Recently I read an essay by Charles Wright, better known as Sandy to me (“Maine Observer: Shave and a haircut, plus gas and good stories,” Nov. 18).

I, too, grew up in West Buxton. The first five years I spent living right beside Stan Townsend’s store in the village. So many memories came to mind after reading Sandy’s essay.

I think about the West Buxton Post Office, which had a little bell that rang as you opened the door, giving notice to the postmistress, Ethel Whitehouse. She was the jack of all trades in running her post office.

We had mailboxes lined up on the walls with our post box number on it. You had to remember the combination, but if you didn’t, Ethel would be very gracious and go behind the wall to get your mail for you.

In West Buxton we all knew each other. We knew Teny Redlon had the best divinity fudge in the whole wide world. Come Halloween you had better be on your game to get a piece before it all ran out!

Vergie Wright (Sandy’s mom) was my Girl Scout leader. Some of the girls would pass Townsend’s Store on the way to the meetings, pop in to the store, spend their dues money and tell Vergie they had forgotten it. Like dummies, we all thought, of course, that she would believe us.

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Charlie Wright Sr. and Vergie always had a Buxton/Hollis Winter Carnival. We had so much fun. As we got older they got a jukebox and we all went to the dances at Buxton Town Hall. This was on Friday night and all the kids from Buxton and Hollis were doing the old-time rock and roll.

Then we got fancy and we had dancing lessons taught to us by Charlotte Lake from Waterboro. These were over the fire station in the Bar Mills section of Buxton. Later we would go to the gym at Buxton High School and have a big formal-like dance.

Across the street from the post office was the power station. A whistle blew at 5:30 all over the village to let us know it was quitting time — plus time for us kids to get home for our supper!

If there was a fire, it notified the firemen. They had different rings for what side of town was in trouble. Just like our phones: Two short rings, four long got you Mrs. So-and-so’s house. There were party lines, and everyone listened in on everyone.

Oh yes, I forgot the one-room schoolhouse, with all grades and an outhouse. Later, when we got Jack Memorial School, we had the pleasure of riding to school on a yellow bus.

We had two sets of bus drivers, the Churchills at the Bonny Eagle end and the Dearborns in Bar Mills. If you got kicked off the bus, you walked to school. There was a day when a bunch got thrown off and ended up hailing down the local butcher, and he put them in the back of the truck and got to school before the bus did.

I, for one, had fun in my town. I loved my friends, I loved the old folks. I just am so grateful God plopped me into West Buxton, because I wouldn’t want to have grown up anywhere else.

Jeanie Woodward is a resident of Buxton.

 


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