My Love of Maine Somewhat Explained
- Don Toothaker
- 3 hours ago
- 7 min read
My love affair with the state of Maine began while I was growing up in Massachusetts. Strongly attached to my immediate family and the many relatives nearby, I became curious about my family heritage by listening to stories told at family gatherings. At a young age, I learned much of my genealogy was deeply rooted in Maine, including some of the towns and areas we would visit for vacations and family events. I was fascinated. As I learned more about my ancestors, particularly those from Maine, I would stare out the car window during drives and imagine them there to see and talk to. I was captivated, wanting to know more. Mostly, I wanted to know why they chose to move to Maine. By the early 1700’s, after a somewhat tumultuous start in Massachusetts a century before, the Toothaker families I descend from had settled in the York, Brunswick, Harpswell, and Rangeley regions of Maine. As a boy, I daydreamed about how they got there, what work they did, and what hardships they faced. I imagine they were brave, hearty pioneers.
With Toothaker being such an unusual last name, one that inspired a lot of youthful teasing and bad jokes (and stupidly still does), I always sought information or historical facts that made my surname “special” instead of something oddly different. As a teenager, I was very fortunate to have two wonderful uncles, Kenneth Toothaker and George Moberger, who shared a great deal of family history with me. Aside from many great stories and conversations at family gatherings, they provided me with genealogy paperwork full of names, dates, records, and more. To this day, I treasure these documents, the information they provide, and the invaluable time spent with both uncles; very good men who are greatly missed. Aside from one ancestor, Roger Toothaker and his family, being embroiled in the Salem Witch Trials, most of my family history is typical and relatively uneventful. Undoubtedly, they were hard-working men and women who forged lives for themselves in New England as farmers, teachers, painters, doctors, boatbuilders, and more. Many of them lived in Maine. I wish I could sit and speak to all of them, but especially to Timothy Toothaker of Billerica, Massachusetts, who was wounded fighting the British at Bunker Hill, and George Albion Toothaker of Brunswick, Maine, who fought with the 20th Maine Volunteer Regiment under General Joshua Chamberlain during the Civil War. I can only imagine what they saw and how they felt.
In 1634, aboard the Ship Hopewell from Manchester, England, my first ancestors, Roger Toothaker, his wife Mary, and their infant son, also Roger, arrived in North America at Plymouth, Massachusetts. They eventually settled in Billerica. Despite this lengthy family timeline in America, I feel zero soulful connection to Plymouth or Billerica. I grew up just north of Boston in Lynnfield, and aside from a spectacular childhood and fantastic family memories, I feel zero soulful connection there too. However, initially inspired by family stories and history, along with personal experiences from my youth, Maine worked its way into my curiosity, my blood, and my soul at an early age. While growing up, almost all of our family vacations were taken in Southern Maine at the beach, at a Maine lake encircled with towering pine trees, or at a farm and woodlands of central Maine. Even as a young boy, I was captivated by the diverse, rugged landscape and rocky, craggy coastline as well as the assortment of wildlife seemingly everywhere. Unlike Massachusetts, Maine was big and untamed to me. Early on in my life, I learned to enjoy the feel of salt water on my skin, the pleasing scent of pine, and the smell of fresh-cut field hay. I loved it all. I wanted more of it. Today, my affection for Maine goes far beyond stories and history, love or appreciation. The ruggedness of Maine, everywhere, speaks to the wildness in me. The woodlands, waterways, and mountains inspire my creative thoughts. The clean, rhythmic nature of the coast soothes me. The tight-knit, small-town communities, from rural country towns to fishing villages, represent how I want to live my life with a sense of belonging. In ways I cannot adequately express, only pursue, Maine is part of me.
Over the years, I have experienced many locations and facets of Maine. I am hard-pressed to think of anything I do not like about the state, other than that I do not live there. Okay, maybe the black flies. Ya, I do not like the black flies. While growing up, many hours, days, and weeks of family time were spent in Southern Maine at York Beach, where I learned to love the sand, salt air, and the cold Atlantic water. Scrambling over the rocky shoreline of Short Sands and the surroundings of Nubble Light as a boy helped shape my love of Maine's unique coast. Some youthful family vacations were spent in Waterboro at my paternal grandfather's camp on Little Ossipee Lake and at my maternal grandfather's horse farm in Dixmont. Both, uniquely different, were memorable. We would often visit other relatives who lived in places such as Cape Elizabeth, Portland, Bryant Pond, China, West Athens, Westbrook, Raymond, Oxford, and more. Seeing new places in Maine while we visited family fueled my desire to travel and learn. Lynnfield, once the center of my universe, seemed as small as it really is when I crossed the Piscataqua River Bridge and was in Maine. Once I had my driver's license, I began to roam, and Maine called to me more than any other place. I explored the coast from Kittery to Calais. I camped and hiked in the western mountains of Sugarloaf, Bigelow, and Saddleback. While on active duty in the Air Force, I was stationed in Northern Maine at Loring Air Force Base for two years. Aroostook County, flatter and loaded with big, sprawling potato farms, featured a different lifestyle and landscape than southern, central, or coastal Maine. And, to my great fortune, for the past 39 years, my family has had a log cabin and a generous acreage of woodlands in the small, central town of Solon. There and all over the Kennebec Valley, I have hunted, fished, hiked, camped, and explored. The Cabin, built by my parents and now mine, is heaven to me. There is no place I know, near or far, where I feel more comfortable, complete, and at ease with myself. It was at The Cabin that I learned and grew my photography in earnest. There, in the woodlands and waterways, photography changed from something I liked doing to something I had to do. In many impactful ways, for many years, Maine influenced the course of my life.
As a photographer and photography instructor who travels extensively, I value Maine more than ever. My work takes me to locations I never dreamed I would see or experience, which is wildly exciting and gratifying, but I always feel more grounded, more content, and more like my genuine self when I return to Maine. It has all I need. It suits me. Certainly, not everyone will love Maine as I do, but whether you are a curious visitor or an inspired artist, Maine is a beautiful state with something for everyone. If you wish to experience or photograph urban life, Portland is a booming but small city located on the southern coast of Maine, offering culture and history. Only a few hours' drive north of the Old Port, up Route 95, the remote regions around Baxter State Park and the Great North Woods provide opportunities to explore and photograph rural wilderness and wildlife. It is indeed wild. Head into Maine's central region if you wish to experience vast tracks of woodlands, rivers, waterfalls, wildlife, farm life, and small-town Americana. It is exhilarating and picturesque. Also heading north from Portland, but inland along old Route 1, will take you through countless villages that are home to Maine's storied fishing industry, which is fascinating to see and stunning to photograph. From Yarmouth to Machias, you will not be disappointed. All of that is wicked good. When you drive far enough up Route 1, along the coast past the developed areas around Acadia National Park and past Machias, you will come to the sparsely populated, blueberry-infested solitude of Washington County, a few rural towns, and one very special Maine community that I have come to treasure. That one town embodies everything I love about Maine.
For the past 14 summers, while leading an annual photography workshop there, I have spent time in the small town of Lubec and along the nearby Bold Coast. The initial workshops, originally designed to focus on the Atlantic Puffins that temporarily call Machias Seal Island home during their nesting and breeding season, lasted only a few days. The elite opportunity to photograph these unique and beautiful birds from a land-based blind draws photographers from all over the globe. Only 15 people per day, for a few short months, can visit the island, the blinds, and the puffin colony. It is indeed an elite photography experience. And unique. And wicked fun. Since my first visit in 2012, I have been on the island to photograph the puffins many times, which is always exciting and rewarding, but, eventually, time spent in and around Lubec, absorbing the meaningful slower pace of life, the peaceful quiet, the friendly, good people that live there, the creative energy emanating from the region, and that beautiful Bay of Fundy fog, has taught me that as fantastic as the puffins are, they are only one highlight of the area. The more time I spent in Lubec, soaking up all its visual and soulful goodness, I realized the value of spending more time there. The annual workshop now spans a full week, with the primary focus shifting from puffins to the whole region. Yes, there is great photography to be done in Lubec, Quoddy Head State Park, Cutler Harbor, Eastport, and Campobello Island, but embracing these places creatively pays an even greater dividend personally. To be the best photographer and person you can be, one must invest in oneself by taking the time to look, see, and feel. Lubec is one of the best muses I know for that.
Today, I still admire and cherish everything about Maine as I always have. It still fills me with wonder and excitement at every visit. However, I admittedly look at it differently now. More specifically, I feel it differently. Youthful curiosity and enthusiasm have grown into experienced and appreciative reverence. As I stated earlier, Maine is part of me. It is not simply a place I visit and enjoy; it lives and breathes in the depths of my soul. I rely on the lessons and rewards taught by my ancestors and my parents, regarding hard work, being neighborly, and finding purpose. Deep down inside, I want to be like Maine: rugged, diverse, resourceful, wild, soothing, strong, creative, and peaceful. Photography takes me around the state, not as far or often as my younger, more exploratory days, but I can honestly say my desire to see and feel Maine is greater than ever. I love it all.
I firmly believe that everyone needs a special place to go where they feel relaxed, comforted, and refreshed. Everyone needs a haven of solitude and peacefulness. For some, it could be a favorite bench, a beach, a garden, a vacation spot, or, in my case, a state. Maine suits me.
Photograph What You Feel
Comments