Nomad News-Vol.3-No.70

GIVE ME ONE WITHOUT THE WORM: When my brother, sister, and I were kids, our father's work took us to Owls Head, Maine each summer. A rare experience for children at that time. One of the local residents was Levi Ledbetter and his wife, whose name I do not recall. The Ledbetters put new meaning to the word frugal. Levi was a lobsterman, but he lobstered with a sailboat because wind was free and gasoline cost money. I'm not making this up. Levi disliked children, for some reason, but he took a liking to me. I looked like a choir boy but actually, was quite mischievous. Maybe a little more than quite. Mr. Ledbetter took me lobstering with him in the sailboat, an honor not bestowed on my brother or any of the local children. One time when I was eight or nine, he had to sail to Vinalhaven a large island in the middle of Penobscot Bay, to pick up a new sail. He told my mother he would take me along if it was OK with her. It was. You could see Vinalhaven on a clear day, about fifteen miles from Owls Head. We had a brisk breeze going over and I spent my time roaming around until late afternoon when it was time to return. We departed in a light breeze and the sun was dropping near the horizon. We were less than halfway home when the breeze died. Mr. Ledbettter went below to start the auxiliary engine, a one-lunger that was started by swinging the flywheel. After a few swings, it failed to start. It was then that he started cursing. The harder he worked to spin that flywheel, the harder he cursed. After awhile, he gave up and came on deck to pull in the dory. A dory is a large rowboat that the fishermen hauled behind their boats to get from the dock to the mooring. He turned the tiller over to me and told me to keep the boat aimed at Owls Head Lighthouse, a pinpoint of light on the far off horizon. All the while he continued to swear. He swore at every pull of the oars. It was well past dark when we arrived home. Mrs Ledbetter was different. She would invite all the kids, local and summer, in for an Astrachan Apple; a deliciously swseet early season apple that promised delectable applesauce and pies. But, she always gave us "windfalls", apples that had fallen off the tree because they had a worm in them. I now jump ahead many years when I returned to Maine and purchased a cottage on Spruce Head Island, not far from Owls Head. On one of my trips, I took my mother along. One day she wished to look up Mary Foster, now married to the sheriff, and one of the kids who ate apples with us at Mrs. Ledbetters. Mary's parents had been friends of my parents. Mary reminisced about the time I had the impudence to ask Mrs. Ledbetter, when she offered the apples, to give me one without the worm. I didn't recall this, but she said they, meaning the local kids, would have never had the nerve to ask her that. Now, we come to the present. I have never missed a presidential election since I voted first for Franklin D. Roosevelt. Since that time, I have voted for many presidential candidates, and with few exceptions, all have been like Mrs. Ledbetter's "windfalls". All have had a worm in them. Like the Astrachan Apple, they talked and promised delicious and delectable things, but they were all elected with a worm and they fell from the tree of promises. In a few years, we will vote in another presidential election. The fate of our country will depend on the outcome. I pray we will elect a president without the worm.