From Ghoulies and Ghosties and Long Leggity Beasties, and Other Things that go Bump in the Night, Good Lord Deliver Us.

This old Scottish prayer hangs as a cross-stitch at the upstairs landing of our old farmhouse. My mom made it over 50 years and hung it there with intention. There was something about that landing, which she crossed multiple times nightly when moving from her bedroom to the nursery to attend the babies. Hanging the prayer seemed to help.

Old homes tend to come with ghosts. 

There is an old house on Slab City that reportedly has a cold spot in the closet off a front room. Some people, perhaps those who are particularly sensitive, reportedly feel an overwhelming sense of sadness, and one person claims to have seen a little boy playing in this closet. The accompanying tale speaks of the summer people who lived there driving with their little boy toward Coleman Pond and returning without the child. This story always scared me the most when I was young, as it suggested something terrible must have happened.

And speaking of cold spots, Carl Carlson, a long ago Lincolnville resident, taught his niece about the cold spots which dot the forest that is now part of the Camden Hills State Park. Where no birds sing.

My old farmhouse stands in the shadow of this forest, and Sleepy Hollow does have its own strange climate. And the section of Beach Road that runs along the side of Frohock Mountain can feel a little… odd.

A woman who has been coming to her family’s ancestral home all her life told me how she would bring her Walkman when she visited her grandmother, to drown out the squeaking of her grandmother’s rocking chair, as she rocked outside of the bedroom. Her grandmother eventually passed, but the squeaking of the rocking chair continued, even after the chair had been removed from outside the bedroom.

This same woman told of how her brother was awoken in the next bedroom to see a large hooded, bearded man floating at the edge of his bed. He surmised it was their great great grandfather, the original owner of the home. She also awoke one night to see a black figure in the doorway emitting loud buzzing before vanishing.

Of course the spooky tales I am most familiar with are those associated with my home. My parents purchased this place, the old Frohock house, in 1970, from Nat and Vonnie. Tragically, they had each lost a son in auto accidents. But according to them, the boys stuck around. Pulling the covers off Nat when he slept after working the night shift as Camden Dispatch. Rocking chairs, playing the piano, knocking on walls, turning door knobs. The car that could be heard pulling into the driveway.

I grew up with these stories, and as an imaginative child, I experienced many things I attributed to the supernatural. Never anything negative, just unsettling and spooky. Footsteps, flickers out of the corner of my eye, doorknobs turning, the feeling of being watched.

Much of the activity seemed to be centered in the last room of the “porch ell” where the house proper meets the barn. The room where, before I was born, my cousins refused to sleep. The room that, in 2018, we converted into my kitchen, the upper barn into living room and office. Where I sit, writing this column.

Visiting our contractor during the renovation, he mentioned tools that kept going missing, strange sounds. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear this place is haunted.” Hmm.

Spooks. Ghosties. Ghoulies. These tales have been part of us forever. Facing long cold nights, our ancestors had plenty of time to tell stories, to try to explain the unexplainable. To make sense of death and loss. To understand what goes bump in the night.

But I grew up, and realized that most of my experiences were probably just my imagination, and that there were rational explanations for it all.

So it was on a sunny summer morning, home from college, lying half awake in the bedroom in the porch ell, when I heard a car drive in. The door slam. Leaning to look out the window, I saw an empty driveway, my parents were off on their own errands. Just my imagination.

My girlfriend at the time, dozing next to me and who is spooky enough to write an entire article about, asked “who’s here?’ It wasn’t my imagination, but there was also no car. Just the boys returning to the place where they had once lived? Just a memory that old places sometimes hold on to? Darned if I know. But maybe there are things we will just never fully understand. And that seems OK.

Election Day Activities:

Tuesday is Election Day, and I look forward to seeing many of you at the LCS gymnasium where I will do my part to cancel out the vote of a certain garage guy. Although, on these referendum questions, we tend to align more often than not.

The Lincolnville Women’s Club will be raffling off a Thanksgiving Basket full of food and gift certificates. Tickets are 2 for $5 or 5 for $10, with a drawing at 8p.m. Tuesday.

And the UCC Church Ladies will have a bake sale table, but get there early if you want the good stuff.

Dark Sky Study Group

On Wednesday, November 8, Jacob Gerritsen will lead a presentation at 6:30 p.m. at the Lincolnville Library. The Dark Sky initiative is committed to combating light pollution and preserving a clear view of the cosmos.

Celebrate Our Oldest Resident

Peg Miller, as the oldest Lincolnville resident holds our town’s Boston Gold Post cane. Peg turns 99 on November 15; let’’s honor her with birthday cards! Address them to Margaret Miller (not Peg), Ross Manor, 758 Broadway, Bangor, ME 04401.

LCS PTO Wreath Sale

The Parent Teacher Organization at LCS is once again selling wreaths to support our elementary and middle school students. Orders need to be in by Monday, November 6, so if you have not filled out your order form, there might still be time, if you contact Amelia Grant, at amelia@thegranthouse.org. And look out for order forms for LCS apparel- rock your LCS swag for Christmas!

Condolences

I received word that Andy Andrews has passed. Love to his family and especially to his beloved Vivia. You may have known him from his hot dog grilling skills at the Strawberry Festival. I will remember his incredible kindness and that massive hand on my shoulder whenever he greeted me.

It is November, and even the most hardened of us have turned on the furnace or lit that first fire. The evenings may be dark, but my little dog Belladonna and I are happy for a bit more light on our morning walks. The walks are necessary to manage our crankiness. Find ways to manage your crankiness, or fake it in public. As we move toward midwinter, find the light and warmth in the dark and cold. Reach out at ceobrien246@gmail.com

CALENDAR

Tuesday, November 7

Library open 3-6 p.m. 208 Main Street

AA Meeting, 12 p.m., Community Building, 18 Searsmont Road

Election Day, LCS Gymnasium, 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.

Athletic Infrastructure Committee,  5p.m., Town Office

Wednesday, November 8

Library open 2-5 p.m. 

Cemetery Trustees, 5:30 p.m., Town Office

Thursday, November 9

Conservation Committee, 4 p.m., Town Office

Harbor Committee, 6 p.m., Town Office

Friday, November 10

Veteran’s Day (observed) Town Office Closed

AA Meeting 12 p.m., Community Building, 18 Searsmont Road

Library open 9-12, 208 Main Street

Saturday, November 11

Library open 9-12, 208 Main Street

Sunday, November 12

United Christian Church, 9:30 a.m. Worship, 18 Searsmont Road

Bayshore Baptist Church, 9:30 a.m. Sunday School, 11 a.m. worship, 2648 Atlantic Highway