We receive the Register to keep up with all that is going on and changing in Boothbay and East Boothbay. We are a couple of weeks behind by the time the paper reaches us in Florida. This is a comment about a photograph in issue 44 (Nov. 4). There was a wonderful picture of an errant float that had ended up in front of my grandparents’ (Percy and Mahala Orne) house on the beach on Murray Hill (the one right next to the public float). It reminded me of the clambakes that had happened there with all the extended families. The rocks that held the metal sheet that covered the fire. The seaweed that enrobed all the lobsters, clams, and corn and was all finally covered with a canvas tarp. It reminded me of the coleslaw, baked beans and pies.
The problem is that I know that rock jetty well. I've climbed it a million times. Sitting at the end of that rock with the wind turning cold and the sun warm on the rock and your face is more than just a wonderful memory, it is where I go sometimes in my daydreams. That rock jetty is Milltide, not Cousins Rock. I don't know who wrote the caption, but this is part of my heritage. Milltide will always be Milltide. Calling that part of my heritage something other than its proper name breaks my heart.
I always look forward to your next issue.
Florida and East Boothbay