excitement for me. The excursion to Islesboro started in the coastal town of Lincolnville, Maine. Waiting in the parking lot of the Lobster Pound Restaurant, I frequently saw young children frolicking across the sandy Lincolnville Beach off of Route 1. The smell of freshly cooked seafood and salty sea air mixed together while I sat on one of the bucolic wooden benches along the shore. The Margaret Chase Smith, the Maine State Ferry Service's ship that ventured to Islesboro and back, quickly docked at the
background, what this day is for, and why this day is still around for people to celebrate. MollyOckett was a woman who was born in 1740 in Saco, Maine. She was an Abenaki Indian of the Pigwacket tribe and was baptized by a woman named Marie Agathe. MollyOckett was the daughter and granddaughter of chiefs. MollyOckett befriended the settlers of Western Maine and had a very close relationship with the towns of Andover, Fryeburg, Poland, Paris and of course, Bethel, which took place during the 18th and
mountain air exists a hidden paradise that I have treasured throughout my life. After an eight hour car ride from my house, I finally reach my getaway: Steuben, Maine. Words cannot describe the meaning, importance, and value I hold for this little town on the coast of Maine. Every summer since birth, my family and I have vacationed in Maine at a house owned by my grandparents and within close proximity to other close relatives. My mother’s father was born and raised in a nearby town, Milbridge, and
The Aroostook War never happened, but it certainly mattered. To the west, a few thousand New England militiamen walked north through Maine, some funding was appropriated, and one militiaman died of measles. To the east, New Brunswick moved some troops up the Saint John River and mobilized some local irregulars itself. Administrators of the disputed area from both sides were arrested, and confined, respectively, in Houlton and Fredericton. Fighting never broke out, and by the end of the winter of
I’m applying to SEA Semester, because I love the ocean. It’s been my dream from a young age to learn to sail and live on a ship. I’m from Aroostook County in Northern Maine, which is five hours away from the ocean. Every summer my parents would make sure I got to the ocean at least once, and I’ve romanticized it since I can remember. Since coming to Bowdoin, I’ve always spent my weekends biking and driving to the ocean, because it’s become a place for me to think clearly and escape the fast-paced
The Gathering The sunlight is blinding as I stumble out of the tent. The heat is suffocating. The surroundings are foreign, completely wrong. I am met with terrifying gang of freaks, ninjas, and clowns. I stare directly into the faces of the outcast and misunderstood and they don’t give a fuck, only a “Whoop! Whoop!” Days earlier, I boarded the bus that would take me to the abandoned military base just outside of Limestone. “Where you’re going,” the driver said, “there will be thousands of