It was a snowy New Years Eve in this old farmhouse at the top of Sleepy Hollow in 1974. The visiting neighbors had gone home, and the three-year-old had been tucked into bed, when my mom told my dad, “It’s time.” 

I was already a week overdue, and doubtless Ma was ready to evict me. My three-year-old brother was dropped at the home aforementioned neighbors, and my parents were off to Rockland’s Knox Hospital in their Saab 96. Pen Bay wouldn’t open until later the next year.

Talking to Ma about my birth earlier this week, it is striking how much things have changed in the delivery room since the dark ages of the mid 1970s.

For my birth, at least my father was allowed in the room during delivery; he had been banished from attending my brother’s arrival.

This time, Ma also advocated for “rooming in” — being allowed to keep me with her after birth. The pediatrician was all for it, but advised my parents that this was really a call for the maternity nurse. Said nurse, veteran of hundreds of births over 40 years, was having none of this, however, and my first few days were spent in the nursery.

Of the bedside manner of the (exclusively male) obstetricians, well, the less said the better. Ma and I did get some fame by me being the first baby of 1975 in Knox County, with pictures in the paper, gifts from local merchants, a cake on my first birthday (and follow-up picture in the paper!)

After five days in the hospital, where they had to make sure Ma was serious about this wild idea to breast-feed me, I came home to this old house, where I now live with my own wife and children. My big brother took a look a look at me and offered the helpful suggestion: “Let’s put him on the compost pile.”

My mom has been writing this column as long as I remember, first hand typed and taken in person to the offices of the Camden Herald on Tannery Lane in the early years, and more recently, electronically submitted to the Pen Bay Pilot. 

Hardly a week goes by when someone doesn’t tell me how much they love This Week in Lincolnville. So, of course, her suggestion that I take it over is pretty intimidating. I don’t have her talent, but I do share her love of this little town, where the vast majority of my 48 years have been spent.

I graduated Lincolnville Central and Camden Rockport High School (Camden Hills Regional now, of course). I left for college and spent a few years figuring out the world, but was back in the Midcoast by my mid-20s, and haven’t really felt the need to leave.

I found my career here, met my wife, and had three children, now attending the same schools I did. And as Ma has described in this column previously, made the decision five years ago to return to this old farmhouse at the top of Sleepy Hollow, after extensive renovation, of course.

Like my Ma, I love stories. And even a quiet little town on the coast of Maine is full of them.

Making my way around the community, at Drake’s, at a middle school basketball game, a summer visit to Ducktrap, I see so many faces I have known my whole life, and meet so many new people, people who have chosen to make this little place their home. Welcome, new Lincolnvillains.

I hope to continue Ma’s tradition of stories of Lincolnville’s past, present, and future- as well as any wildlife sightings you want to share with me. Feel free to email me with your town news, big or little: ceobrien246@gmail.com Just put Lincolnville News in the subject so I can pick it out from the mountains of spam (I really should do something about that).

A New Year...

And still no snow. The Snow Bowl even had to close over the weekend. There was some balmy weather this weekend, and a little mud season preview. Not a bad opportunity to explore some of our environs tourist free, though. And I am still holding out hope for a solid snowfall soon. Hopefully the snowblower still runs, it’s been neglected these last few years. The daylight is back on the increase, even with the worst of winter ahead of us. And Ma and my wife have already been pouring over seed catalogs, plotting the garden ahead.