Tag Archives: Quisisana Resort

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day 3

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Historical, Personal Values, Social, Striving

July 24, 2026- When I rest my head on the large plush lion, while with Hana in her play pen, my granddaughter sits quietly next to me, as if watching over her Papa. Aram would do the same thing with Penny and me, when he was a baby.

Hana looks at my watch, very intently, when it is about the normal time for her parents to get home from work. It has Roman numerals on it, but somehow, between the position of the numerals and her own internal clock, she knows it is time for their return. If they are late, she starts calling “mama mama mama” or “oma”.

Our walk today took us past the nearest elementary school. I told Hana that, if we are still here when she reaches school age, that will be her school. She gave a big smile at that news. It is just past a pleasant section of Hoblitzelle Park, and a bridge over Russell Creek. She likes going that way, on our walks, as do I.

She has had a good week, despite the intense heat of Monday and Tuesday.

HANA’S NOTE- Papa doesn’t know it, but I have been looking at his watch, when Mommy or Daddy come home, every night for a while now. I don’t know what the letters mean, but I know that’s when our family is all together again.

YEAR In REMEMBRANCE-1976 This was our nation’s Bicentennial. When Independence Day came around, I was again working at Quisisana, for the summer. I went with the Staff Waiter, to Bridgton, his home town, and took in the festivities there. We each had an open can of beer, which a police officer spotted and told us that was illegal; then he just walked away. We finished our beers and found a trash can. The other thing about Quisi was that I did not make any lasting friends this time around. I was less focused, having spent the months after my graduation, substitute teaching in Saugus and up the road, in North Reading. Neither town had opportunities for a new teacher; the waiting list for a Social Studies teacher was quite lengthy and the oldest teachers were in their late fifties, not at all ready for retirement. It was also during my time at Quisisana that a family member suffered a horrible injury and we lost someone very close to our family, in the same accident. That sent me on a tailspin, and I made serious errors in judgement with regard to some budding friendships.

After Quisisana, I went up to the Bangor area, and subsisted between substitute teaching at Bangor Junior High and High School and tutoring a homebound student in a nearby town. I lived in a boarding house for a time, then moved in with a couple of young men who had advertised for a roommate. That lasted until mid-February of the following year. While there, I lived a quiet life and disturbed on one. In November, I was hired as a Title I Paraprofessional, whose responsibility was to run a self-contained program for eight emotionally-handicapped middle school boys. It was in a rural school district. I put together what could best be described as a patchwork program. I had no real administrative support and no background in the field of Special Education. I was a warm body, who showed up most days. It did no one much good.

Other than being close to a large family of a paternal uncle, aunt and cousins, and enjoying many lovely parts of Maine, the decision to re-locate there was not one of my brightest moves.

The Hana Chronicles: Month 7, Day 1

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

July 22, 2026-Hana started her new month with a new behaviour- wanting to more actively take part in Story Time. She wants to be able to look at a page for several minutes after I have read the words. She focuses on the pictures and the form of the words. She also likes to touch the page, especially if it has a smooth texture.

She laughs a lot more now, taking delight in all of my antics and silly songs. Once, this afternoon, she put her hand over my mouth.hen I was singing to her-then she started laughing. She also likes to tip a tower of rings over, as soon as I put the rings back on. It is just another of the games that get invented by infants, using their observational skills.

We went on our morning walk early, again this morning, thus avoiding the later 105 degree still air. Few people were along the path, but there was a group of Middle School Track Team members, getting ready for what was hopefully a brief pre-season workout. Hana, for her part, spent part of the walk asleep in her stroller.

HANA’S NOTE- I want to know what this reading thing is. The stories that Papa reads to me are sometimes exciting and other times just silly. I am looking at the pictures and making little stories in my mind. Sometimes, I dream of them.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-1974 I spent my first year at UMass-Amherst living in a co-ed dorm. Having a large group of brothers and sisters was nothing new, so I was quite relaxed. Still, ever the rube, I used my antiquated record player-which became known as The Set”. Most everyone else had a boom box, state-of-the art stereo systems, etc. I was okay with what I had. I was also the “editor” of a residence quad newsletter called “The Sage-Revisited” and I delivered The New York Times around campus, six days a week. That lasted about five months, then I forgot yo change the code to “Sunday”, a bunch of Sunday Times were ripped off and i left that job. The editor position wasn’t much more successful. I did a lot better, academically than in extracurriculars.

I kept encountering Baha’is in Amherst, though I remained Catholic. I did not find the Newman Center (Catholic student union and parish) very supportive of us students, so in hindsight, I might have made more inquiries into the Baha’i Faith-my second Residential Assistant, and one other RA across the Quad, were Baha’is. I babysat our RA’s infant daughter on at least one occasion. (I would later meet both mother and daughter, at Baha’i gatherings in Arizona, in the 1990s.) The Dean of the College of Education was also a Baha’i.

Summer of 1974 was mostly spent at a resort hotel in western Maine. Quisiana was/is a music camp, so there was a wealth of musical talent. I wasn’t part of that talent. I worked as a busboy, did a credible job and explored a lot of Maine, those eight weeks. Young women floated in and out of my life, which was okay. I have never been much for brief affairs.

This was the summer of Goodbye, Nixon. The staff dining room attendant made the announcement of the President’s resignation, on August 2. It was a quiet day, otherwise. This potentially unsettling year was like my one encounter with a juvenile moose-could have been troublesome, but …Nah

My Life Thus Far: The Seventies

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Posted by on in Family, Inner Struggles, Social, Striving, Travel

February 11, 2016, Prescott-  Today was brutal, for many people about whom I care.  It wasn’t so bad for me, personally, because I stayed put-mostly out of financial prudence.  Things will be better that way, tomorrow.

So, I will continue recounting what has been good, and not so good, with the years gone by.  A lot of you, my faithful WP readers, despised my account of the Sixties.  Brace yourselves:  Things went a tad south for me, as twentysomething, but I lay the blame at my own two feet.  Therefore, if you were rankled by me as a teen, skip this post.

1970-High Point:  Being in Fort Myer for the entire year.

Low Point:  Stan E. getting killed in combat.

People in the heart:  Cathy P., my best long-distance phone friend; my three faithful roommates in the TriService barracks; Don and Charley,my co-workers; Stan E., who died for his country.

Places in the heart:  Georgetown, DC; the C & P Canal Towpath; Lynn Beach, when I was on leave.

1971-High Point:  Being stationed in the Cholon section of Saigon.

Low Point:  Wretched, crowded, chaotic Long Binh Army Base.

People in the heart:  Jim T., who stood up for his girls; Tay Lanh, who honoured my dignity; Bill B., Arnie P. and Roger D., my buddies in Cholon; the Henderson family, who overlooked my surly temperament, while I was in Sydney; Tommy W., who didn’t deserve to have been left alone, while injured.

Places in the heart:  Cholon; Vung Tau; Tauranga Park; Woollahra.

1972- High Point:  My hitchhiking trip across North America.

Low Point:  Ignoring what I had been told about spiritual truth.

People in the heart:  Dave G., who gave me my first post-Army job; my workmates, Jimmy, Jan, Donna and Franny; Jim F., my long-suffering boss; Lillies S., the college office manager, who told me to always set my sights high; my hometown buddies, who welcomed me back from ‘Nam; the Gordon family, of Toronto, who camped with me, along Lake Superior; Kathy B., with whom I almost fell madly in love; the Bullocks, who hosted me in Baltimore, for a week; the anonymous truck driver in King of Prussia, who introduced me to the Baha’i Faith; Sandy and Al, my housemates; Donna G., who tried to be a good friend.

Places in the heart:  North Shore Community College; Montreal; Lake Superior; Edmonton; Jasper; Lake Louise; Babb, MT; Morgantown, WV; Baltimore; Ocean City; Bethlehem, PA; my little room in Beverly, MA.

1973- High Point: Visiting Prince Edward Island.

Low Point:  The Chelsea Fire.

People in the heart:  Geary C., Alan A., Sandy G. and Angie D., my friends at NSCC; just about everyone I met on PEI; the hipster who filled my tank with gas, for giving him a ride from Ellsworth to Boothbay.

Places in the heart:  Beverly,MA; Salem; Boston Public Library; Prince Edward Island; New Glasgow, NS; Boothbay Harbor, ME.

1974- High Point: Working at Quisisana Resort, ME.

Low Point:  The botched attempt to serve as editor of “Sage Revisited”.

People in the heart: All my NSCC and Beverly friends; Kathy H., Annette K, Tom & Fricky J., Sandy M., the Grices and Dave B., who were my friends and co-workers at “Quisi”; Dr. and Mrs. Ziv, my “Jewish grandparents” from lower Manhattan; Jimmy S. and Mr. McGregor, who offered me work close to home; my dorm mates in Orchard Hill, at UMass-Amherst.

Places in the heart: Quisisana Resort, Lovell, ME; Bar Harbor; North Conway; Amherst; Fisher Island, NY.

1975- High Point:  Hiking the Presidential Range, in New Hampshire’s White Mountains.

Low Point: Getting fired from a part-time job, on my 25th birthday.

People in the heart:  My campus buddies at UMass; Mrs. Braman, the housemother in my rooming house, in Northampton; Steve R., Paul W. and Ken C., my brainy, irreverent and totally sloppy first housemates in South Deerfield; the Rivard family, who moved in, after the guys were evicted; Allan D., my internship co-op teacher; Lloyd Z. and Linda D., who imparted good pedagogy; every child who put up with me in that little U.S. History class; the Zivs.

Places in the heart:  Amherst; Northampton; South Deerfield; the White Mountains; lower Manhattan.

1976- High Point:  Graduating from UMass.

Low Point:  Almost losing a sibling, in an accident.

People in the heart:  Dave C. and Janet C., my Quisisana friends and a most unlikely couple; Fred L., aka “Doctor Dirt”; Clay R., my younger doppelganger; the Smalls, who lodged me in Bangor; the Bryants, who fed me, whenever I tutored their son; Mr. Bluestein, who stressed the value of a dollar; Peter W., who hired me as a Teacher Aide; Cheryl Q., who mentored me.

Places in the heart:  Bangor, Brewer and Etna,ME;

1977- High Point:  My brother, David’s, wedding.

Low Point:  Being evicted, on false pretenses, in the middle of February.

People in the heart:  Cheryl Q., Peter W., Greg F., Susan C., Grace P. and Evelyn L., who tried their best to be mentors and friends; Lucy and Ronnie R., who took me in from the dead of winter; John and Mary M., my cousin and his wife, who were always there for me; my eight unsettled, troubled and always worthwhile students, in the Behaviorally-Challenged class; my first and fourth-graders, that second year, who re-assured me that I could serve as a teacher.

Places in the heart:  Brewer, Etna, Vinalhaven and Fort Kent, ME; Fredericton and Edmundston, NB; Riviere Bleu and Lac Megantic, QB.

1978- High Point:  My sister, Cheryl’s, wedding.

Low Point:  Losing my temper on a school field trip to a museum.

People in the heart:  My friends and well-wishers at Etna-Dixmont School; my new supervisors at Villa School, Toltec, AZ; many of my students, at both schools; Mrs. Knox, my landlady, over the summer.

Places in the heart:  Bangor, Etna, Dexter and Kingfield, ME.; Mactaquac Park and Saint John, NB; Toltec, Casa Grande, Phoenix, Tucson and Grand Canyon, AZ; Amarillo; Chicago; Toledo.

1979- High Point:  My first solo visit to Mexico.

Low Point:  Encountering a dangerous sex offender, in the New Mexico desert.

People in the heart:  Lynda E., Patrick G., Bill K.,  John G.- my co-workers at Villa; the vast majority of my students; the two sisters who drove me from Little Rock to Albuquerque, without regard for my disheveled state; the majority of my fellow travelers, between Phoenix and Boston, and back; the young lady who gave me a ride from Grand Canyon to Las Vegas, in an empty tour bus, just for the sake of having company.

Places in the heart:   Casa Grande;Grand Canyon; Tucson; Puerto Penasco; Hermosillo; Ensenada; Woodfords and Bishop, CA;  Hodgenville and Mammoth Cave, KY.

This decade brought a lot of painful personal growth to my doorstep. There are many people from those days who, if they were never to see me again, it would be too soon.  There are others whom I miss, sorely.  The big lessons are that alcohol and autism are a  wicked combination.  Lack of even rudimentary social skills surfaced, at the worst possible times, though thankfully, it was all pretty much done by the time I moved to Arizona.  When a rough-edged former co-worker tried to nail me with  the label of “loser”, towards the end of 1979, his words fell on deaf ears.

The Eighties would be, by and large, awesome.