Maine’s Governor Reed and His Beloved Lake
In the Belgrade Lakes region those with camps have somewhat similar lake experiences to share about being at camp on one of the seven ponds in our watershed. Stories passed down around lakeside campfires, a shared lunch of grilled red snappers eaten at a picnic table or enjoying a glass of wine or a cold beer sitting on weather worn Adirondack chairs lakeside. Stories stem from the many relationships with lake neighbors, family camp compounds, generations being born into life at camp and those who came to Maine from away for a visit and had to own a piece of it to get back to “their Maine.”
One such campfire story coming from the second lake in our chain of lakes is about John H. Reed, Maine’s 67th governor from 1959 to 1966. If he were alive today, he would surely give you an earful about his memories at Camp Aroostook and all of his lifelong adventures on the lake he loved dearly — North Pond.
His father, a successful potato farmer in Ft. Fairfield, bought the property on Lake View Drive in 1920, and a year later John was born. As a young man, he played on a summer baseball team with Smithfield native, and close friend over the years, David Hartford. They played, in the field across from Ketchum’s Store, then Corson’s Beach and now a private camp. He also golfed at Lakewood Golf Course as often as he could.
Other than fishing, another reason John loved being in Smithfield was its proximity to all of the fairs in Maine, especially those with harness racing on the schedule. John loved horses and harness racing. Although admittedly not very good at it, he did jog horses and even raced at the Presque Isle Fair. After moving to Augusta for work from The County*, he continued his interest by attending the harness races at Lewiston Raceway.
(*Editor’s Note: Aroostook Country, which contains the town of Ft. Fairfield, is the largest county by area in Maine and the second largest county east of the Mississippi. In Maine, it is simply called “The County.”)
Even though his hobby of owning and racing horses as a younger man was not as successful as he would have liked, he never lost his love of the trotters and pacers over the years. During one visit he recollected seeing any combination of my grandfather, brothers, or cousins jogging horses to train them on the side of Route 8, a very long time ago, now. In letters to me he would frequently mention how well my brother-in-law in N.J. or my brothers were doing wherever they were racing and would even name the horses!
I had the opportunity to meet John after learning from my oldest brother, Gary, a successful harness horseman, that John had a camp on North Pond. As John, the retiree, often did while at camp, he visited Sidney Training Center to check on the harness race horses in Gary’s stable. One day in early September 1996, I was arriving for a visit as he was leaving the stable. Gary told me who he was.
There was a mystique about having a retired Maine governor, someone who chose a life of service, and chose to have a little camp on North Pond. I had only seen him as Grand Marshall of Smithfield’s sesquicentennial celebration [in 1990], a parade I have etched in my memory. I recently found the picture I have of him sitting atop the back seat of the convertible waving to the crowds of onlookers. At the time I had no idea he was a lake neighbor!
One day, rather than driving by his camp on the way to mine, I threw caution to the wind, pulled into the pine-needle-covered driveway and knocked on the door. The door opened, we said warm hellos. I introduced myself as we shook hands and was immediately invited in, met Cora, his lovely wife and was asked to please sit down and would I like anything to drink. The rustic camp was furnished with 1950s vintage furniture mixed in with a few antiques. Books were scattered on the coffee table and shelves, and there were stacks of newspapers. Checkered curtains with matching valances hung from the large windows facing the water across from the narrow staircase to reach the bedrooms upstairs. This was a true camp on North Pond, nothing fancy, where summers were relished for over 60 years at that time, and memories cherished. It was camp, pure and simple.
John shared in an archived North Pond News newsletter that his earliest memories were as a two year old in the water. His daughter, Ruth, a.k.a. Rudy, said she still has the photo of him in the lake at 6 months old. The camp was one of the first one-room fishing camps on what is now Lake View Drive. As John and his brother grew up looking forward to their time at camp fishing with their dad, a strong connection to the lake was forged. John eventually assumed ownership when his brother lost interest. He felt like the luckiest man alive. He told a lake neighbor he had to choose between a camp on Lake Wesserunsett at one point and the family camp on North Pond. Hands down the choice was North Pond because of the fishing. John was very tall and whenever he had his old, reliable boat out, his head could be seen above the small windshield with his warm smile as he sped by.
After retirement from his life of politics and public service, he and his wife made the journey from their home in Washington D.C. to camp in Smithfield every summer. Once settled in, Cora and John marked their calendar with dates of the small town potluck church suppers, Fairview Grange #342 Wednesday night suppers. They attended Smithfield Baptist Church every Sunday which has a nice view of North Pond. The next camp over, lake neighbors were some of his favorite people to socialize with, be it around the campfire or in their cozy camp living room, after supper in the evenings.
John loved receiving my hot-off-the-press issues of North Pond News in his Washington D.C. mailbox. I would receive a note in the mail stating it was “the best one yet” with each issue. He would always mention a particular article or bit of lake news to comment on or ask me about. He participated in Ice Out prediction in spring 2011, and after he received his prize in the mail he wrote back, “I can’t believe I won a prize in the ‘Ice Out Derby!’ I am happy to have the NPA bumper sticker and will put it on my car. I was at the lake one time when the ice went out. It all seemed to go fast around noon and it soon was all over. Glad you and the boys could see it…I am looking forward to going to the lake.” He often timed his camp time around when the North Pond Association served up a lobster feed at their annual meeting and there are photos of him with the lobster bib in place! Always a member, he knew how important participation was for the sake of the lake.
Rudy, her husband, and extended family members are still enjoying life at Camp Aroostook, only now it is more comfortable with a mini split, a more spacious updated kitchen, a few pieces of more comfortable furniture have been replaced the vintage furniture, and it is insulated for winter visits. Rudy told me if the updates had been done when he was alive, he would have chosen to live there year round, in the place he loved so dearly. She and her sister, Cheryl, thoughtfully gave me his harness horse cufflinks and tie clip as a memento of our friendship.
During my initial visit to Camp Aroostook, John and wife Cora were about to find out that I did not just drop in to say hello. I had started a new teaching job in a small, rural town, and knowing he was from a small town, I thought my 8th graders could use some words of wisdom from a former small town, farm boy with big dreams, and many achievements. He was very gracious and without hesitation put a date in his calendar. That was just the kind of man he was.
My small town students had never been more attentive than when he arrived in September 1996 and they welcomed him with questions and got thoughtful, and entertaining at times, answers. They heard history from a person whose childhood they could relate to, who set goals, became part of their state’s history, part of world history as an ambassador. I submitted a short article for the Morning Sentinel and he was tickled by the mention of his visit when he received the clipping in the mail.
You never know what is going to become a campfire story at camp. I am hoping my former students remember that classroom visit as much as I do. I bet his friends and neighbors around his beloved North Pond shared many stories over the many years he spent at Camp Aroostook. Perhaps they retell some of it around the campfire…Just like you!
Editor’s Note: John Reed died in November 2012 at age 91. You can read his obituary here.
More Like This: Read the Author’s Account of Her Friendship With Writer E.B. White
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