approached our house, lifting us straight out of bed. When we went out in morning we’d find the gift he’d left us on the doorstep: potatoes, a cabbage, onions, and carrots, the biggest vegetables we’d ever seen. Until this year that is, when we finally grew some Carl-worthy carrots.

 Events at the Community Building this week include fitness and yoga class on Wednesday mornings, 9 - 10:45 a.m.; all levels of fitness are welcome. This is a two part class, each 45 minutes. Do one or both. Becky Dunton, certified trainer, is the instructor. We work hard, but everybody moves at their own pace.

 Thursday at noon the Soup Café is held from noon to 1 p.m. Delicious homemade soup, bread, cookies and fruit put on by volunteers from United Christian Church. Come for the good meal and for the company. The meal is free, though donations are appreciated.

This Wednesday, the third one of the month, Rosey Gerry brings another of his author/musical evenings to the Library. This month Paul McFarland of Youngtown Road will present his poetry followed by Nick Appolonio, well-known local musician. I don’t know how he does it, but Rosey finds a writer to pair with a musician/s, takes reservations, as the Library has limited seating, and puts on a wonderful show every month, September through May. The show starts promptly at 7 p.m., the writer is first, there’s a cookie & coffee break, and then the musical part of the evening begins. Tickets are $10, and proceeds go to the Library. Contact Rosey by email or at 975-5432.

 The Lincolnville Center Indoor Flea Market will be held at the Community Building this Saturday, Oct. 18, 8 a.m. to noon. Vendors come with a wide variety of merchandise including maple syrup products, Halloween/Fall/Thanksgiving items; several antique dealers (one featuring assorted hand-carved walking sticks) will be there as well as Ruth Felton’s famous pickles, jams, relishes. One table is still available; contact Mary Schulein at 785-3521.

 Julie Turkevich writes: “Come to the Lincolnville Community Library on Saturday, October 18, 10 a.m. – noon, to make your life-sized skeleton for Halloween! Using paper plates and cardboard, we'll cut out the bones and attach them at the joints. Then add color and embellishments to make a scary or friendly set of bones. Hang your skeleton on the door or in a tree in your yard. Boo!” All children are welcome; there’s no charge, and materials will be provided.

 Susan Stonestreet, longtime pastor of United Christian Church, is sharing the pulpit this winter with guest ministers and speakers. Pastor Susan preaches two Sundays a month, and the other two Sundays either a guest preacher or a member of the congregation who has been studying as a Preaching Partner will be in the pulpit. Next Sunday, Oct. 19, Pastor Mair Honan will be delivering the sermon. Mair, formerly a Lincolnville resident, was ordained at United Christian Church, and went on to found Grace Street Ministry. Mair’s depictions of life on the streets of Portland for those of her “congregation” are always moving, and all are invited to come Sunday and hear her; the service starts at 9:30 a.m. Mair always asks that those who wish bring Dunkin Donuts gift cards for her to give to the homeless people she works with on the street. With a DD card a person can get inside out of the cold for a while, have a cup of coffee, and use the bathroom. Kate Braestrup, chaplain of the Maine State Warden Service, will be the guest preacher on Sunday Oct. 26.

 The Lincolnville Sewer District Board of Trustees meets Thursday, October 23, 3 p.m. at the Town Office. On the agenda is the election of trustees and the resignation of Secretary/Treasurer Tom Crowley, and appointment of a new Secretary/Treasurer.

An NRA Basic Handgun Firearm course is being held Oct. 24-25 at Outdoor Sportsman in Northport. The class is taught by Doug Hammond of Lincolnville Center; Doug’s an NRA instructor who’s been teaching this class for a number of years. Contact Doug by email for more information. To register call Outdoor Sportsman in Northport Route 1 store at 338-4141.

 The annual craft show at the Lincolnville Improvement Association will be Saturday, Oct. 25, 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. Tables are free for Lincolnville residents. The Lermond Family Charities craft show will be held Nov. 22, 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. at the Community Building. Tables are $10. Contact Nancy Heald to register for either or both shows, email or call: 763-4280 or 505-0536.

 Our young hens are starting to lay; the eggs are small; when you crack them open the perfect little yolk is the size of one of those large marbles we used to have as kids (neither Wally nor I can remember what they were called) . But within a month or so they’ll be producing bigger ones. When we have eggs for sale I’ll put up the “Eggs” sign out front. Let me know of other people with eggs for sale. Someone should figure out how many backyard flocks would be needed per neighborhood to keep everyone supplied with fresh eggs. Hens are fun to keep, and if you sell the surplus, they can pay for themselves, plus your eggs are free.

 A petition move called “We the People Maine ” proposes an amendment to the U.S. Constitution stating that corporations are not people and money is not speech. This addresses the 2010 Supreme Court decision, known as “Citizens United” that says corporations have the same rights as people and that the money they give to election campaigns is a legal expression of free speech. If you watch television you’re well aware of the amount of money pouring into our state from outside interests to influence our elections. If this issue is important to you, people are needed to sit at the polls on Election Day, Nov. 4, getting signatures. Contact me if you can do this for an hour or two.

 Here’s more of Sandy Delano’s memories of his grandparents and their farm at 504 Youngtown Road:

 The lawn at the farm was mowed occasionally using an ancient hand driven lawn mower, which sat outside in the weather when not in use. A calf or heifer hitched out on the lawn usually did a better job, but at the risk of dirtying ones shoes or bare feet.

 My Uncle Jim Carver had a canvas hammock, which was strung between the apple tree and the lilacs on the front lawn. The hammock provided much relaxation for the older folks and an excellent plaything for us children. It eventually wore out with age and exposure to the elements. The white lilacs were trimmed back in the spring of 2003 because of old age and winterkill. My cousin Norm Carve,r at my request, took down the apple tree at the same time, as it was dead in all but a few places. The apple tree was over 100 years old, and the lilac’s probably of equal age as they were at least ten inches in diameter, twisted and broken. My grandmother made apple pies with the drops from this tree. I would gather up a pail full of the most promising apples, and she would trim and pare them to eliminate worms, bruises and the like. I have not found an apple pie equal to hers in many years. I believe the reasons her apple pie was so good was that she used real lard, fresh apples, and a very hot cast iron stove oven to bake them in.

          At the foot of the driveway at the farm stood a very large cat spruce tree. It was climbed by every able-bodied child who ever was allowed access to it. From its heights one could see all across town. It was a landmark for folks needing directions, and during its last year of life, a bald eagle landed at its very top. I have a photograph of the tree and bird in my collection. The tree was home to tree houses, ladders and lots of nails.

My grandfather purchased nails in bulk by the pound and kept them in the barn, usually in the same paper bag they came in. On one occasion, I drove an entire bag of his nails into the tree with a hammer. He was not very happy with me. It was a good thing I was one of his favorites. I suspect that he treated me as a favorite grandchild, but I suspect all of us got the same treatment. On the other hand, in his later years when his health was failing, he gave me his Harrington and Richardson 12 gauge shotgu,n and my cousin Phil Tibbetts received his Winchester hunting rifle, both of which were his prized possessions.

 Each November, grandfather and his pals would head for Lead Mountain deer hunting. They had a homemade wooden camper that they towed down the Airline, now Rt. 9, and parked it on the side of the road. As I recall, it had a lone window and door. Grandpa always got a deer. About 1952, at age 60, he was brought home from hunting quite ill, having suffered a heart attack. This put an end to his hunting and farming. The remainder of his life was spent in and out of Veterans Hospitals in Boston and Togus.

          Grandfather had gall bladder problems, brain surgery, and suffered several more heart attacks. A stroke finally killed him in his bedroom at the farm, November 21, 1960. He is buried at Maplewood Cemetery in Lincolnville, which was his wish. He chose not to be buried in the nearby Youngtown Cemetery, as he feared it was too close to the brook and subject to flooding. The irony is that his grave, when opened at Ducktrap, was flooded with water. He lies buried beside his wife, Jennie Carpenter Hardy, his son, Norman “Pete” Carver, or Sonny as grandpa called him, and Uncle Pete’s wife Eileen Bishop Carver. Grammy Carver died of hardening of the arteries as it was then called, nowadays more commonly called Alzheimer's. Aunt Trigger or Eileen, died of cancer at the age of 52 years. Uncle Pete’s youngest boy, Jack Edward Carver, is also buried in the same lot. Jack died in 1987 at the age of 40 years of a supposed self-inflicted gunshot. He had been treated for depression for quite some time previous.

Grandpa Carver’s father, grandparents and great grandparents are buried here too. James Winfield Carver, Deborah Norton Carver (and supposedly) Isaac Carver. Benjamin and Lucinda Gilkey Carver are buried here having been disinterred from the family plot at Ducktrap and re-buried near to Grandpa Carver. My father, Sanford, F. Delano, is buried a plot away from Grandpa and Grammy Carver.