I'm not one for flea markets and yard sales, but when I see a stack of old books, I'm all over it... It was a Friday, three summers ago. A breezy, 90 degrees. I was on my way to my favorite place for some "me" time, Reid State Park, on the picturesque island of Georgetown, Maine. Yes, I am a beach bum.
In Wiscasset, while sitting in traffic on a congested, route 1, I noticed traffic blocking part of the road, on the right, this wasn't helping the traffic jam in progress. These vehicles were stopped in front of an old, freshly white washed, farm house. "Oh, gawd! Another yard sale slowing~up my hour long trek to the surf and sand!" I said, under my breath. Right there, near the curb, was a card table with a box of old dusty books. The sign said "the whole lot for $20." I couldn't help myself, I've been sitting at a stand still for twenty minutes. I got out of my car and walked a few feet to the table. I couldn't believe it! There were about thirty books, some under the card table. I quickly glanced over some titles and knew I had to have these books. There was 'The French~Canadian Heritage in New England' by Gerard J. Brault, and 'The Franco~Americans' by Maurice Violette. There were more, some written in French. There was a young man, in his thirties, standing under a huge oak tree, near the table, he was cleaning up an old rocking chair and I asked if that price of twenty dollars was for the books in the box. He said that if I was that interested in those old books, I could have all of them for twenty~five! Jackpot! He said, they belonged to his mom, she was an avid history buff (God bless, her soul) and they were just taking up space. I was so grateful, that I shoved two twenty dollar bills in his shirt pocket and he helped me get them into my car. "keep the change!" I said. I spent the day at the beach, pouring over one book at a time, making several trips to my car for each book. I was afraid of the sea spray and the sand and what kind of damage could be caused so I looked at them through a clear ziplock bag. I found a treasure on that day. I quietly, promised the young man's mom that I would always take care of her precious books and love them as much as she probably did.
These writings are going to help me understand what are in the eyes and hearts of my ancestors that are portrayed in the very old photos that belonged to my grandmother, Rita Ouellette Patry and my great~grandmother, Meme're Honorine Ouellette and I hope that you will find or learn something that will touch your heart, in your, very own family history. This blog is the perfect forum to share what I've discovered. Come with me, learn about the roots of our ancestors, our heritage, the lives of our French~Canadian and Franco~American ancestors, looking for a simple, peaceful, life in a free country, a sense of community and family within the church and a whole lot of music, food and traditional culture! Who knows, maybe we can discover some familiar names, statistics, places, and dates! This is how my trip to the beach turned into a pot of gold...