Perham's Closing

Perham's of West Paris will be closing in July after 90 years in business.

The store, which sold minerals and gems as well as books and equipment for prospecting, was opened in 1919 by Stanley Perham. In December, Stanley's daughter and current owner Jane Perham said she would close the store until June 1, but the business did not reopen.

In addition to the store, the business includes a museum display of gems and minerals unearthed at local quarries. Perham and her father have sent samples to the American Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian Institution.

The pieces in the museum display will be given to a private party who will keep them in Maine. Perham said her brother was hoping to keep the quarries he owns open for public access as long as they are covered by liability insurance. [Link]

Her brother, Frank Perham, is Maine's leading expert on pegmatites, and even has a mineral—Perhamite—named for him.

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Ed McMahon, Bingo Caller

Ed McMahon got his professional start calling bingo at a carnival in Mexico, Maine.

On our arrival in Mexico it turned out we had joined one of the toughest carnivals on the road. The night before a guy had been killed by another guy. He got angry and hit his friend over the head with a sledgehammer. That smarts!

The carnival had closed for the night and the wake was going on when we pulled into the grounds and started setting up to be ready to start calling bingo bright and early the next morning. This was hard work and all five men in the troupe including Frank, the boss, worked at it. It meant raising the tent, setting up the counters in the interior and the display table in the back, hooking up the PA system and the lights that would make the prizes look prettier than they really were.

We did what they told me was good business and I was enjoying the whole new experience tremendously. I was beginning to feel at home among the people, the sights, and the smells of the carnival and I wanted to be 100 percent one of them. [Here's Ed: The Autobiography of Ed McMahon, pp. 87-88]

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Free Access to Images of America

Until July 31, 2009, you can browse several Maine titles from the Arcadia Publishing Images of America series. If asked to log in, enter:

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Local and Regional History Online: A History of American Life in Images and Texts is a unique new resource cultivated from Arcadia Publishing's award-winning series of local history books. At completion, it will include over 1 million historical images and texts, celebrating the places and faces that give America its spirit and life. All of the images and texts have been indexed to provide an unprecedented level of access into the contents, enabling users to explore the depth of a town's history or to compare the histories of various towns, cultures, ethnic groups, architectural features, and more.

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Portland Ink

There's a great post today at Strange Maps about the city of Portland, inspired by an unusual tattoo.

Fixing her regional loyalty in indelible ink on skin, Julia had a map of Portland, ME tattooed on her shoulder. A comparison with the more conventional map on the right indicates that her tat clearly shows the Portland peninsula, the Fore River, Back Cove and surrounding coastline, plus a large part of the road network connecting Maine’s biggest city to its hinterland.

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Endangered Sturgeon Found in Saco River

A rare shortnose sturgeon was caught in the Saco River this week.

While the Atlantic sturgeon had seemingly disappeared for about 100 years, its more rare cousin had apparently never been seen in the Saco. At least not until researchers pulled one up Tuesday.

"It's crazy," said James Sulikowski, assistant professor of marine sciences. "Nobody had any idea that we would catch a shortnose."

Squiers, for one, thinks it may be another sign that the state's only known spawning population of shortnose sturgeon – in the Kennebec and Androscoggin rivers – is expanding. He and others believe one of those fish paid a visit to the Saco.

"Shortnose sturgeon were thought to stay within their natal river system," he said. "It appears, based on the work in Maine, that they're moving more than thought." [Link]

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The Duke Launches a Battleship

Lisa Paul shares this story of John Wayne christening a ship at BIW.

An executive at the Bath Iron Works, the shipyard that has been producing US Navy vessels for over 100 years, told me about the time John Wayne was invited to christen a battleship. He smashed the champagne bottle over the hull, which was supposed to signal the hydraulics to release the ship down the ramp and into the water. Nothing happened. In as superstition-riddled an industry as the maritime world, this is the greatest bad juju — pretty much a curse on a ship for all time. There was a horrified pause. Then the Duke reached out with one long arm and gave the bow of the ship a shove. It slid down the ramp to thunderous applause. [Link]

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Law Forbids "Squaw"

A bill signed yesterday will tighten the law that bars use of the word "squaw" for official place names in Maine.

After Maine's law took effect, Big Squaw Mountain in Greenville became Big Moose Mountain; Squaw Pond became Sipun, the Passamaquoddy Indian word for blackfly; and a couple of dozen other names were changed.

But there have been efforts in some communities to end-run the restriction by using shorter versions of the word, such as "Squa," or combining it with another word to form place names. In northern Maine's Aroostook County, a lake near Mapleton remained Squapan Lake. And in coastal Stockton Springs, a local homeowners' group objected to the renaming of Squaw Point to Defence Road. [Link]

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Extreme Frugality

W. Hodding Carter and his family are attempting to live in rural Maine on $550 a month. In the most recent of his Extreme Frugality blog posts at Gourmet.com, Carter scavenges a roadkilled duck.

Since it was not only dark but also misty, I was driving slowly down Route 52 when suddenly my frugal eye spotted a vibrant green-and-orange something lying alongside the road. Given the conditions, it was just a blur, but my sharply honed penny-pincher’s sixth sense knew it was food. I jerked the car to a stop, ran out in front of a truck, and snatched dinner from a certain squashing.

It was … sniff, sniff … fresh roadkill. A mallard, in fact. Judging by the scent and a smattering of feathers across the pavement, it must’ve happened in the past hour or so—or else, surely, some other scavenger would have made off with it. [Link]

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