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Journalism as history II — the Phoenicians in Maine
Earlier I posted a story I wrote about some ancient amphoras (jugs) that were found by divers on the sea floor off Maine. That story included some expert opinions that the amphoras came from ancient Phoenicians who had visited the Maine coast before the birth of Christ. Now, my rummaging around in my old files has turned up a second story I wrote in 1976 that claimed the stone etchings on Monhegan Island (and perhaps elsewhere) also had connections to the Phoenicians. I don’t recall the origins of either of these stories, so I don’t know if they came from the same source. But both of the stories were well played in newspapers around the country.
By ARTHUR FREDERICK
MONHEGAN ISLAND, Maine (UPI) – A few crude rock carvings on this craggy coastal island could force historians to take another look at who discovered America and where the American Indians came from.
The carvings, known as the Monhegan Inscription, have been studied since 1855. But they and other carvings in New England have taken on new meaning to archeologists and linguists in the past few years. And they may indicate that the New England coast was a busy trade center for Phoenician sailors as long ago as 200 B.C.
For many years the inscriptions along with inscriptions in Bourne, Mass. and elsewhere in the region have been thought to be the work of Norse sailors. The theory was that the Norsemen discovered America several hundred years before Columbus.
But now some archeologists, including James P. Whittall, director of archeology for the Early Sites Research Society in Boston, feel the inscription is written in Ogam script used by the Celts in the Iberian peninsula as long ago as 2000 B.C.
Whittall said the inscription was translated by Dr. Barry Fell, president of Boston’s Epigraphic Society, to read “Long ships of Phoenicia: cargo lots landing quay.” If the translation is correct, it could have been a message to Phoenicians who may have landed at Monhegan long before the birth of Christ to deal in fish, furs and minerals.
“When these inscriptions were found along the New England coast, some tried to apply them to the Norsemen because some of the symbols are the same,” Whittall said. “They forced the symbols into a Norse translation, so scholars ended up calling them a fraud.”
“They never studied Iberian script, because it then was very little known and not translated,” he said. “One of the problems with the Norse is there is a close similarity between Iberian and Norse runic script, and we feel runic script was developed out of Iberian script.”
Nick Apollonio’s guitars
I don’t remember writing this story in 1974. I don’t remember meeting Nick Apollonio, and I don’t know if I went down to Camden to interview him or if I simply talked to him on the telephone. But I did look him up via Google and it seems that he’s still in the Camden area and still making guitars that musicians value very highly. He was 27 when I wrote this story, and that would make him 67 now – my age. As I’ve noted elsewhere on this blog, Maine was an absolute treasure trove of interesting people doing great things. Kind of a writer’s paradise.
Camden man is specialist in guitars
CAMDEN, Maine (UPI) – The guitars that Nick Apollonio makes are fashioned out of redwood or cedar on the second floor of a barn that overlooks the rocky coast.
The six and 12-string instruments have been coming out of Apollonio’s shop, one at a time, since 1968. He says they are about the best that can be found anywhere.
“I specialize in 12-strings, because I found I could make a good tone,” he said. But Apollonio also makes six-string guitars, dulcimers, and he recently completed his first fiddle.
“I did a fiddle last February, and that was great,” he said. “I used a redwood top with a walnut body, and it sounds excellent.” Violins are usually made out of maple, with spruce tops.
Apollonio is 27, and the guitar shop, which he calls The Works, got underway in 1968, right after he got out of college.
“I got into it slowly,” he said. “When I was a teenager, I learned to play the electric guitar and later on developed an interest in folk music, to the point where I wanted my own guitar.
“A friend of mine, Gordon Bok, had two excellent guitars, one of which he had made, and he convinced me that I should try to make one,” he said. “It was so simple that I thought it was worth a try.”
The first two or three guitars came out sounding pretty good.
“Somebody gave me an order, and a little later on I just went ahead and opened the shop. I sold about 12 instruments that first summer,” he said.
One of Apollonio’s instruments was made for Paul Stookey, formerly with the Peter Paul and Mary group.
The guitars can be made to produce different tones and the finish can be simple or elaborate. The instruments cost anywhere from $100 to $700.
“The difference is tone, playability and the detail that goes into it,” he said.
Most of the orders have resulted from word of mouth and most come from the New England area, although Apollonio has received orders from as far away as California and Louisiana.
Apollonio says he wants to get into making stringed instruments which are played in the Balkans.
“The Ukranians and the Greeks use all kinds of little stringed instruments for their dances, and I’m curious about them,” he said.
Animal stories/Rockport Harbor II
While Andre the Seal held the title of most-written-about animal in Rockport Harbor, there were other animal stories that occasionally originated in that seacoast town. This story was about a baby sperm whale that floated into the harbor, and the efforts to keep it alive. I don’t recall the outcome of this story, whether the baby whale lived or died.
By ARTHUR FREDERICK
ROCKPORT, Maine (UPI) – They built a sling out of beams and fish nets, and gently eased the newborn sperm whale over it in the shallow water near the shore at Rockport Harbor.
Straps that usually hoist boats from the water were drawn up and the baby whale, weak from hunger and close to death, was moved onto a dock and into the back of a large red and white van for the ride down the turnpike to Boston.
The little whale had floated into the harbor early Monday. At first it swam in lazy circles. Then it floated up and rested on the sand near shore.
People waded out and tried to push the whale back into deep water, but it kept turning about and moving back near the shore. Hundreds of people lined the beach and watched the whale as it lay in the shallow water.
Biology students from the College of the Atlantic in Bar Harbor came to Rockport and helped experts from the New England Aquarium in Boston check over the whale. At first it was thought eh animal was about a year old, but Dr. Joseph Geraci, a veterinarian at the New England Aquarium, and aquarium director John Prescott said the whale was a baby which had been separated from or rejected by its mother,,
They said the baby whale hadn’t been fed in some time. They said it was dehydrated and had lost as much as a third of its weight, which at birth is about 3,000 pounds.
A private plane was sent aloft to search the coast for the mother. If she had been found, the baby would have been towed out to meet her. But she wasn’t found, and Prescott and Dr. Geraci began making plans to move the whale to the New York Aquarium.
The examination early Tuesday, however, indicated the whale wouldn’t survive the trip. It was decided to take it to the aquarium in Boston.
Harry Goodridge, the local harbormaster, had been with the whale since it first came into the harbor.
“They gave him massive doses of antibiotics,” Goodridge said. “There is a lot of interest in him because he’s the first live sperm whale anyone’s ever had.”
Louis Garibaldi, the New England Aquarium’s curator, cautioned that chances of saving the little whale were slim.
“The animal is in very poor condition,” he said. “It is a recent newborn, it’s very thin and it’s had little nutrition.”
“The prognosis is poor, and it appears the whale may die no matter what we do.”
Animal stories: Andre the Seal
There are some stories that get written once a year, over and over again. In Maine, the king of all once-a-year stories was Andre the Seal. Maine reporters cringed every year when Andre, a harbor seal that had been abandoned as a baby by his mother, would return to Rockport Harbor. I must have written this story at least a half-dozen times. This was the 1976 version.
Andre returns to Maine
By ARTHUR FREDERICK
ROCKPORT, Maine (UPI) – When the sky lightened over a foggy Rockport Harbor Monday, Andre was there.
Andre, a fat 16-year-old harbor seal, had spent most of the past two weeks lounging in a series of rowboats from Port Clyde to Cape Rosier. His trainer, Harry Goodridge, Rockport’s harbormaster, was beginning to think that Andre had decided to stay free.
Goodridge found Andre when he was a small pup, not long after the seal had been abandoned by his mother. Goodridge kept the little seal in his bathtub for a while, and later built him a pen in the harbor.
Andre learned tricks, and the seal and his trainer have been entertaining visitors to Rockport since the early 1960s.
In the winter, Andre would swim south, and spent some time in the harbor in Marblehead, Mass. But the past three years Goodridge has taken Andrew to the New England Aquarium in Boston for the winter.
In the spring, Andre has been taken to Marblehead and set free. A few days later, he shows up in Rockport.
Andre usually makes the swim in three or four days. But this year was different.
Andre visited some people along the coast and played games with boaters before arriving in Port Clyde, a few miles south of Rockport. He climbed into a rowboat, moored 200 feet offshore, and went to sleep.
Andre stayed in the boat for two days, sleeping and sunning himself. A local resident said the seal would occasionally scoop up a flipperful of water from the bottom of the boat and lazily splash himself. His next visit was at Deer Isle, about 20 miles east of Rockport. He spent some time in a rowboat there, and then was spotted in a boat in Cape Rozier.
But two boys were at Goodridge’s house early Monday.
“They told me he was back,” Goodridge said. “I went down to the harbor and and he was there heckling a lobsterman.”
“When he saw me, he jumped riight into his cage.”
Goodridge said Andre looked good, and said he had lost some of the weight he had gained over the winter at the aquarium.
“He was just enjoying his vacation, I guess,” Goodridge said. “I began to get a little worried when he didn’t come home, but I kept thinking that he was free for years, and that he always came back.”
When Andre spent his winters free, he would sometimes take off for extended periods.
“He was gone for more than three months once,” Goodridge said. “Probably went to the North Pole.”
While Goodridge and his wife worry about Andre when he’s gone, they both have hoped that the seal would one day leave Rockport Harbor and learn to live on his own.
“We’ve always hoped he would go wild,” Mrs. Goodridge said. “We hate to keep him cooped up all year.”
“But if he comes back, There’s a place for him, and plenty of fish.”
Dog stories II: Bruiser the police dog
This is a good example of the “there’s a good story almost everywhere if you look for it” school. I found out about Bruiser by doing a Google search after finding his grave in a pet cemetery. I wrote the story for my wife’s real estate blog.
Bruiser the German Shepherd did not have what you may think of as an auspicious beginning. His first owner got rid of him because he bit somebody.
A dog who bites people would probably not be accepted today as a good police dog candidate. But back in the early 1970s, things may have been a bit looser. The St. Petersburg Police Department wanted to start a canine unit, and Bruiser was available. So that’s what happened – Bruiser became the city’s very first canine officer in the early 1970s.
Officer Bill Trappman became Bruiser’s handler, partner and friend. Together, they rescued a little girl in what was one of the decade’s biggest local crime stories.
In June of 1972, Trappman and Bruiser were called to a home near Booker Creek. An hysterical woman told Trappman that a man had broken into her home and kidnapped her two-year-old daughter.
Bruiser immediately picked up the trail, even though a recent rain had made tracking very difficult. In just a few minutes, Bruiser led Trappman to nearby Booker Creek, and Trappman’s flashlight beam picked up the sight of a man who was slamming the little girl against a tree trunk.
The man tossed the little girl in the creek and then jumped in himself. Trappman went after the girl, while Bruiser pursued the man. The girl survived the incident, and the man, a former convict who had recently been released from prison, went back to jail.
Trappman gave all the credit to Bruiser.
“He was everything,” Trappman said later in the St. Petersburg TIMES about his canine partner. “I was just the dummy on the end of the leash. He was the best partner I ever had and the best cop I ever knew.”
Bruiser was eight years old when all that happened. Four years later, when he was 12, the pain in his legs and hips got so bad that Trappman realized the time had come. He carried Bruiser to the vet’s, and he was put to sleep.
According to Trappman, Bruiser sniffed out more than 14,000 pounds of narcotics during his career, and helped send 127 criminals to prison.
* * *
On the day after Christmas, we decided to tour Green Mounds Pet Cemetery, a nearly forgotten pet cemetery behind Fletcher’s Harley-Davidson on US19 in Clearwater. The Fletcher family now owns and cares for the cemetery, having taken title to it when they bought a large tract of land behind their motorcycle dealership.
On the farthest corner of the cemetery, in the shade of a tree, we saw a statue of what looked like a German Shepherd dog. As we approached and then scraped the dirt from the closest grave marker, we saw the name “Bruiser.” Another line said, “St. Pete Canine Police.”
Bruiser’s grave is surrounded by a number of other St. Pete Police canines, perhaps 10 or so. They watch over a peaceful and well-cared-for tract that is the final resting place of several hundreds of pets, mostly dogs and cats but also a pony named Twinkles, who has her own fenced plot.
Speechwriting
I didn’t have much speechwriting experience when I went to work in the U.S. Senate, but I did have a leg up on most people because I had loads of experience at writing news for broadcasters. At UPI, I spent many work shifts on the broadcast desk, writing news for radio newscasters. “Writing for the ear,” we called it. As it turned out, “writing for the ear” applied perfectly to writing speeches – it even used the same punctuation – three dots instead of commas, for example, no abbreviations and no capitalization. Or, more accurately, ALL capitalization. The idea was to make the copy as easy to read as possible since the speaker would be reading the words out loud with little opportunity to try to figure out complicated syntax or sentence construction. Senator William Hathaway, my boss, delivered this speech to the Young Democrats State Convention in Augusta, Maine. The theme – the ability to accept divergent views – was no accident. He was getting hammered by young people, many of whom were staunch environmentalists. Why? Because he was a longtime advocate of the Dickey-Lincoln Hydroelectric project – a project favored by labor because of the jobs it would have created, but opposed by many environmentalists because of the thousands of acres of forest land that it would have destroyed. By the way, that project was ultimately abandoned.
IT IS ALWAYS A PLEASURE FOR ME TO APPEAR BEFORE A GROUP OF YOUNG PEOPLE – ESPECIALLY YOUNG DEMOCRATS. I SINCERELY BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE THE LIFEBLOOD AND THE FUTURE OF THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY.
I HOPE THAT THERE WILL BE AN HONEST AND FRANK EXCHANGE OF OPINIONS BETWEEN US TODAY. I ALSO HOPE THAT YOU WILL ASK QUESTIONS AND… ON MY PART… I PROMISE TO EXPRESS MY VIEWS AS CANDIDLY AS POSSIBLE.
MOST IF NOT ALL OF YOU HERE TODAY CANNOT REMEMBER WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO BE A DEMOCRAT IN MAINE 25 YEARS AGO. THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY IN MAINE WAS PRACTICALLY NONEXISTENT. WE WERE FEW IN NUMBER AND OUR INFLUENCE WAS NEGLIGIBLE. THE ENSUING TWO DECADES WAS A CLEAR STORY OF SUCCESS. AFTER NEARLY A CENTURY AS A MINORITY THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY OF MAINE CAME TO DOMINATE THE POLITICAL STRUCTURE OF THIS STATE. WHILE CHANGING THE FACE OF POLITICS IN MAINE WE MANAGED TO IMPROVE THE LIVES OF MANY MAINE PEOPLE.
I BELIEVE WE WERE SUCCESSFUL IN THAT EFFORT BECAUSE WE WERE WILLING TO WORK TOGETHER AND TO HELP EACH OTHER. WE WERE WILLING TO OVERLOOK THE ISSUES THAT DIVIDED US AND INSTEAD LOOKED TO THE ISSUES THAT UNITED US. WE LISTENED TO EACH OTHER, AND WE CARED ENOUGH ABOUT WHAT WE WERE DOING TO WORK TOGETHER AS A TEAM.
IT WASN’T ALWAYS AN EASY TASK. BUT WE NEVER LOST SIGHT OF OUR PURPOSE – TO MAKE MAINE AND THIS NATION A BETTER PLACE FOR ALL CITIZENS TO LIVE AND WORK… AND NOT JUST FOR THE WEALTHY AND THE WELL-TO-DO.
OVER THE YEARS, THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY OFFERED THE VOTERS GOOD CANDIDATES, GOOD PROGRAMS AND A GREAT DEAL OF IMAGINATION. WE DELIVERED ON OUR PROMISES, TO THE BENEFIT OF THE VAST MAJORITY OF MAINE PEOPLE. AS A DEMOCRAT, I AM PROUD OF OUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND YOU… AS THE SUCCESSORS TO THIS DEMOCRATIC TRADITION… CAN BE PROUD TOO.
BUT WE MUST CAUTION OURSLEVES AGAINST COMPLACENCY. THE TRIUMPHS OF THE PAST CANNOT BE RELIED UPON ON TO GUARANTEE OUR VICTORIES IN THE FUTURE. TO YIELD TO THAT TEMPTATION IS TO INVITE DEFEAT. OUR PARTY WILL NOT BE JUDGED BY ITS PAST PERFORMANCE… BUT RATHER BY ITS PRESENT POLICIES AND BY ITS FUTURE PROPOSALS.
BUT TODAY I WOULD LIKE TO SPEAK TO YOU OF A SECOND DANGER THAT THREATENS THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY.
SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT: Restaurant reviews
How did restaurant reviews get into the writing mix? Beth and I like to go out to eat and we do so a lot. We thought that some restaurant reviews might be a good change of pace for the real estate blog, so I started making that a part of the go-out-to-eat routine. Sometimes I’d forget, but other times I’d grab a quick picture and dash off a few paragraphs. This one was about Peggy O’Neill’s, an Irish pub in the old historic part of downtown Palm Harbor.
I’m not a huge fan of the Irish pub/pub food concept, but there are times when nothing but a good burger or some fish and chips will do. And when that moment strikes, Peggy O’Neill’s in old downtown Palm Harbor really fits the bill.
There are a few important items to mention about Peggy O’Neill’s:
First, Peggy O’Neill was supposedly a young Irish woman who immigrated from Ireland to America in 1912, expecting to reunite with her fiance and get married. Unfortunately, the ship she chose for her trip was the Titanic. More than 1,000 survived the sinking of the Titanic, but Peggy wasn’t one of them.
Another item of interest: Peggy O’Neill’s is located in the old Sutherland building at 1026 Florida Ave. in old Palm Harbor, close to Alt. 19. That old building is pretty interesting from an architectural viewpoint, and the old post office trappings have been left alone in what is now the dining room.
The corned beef and cabbage is worth trying; so is the fish & chips. I had a reuben sandwich on a recent trip, and that was excellent, as well. One of our companions tried the Shepard’s Pie, and said it was great.
Like most Irish pubs, Peggy O’Neill’s is casual and fun. The waitpeople are friendly and helpful, and kids seem to be welcome. There’s live entertainment on Fridays and Saturdays, and Wednesday night is open jam night.
Writing about local issues
This piece was written for the real estate blog. Most of the items posted on that blog were more light-hearted than this one, but we felt that Tampa Bay desperately needs a light rail system. When we used a light rail system in Baltimore while we were on vacation, we were inspired to post this opinion piece on the real estate blog. It got some good reactions, including a nice thank-you from the people who run light rail in Phoenix.
Tampa Bay scores again; Forbes Magazine took a look at the 60 major metro areas in the country and then rated their rapid transit systems. Tampa Bay made the list — in last place.
That should come as only a mild surprise to anyone who has had to drive to work on either side of Tampa Bay. Traffic here is a nightmare, and there are few alternatives to driving your own car to work. We do have a bus system, but there is no rapid transit system, no subway, no passenger rail.
Many of our major roadways started life as sleepy two-lanes. US19N, the major north-south road that runs the length of Pinellas County, was once a rural two-lane road that passed through miles of orange groves, at least in the northern part of the county where I live. Someone recently told me that he remembered when there was just a flashing light at the intersection of 19 and Tampa Road, a busy major intersection today that serves six lanes of US19 and four of Tampa Road.
If you want to cross the bay between Pinellas (Where St. Petersburg is located) and Hillsborough (Tampa), you have four choices: The Gandy bridge; the Howard Franklin Bridge; the Courtney Campbell Causeway; and Hillsborough Avenue, the only land route, located at the northern tip of Tampa Bay. If you attempt this crossing in rush hour, be prepared to sit.
If you’ve read this blog before, you know I am a fan of light rail, and we might — just might — have such a system in our sights.
A month or two ago, President Obama came to town and announced that the federal government would fund the majority share of a high-speed rail line between Tampa Bay and Orlando. That’s nice, because it would eliminate the drive on I-4, a really difficult bit of Interstate between those two cities.
But the real value of such a line would be the possibility of a light rail system at this end of it. The high-speed line could connect to a light-rail system that would circumnavigate Hillsborough and Pinellas Counties and provide an alternative to the automobile.
We have something called the Tampa Bay Area Rapid Transit Authority (TBARTA), which would like to build that system. Clearwater Mayor Frank Hibbard, who serves on the TBARTA board, spoke at St. Petersburg College recently about rapid transit in Tampa Bay, and said such a system is necessary both for current residents and to respond to companies that may consider locating facilities in Tampa Bay.
All that said, I do have a bone or two to pick with Forbes about this ranking. We used to live in Washington, DC, and it would be hard to imagine a worse commuting city than that. Before we lived in Florida we lived in Maine, and that meant the occasional drive to the biggest metro center in that neck of the woods, Boston. If you’ve never driven in Boston at rush hour, it is a breathtaking experience. Still, both those cities have good subway systems and buses that run frequently.
I think it is fair to say that Palm Harbor real estate, Dunedin real estate, or Pinellas County real estate in general would be more attractive if it was served by an efficient light rail system
Feature writing: Hockey at Frog Forum
I think that the very best feature stories are simple ones. I loved this story about a homemade skating rink, and how it bonded two generations of a family. For years I thought this story had been lost, and I was delighted to find it in one of my clip files.
Frog Forum’s last hockey game
By ARTHUR FREDERICK
WATERVILLE, Maine (UPI) – Kyle Frewin welcomed the new year just as he has every year since he was a kid – playing hockey all night with the neighborhood kids on the home-made rink behind his parents’ house.
This could be the final year for the rink, named Frog Forum so many years ago that no one quite remembers why. The New Year’s hockey game that extended well into Tuesday morning could be the last.
Kyle, 21, the youngest of four Frewin sons, will graduate in the spring from Gordon College in Massachusetts. His father, Ron, lost his job months ago and wants to sell the house and move to Arizona. If that happens, there will be no more Frog Forum.
Frog Forum began humbly, a modest backyard rink banged together out of three-foot boards in 1961 by Ron, who wanted to share his love for hockey with his boys.
Over the years, the rink behind the Frewin’s house grew larger.
First, it claimed a few trees and shrubs. Then the Frewins made more room by ripping up part of the driveway. Eventually, even Louise Frewin’s clothesline was ripped down to make room for more ice.
The Frewin boys grew bigger, and so did the neighborhood kids who skated at Frog Forum. Hockey pucks flew over the boards and into the neighbors’ yards. The youngsters played past sundown, groping for the puck in the darkness.
Ron installed six-foot boards to keep the puck on the ice. He installed lights so the kids could play all night if they wanted to.
Down the street, a group of youngsters formed a hockey team called the Scummies. Ron turned on the lights, and Frewins and Scummies banged each other happily into the boards.
“We’ve had broken teeth, pucks that have split eyes and heads, injuries from when the kids got banged into the boards,” Louise Frewin said. “They all watch television, and they all have to play as rough as the Bruins.”
This year, with Kyle in school and Ron suffering from arthritis, Frog Forum almost stayed stacked up in the garage. But Kyle wanted one more New Year’s.
“Kyle begged us to put it up once more,” Louise said. ”And Ron said to me, ‘How can the neighborhood kids ever learn to play hockey if they don’t have Frog Forum?’”
The Frewins went to church New Year’s Eve and afterwards, at around midnight, Kyle and a dozen neighborhood kids laced up their skates and started to shoot the puck around the ice.
“I went to bed, but I could hear that puck banging into the boards all night long,” Louise said.
The oldest Frewin son, Donn, died in a swimming accident eight years ago. Paul is a doctor in Louisville, Ky. Wesley is an electrical engineer in Connecticut.
With everyone gone, Frog Forum seems doomed. But Louise thinks Kyle might have other plans.
NOTE: This story ends rather abruptly and I think the newspaper editors may have trimmed it to fit an available space in the page. If I ever find a complete version of it, I’ll add the missing paragraphs.
UPDATE 1/20/2015: I came across another version of this story quite by accident and, sure enough, there was one additional paragraph in the original version, which makes the story end a bit less abruptly. Here it is:
“What he wants to do is become a history teacher right here in Waterville,” she said. “And he wants us to leave him the boards when we move to Arizona.”
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