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Returned, unopened
Written by Telly Halkias
On this Memorial Day, I can't shake Myra Strachner and Bernie Staller from my heart.
At 10:30 p.m. on April 18, 1945, Myra, of 1510 Unionport Rd., Bronx, N.Y., settled in to write the nightly letter. Her window shades were down for a civil defense drill. This wartime restriction hid the steady drizzle from her view, but its rhythmic patter guided her pen.
Completing the note, Myra sealed it into an envelope, then scripted the recipient's address: "Private Bernard Staller, Company B, 255th Infantry Regiment, European Theater of Operations."
The next morning, under a springtime sun, Myra walked to the nearest post office and dispatched her intimacy halfway around a perilous world.
In love since the early days of the war at age 15, nearly 700 letters had passed between her and Bernie, many while they were city neighbors. In Feb. 1944, when drafted, he left college at CCNY. Myra remained at NYU, and the correspondence intensified. On that April day, Bernie had been missing in action for almost a month.
In the fall of 2006, with mid-term elections approaching, Myra's drizzle pelted me as I walked along Massachusetts Ave. in our nation's capital. The Iraq war was faltering, Americans were restless, and military coffins arrived stateside daily.
One of the casualties included my college roommate, Dominic, who died in Iraq 10 years ago this week.
Visiting Washington, D.C. for the first time in years, the air was charged with negative electricity. Off of work that morning, I set out for our seat of government to forsake the campaign's malice in search of my own answers. Also, on my way to Congress, I tried to beat the raindrops.
Failing at the latter, I ducked into the National Postal Museum, and drip-dried in its lobby. Waiting out the showers, I entered a dimly lit exhibit hall named "War Letters: Lost and Found," and sought a nearby bench. Leaning against the cool marble wall, my gaze fell onto the closest showcase.
There, Myra's letter found its way home.
"Darling — I was at your house tonight. They showed me some pictures of you ... That hair is cropped close, but still it curled around my finger as if it were grasping it. I've kissed those lips. Those legs were pressed against mine. I've held those wrists with my fingers. My hands have been in those hands. My fingers have touched those sides and both touched lightly and dug into those shoulders. My lips have kissed that throat. And I knew you had to be alive, because you're so alive! Do you know what I mean? Someday when we have long night hours before us, I'll tell you all about this — how I felt, and what people said ... Until then, love, your Myra."
Neatly displayed next to her letter was the envelope. Huddled to the left of Myra's handwriting, an official stamp heralded the unthinkable: "Deceased 4/28: Returned Unopened."
At another time in my life, I might have dismissed this curating as thinly veiled romanticizing. After all, my own time as a young soldier didn't register much introspection when quick action was the order of the day.
But as a civilian, the exhibit also made me consider those outside the battlefield who are scoured in the cauldron of war. The blunt verdict to Myra's appeal punctuated a centuries-old reality, urging me to finish that day's journey. Bernie's and Dominic's weathered headstones, along with a million others facing homeward, silently concurred.
Later, my research showed that Myra went on to have a family of her own as Myra Strachner Gershkoff, and died in 1997 at age 71. Bernie had been killed in an artillery barrage just two months before the war in Europe ended, and remained forever a teenager, left to the ages.
As Lynn Heidelbaugh, the exhibition's curator, wrote to me recently: "Strachner's words of love and longing are heartbreaking when you learn her sweetheart had died before ever seeing them. Letters have the power to connect people in tangible and personal ways that can carry into history."
Indeed. And the history of human conflict has a way of dismantling innocence forever.
Back at the museum, and feeling disturbingly voyeuristic, I left the two young lovers to the long night hours before them.
The rain quickly passed during this reprieve. I ventured out into the September morning, Myra's hopeful sunshine beckoning. Capitol Hill loomed ahead, and I resumed my cynical advance unfazed.
Behind me, however, Thanksgiving had come early. Not even the foreign mud in which a 19-year-old GI fell could sully his lover's faith. And their lost letter, once returned unopened, was delivered to me after 61 years, just when I needed it most.
(Telly Halkias is an award-winning freelance journalist from Portland's West End. You may contact him at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or follow him on Twitter at @TellyHalkias.)
At 10:30 p.m. on April 18, 1945, Myra, of 1510 Unionport Rd., Bronx, N.Y., settled in to write the nightly letter. Her window shades were down for a civil defense drill. This wartime restriction hid the steady drizzle from her view, but its rhythmic patter guided her pen.

Completing the note, Myra sealed it into an envelope, then scripted the recipient's address: "Private Bernard Staller, Company B, 255th Infantry Regiment, European Theater of Operations."
The next morning, under a springtime sun, Myra walked to the nearest post office and dispatched her intimacy halfway around a perilous world.
In love since the early days of the war at age 15, nearly 700 letters had passed between her and Bernie, many while they were city neighbors. In Feb. 1944, when drafted, he left college at CCNY. Myra remained at NYU, and the correspondence intensified. On that April day, Bernie had been missing in action for almost a month.
In the fall of 2006, with mid-term elections approaching, Myra's drizzle pelted me as I walked along Massachusetts Ave. in our nation's capital. The Iraq war was faltering, Americans were restless, and military coffins arrived stateside daily.
One of the casualties included my college roommate, Dominic, who died in Iraq 10 years ago this week.
Visiting Washington, D.C. for the first time in years, the air was charged with negative electricity. Off of work that morning, I set out for our seat of government to forsake the campaign's malice in search of my own answers. Also, on my way to Congress, I tried to beat the raindrops.
Failing at the latter, I ducked into the National Postal Museum, and drip-dried in its lobby. Waiting out the showers, I entered a dimly lit exhibit hall named "War Letters: Lost and Found," and sought a nearby bench. Leaning against the cool marble wall, my gaze fell onto the closest showcase.
There, Myra's letter found its way home.
"Darling — I was at your house tonight. They showed me some pictures of you ... That hair is cropped close, but still it curled around my finger as if it were grasping it. I've kissed those lips. Those legs were pressed against mine. I've held those wrists with my fingers. My hands have been in those hands. My fingers have touched those sides and both touched lightly and dug into those shoulders. My lips have kissed that throat. And I knew you had to be alive, because you're so alive! Do you know what I mean? Someday when we have long night hours before us, I'll tell you all about this — how I felt, and what people said ... Until then, love, your Myra."
Neatly displayed next to her letter was the envelope. Huddled to the left of Myra's handwriting, an official stamp heralded the unthinkable: "Deceased 4/28: Returned Unopened."
At another time in my life, I might have dismissed this curating as thinly veiled romanticizing. After all, my own time as a young soldier didn't register much introspection when quick action was the order of the day.
But as a civilian, the exhibit also made me consider those outside the battlefield who are scoured in the cauldron of war. The blunt verdict to Myra's appeal punctuated a centuries-old reality, urging me to finish that day's journey. Bernie's and Dominic's weathered headstones, along with a million others facing homeward, silently concurred.
Later, my research showed that Myra went on to have a family of her own as Myra Strachner Gershkoff, and died in 1997 at age 71. Bernie had been killed in an artillery barrage just two months before the war in Europe ended, and remained forever a teenager, left to the ages.
As Lynn Heidelbaugh, the exhibition's curator, wrote to me recently: "Strachner's words of love and longing are heartbreaking when you learn her sweetheart had died before ever seeing them. Letters have the power to connect people in tangible and personal ways that can carry into history."
Indeed. And the history of human conflict has a way of dismantling innocence forever.
Back at the museum, and feeling disturbingly voyeuristic, I left the two young lovers to the long night hours before them.
The rain quickly passed during this reprieve. I ventured out into the September morning, Myra's hopeful sunshine beckoning. Capitol Hill loomed ahead, and I resumed my cynical advance unfazed.
Behind me, however, Thanksgiving had come early. Not even the foreign mud in which a 19-year-old GI fell could sully his lover's faith. And their lost letter, once returned unopened, was delivered to me after 61 years, just when I needed it most.
(Telly Halkias is an award-winning freelance journalist from Portland's West End. You may contact him at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or follow him on Twitter at @TellyHalkias.)
Last Updated on Thursday, 23 May 2013 22:36
Hits: 490
Loose change and other ideas
Written by Bob Higgins
Being stuck in a rut, I headed to one of the numerous city meetings last week. I'm not busy until hosting duties require my presence at the annual "Dudefest" at One Longfellow on the 31st. (Hint, Hint, Wink, Nudge, Nudge.) Always good for a story, you never know what is going to happen at one of the oddball committee meetings, particularly the ones held in the basement of City Hall.
This one was the neighborhood organizations meeting. From time to time, all the varied neighborhood orgs meet for a task force kind of thing with the at-large council members, to share concerns and ideas.
Every neighborhood had folks there: East End, WENA, Bayside, East Bayside, Parkside, Deering ... all sharing their suggestions with Council members Jill Duson and Nick Mavodones.
Sounds like a snoozer, but it sort of resembled the famed 1957 "Apalachin Meeting" in Upstate New York, where members of the varied (alleged) Mafia families met to divvy up Gaul. Every neighborhood has its own issues, and only a few of them overlap.
Problems were discussed and prioritized, everyone present voting from a list or adding to the one posted on the wall. Top of the heap was the usual issue, of homelessness and panhandling.
Rather than try the same old ideas, maybe it's time for Portland to consider some of the new stuff batted around at that meeting. One neighborhood rep vented his frustration at the panhandling situation, particularly those that wander into traffic. "One of these days, someone is going to get killed."
He threw out an idea for Portland that was a bit of a stumper for the uninitiated. Like others, he was tired of getting braced on Congress St. (which council members have refused my idea of renaming "Shakedown Street") for loose change and folding green he knows is going to be used for smokes and alcohol.
The idea was prompted by his experience in New Haven. A local "scrip" currency that you buy, that can be used at any number of local retailers (like Hannaford) that CANNOT be used for cigarettes or alcohol.
Donating on the street, free from guilt. That would be a new one for Portland.
There was talk of a crackdown on urban campers, those who won't stay at the shelter system but rather would live on the outskirts in the woods. It can be dangerous, but those seeking shelter from the shelter system still find it a better alternative. I still think Portland has to completely rethink the idea of what it considers affordable housing. As the rest of the state falters, the numbers of folks headed to the service center (Portland) continue to rise.
There was talk of revisiting Portland's overly complex and constantly tweaked zoning. Tying that issue to the homelessness stuff, there were comments made at the meeting that show one of the major issues. Bayside and East Bayside are getting pretty irritable about every "project" being located within the neighborhood. The load has to be shared.
At one point, the mention of a "map of services" from half-way houses to shelters to pre-release centers to sober houses was mentioned. There was such a map that is "currently being updated," since the original dates to somewhere in the late 1990s. IF it ever does get updated and distributed, the results may stun Portland ... hence the delay.
Another mention at the meeting was a bit of a shocker, a story that seemingly everyone in the local press (self-included) seemed to miss. There was apparently an issue with the growing of medical marijuana in multi-unit apartment building on the West End. The folks that had the card had set up a grow operation in the basement, much to the landlord's and other tenants' dismay. Replies of concern from tenants, the landlord, and the Portland PD were allegedly met with an invitation to get bent. Expect a sharp and severe response on this one in the coming months.
Dog poop, cigarette butts in the streets and sidewalks, trashed buildings and trashed streets all had their respective moments of glory. "A little enforcement goes a long way" was the rallying cry ... until I pointed out that this paper had not yet seen a single report of a person getting a citation for the new smoking ordinance.
Yeah, sometimes I can be mean. Who knew?
SIDE NOTE: While we are considering statements by state officials that promised funds to rebuild Portland's elementary schools "will be coming in the next few years," I remind the readers that this state doesn't even have a budget yet, and the future looks dim.
(Bob Higgins is a regular contributor to The Portland Daily Sun. Email him at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .)
This one was the neighborhood organizations meeting. From time to time, all the varied neighborhood orgs meet for a task force kind of thing with the at-large council members, to share concerns and ideas.
Every neighborhood had folks there: East End, WENA, Bayside, East Bayside, Parkside, Deering ... all sharing their suggestions with Council members Jill Duson and Nick Mavodones.
Sounds like a snoozer, but it sort of resembled the famed 1957 "Apalachin Meeting" in Upstate New York, where members of the varied (alleged) Mafia families met to divvy up Gaul. Every neighborhood has its own issues, and only a few of them overlap.
Problems were discussed and prioritized, everyone present voting from a list or adding to the one posted on the wall. Top of the heap was the usual issue, of homelessness and panhandling.
Rather than try the same old ideas, maybe it's time for Portland to consider some of the new stuff batted around at that meeting. One neighborhood rep vented his frustration at the panhandling situation, particularly those that wander into traffic. "One of these days, someone is going to get killed."
He threw out an idea for Portland that was a bit of a stumper for the uninitiated. Like others, he was tired of getting braced on Congress St. (which council members have refused my idea of renaming "Shakedown Street") for loose change and folding green he knows is going to be used for smokes and alcohol.
The idea was prompted by his experience in New Haven. A local "scrip" currency that you buy, that can be used at any number of local retailers (like Hannaford) that CANNOT be used for cigarettes or alcohol.
Donating on the street, free from guilt. That would be a new one for Portland.
There was talk of a crackdown on urban campers, those who won't stay at the shelter system but rather would live on the outskirts in the woods. It can be dangerous, but those seeking shelter from the shelter system still find it a better alternative. I still think Portland has to completely rethink the idea of what it considers affordable housing. As the rest of the state falters, the numbers of folks headed to the service center (Portland) continue to rise.
There was talk of revisiting Portland's overly complex and constantly tweaked zoning. Tying that issue to the homelessness stuff, there were comments made at the meeting that show one of the major issues. Bayside and East Bayside are getting pretty irritable about every "project" being located within the neighborhood. The load has to be shared.
At one point, the mention of a "map of services" from half-way houses to shelters to pre-release centers to sober houses was mentioned. There was such a map that is "currently being updated," since the original dates to somewhere in the late 1990s. IF it ever does get updated and distributed, the results may stun Portland ... hence the delay.
Another mention at the meeting was a bit of a shocker, a story that seemingly everyone in the local press (self-included) seemed to miss. There was apparently an issue with the growing of medical marijuana in multi-unit apartment building on the West End. The folks that had the card had set up a grow operation in the basement, much to the landlord's and other tenants' dismay. Replies of concern from tenants, the landlord, and the Portland PD were allegedly met with an invitation to get bent. Expect a sharp and severe response on this one in the coming months.
Dog poop, cigarette butts in the streets and sidewalks, trashed buildings and trashed streets all had their respective moments of glory. "A little enforcement goes a long way" was the rallying cry ... until I pointed out that this paper had not yet seen a single report of a person getting a citation for the new smoking ordinance.
Yeah, sometimes I can be mean. Who knew?
SIDE NOTE: While we are considering statements by state officials that promised funds to rebuild Portland's elementary schools "will be coming in the next few years," I remind the readers that this state doesn't even have a budget yet, and the future looks dim.
(Bob Higgins is a regular contributor to The Portland Daily Sun. Email him at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .)
Last Updated on Thursday, 23 May 2013 21:26
Hits: 102
A research institute to make Maine proud
Written by Karen Vachon
Nestled in a quiet winding road behind the hustle and bustle of Maine Medical Center's Scarborough campus is the Research Institute of Maine Medical Center. It's easy to miss. It's tucked away. But for Maine, and its people, the medical profession, the community and its economy, it's a real gem. It's where I met Dr. Donald St. Germain, Vice President for Research at Maine Medical Center, and director of the Research Institute.
"What goes on here?" I asked, impressed with the modern facility, built in 2000, and added onto in 2008. This biomedical research facility employs 200 people and is growing. Biomedical research is an area of science that looks for ways to treat and prevent diseases that cause illness and death to people and animals. Incorporating both life and physical sciences, biomedical researchers study biological processes and diseases to better treat patients and ultimately cure diseases.
Biomedical research is conducted in all 50 states, with many of the major centers being affiliated with major hospitals and medical schools. Each one explains St. Germain, has "a bit of a different flavor, depending on the different types of research that they do; [the] different scientists they hire; which depends on the types of funding. One might wonder how Maine is able to compete for funding against the major metropolitan cities with large hospitals and medical schools.
"To be in research, you must be an entrepreneur," says St. Germain, who explains that research, on its own, isn't sustainable. "It's about keeping your nose to opportunities, sourcing funding, while also allowing your curiosities and interests drive your research." The money is sourced a variety of ways: the federal government, foundations, medical centers, philanthropist, past patients and their families, contribute to research at various levels; the bulk, coming from the federal government.
"Maine Medical Center is very dedicated to doing research, academics, and teaching," says St. Germain, who explained the four-step approach of biomedical research at Maine Medical Center. The Research Institute facility in Scarborough is where the first step takes place: laboratory based study of biological processes and systems — there are multiple laboratories on site, with scientists and doctors from various disciplines. In the second step, the research findings are applied to solve medical problems by developing and testing clinical applications around their discoveries. The third step involves clinical applications that test the effectiveness and patient safety. And in the fourth step, outcomes are monitored to check the effectiveness in the real world. In short – it goes from laboratory, to hospital/clinic, to community — through this entire cycle, the Research Institute is involved in all four steps. This process helps bridge the gap and move things through the research pipeline.
Indeed, people invest in different research facilities for different reasons. For St. Germain, it was a quality of life move that landed him here in 2009, from Dartmouth Medical Center in Lebanon N.H. He chose Portland for the cosmopolitan feel. He became engaged in the challenges of Maine — a large rural state, with an aging population; finding good paying jobs, and retaining its young population are among its greatest challenges. Its beauty and quality of life are its assets. The goal: to provide top quality care, so that Mainer's don't need to leave the state to receive care.
St. Germain has had success. While it's true that Maine doesn't have an independent allopathic medical school; the University of New England has an osteopathic medical school and also does some biomedical research. Many of their students are doing rotations and are involved in blocks of learning in the medical center. Maine Medical Center has a formal allopathic medical program with Tufts University; they've admitted 35 Tuft students, and have taken charge of their education. The institute uses the Tufts teaching programs the first two years; and the third and fourth year, they're teaching their own program. Their focus is to highlight the rural physician experience. Students are spending time in all parts of rural Maine working with family physicians and surgeons. The ultimate goal being to take Maine's best students, educate them, and have them pursue professional careers right here in Maine.
It's working. Other professionals from away have gotten turned onto Maine. St.Germain sites a recent example: Dr. Tracey Weigel, one of the most foremost esophagus surgeons in the country recently moved to Maine. Attracted by the lifestyle, a very important element was that she needed to be able to continue her research. Because of the Research Institute in Scarborough, moving to Maine was an easy decision for her.
"Research really helps attract outstanding physicians who are able to bring unique programs and treatments and new offerings to our patients here in Maine," said St. Germain
St. Germain hopes that education, and engagement in the community not only builds visibility to the Research Institute, but spawns curiosity, funding, and is appreciated. "It seems obvious, [that] medical research develops new treatments, develops new diagnostic tools, develops new ways to perform care, [with] new systems of care; it has very direct benefits that help patients of the state of Maine in very tangible areas."
It should spawn curiosity; that not only has the doctor or nurse asking, but the patient asking too: Is this the best way? What's the cause of what's happening here? Is there a more efficient way?
"Research provides answers to your questions," says St. Germain, noting that the Research Institute is a small institute, that can't do everything; they're focusing on the health issues that concern Maine people: Cancer, Cardiovascular disease, and Metabolic disease. They're also training and developing Maine's youth to have meaningful and prosperous careers here in Maine — good for Maine's health and economy all around.
The Research Institute has regular open houses, does high school, graduate school educational programs, and summer research programs. To learn more or to make a donation visit: www.mmc.org/waystogive or call 662-2669.
Dr. Donald St. Germain will be speaking at Scarborough Community Chamber's Annual luncheon being held at the Black Point Inn, in Scarborough on June 6 from noon to 2 p.m. For more information contact the Portland Regional Chamber: 772-2811.
(Karen Vachon is a Scarborough resident. She is a licensed health and life insurance agent and active community volunteer. To follow her on Facebook, go to: http://www.facebook.com/karenvachonhealth.)

"What goes on here?" I asked, impressed with the modern facility, built in 2000, and added onto in 2008. This biomedical research facility employs 200 people and is growing. Biomedical research is an area of science that looks for ways to treat and prevent diseases that cause illness and death to people and animals. Incorporating both life and physical sciences, biomedical researchers study biological processes and diseases to better treat patients and ultimately cure diseases.
Biomedical research is conducted in all 50 states, with many of the major centers being affiliated with major hospitals and medical schools. Each one explains St. Germain, has "a bit of a different flavor, depending on the different types of research that they do; [the] different scientists they hire; which depends on the types of funding. One might wonder how Maine is able to compete for funding against the major metropolitan cities with large hospitals and medical schools.
"To be in research, you must be an entrepreneur," says St. Germain, who explains that research, on its own, isn't sustainable. "It's about keeping your nose to opportunities, sourcing funding, while also allowing your curiosities and interests drive your research." The money is sourced a variety of ways: the federal government, foundations, medical centers, philanthropist, past patients and their families, contribute to research at various levels; the bulk, coming from the federal government.
"Maine Medical Center is very dedicated to doing research, academics, and teaching," says St. Germain, who explained the four-step approach of biomedical research at Maine Medical Center. The Research Institute facility in Scarborough is where the first step takes place: laboratory based study of biological processes and systems — there are multiple laboratories on site, with scientists and doctors from various disciplines. In the second step, the research findings are applied to solve medical problems by developing and testing clinical applications around their discoveries. The third step involves clinical applications that test the effectiveness and patient safety. And in the fourth step, outcomes are monitored to check the effectiveness in the real world. In short – it goes from laboratory, to hospital/clinic, to community — through this entire cycle, the Research Institute is involved in all four steps. This process helps bridge the gap and move things through the research pipeline.
Indeed, people invest in different research facilities for different reasons. For St. Germain, it was a quality of life move that landed him here in 2009, from Dartmouth Medical Center in Lebanon N.H. He chose Portland for the cosmopolitan feel. He became engaged in the challenges of Maine — a large rural state, with an aging population; finding good paying jobs, and retaining its young population are among its greatest challenges. Its beauty and quality of life are its assets. The goal: to provide top quality care, so that Mainer's don't need to leave the state to receive care.
St. Germain has had success. While it's true that Maine doesn't have an independent allopathic medical school; the University of New England has an osteopathic medical school and also does some biomedical research. Many of their students are doing rotations and are involved in blocks of learning in the medical center. Maine Medical Center has a formal allopathic medical program with Tufts University; they've admitted 35 Tuft students, and have taken charge of their education. The institute uses the Tufts teaching programs the first two years; and the third and fourth year, they're teaching their own program. Their focus is to highlight the rural physician experience. Students are spending time in all parts of rural Maine working with family physicians and surgeons. The ultimate goal being to take Maine's best students, educate them, and have them pursue professional careers right here in Maine.
It's working. Other professionals from away have gotten turned onto Maine. St.Germain sites a recent example: Dr. Tracey Weigel, one of the most foremost esophagus surgeons in the country recently moved to Maine. Attracted by the lifestyle, a very important element was that she needed to be able to continue her research. Because of the Research Institute in Scarborough, moving to Maine was an easy decision for her.
"Research really helps attract outstanding physicians who are able to bring unique programs and treatments and new offerings to our patients here in Maine," said St. Germain
St. Germain hopes that education, and engagement in the community not only builds visibility to the Research Institute, but spawns curiosity, funding, and is appreciated. "It seems obvious, [that] medical research develops new treatments, develops new diagnostic tools, develops new ways to perform care, [with] new systems of care; it has very direct benefits that help patients of the state of Maine in very tangible areas."
It should spawn curiosity; that not only has the doctor or nurse asking, but the patient asking too: Is this the best way? What's the cause of what's happening here? Is there a more efficient way?
"Research provides answers to your questions," says St. Germain, noting that the Research Institute is a small institute, that can't do everything; they're focusing on the health issues that concern Maine people: Cancer, Cardiovascular disease, and Metabolic disease. They're also training and developing Maine's youth to have meaningful and prosperous careers here in Maine — good for Maine's health and economy all around.
The Research Institute has regular open houses, does high school, graduate school educational programs, and summer research programs. To learn more or to make a donation visit: www.mmc.org/waystogive or call 662-2669.
Dr. Donald St. Germain will be speaking at Scarborough Community Chamber's Annual luncheon being held at the Black Point Inn, in Scarborough on June 6 from noon to 2 p.m. For more information contact the Portland Regional Chamber: 772-2811.
(Karen Vachon is a Scarborough resident. She is a licensed health and life insurance agent and active community volunteer. To follow her on Facebook, go to: http://www.facebook.com/karenvachonhealth.)
Last Updated on Thursday, 23 May 2013 00:51
Hits: 456
Flowers
Written by Cliff Gallant
Read somewhere once that Portland lies within a thin climatic belt circling the earth wherein the four seasons occur most distinctly. We can generally count on a cold winter, warm spring, hot summer, and cool fall. 
Heraclitus, the Greek philosopher best known for saying that one can't step into the same river twice, observed that change is the only constant in nature and in our lives and that we should we look forward to the change of seasons as a great opportunity for rebirth and renewal. Myself, I'm just happy that winter's over.
Ah-h-h ... spring! Walking down Congress Street one day last week when out of nowhere the air filled with swirling bits of white. Looked like a snow squall, but turned out to be blossoms blown off trees by a gentle breeze. Amidst the traffic and congestion and grand affairs of the day. Got me thinking about green and growing and suddenly new growth seemed to be what the world is all about.
Truthfully, I hardly know one flower from another and generally walk by without giving them much notice, but when I started looking around for them I realized that the whole city is abloom. Some variety of flower has been planted in every little bit of available space throughout the neighborhoods. One gets the impression that people have been waiting all winter to get out there and get their hands dirty, odd creatures that we are.
Any discussion of flowers in Portland has to include the Rose Circle in Deering Oaks. It's one of the great attractions of the city and not to be missed, being internationally known for the number, variety and quality of roses it contains. Its full name is the Karl Switzer Rose Circle, Karl Switzer having been the Portland Parks superintendent from 1937 to 1973, and known for his great love of flowers, especially roses.
There are thirty-eight varieties of roses and a total of six-hundred rose plants in the Rose Circle, and they are conscientiously attended to, for sure. The park horticulturalists follow a month-by-month horticultural maintenance plan and their work is inspected by the Maine Rose Society, which assigns a letter grade to the quality of care. Evidently the horticultural staff gets honors grades because they are the regular recipients of Certificates of Excellence from the American Rose Society.
The Rose Circle is one of one-hundred and thirty-four public rose gardens in the United States that the American Rose Society uses to showcase its "All American Rose Selections". Each year three plants each of three new varieties of roses are displayed at the Rose Circle, enabling locals to view three varieties of brand new, not-yet-on-the-market, roses. Very cool.
The three new varieties, totaling nine plants, are contained in two appropriately marked special sections, so you can easily locate them. Just don't pick any roses, from those sections or from anywhere else in the Rose Circle. Pilfering is a huge problem. Evidently some people seem to think that because the Rose Circle is public they can pick the roses. No, no. "Public" means they're there for everyone.
There's also a Deering Oaks connection to the pink tulips you see all over town. The Pink Tulip Project, a program of the Maine Cancer Foundation to raise funds to combat women's breast cancer, was founded in the spring of 2006 by Robin Whitten, a breast cancer survivor and a member of Friends of Deering Oaks, an organization whose mission it is to preserve and protect the park. Robin conceived of the project in 2005 while attending the dedication ceremonies of the restored Castle in the Park, the intriguing small brick building by the pond. Last year the project raised over $120,000 in Maine and is gaining momentum as a national movement. If you'd like to help out, google The Pink Tulip Project and find out how you can buy some bulbs for planting this fall. The money couldn't be going towards a better cause, and you can look forward to those sprightly pink tulips that will be coming up next spring.
Since I opened my eyes to it all, in the last few days, more or less, I've discovered, what do you know, that tulips come in an endless variety of colors. There's red and yellow ones around the new memorial to the city's fallen firefighters at Central Fire Station, and the Loring family has planted a wonderful bed of pink, white, and, to my surprise, black tulips, around the memorial to Major Charles Loring up on the Eastern Prom. Black tulips. I never knew they existed. There's even striped tulips. Spotted some red and white ones out in front of a house on the Eastern Prom.
Then, of course, there's lilacs. Even I know that there's lavender and white ones and that lilac bushes can grow to a very old age. There's an interesting story about the lilac bush in the garden behind the Longfellow house, actually.
The Longfellow Garden Club, which was founded in 1924 by a woman with the fetching name of Pearl Wing, has kept the garden to the rear of the Longfellow house in much the way the three generations of the Longfellow family who lived in the house kept it. When the Maine Historical Society Library next to the garden was renovated in 2007 a lilac bush dating to the time when the Longfellow family lived in the house was uprooted from the garden to facilitate the renovation and was cared for by O'Donal's Nursery Center. With the completion of the restoration project the lilac bush was returned to the garden, many of the other flowers that the Longfellow family had in the garden were replicated, and today the garden looks remarkably similar to the way it did when the Longfellow family tended it.
Flowers. Then as now.
(Cliff Gallant of Portland is a regular columnist for The Portland Daily Sun. Email him at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .)

Heraclitus, the Greek philosopher best known for saying that one can't step into the same river twice, observed that change is the only constant in nature and in our lives and that we should we look forward to the change of seasons as a great opportunity for rebirth and renewal. Myself, I'm just happy that winter's over.
Ah-h-h ... spring! Walking down Congress Street one day last week when out of nowhere the air filled with swirling bits of white. Looked like a snow squall, but turned out to be blossoms blown off trees by a gentle breeze. Amidst the traffic and congestion and grand affairs of the day. Got me thinking about green and growing and suddenly new growth seemed to be what the world is all about.
Truthfully, I hardly know one flower from another and generally walk by without giving them much notice, but when I started looking around for them I realized that the whole city is abloom. Some variety of flower has been planted in every little bit of available space throughout the neighborhoods. One gets the impression that people have been waiting all winter to get out there and get their hands dirty, odd creatures that we are.
Any discussion of flowers in Portland has to include the Rose Circle in Deering Oaks. It's one of the great attractions of the city and not to be missed, being internationally known for the number, variety and quality of roses it contains. Its full name is the Karl Switzer Rose Circle, Karl Switzer having been the Portland Parks superintendent from 1937 to 1973, and known for his great love of flowers, especially roses.
There are thirty-eight varieties of roses and a total of six-hundred rose plants in the Rose Circle, and they are conscientiously attended to, for sure. The park horticulturalists follow a month-by-month horticultural maintenance plan and their work is inspected by the Maine Rose Society, which assigns a letter grade to the quality of care. Evidently the horticultural staff gets honors grades because they are the regular recipients of Certificates of Excellence from the American Rose Society.
The Rose Circle is one of one-hundred and thirty-four public rose gardens in the United States that the American Rose Society uses to showcase its "All American Rose Selections". Each year three plants each of three new varieties of roses are displayed at the Rose Circle, enabling locals to view three varieties of brand new, not-yet-on-the-market, roses. Very cool.
The three new varieties, totaling nine plants, are contained in two appropriately marked special sections, so you can easily locate them. Just don't pick any roses, from those sections or from anywhere else in the Rose Circle. Pilfering is a huge problem. Evidently some people seem to think that because the Rose Circle is public they can pick the roses. No, no. "Public" means they're there for everyone.
There's also a Deering Oaks connection to the pink tulips you see all over town. The Pink Tulip Project, a program of the Maine Cancer Foundation to raise funds to combat women's breast cancer, was founded in the spring of 2006 by Robin Whitten, a breast cancer survivor and a member of Friends of Deering Oaks, an organization whose mission it is to preserve and protect the park. Robin conceived of the project in 2005 while attending the dedication ceremonies of the restored Castle in the Park, the intriguing small brick building by the pond. Last year the project raised over $120,000 in Maine and is gaining momentum as a national movement. If you'd like to help out, google The Pink Tulip Project and find out how you can buy some bulbs for planting this fall. The money couldn't be going towards a better cause, and you can look forward to those sprightly pink tulips that will be coming up next spring.
Since I opened my eyes to it all, in the last few days, more or less, I've discovered, what do you know, that tulips come in an endless variety of colors. There's red and yellow ones around the new memorial to the city's fallen firefighters at Central Fire Station, and the Loring family has planted a wonderful bed of pink, white, and, to my surprise, black tulips, around the memorial to Major Charles Loring up on the Eastern Prom. Black tulips. I never knew they existed. There's even striped tulips. Spotted some red and white ones out in front of a house on the Eastern Prom.
Then, of course, there's lilacs. Even I know that there's lavender and white ones and that lilac bushes can grow to a very old age. There's an interesting story about the lilac bush in the garden behind the Longfellow house, actually.
The Longfellow Garden Club, which was founded in 1924 by a woman with the fetching name of Pearl Wing, has kept the garden to the rear of the Longfellow house in much the way the three generations of the Longfellow family who lived in the house kept it. When the Maine Historical Society Library next to the garden was renovated in 2007 a lilac bush dating to the time when the Longfellow family lived in the house was uprooted from the garden to facilitate the renovation and was cared for by O'Donal's Nursery Center. With the completion of the restoration project the lilac bush was returned to the garden, many of the other flowers that the Longfellow family had in the garden were replicated, and today the garden looks remarkably similar to the way it did when the Longfellow family tended it.
Flowers. Then as now.
(Cliff Gallant of Portland is a regular columnist for The Portland Daily Sun. Email him at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .)
Last Updated on Thursday, 23 May 2013 22:37
Hits: 48
Say what?!
Written by Natalie Ladd
They're repainting the decks and wiping off the shelves at the seasonal shanties in OOB — summer menus and wine lists are under construction, and food and liquor pars are being fine tuned. I-9's are being filled out and the mandatory two forms of identification, along with the bogus references, are being checked. By this time, tight T-shirts imprinted with eye-catching logos have been ordered and currently existing schedules are being beefed up. All along the coast hospitality training is going on and in a few short weeks the Memorial Day kick off of summer will be upon us. Many people who are "From Away" have camps and summer homes and are the first to arrive. They are quickly followed by day trippers and vacationers who will spend lots of money in hotels, bars and restaurants all across Vacationland.
Those of us who work in a restaurant or bar year round look forward to the increase in cash flow, but the Masshole-like attitudes (and other obvious indicators of sheer entitlement) of some seasonal guests takes its toll on our patience and sanity. We would be well served by a weekly supply of a mild sedative inserted with our paychecks, or a guided meditation distributed by the Maine Restaurant Association, to help us deal with some of the crazy stuff that comes our way. More than any other time of year, we bite our tongues when outlandish requests are made or typically snide comments are boldly stated.
Since restaurant owners are unlikely to share their Vicodin with hourly employees (most management people have their own prescriptions and are even less likely to share), my Restaurant Creative Consulting Team has come up with great way to fend off the stress and displays of audacity that accompany summer folks. We have made a growing list of things we wish we could say, but can't and/or won't because, well, we need our jobs.
Here are the first 10 things we wish we could say and as the summer progresses, we'll be adding to the list. Naturally, input from others in the industry is always welcome and aliases are not only expected, but recommended.
1) "How many pints of Mountain Dew refills are you going to let your 12-year old drink?" Not only am I super busy, but the kid is climbing the walls and you waving me down like I'm a taxi cab is really obnoxious.
2) "No. The two of you can't sit at the table for four by the window, so just sit where the hostess puts you, and stop giving me dirty looks." Regular customers usually know and respect the seating drill and will request a specific table via reservation, if possible.
3) "Yes. You do have to pay extra for substitutions of items that cost more than those offered with your entree. It says so right on the menu, so why are you even asking me?" That is a standard offense of the earliest snow birds returning from Florida or Arizona and the same people ask for the same substitutions (and get the same answer) year after year.
4) "No, we won't turn the fans or air conditioning on, off, up or down." No one told you to wear that skimpy, age-inappropriate tank top with your pull-'em-in and push-'em up Vicky's Secret bra showing along with your impossible-to-miss muffin top.
5) "No, you cannot order off the lunch menu at dinner time." Most of the menu items are the same so let's face it, you're just being cheap. If you weren't, you'd order what you want without making a stink and take half of it home.
6) "I can't believe you ate that entire, gigantic potion of food! Most people don't even make a dent." That is the opposite of number five, but these are the same people who complain how fat they are, how they refuse to wear a bathing suit and then order dessert. Call us judgmental, but it bugs us.
7) "I don't care if you're driving or not. You're hammered and are making an ass of yourself." No one cares about your golf game, your new girlfriend, what you did in Vegas (of which we all wish would stay there) or what your stock broker said. Shut up.
8) "No, the chef can't come out so you can act like a big shot and tell her how great your meal was." Look around you! We're slammed and while your kind words would be appreciated, I've already waited too long for the food to come up for table sitting right next to you. The last thing they want is to see the chef out here chit chatting. Besides, there's a reason most kitchen people like to stay in the kitchen, and, FYI, they're just as happy with any cash tip that might come their way.
9) "You've already paid your bill and asked for your desserts to go ... so GO!" I know! I know! That is a dead horse of an issue. But you have no idea how many times we have all wanted to say that very thing to inconsiderate campers who are at our tables, instead of at Sebago Point campground sitting around their little fire pit.
10) "Stop being so condescending and snooty. We're all children of the universe here, so quit talking to me like I'm an imbecile." Perhaps it comes with the territory of being "From Away" and beyond, but it takes thick skin to wait on rude guests night after night. Granted, most people are working to keep the collective consciousness high by at least pretending to be patient, but I have seen many a new hostess reduced to tears by a thick Jersey accent.
Like most lists, this one goes on and on. As I have been known to say when I complain about the job, this is just part of the charm that comes with sore feet and late nights and not to mention fat cash.
The Down Low: Last week I promised gossip about soccer moms and suburbanites but have been temporarily censored for a greater good. Don't despair, sadly these stories are far too common and I'm sure I'll have a doozie soon. Hiring Hint: If you're looking for a summer restaurant job, now is the time to drop off your resume, even if the place isn't hiring or has already filled open positions. Many newly hired employees don't show up or don't work out, so be ready wrap the apron and run if a last minute call comes your way. In this situation, it'll be first come, first serve.
(Natalie Ladd is a columnist for the Portland Daily Sun. She has over 30 continuous years of corporate and fine-dining experience in all front-of-the-house management, hourly and under-the-table positions. She can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .)

Those of us who work in a restaurant or bar year round look forward to the increase in cash flow, but the Masshole-like attitudes (and other obvious indicators of sheer entitlement) of some seasonal guests takes its toll on our patience and sanity. We would be well served by a weekly supply of a mild sedative inserted with our paychecks, or a guided meditation distributed by the Maine Restaurant Association, to help us deal with some of the crazy stuff that comes our way. More than any other time of year, we bite our tongues when outlandish requests are made or typically snide comments are boldly stated.
Since restaurant owners are unlikely to share their Vicodin with hourly employees (most management people have their own prescriptions and are even less likely to share), my Restaurant Creative Consulting Team has come up with great way to fend off the stress and displays of audacity that accompany summer folks. We have made a growing list of things we wish we could say, but can't and/or won't because, well, we need our jobs.
Here are the first 10 things we wish we could say and as the summer progresses, we'll be adding to the list. Naturally, input from others in the industry is always welcome and aliases are not only expected, but recommended.
1) "How many pints of Mountain Dew refills are you going to let your 12-year old drink?" Not only am I super busy, but the kid is climbing the walls and you waving me down like I'm a taxi cab is really obnoxious.
2) "No. The two of you can't sit at the table for four by the window, so just sit where the hostess puts you, and stop giving me dirty looks." Regular customers usually know and respect the seating drill and will request a specific table via reservation, if possible.
3) "Yes. You do have to pay extra for substitutions of items that cost more than those offered with your entree. It says so right on the menu, so why are you even asking me?" That is a standard offense of the earliest snow birds returning from Florida or Arizona and the same people ask for the same substitutions (and get the same answer) year after year.
4) "No, we won't turn the fans or air conditioning on, off, up or down." No one told you to wear that skimpy, age-inappropriate tank top with your pull-'em-in and push-'em up Vicky's Secret bra showing along with your impossible-to-miss muffin top.
5) "No, you cannot order off the lunch menu at dinner time." Most of the menu items are the same so let's face it, you're just being cheap. If you weren't, you'd order what you want without making a stink and take half of it home.
6) "I can't believe you ate that entire, gigantic potion of food! Most people don't even make a dent." That is the opposite of number five, but these are the same people who complain how fat they are, how they refuse to wear a bathing suit and then order dessert. Call us judgmental, but it bugs us.
7) "I don't care if you're driving or not. You're hammered and are making an ass of yourself." No one cares about your golf game, your new girlfriend, what you did in Vegas (of which we all wish would stay there) or what your stock broker said. Shut up.
8) "No, the chef can't come out so you can act like a big shot and tell her how great your meal was." Look around you! We're slammed and while your kind words would be appreciated, I've already waited too long for the food to come up for table sitting right next to you. The last thing they want is to see the chef out here chit chatting. Besides, there's a reason most kitchen people like to stay in the kitchen, and, FYI, they're just as happy with any cash tip that might come their way.
9) "You've already paid your bill and asked for your desserts to go ... so GO!" I know! I know! That is a dead horse of an issue. But you have no idea how many times we have all wanted to say that very thing to inconsiderate campers who are at our tables, instead of at Sebago Point campground sitting around their little fire pit.
10) "Stop being so condescending and snooty. We're all children of the universe here, so quit talking to me like I'm an imbecile." Perhaps it comes with the territory of being "From Away" and beyond, but it takes thick skin to wait on rude guests night after night. Granted, most people are working to keep the collective consciousness high by at least pretending to be patient, but I have seen many a new hostess reduced to tears by a thick Jersey accent.
Like most lists, this one goes on and on. As I have been known to say when I complain about the job, this is just part of the charm that comes with sore feet and late nights and not to mention fat cash.
The Down Low: Last week I promised gossip about soccer moms and suburbanites but have been temporarily censored for a greater good. Don't despair, sadly these stories are far too common and I'm sure I'll have a doozie soon. Hiring Hint: If you're looking for a summer restaurant job, now is the time to drop off your resume, even if the place isn't hiring or has already filled open positions. Many newly hired employees don't show up or don't work out, so be ready wrap the apron and run if a last minute call comes your way. In this situation, it'll be first come, first serve.
(Natalie Ladd is a columnist for the Portland Daily Sun. She has over 30 continuous years of corporate and fine-dining experience in all front-of-the-house management, hourly and under-the-table positions. She can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .)
Last Updated on Wednesday, 22 May 2013 01:16
Hits: 408