Camden High School’s Class of 1955 celebrates its 60th reunion this year. Those of us who came to the Midcoast “from away” may not know that there used to be a Camden High School, a Rockport High School, even an Appleton High School. All those morphed into Camden-Rockport High School, on Knowlton Street in Camden, before becoming today’s Camden Hills Regional High School on Route 90. Here’s a story from high school days written by a member of CHS Class of 1955, Ruth Young Spandonis:

         In an early March day in the 1950s, four Camden girls — Irene, Diana, Judy and Ruth — were sitting around, just talking. Ruth was telling them things about her grandparents’ farm on Youngtown Road about five miles away in Lincolnville. She mentioned that half-way up Cameron Mountain, across from the farm, there was a little log cabin her Uncle Clyde had built when he was eighteen. It had sat unused for many years.

         After hearing about it, one of them suggested they go see it. So the first day off from school, the four of them walked all the way to Lincolnville. Ruth’s mother had called her mother-in-law, Mrs. Young, to let her know the girls might be headed up to the farm from Camden. It was very cold walking that long road along Lake Megunticook. There was still quite a lot of snow on the ground and the wind was blowing right down the lake. Most of the way they had to walk backwards so they wouldn’t freeze their faces. Finally they made it – five miles! – to the farm, where Mrs. Young greeted them with hot cocoa.

         They sat for a while, warming up, and told her they wanted to go up to the cabin. She said it probably was gone by now and tried to discourage them. Ruth’s Uncle Clyde, who had never married, also lived on the farm. He wasn’t able to talk them out of it either, so he fitted them with snowshoes and away they went. Ruth couldn’t remember exactly where it was, only the general area, but that was okay; they’d find it, and they did.

         But what a sight they found – the door was hanging by one hinge, window panes from the three small windows were broken, planks used as a floor were all uneven and rotted ; there were open spaces between the log walls, and the worst part – animals had been using the cabin for shelter and a bathroom. Frozen dung was piled everywhere. Not to be discouraged, the girls decided to clean up the place. They found part of an old broom and a dustpan, but because everything was frozen, that wasn’t any help. So after sizing up the situation, they came up with a list of tools and a plan to return the next week-end, armed with all they’d need.

         This time Ruth’s father drove them to the farm. The girls loaded up and hiked to the cabin. It was a bigger job than they’d imagined. Every week-end found the girls working on that cabin. They’d work awhile, go to the farm to get a nice meal, go back to the cabin and work some more. Then Uncle Clyde would drive them back to town.

         Now everyone thought this was a passing fancy, and that the girls would tire of the project, but not these girls. After awhile everyone realized this idea of theirs was not going to go away. When Ruth’s father, Albert, and his brother Clyde went up to the cabin and saw how much the girls had done to clean it up, they told them if they could clean up the stove really good, they’d put up a new stove-pipe so the stove could be used. The girls went to work on that big old stove, scrubbing and scraping to get it looking pretty. When they finished, they said, “we’re ready.”

         The next day the men and girls went to the cabin, and the stove-pipe was installed. The girls got instructions on wood stove safety, fires and the care of them. A fire was started, and soon there was a horrible smell coming from the stove. They’d forgotten to clean the oven, and it seems an old squirrel nest was being baked. (Some of that musty smell never did leave the cabin). After a good laugh and a fast cleaning of the oven, all went well. Heat!

         The cabin’s furnishings were sparse: a built-in bunk bed, an old wooden chaise lounge, a small table, two straight chairs, a make-shift wood-box and the stove. Ruth’s mother and grandmother sewed old sheets together, and the girls took them to the barn and stuffed them full of hay for mattresses, which they toted up to the cabin. For the chaise lounge they cut pine boughs for padding. The girls rounded up two wooden orange crates for shelves, to store food and other things. Broken window panes were replaced, the wood-box repaired, Uncle Clyde fixed the hinge on the door, rags stuffed the spaces between the log walls, and supplies – pots, pans, dishes, towels, food, even a wind-up record player– were carried up the mountain. Now the four girls could stay overnight.

         Oh, and a very important job was a lean-to, built between two trees for a toilet, a short walk from the cabin. (More about the toilet later.) A small spring about three feet across was located out behind the cabin. The girls had been told not to drink from it and to take jugs of water up from the farm for drinking and cooking. If they ran out though, “a dipper or two wouldn’t hurt,” but they weren’t to tell Ruth’s grandmother.

         They had to cut and saw wood for cooking and heat. To make it more fun the girls took turns, two cutting wood to the beat of the 78 records playing on the victrola, while the other two kept the music going on the wind-up record player. It had only one volume – LOUD, and that could be heard all through the woods and down to the farm. Nobody seems to remember what songs were played, but probably tunes from the 30s and 40s since the records were that old.

         After the stoves got working, no one knew how to regulate the heat. It might be zero outside, and 100 degrees inside. The cabin door had to be opened to cool down the inside, and then closed back up. In the mornings they would wake up to freezing cold, and the girls would bribe each other to get up and get the stove going to warm the cabin.

         In the evenings they would sit on the bunk and the two chairs drinking tea and playing cards by lamplight. The table was uneven due to the floor, so they put a brick under one leg. One night as they were sitting there, one of the girls decided to get up on the top bunk by putting one foot on the table. The table leg slid off the brick and flipped the table. A mug of tea flew up in the air and landed in the top bunk, splashing the girl and the bed she had to sleep in. Everyone, except the victim, had a good laugh. Another night, while the girls were playing cards, they decided to see who could come up with the most swear words. Then, as they were laughing and spouting off these words, there came a knock on the door and a voice, “anybody home?” It was Uncle Clyde checking on them. They were so embarrassed, but he never let on he’d heard anything. Clyde was just so happy to see his old cabin being used.

         Now back to the lean-to toilet. One night there was a bad storm. After it was over, the same girl who had the spilled tea experience, went out to the lean-to. It was dark so the others went along to shine the way with flashlights. A few seconds later they heard a big noise and a yell. The lean-to had collapsed when she sat down. Needless to say, everyone but the victim got a huge laugh.

         They even ended up with a “pet”. That came about after a quiet evening of cards, when they heard a scratching noise coming from the door area. After listening to it for a bit, they decided to look outside. So two of the girls, armed with an ax and a big block of wood, crept outside while the other two held flashlights. They found nothing and came back inside. Then the scratching started again. One of them took a flashlight and started following the noise. It turned out to be a tiny field mouse trying to get into their loaf of bread. So they put out food for him. He would come and go after that, getting a free meal.

         During the last year of high school there was too much going on, and the girls went in different directions, leaving the cabin behind. But the memories of their good times in Uncle Clyde’s cabin would last their lifetimes. And sixty years later, all that remains is the old iron stove.

         The girls were Irene Blackington Landers, Diana Payson Cole, Judy Payson Pratt, and Ruth Young Spandonis, all of the Class of 1955, Camden High School. Diana Cole passed away some years ago; Irene, Judy, and Ruth still enjoy remembering “Uncle Clyde’s cabin”.

         I’ve loved this story ever since Ruth told it to me. And I like it even more now that she’s written it down. This is what adolescents long for, isn’t it? For a job to do, preferably one their parents (or grandparents) try to talk them out of, don’t really approve of. Best if it’s hard, too, just a bit beyond their capabilities. Walking five miles through a freezing wind, shoveling out critter poop, sleeping on make-shift hay mattresses, scared to death and creeping around in the dark woods with flashlights. At the time of the story, 1954-55, it seems more likely that boys would get such a job to do, but Ruth reminds us that girls had just as much grit, and the same longing.

         Most of us are probably aware of our high school or college reunions, through friends back home, or more likely, by the thinly-disguised fund raising that is often the real reason for such reunions.  Speaking as one whose high school is half way across the country, I’ve only made it back for one, either 40th or 45th, I can’t remember which. So it’s with real pleasure and a little envy that I witness the genuine friendships I see enduring here among the graduates of long-ago high school classes.

You may run into a group of them out for lunch somewhere, as some of the classes get together monthly that way. These are folks who’ve watched one another move through their working lives, retiring, gradually growing older, becoming grand-, and then great-grandparents. Not for them the sudden shock of a childhood friend’s gray hair or paunch at an infrequent reunion. How old he’s gotten, we think, then go home and take a good look in our own mirror.

This Friday, August 14, the 110th Camden High School Alumni Banquet will be held at Point Lookout. Around two hundred former students typically gather to eat and drink and talk and laugh. There’s an auction, games, awards, a business meeting, and scholarships given (this year they go to Eliza Boetsch from Rockport, Nicki Fowlie from Appleton, and Ella Scott from Hope). CHS alumni who have passed away in the last year will be remembered. Winners of last year's scholarships (awarded to

Camden Hills High School graduates) are invited to attend, and to give a brief summary of their first year college experience. The first AFS student, Karl Kalender from Germany, will be here to celebrate the 50th class reunion with his high school friends. Karl lived with the Paul and Muriel McFarland family during his stay in 1965.

 All in all, if I were a CHS alumni I wouldn’t want to miss it!

Joint Band Concert

Isabel Morse Maresh of Belmont, but with strong Lincolnville roots, recently sent this to the LHS board of directors, telling us how she and  her cousin, Jackie Watts, got into the history “business”:

    “I started research, both historical and gnealogical, in the Fall of 1978.  About 1982, my first cousin, Jackie Young Watts and I teamed up…. During the mid 1980's we travelled the length and breadth of Waldo County, chasing down leads about where to find history, especially old photos, for the now out-of-print book, "Waldo County, The Way It Was".  We were paid $1000 for that job, and with the money purchased the negatives, photos, and photographic equipment of the late Walter Dickey of Belfast.  ….

    We had purchased a Kodak Ektagraph photo kit, which had two size stands with the proper lenses, and used 126 film.  We could take the Ektagraphi into homes and take pictures of their pictures, without borrowing them.  We copied literally hundreds of photos, and got prints of all of them.  The flash wore out on the Ektagraph, but that didn't stop us.  We got some darn good copies ….  out in the bright sun, set up the photo stands, and just kept taking pictures.  We did a slide show for Knox County, which I believe that they actually paid us for.  Any money we made went into buying films and getting films developed into photos.  The Ektagraph eventually became obsolete, and the films could not be developed. 

Saturday’s Blueberry Wingding was a tremendous success, at least from the perspective of the pancake flippers who never got a moment’s respite, start to finish. In fact, there were more breakfasts and raffle tickets sold than ever before. Again, Rick McLaughlin, owner of McLaughlin’s Lobster Shack, turned over his restaurant, kitchen and dining room to the L.I.A. who brought in all the fixings for the pancake breakfast, took over the griddles, ovens, coffee makers, and more. Special thanks to the local businesses that generously donated gift certificates for the raffle; it’s a big contribution to our town.