I heard sirens early this morning, an alarming thing in a tiny town like this. And then there were more, and more. I knew something was wrong.

By the time I knew what was happening, the fire had already gutted most of the building downtown. It was once the old family department store, where you could pick up candy or flip-flops or a new book or t-shirt. My grandfather and I would stop there on our rounds every day during the summer when I visited as a kid. George, the store owner and a very close family friend, was always there and ready with a treat or a kind word. Years ago when he retired it was turned into an antique shop and 10 apartments - one of which was home to a friend of Sarah’s until this morning. Luckily, and miraculously, nobody was hurt.

This morning on his way to church, George passed the building as the fire crews battled the blaze. He couldn’t even look at it. Everyone gathered at church to comfort one another, including my grandmother who was having a hard time, too. In small towns with so few buildings and so few people whose stories they’ve been party to, every one of them is a large part of the history here.

Shane, former photojournalist-turned-designer (but still very much a closet photojournalist) took the camera up to document the fire, and the last vestiges of the building. More here.

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Twenty years ago this month. One street behind me. The rose bush is still there.

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By the time we got to the rec hall she knew something was up, but she wasn’t prepared to see a fully-packed house (and for guests arriving later, a standing room only crowd) at her birthday party.

The card basket was overflowing, so were the well wishes for her move to Florida next month (and lots of tears). Some of these folks have known her since she, like I, ran around these streets at no more than three feet tall, blowing out dandelion puffs and getting grass stains on her good clothes.

Shane played paparazzi for the afternoon this time. A few more photos here.

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Quoddy Head State Park - photo credit Shane

Yesterday we spent the afternoon wandering the back roads between here and the coast, ending up in Lubec, Maine at Quoddy Head State Park — the easternmost point in the continental U.S. It was chilly, windy, gray, but cozy and comfortable and I was sorry we didn’t plan to stay overnight.

I turned the camera over to Shane for most of the afternoon while I sat and played on/with the rocks. More of both of our photos from yesterday here.

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