Journey With the Comet

by Dana Wayne Haley

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

  When Murdock shook his brother’s hand goodbye, he felt depressed. He watched his older brother walking away and turned to Margaret.

  “Maggie, I have the strangest feeling; something tells me I’m never gonna see Harry again.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly, Murdy. He’ll be back. And someday you’ll get to see the rest of your family too.”

  “I sure hope so. I miss ‘em somethin’ terrible. More than I let on. But it’s a long ways to Basswood Ridge—and lots of money too.”

  —2—

  It was April 19th, 1906, and Margaret joined Murdock and 2-year-old Lillian at the kitchen table for breakfast in their Hammond Street apartment. As usual, Margaret had fetched the morning paper from the outside steps, where the paperboy had left it, and placed it on the table next to Murdock. He picked it up, intending to read the sports section, but something on the front page caught his eye.

  “Look here, Maggie,” he said. “San Francisco had a huge earthquake yesterday. The center was only two miles from the city, on the San Andreas Fault.”

  “Was it bad?” Margaret asked.

  “I’ll say! Couldn’t be worse. It was a 7.9 quake, and the city was destroyed, not only by the quake but by numerous fires.”

  “Oh, that’s awful. How many were hurt?”

  “It says here that over a thousand were killed and a lot more are missing.”

  “My God!” Margaret said. “What a shame. To think, Mae’s been wanting to move to California because of the weather, but I wonder if she’ll still want to after she hears what happened.”

  “Well, I don’t know about her,” Murdock replied, “but I’m perfectly happy here in Maine; it may be cold, but at least the grounds don’t open up spontaneously. I have no desire to fall into the ground until I’m deceased, and I’m not even looking forward to it then.”

  “Nor am I,” Margaret laughed.

  —3—

  On November 5th, 1907, almost four years after marrying, the Haleys had their second child: Arlene Mae Haley. As a result, the young couple went looking for a larger house in which to raise their slowly expanding family. Finding housing in the booming city of Bangor was still no easy matter; however, they eventually found a suitable home to rent. This time it was located on the east side of the Kenduskeag, or “on the more scenic side of town,” as Margaret would say; a fact that was borne out in the naming of the streets beyond Broadway. Most of them were named after trees indigenous to the area, or after things that also conjured up images of scenic beauty. Of course, there were exceptions.

  “It’s just my luck to be stuck on a dead-end street named Otis,” Margaret joked.

  The Haleys’ new home on Otis Street wasn’t as big as they had hoped for, but it was big enough to accommodate a second child; and, it was only a mile from the Bangor Freight Station. Although its proximity to Murdock’s place of employment was a particularly good reason the Haleys liked their new home, it was far from the only one. Another was its proximity to Chapin Park: a beautiful recreational park only a half-mile up State Street from the Haley home, a little less than halfway between Otis and downtown Bangor. Or, as Margaret was prone to say: “It’s only a hop, skip and a jump from here.” Whereas, Murdock’s favorite expression for not far was: “It’s only a stone’s throw away.”

  Even though the park itself wasn’t right on State Street, it wasn’t far off it either, being separated from that street by a small elementary school named after President Abraham Lincoln that the Haley children would likely attend. The day they moved in, the Haleys decided to journey to downtown Bangor. As they began walking hand-in-hand along State Street they first came to Fruit Street, then Pearl, Fern, Birch and Maple Streets. Walking another block they came to Parkview Avenue; and just up ahead was Palm Street, where the small school and park were located.

  “Murdy, let’s take a look at the park,” Margaret said, upon coming to Palm Street.

  “Oh-kee-doak,” he replied. So they turned right onto Palm and he quipped: “Whoever named this street must’ah been a dreamer; you’d hav’ta hunt long and hard to find a palm tree in Maine.”

  Margaret laughed and said: “I suppose so, but it doesn’t hurt to dream every now and again. Speaking of dreams, did I tell you that Maude is getting married in December?”

  “You don’t say!” he said.

  “Yeah, and to top it off she’s gonna be living right next door to Mae on Broadway, so now I can kill two birds with one stone: When I go to visit Mae, I can visit with Maude too.”

  “That’s great!” he said. “Let’s hope Maude has a long and happy marriage.”

  After walking only 100 feet on Palm Street, the Haleys were taken by surprise when it abruptly ended.

  “Whoa, that’s the shortest street I’ve ever seen,” Murdock observed.

  After walking passed the school, they came to Chapin Park. The Haleys strolled 600 feet to the far side of the park and came upon Coombs Street, which was parallel to State Street and connected Parkview Avenue to Forest Avenue. Across Coombs they saw a fairly scenic, peaceful-looking street. It ran between and parallel to the two avenues, getting its start near the center of Coombs and ending at Stillwater Avenue: a 11-mile road connecting Broadway to downtown Old Town. The Haleys were surprised to see that this street was also named Palm.

  “Guess Palm’s a casualty of this park and the school,” Murdock speculated.

  Indeed it was. Before the school and park were built, Palm connected State Street directly to Stillwater Avenue, but that fact didn’t prevent the city from building the park right smack in the middle of it.

  “This place is perfect,” Margaret said while walking back through the park. “When Arlene’s a little older she can play in that sandbox over there, and Lillian will be able to play on the swings and slides next to it. One of those green benches near the flower garden will be the perfect place for me to keep a close eye on the both of them; and to rest my old bones.”

  From that time on the young couple spent hours at Chapin Park, often sitting on the park benches, holding Arlene and watching Lillian play with the other children. Margaret particularly liked to sit and admire eye-pleasing flowers that were generously sprinkled throughout the park. You could say that flowers were Margaret’s passion; after moving to Otis she planted all kinds of flowers in red clay pots that sat outside on her doorsteps, and in rectangular wooden boxes that were attached to the windowsills of their house. Sprinkled here and there on the property were various types of colorful flowers that Margaret also planted not long after moving there. In fact, Murdock was often heard kidding his wife about her passion for flowers.

  “Any time I see a hole in the ground, or an empty container, I bet Lillian that within a day or two there will be flowers growing out of it, if you have anything to say about it.”

  “Darn right,” Margaret bragged. “In fact, someday, when we finally get our own place, I’m gonna have a huge flower garden. I had a small one in Glenburn, but I’ve always wanted a large one; and, by the time I got done, it would be the most beautiful garden in the State of Maine, if not New England.”

  “No doubt it would,” Murdock laughed. “In the meantime you’ll hav’ta content yourself with these. While we’re talking about it, dear, anything else you want when we get our own home?”

  “Well, now that you mention it, sweety, I’ve always dreamed about having my own porch swing, facing the flower garden of course, so I can sit outside in the fresh air and enjoy my beautiful flowers while swinging with my children.”

  “Just your children?” Murdock seemed puzzled.

  “Well, maybe the neighbors; when they visit,” Margaret joked.

  “Hey, how about me?” he asked, feigning enormous disappointment.

  “Oh, I almost forgot about you,” she teased. “I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to share my
swing with you on occasion, if you behave yourself.”

  “That’s awful nice of you, Maggie. I’ll try.”

  “Think nothing of it, dear. After all, I do let you share the park bench with me, don’t I?”

  Almost every day during the summer months, Margaret walked to Chapin Park and waited for Murdock to show up after work. They would sit serenely on a park bench, playing with baby Arlene and talking about the day’s happenings, while Lillian played contently on the nearby swings. After typically spending a half-hour there, the Haleys made the half-mile trek home, with Murdock carrying the baby, arriving in time for Margaret to ready supper while her husband read the paper to catch up on world events and to see how the Boston Pilgrims were doing. Then they would talk about what he read, and about neighborhood gossip that Margaret had heard. After supper they often played a game of Cribbage while Lillian watched and laughed at the two of them teasing each other. To many, their daily routine might have seemed dull, yet to the Haleys—because of the stories and laughter they shared—their life was anything but.

  —4—

  On April 1st of 1909 Murdock was looking forward to the beginning of the baseball season.

  “I think the Pilgrims can win it all this season,” he told Margaret, when she was serving supper.

  “Don’t you mean the Red Sox, dear?”

  “Oh, that’s right. Even though it’s been a year since they were renamed, I still can’t get used to it, especially after calling them the Pilgrims all these years. Regardless, they improved a lot last year, and they should be even better this year.”

  “I hope you’re right, Murdy,” Margaret said. “For your sake.”

  In July of 1909 Margaret became pregnant again and the Haleys were once again in need of a larger place to live. After scouring the rental sections of the daily newspaper nearly every day, they finally found a home on Palm Street that was, as far as they were concerned, perfect for a family of five.

  “The price is reasonable, its size is more than adequate, and the best part is: it’s nearly as close to Chapin Park and the Freight Station as our place on Otis is,” Murdock told his wife when they were done looking at it.

  “Well then, what are we waiting for; let’s rent it,” she said.

  Margaret was also sold on the Palm Street house, but for other reasons. First of all, she took a liking to the neighborhood, not just because it was peaceful and scenic, but because the elderly nextdoor neighbor Mrs. Murphy was as friendly as could be, and she was almost as passionate as Margaret when it came to flowers. Another reason that she and Murdock liked the new house was because it was “just a stones throw” from the school her kids would likely be attending.

  “It’s roughly three-quarters of a mile,” Murdock informed his wife.

  That tidbit more than clinched the Haleys’ decision to move to Palm Street. Their new home was at the far end of Palm, just a few feet from Stillwater Avenue, and the small school on State Street—the Abraham Lincoln Elementary School—was at the other end, just beyond Chapin Park. Another advantage of their new location was that the park was only three blocks from Judy’s, and walking to downtown Bangor would be “a piece of cake” according to Murdock. Although the Haleys made the trek downtown for the purpose of seeking out entertainment sources, the walk was quite entertaining in itself, for both the parents and the children alike, thanks to the many small novelty shops along State Street—one on nearly every corner and sometimes in between—with owners who would stand outside trying to entice patrons inside using charm and witticism that only a native Mainer would likely understand.

  The Eagle’s Nest at the corner of Pine and State, just a block past Judy’s, was Margaret’s favorite shop. The Haley children noticed that their parents liked to engage the genial merchants in spicy, good-humored banter. Indeed, they realized that their parents and the shopkeepers actually reveled in playing the barter game. It was clear that the parents enjoyed their attempts to ‘talk down’ the shop owner’s prices, at times even buying a small inexpensive item or two from them, if only in some small way to help keep their newly made friends in the black. And similarly, it was obvious from the smiles on their faces that the shop owners relished haggling with their parents just as much. Usually, however, after playfully haggling for a while, Murdock would say, “It’s wicked rich for my blood,” and then be on his way to downtown Bangor, leaving the merchants shaking their heads and laughing at the same time.

  But haggling with the merchants was not the only obstacle the Haleys faced on their walk to the downtown area. Sometimes walking down the steepest hill on State Street was even more challenging, especially during the winter when the sidewalk, slippery with snow and ice, caused many a bruised feeling, and oftentimes a bruised posterior. As might be expected, the challenging hill also caused many a curse word to escape unexpectedly from the mouths of even the most refined, most churchgoing people. That hill was the one Murdock walked on his first day in Bangor, and with Margaret the first day they met, the one he now jokingly referred to as “Purgatory Hill,” because as he was known to say: “It was worse than hell walking up it.”

  Chapter 9

  Baby Leona and the Eagle

  On April 22nd, 1910, the Haleys were relaxing at home; Murdock was reading the morning paper while Margaret was fixing breakfast.

  “Hey, Maggie, it says here that President Taft is planning on visiting Bangor come July.”

  “Is that right!?” Margaret said; and a while later she heard: “Oh my God, Maggie! Poor Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn are orphans; Mark Twain died yesterday.”

  “Oh, what a shame! How old was he, Murdy?”

  “It says here he was 76. And listen to this: It says he came into this world with Halley’s Comet, and now he’s gone out with it.”

  “Ain’t that somethin’!” Margaret said.

  Not long thereafter she grabbed her stomach and moaned.

  “I guess it’s getting to be time,” Murdock said.

  “Yeah, maybe we should call my mother.”

  “You’re probably right. Lillian!” he yelled. “Run across the road to Mrs. Murphy’s and call Grandma Eunice. Tell your grandma we need her right away; she’ll know why.”

  Two hours later Eunice Carver walked through the door carrying a small bag.

  “How are you, Eunice?” Murdock asked.

  “Oh, fair-to-middlin’ I guess,” she answered. “How’s Maggie doing?”

  “She’s better,” he replied. “She cramps up every now and again, and her morning sickness seems to be getting worse every day. I’m glad you’re here; today may be the day.”

  “We’ll see; time will tell,” Eunice remarked. “Where is she?”

  “She’s in the living room resting on the couch. Go right in and make yourself at home while you’re here. The guest bedroom is all yours if you need to stay here tonight.”

  “Thanks, I brought a change of clothes just in case,” she said.

  Although Eunice was expecting Margaret to give birth today, fate made her wait four long days to help with the delivery of the Haleys’ third child.

  Margaret was one of four children that the 64-year-old woman had given birth to, so she had plenty of birthing experience. Eunice only added to her expertise by assisting with the births of Mae’s three children and Margaret’s first two. Indeed the delivery of her grandchildren was becoming old hat, so much so that the delivery of this one went much easier than the first five. It had been three years between the birth of Lillian and Arlene, and now three years later another Haley girl—Leona Bessie Haley—was born on the chilly but beautiful sunny day of April 26th, 1910, when Halley’s Comet was still gracing the skies of Bangor.

  —1—

  Lillian was in the kitchen playing marbles when she heard the newborn crying for the first time, and Arlene was just coming in after playing outside, and she heard baby Leona crying too.r />
  After the new mother and baby were sufficiently cleaned up, Margaret yelled out.

  “Okay kids, you can come in and see your new little sister now. But be careful you….”

  Before Margaret could finish her warning, the door flew open, painfully striking Murdock’s left elbow, and 6-year-old Lillian, who had been waiting impatiently just outside the door, scurried excitedly passed her father into the bedroom. When the door slammed into Murdock’s elbow he instinctively spun around clockwise as if he were a ballet dancer doing a pirouette. A second after finishing his unintended spin, he felt his left arm go numb and grabbed his funny bone. When his brain sensed the stinging pain—hardly a second after that—he comically began jumping up and down like a clown.

  Margaret was amused to see her husband’s comical actions, even after hearing him yelling in agony.

  “Ouch! Oh! Oh. Ohhhh,” Murdock screamed.

  She tried desperately to hide her amusement, but no matter how hard she tried, Margaret was helpless to prevent a smile from appearing on her face. Not wanting to appear too unsympathetic to her husband’s predicament, however, she quickly placed her hand over her mouth, not just to cover the smile on her face, but also to stifle a giggle that was desperately trying to escape it.

  “It’s not funny, Maggie!” Murdock said sternly.

  Eunice and Margaret both burst out laughing when he said that. All of a sudden, Arlene, who had been in the kitchen cleaning mud off her boots when she heard her mother call, came running into the bedroom. Soon thereafter, Margaret noticed a tear come to Murdock’s eye, but she was surprised to see that he was laughing, not crying. The reason was soon obvious to her when she saw little Arlene picking herself off the brown linoleum floor. The 3-year-old was so excited about seeing her new sister that when she rushed passed her father into the bedroom she didn’t see him dancing around the room while writhing in pain. But, more important, she didn’t see a large, light-brown bath-towel that had earlier fallen from the bed onto the floor; that is, until she tripped and landed on it, sliding 6 feet across the floor on her tummy before stopping with her head just inches from the bedroom wall.