Scarborough at 350: Linking the Past to the Present
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............ | READ ALL ABOUT IT… Scarborough At 350: Linking the Past to the Present provides an intimate and fascinating look at the town of Scarborough as it celebrates its 350 th anniversary. Featuring the works of a team of talented volunteer writers, historians, and photographers, the book is a compilation of facts, personal remembrances, and much, much more, from maps, photographs, and artwork, to reports on the first settlers to an in-depth account of today’s thriving town of Scarborough. For residents past and present, this book will make you proud of your connection to the town and its people. For everyone else, this book will engross and delight. The book will be available at many gift shops and other locations in Scarborough. There are also limited edition copies available; these are the first 350 books printed, numbered consecutively and include a lithograph plate with the author's signatures. The sale of these is a fundraiser for the 350th Committee. Please see the special order form below. For more information, contact Sylvia Most at sylviam@maine.rr.com or 883-1612. Please read the excerpts below.
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Read about the town’s early history.
The Battle at Moore’s Brook, Scarborough, Maine, June 29, 1677: It was a morning in June, the enemy of the English had returned, and the settlers sounded the alarm. A small band of Indians had been spotted moving half a mile away east of the ferry, which serviced Black Point and Blue Point. Having said their morning prayers, the soldiers marched forth, ninety to one hundred men. Twenty were under the command of Major Clarke, a man nearly 70, who stayed behind. Friendly Indians alongside English soldiers and their leader, Lieutenant Richardson, formed one party, probably at the forefront. English and friendly Indian soldiers from the remaining ships marched to the site under the command of Captain Swett. To protect what they called their own, garrisoned townsmen joined the battle, probably led by their town’s savior and garrison commander, Lieutenant Tippen. As they marched with their backs to the sea, they traveled the pastured land of the neck. The lands to the left sloped down to the mouth of the river where, by water’s edge, lay the now unused fishing stages and the evaporating pools. Beyond this, across the broken lands of the marsh, lay Winnock’s Neck with its chalky bright clam heaps marking the feasting place for the local natives. The men marched through the fields past the blooming English roses that Henry Joceyln’s brother, John Josselyn, wrote about during quieter days. The desolation of the cultivated land they walked through was complete: blackened fields, houses, and barns burned the year before. —from A Doleful Slaughter near Black Point by Sumner Hunnewell
Read about life in Scarborough in the 1920s.
I lived about a mile from Dunstan village over on the Payne Road, which was then called the Old Stage Road. Few people owned automobiles, but every family had a horse or two for transportation. In the fall those who had cars “put them up” for the winter. “Put them up” was an appropriate phrase, for the cars rested on blocks to take the weight off the tires. The town’s roads were all dirt; there were no paved roads. Many roadways became mired in mud with the arrival of spring. After winter storms, townspeople rolled the roads to pack down the snow. People exchanged wagons for sleighs and glided across the roads on runners. Horses, while quite dependable, occasionally caused problems. My father drove his wagon and team of horses back and forth to work at Prouts Neck. Just as he began the turn off Black Point Road, a trolley rolled by. Terrified by the noisy contraption, the horses turned the corner, probably on two wheels, and threw my father out of the wagon. He went into Dr. Wentworth’s house and called home, telling Mother “Get the children in out of the driveway, the horses are coming home!” And sure enough, they did.
—from The Way It Was by Margery Milliken Fancy
Read about Scarborough during World War II.
During World War II life changed on Prouts Neck as elsewhere. My mother, Olyve Frederick, became the Air Raid Warden and we walked every street in the nearby area each evening to be sure no light could be seen. This was particularly important among the cottages lining the beach front. It was not a popular job; no one reacted happily at being told either to turn off their lights or to cover their windows so no light could escape. At the same time the U.S. Army arrived on Scarborough Beach. They built a hut, first near the Atlantic House and later at the foot of Massacre Lane. Six soldiers at a time rode a truck from their Saco barracks to the hut to stay for four days. Rifle-toting soldiers patrolled the beach 24 hours a day, watching for any unusual activity as well as submarines. This continued from May 1942 to November 1943, then the company left to go overseas. Naturally, during this time most year-round residents became acquainted with these young service men. My father, Walter Frederick. loaned clam diggers, his skates, and sometimes his tools. My mother baked goodies at the request of one young man. We had no sugar in those days of rationing, so he brought her the required amount of that scarce commodity and she provided everything else. The young G.I. was so appreciative, as were the remaining men in the hut with whom he shared his homemade brownies, that my mother felt well paid for her effort. When these young soldiers left, we knew and they knew that some of them would never return. It made us sad to see them go. —from Prouts Neck War Years by Elaine Frederick Killelea © Scarborough 350 th Committee and the authors |
Please click here for a printable version of this order form. Mailing instructions are below.
Please Mail To: Scarborough 350th
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