Hello from Nowhere: Danforth, Maine Only a Memory of Yesteryear & Why You Break My Heart ..

My grandfather originally had lakefront property in a little town called Danforth Maine. Here is where he spent his winters away from the very busy hustle and bustle of his Baltimore home construction business.

He would leave the brash Baltimore winters where four inches of snow was considered a blizzard, just to drive for 18 hours straight, to end up where there was eight feet of snow and sheets of "black ice". Here he would work fifteen hours a day, giving hunting and guide tours to weary travelers. He would run the big lodge, and entertain. My grandmother would cook. My mother had the joy of cleaning the cabins, all of which my grandfather built with his own two hands. They called it the MAMU, and though his days were full of shoveling and plowing, something about being in the middle of nowhere calmed him.

Though the buildings are still there my grandmother sold the property years ago. I still go and look at the original camps, so well built they have survived so many hard winters. I imagine seeing my grandfather walking from camp to camp to check in on his visitors. The property is now called Living Waters and is put to good use

DANFORTH, DESTINATION NOWHERE

By way of car, Danforth is about 90 miles North of Bangor. If you take back roads for a swirling forty-five minutes from the Lincoln, Maine exit, you'll find it. It's one of those rides in the back woods where you keep asking, "Are we there yet?"

Each time I go there I wonder how anyone could have ever found this place. Something however kept drawing me back. I suppose it's in my blood.

Situated off Route 1, in the northwest area of Washington county, this small down dates back to the time of Thomas Danforth who was born in 1622 and died in 1699. Thomas Danforth was an important person in New England history, being Deputy Governor of Massachusetts In 1679. He was even a judge in the Salem Witch Trials.

Danforth took it's name from Thomas Danforth, though the first settler didn't arrive until 1829-1830 ending up in a place known as Morse Farm. Thriving by 1860 Danforth was incorporated and almost had 300 residents. Between 1870 through 1920 business flourished. The intercontenential railway ran right through the town of Danforth, and lumber mills and businesses were popping up everywhere. You could say, at that time, it was at it's peak.

ECONOMIC MELTDOWN LEAVES TOWN IN RUINS

Fast foward to now. To really understand the dilemma you must firt go to the Cornerstone Inn (Restaurant on Depot St), one of the earlier historic buildings in the town which still serves food and has been well maintained. On the walls you see the town of Danforth in it's full spendor, photos of main street and yesteryear. Buildings with absolutely wonderful architecture, just as the town hall stands restored to it's splendor, once all the buildings were cared about too.

A quick walk outside and around the corner brings you to the barren main street of Danforth, which is essentially a block long. One grocer, the town hall, library and town office remains. Other stores are in and out, an antique store is a welcome addition and a small cafe has changed hands probably ten times or more. Other places are boarded up, closed or town town.

I think of so many years ago and imagine the people walking thru the town and how hustly and bustly this one horse strip was. I see the people smiling and laughing and then I snap back into reality. No one is smiling, this is no tourist trap, this is the ruins of years of economic despair. This town is half of a memory.

Last year one of the old buildings was torn down to make extra room for parking at the cafe, only because it was so far gone it would have cost more to fix it than to rebuild it. The Bragdon's General Store which proudly stands on the corner is boarded up. Memories of visiting my grandfather's friends when I was a child still remain. Now, it stands with groceries left on the shelves, and the original linseed oil floors are nearly ruined from the dampness that has set in from years of non-use. With one grocer in the block, another is not needed.

I want to scream and yell in the middle of the street, "Somebody help! Help get this town back on track again. Where is Extreme Makeover TOWN EDITION?" Unfortunately no one would hear me, much less pay any attention if they did. Townspeople are working their butts off just to make ends meet, if they aren't they are living on government assistance. They don't have time to worry about a part of history that is long gone.

Historical grants are all over the place, but in a town of just over 600 people in the 2000 census, that may be around 723 now (if you count us part year visitors who have a camp or cabin there) chances to get the money or someone to care and do something about it is few and far between. I'm not saying the townspeople don't care, I see some work being done in the town and they take great pride in preserving theTown Hall and LIbrary. After all, it takes money to do things. I heard a repair to the town hall clock was quite costly.

When I went to upstate New York last year for research, I went through a lot of small podunk towns. What I noticed was all of them were historically important, and people in NY took great pride in fixing them up and rehabilitating the main street. Where is the money coming from? If there is money in podunk towns in NY why isn't there money in podunk towns in Maine? Are there more historical grants in NY than in Maine? Or perhaps should I get off my butt and start applying?

I stand here in my tiny town of Danforth and look around. The locals sometimes give me cold reception because I'm an "out of towner" and "not a real Mainer" and I don't say "PAAAAACCCKKK the CAAAA" or "AYA", but that doesn't mean I don't love Maine as much or more than they do. What is sad is that I seem to be the only one who is really worried about it. Strangely, they spend more time worrying about windmills aka alternative energy popping up all over--worried about the way they look. Perhaps they need to worry about the way their town looks!~

I plan someday to do something about it, it's on my list of things to do before I die. Perhaps form a town based historical society and raise money from anyone willing to give.

In the meantime, if I sent you a postcard it would read:

Hello ,

From Nowhere, it's me.

I wish I could say the town of Danforth is beautiful.

I stick to the lake and the sky and trees and surroundings.

For they, are still untouched by man.

That is the true beauty.

The rest is just plain sad.