1990 continued

The view made the ride worthwhile, my usual route home to Medford.

  Some years just have more things to talk about, 1990 for example.  I need to correct an error from yesterday, Jon left home in 1990, he went back to Portland.  He did find a job quickly at Maine Medical Center; he's still there.
  The Town of Medford has a small population, how else would I have been elected on a 17 to 3 vote?  But I was more than happy to take part in local stuff too; I learned a lot from it.  Ninety-three percent of the land in town is owned by paper or timber companies, that's okay what hurt the town is that the tax rate on "Tree Growth" is less than other land in town.  Everything worked out, but only because the annual budget was so small.  Like most other town and cities in Maine the three largest outlay of money was for schools, roads and trash removal - in that order, after those three things Medfords' spending was in the hundreds or very low thousands of dollars.  Medford, for reasons of geography and history had it's own school department.  There had been no schools in town for maybe fifty years but there was a bus and bus driver.  Families that lived on the eastern side of the river sent their children to Howland and Enfield; on the other side of the river they went to Milo.  Tuition was paid to both of those school districts (the State sets the amount) and that's where most of the money was spent.  This is not an unusual thing in Maine.
  When the "trestle bridge" opened people didn't have to leave town to cross the river.  To go from where we lived to a neighbors home on the other side of the river would have meant a drive to Milo, or Howland, and back into Medford.  When the railroad pulled up the tracks they gave the town the trestle, it was turned into a bridge for cars. 
  Back in the "old days" there was a Ferry across the river, powered by horses pulling ropes on each side, there remains an archway under the trestle from that wagon road.  Linda and I took Hollie under the arch to the river one day; we were throwing rocks into the water.  Hollie ran out of rocks so she just took the binoculars and threw them! 

The "trestle" with its' wooden surface.  The planks are replaced from time to time.

The arch from the old wagon road.  Young people here buy spray paint too.
It's them damned people from away that do this stuff!

Cold Stream winds through a bog.  This is one of my favorite spots, still.