Rev. Herbert F. Milligan

REV. HERBERT FREEMAN MILLIGAN (3rd generation)

(1878 – 1970)

EFFIE LOURAINE ROBBINS

(1880 - 1940)

Forgive me in advance for what will be a long post about Rev. Herbert F. Milligan.  The Reverend published his own memoirs in A Few Mumblings in 1960 and updated it in 1966.  Altogether, it makes for a long posting.  However, I do not want his memoir to be lost to posterity, nor do I feel that I should edit his memoir.  Therefore, I publish this section of Mumblings (that of his own life) in its entirety.  "Mumblings" only had one family picture, Herbert and Foddie.  Thanks to several family members, I was able to scan some old family photos which I will add to this and future postings.  Any red text in brackets [text] was added by me.  I did some internet research and was able to verify and provide links to some of the occurrences and statements made by Herbert.  All of Herbert's children were born to his first wife Effie Robbins.  He remarried Florence Belle (Maddox) Weeks (referred to as "Foddie" herein) in 1941.  From A Few Mumblings (and its updates):

     “I was a normal lad, full of tricks and pranks, like many of you, which need no recording. At an early date, in a home on Bow Street, Everett [MA], just a stone's throw in the rear of Auntie Knox, Father was in a torchlight procession during the Benjamin Harrison presidential campaign [1888]. He had placed slats in the front room windows and scores of lighted candles on the slats. We had no electric lights at that time. Our oil lamps provided all of the illumination we needed. On our center table, with marble top, was placed a large lamp and shade. The parade passed on Bow Street and mother came to extinguish the candles and while she was busy I hid under the table. She raised the lamp and started to retire to the sitting room, when I jumped with a "Boo" behind her. She didn't drop the lamp but was frightened for a moment. I got my paddling.

“We lived on Paris Street when I started my primary school activities on School Street [Everett, MA]. Graduated to Grammar School and from then until I left the eighth grade in February of my graduating year, was always among the first six scholars in classes of 40 to 60 pupils. I remember "Granny Hall" who always flogged me if she was hit by a spit ball, and a Miss Davis, another teacher, who in later life when I happened to be selected to deliver an anniversary sermon at the Everett Congregational Church, on Broadway, came to me at the close and weepingly stated, "I am so glad today, that I had the privilege of assisting in your education and training." The Principal, Andy Bennett, chewed tobacco and always spit into a side pocket of sawdust.

“I hope that none of you will charge me with boasting in anything that I may record, for I excelled at many things, though I never considered any of my activities of any particular importance or of value. 

“I had a chance to work as a Board Boy [stock market], in Boston, at $5.00 per week and accepted. Later I took Night High School instruction at the Grammar School building and in that business course, was instructed in shorthand by the famous Mr. Gregg who had but recently arrived in this country from Europe [arrived in Boston 1893 moved to Chicago in 1895]. His system was based on the Isaac Pitman system which I had already learned from a Dr. Hull, of our acquaintance. Sitting beside me on one occasion, and dictating, he said, "You are doing mighty fine. I am quoting at the rate of 200 words a minute."

“I used to report for the Boston Transcript, and later, when residing at Saugus, Mass. publishing a weekly "Calendar" and at my father's home assisting on the "Orange Home News", furnished the Boston Globe through its correspondent, Mr. Morse, and the Boston Herald through Mr. Titcom both at Lynn [MA]. I was regular agent and reporter for the Lynn Daily Item and several years later, when I decided to remove to Maine, after a four-year siege of Malaria, the two Hasting Brothers, owners of the Lynn Item, said to me, "Mr. Milligan, at any time in the future that you would like to take up newspaper work once more, remember us. We will make a place for you at any time."

(About 1912 Methodist Church Clinton, ME? Guessing at the identities)  Front: Alice, Ester, Leila, Emma;  Back: Effie, Herbertha, Herbert, Christena, Herbert

“That was in the spring of 1909 when we moved, with six children to North Newcastle, Maine. I pitched for the [Lynn, MA] Item Baseball team, alternating with Johnnie Beckworth the cartoonist. He and I pitched and played center field. I also pitched for our volunteer fire department at Saugus [MA]. In one edition of the Item, Beckworth, who furnished a three-column sketch every evening, showed me, after I had beaten the baseball team of the Boston Police department, as "Our elongated artist, lobbing them over." He pictured me as a telephone pole with my arms extended.

“Continuing my education (In good things) I was given a chance by the Rev. Daniel B. Phelen, District Superintendent of Rockland District, Methodist Church as a pianist and helper of Wall Street Evangelist, Corbett, in special services at Westport, Maine. He appointed me as temporary pastor-preacher at Wiscasset, Maine. I burned many gallons of midnight oil in preparing for the ministry. But I passed four years studies with an average of better than 90%. Later I spent three years in B.U. summer theological school on Mt. Vernon Street, Boston and had an average of over 90%.

“I feel as though I ought to drop all reference to my exploits. But I have always been interested in athletics and sports. At 8 years of age and for several years, Father would visit the Walpole Baseball Park to watch the Boston Club in the National League and I went too. We always sat behind the screen, behind the catcher. I remember to this day many of the old players. I saw the last game caught by [Charlie] Bennett; he was in a train wreck that night [Jan. 10, 1894], on a trip to Chicago, and lost his leg.

“I could fill a long chapter with baseball. I played my last regular games while I was pastor at Washington Avenue, Portland. I had a class of 54 boys, mostly from Deering High School. Many good athletes were in the class including two Maine H.S. Champions, Aaskov, ¼ miler [Clifton Earl Aaskov - was he related to Charles Edward Aaskov who married Herbert's daughter Emma?] and Williamson, High Hurdles. But we had no pitcher, although they could field and bat. The Methodist Churches of Portland and vicinity had a summer field day at Long Island, Casco Bay. The program committee provided for two ball games in the morning and the two winners to play for the prize in the afternoon. Washington Avenue, with me pitching beat South Portland in the morning. Chestnut Street beat Congress Street in the morning. That made an afternoon game for us against Chestnut Street after dinner. We beat them 16-1 which their church secretary never forgot. Nearly 30 years afterward, Foddie and I were on Exchange Street when we met Miss Pierce. After introductions, she said to me. "Mr. Milligan, I have never forgotten the time that you beat my boys in baseball."

“Somewhere I have a book of scraps which show many scores.  While pastor at Oakland and Sidney, I urged Dexter to play ball.  He had an inferiority complex.  “I can’t play as well as the others.”  I believed that he could and got him started at center field.  He was a good batter and could run like a deer.  Hist first game against a rival school an opponent hit a high fly to center.  Dexter ran after it and got it into his hands but dropped it.  I never saw him drop another.

“Dexter was a good checker player also.  We had Lee’s guide and studied on a special game thoroughly.  There was a Champion Checker player living in Titusville, Pa.  He visited Monmouth, Maine and played a group of about thirty from Augusta and neighboring towns.  Dexter and I attended.  One of the games chosen was the game we knew.  The very last opponent of the Champion was Dexter, and had the lookers-on left him alone, he would have won it.  He took the advice of one of the others.  I thought he should have done what he had planned.  He lost.  His own move would have won.

“Dexter was also a good singer.  Both he and Jon sang in our Church choirs.  Dexter often purchased cheap song sheets and knew most of the popular songs.  He was also interested in boxing, wrestling, eating carrots, and raising himself from the floor.  I have stopped him in that exercise after counting 35.  I purchased a set of boxing gloves for the boys while occupying “Kennebec Manor” in Gardiner, during my Oakland ministry.  I have watched Dexter use many a Gardiner High School lad as a punching bag.

“God seemed to bless me in my many pastoral charges.

“At Athens, one cold, stormy night in winter (water used to freeze on kitchen stove at night), wife and I sat in the sitting room surrounded by six little folks. I said as I viewed Christena, Herbertha and Alice with their school books at study, the other playing with their toys, "Wife, I wouldn't swap this pleasure for a million dollars." It was in Athens that I organized my first Boy Scout Troop. I continued as Scoutmaster in every town, till I left Kennebunk.

“At Clinton, I joined the Masonic Lodge [1911] and in 1961 will be entitled to my 50-year gold badge. I started basketball in the Town Hall at Clinton in 1909 or 1910. They have kept going every year since. When we moved to Waldoboro, where little precocious Ruth passed [1913 - 1916] away and Dexter was born [1917], I was invited to return to Clinton to deliver a "Home Coming" sermon and I was special guest on Saturday at a baseball game played by a group of boys that I had previously organized. They presented me with a gold ring when I left Clinton, which I still wear on the 3rd finger on my left hand.

“Last year I was invited as a past minister to Waldoboro, for an anniversary event. I was the eldest clergyman present. Foddie and I enjoyed the day.

“We moved to Easton during the first world war [1914 - 1918]. I became a leader of the Junior Volunteers and had three troops in Easton [Easton is right on the Canadian border, a short distance to Peel/Florenceville, home of Harold Tompkins.  Harold Tompkins and Alice Milligan married in Machias, ME on July 7, 1921.  Vera Tompkins, my mother, was born in Easton, ME on August 29, 1922.], Fort Fairfield and Limestone at the end of the year. In 1920 I had highest rank in the examinations for Enumerator of the 1920 census. It took three weeks in the coldest weather I ever experienced. Herb was night telephone operator there, and attended High School. Floyd Sands, Chris, Bertha and McFarland spent the winter with us. Every member of the family, but wife, had the flu. Floyd had mumps in addition. I joined the I.O.O.F. [International Order of Odd Fellows] and Encampment at Easton.

“From Easton we were assigned to Machias where I entertained the last session of the Old East Maine Conference with Rev. Edwin Holt Hughes presiding. I become leader of a band of 34 fine musicians. We were engaged at several County Fairs and at a large Labor Union gathering at Woodland were one of five bands in the morning parade. Each band provided a noon concert while a committee visited each and made a selection for the best band to get an evening concert job at an extra $150.00. We were the winners. I assisted in training 200 persons for the Cantata of Esther to get funds for entertaining the Methodist Conference session [Lewiston Daily Sun, April 12, 1917 Rev. H.F. Milligan, Statistian]. We held the concert in the Opera House and after the bills were paid we had a balance of more than $394.00.

“During our pastorate in Machias, Emma was visiting a neighbor for a little while after supper. While there it became dark. She started running down a concrete walk, not seeing a wire clothes line, which caught her under the chin and landed her on the walk with a skull concussion. She is our only child that did not continue in High School till graduation. It was at Waldoboro that Herb and Alice both graduated from High School . Herb had always tried to get out of school and start working. I told him "You go to school till 21, if necessary, but you go." After the exercises, the first person off the platform was Herb. He rushed to me more than half way down the hall, weeping, and cried. "Dad, this is the happiest day of my life. I am glad that you made me continue at school."

“We came to Portland from Machias. A Rev. Freeman Dought was Statistician of the Maine Conference and I was Statistician of the East Maine Conference that united in the present Maine Conference the next year. A special committee preparing for the new officials of the United Maine Conference selected me as Statistician of Maine Conference and I was unanimously elected, serving several years before I resigned.

“There are a few things that I ought to say about my retirement from the Methodist ministry at the age of 66 in May 1944, and later entering the employment of Boston and Maine R.R. on July 20, 1944.

“I came to Maine in the spring of 1909. Settled at North Newcastle and attended the Methodist Church at Sheepscot. Received my local preacher's license and was assigned by District Superintendent Rev. D. B. Phelan, to assist Wall Street Evangelist in work at Westport Island and later to take charge of the Church at Wiscasset. My farewell sermon at Wiscasset was on a very stormy night. I preached on the theme, "Love not the world nor the things of the world." It seemed as though the whole town wanted to attend. The auditorium and vestries were crowded. More than 400 persons attended. I had a good time and that spring was appointed to Athens. I enjoyed my labors in every charge as follows: Athens to Clinton, Waldoboro, Easton, Machias, Portland (WCSH Radio), Randolph, Oakland, Woolwich, North and East Vassalboro and retirement, 1944. Most of my pastorate terms were three to six years. I baptized many and received new members in every charge.

“When Effie, my wife passed away at Deaconess Hospital in September, Kennebunk till the following Spring when I was appointed to Woolwich. The new Carleton Bridge had just opened across the Kennebec River from Bath and the Bishop thought it might be a fine chance to get members from Bath. Instead folks on our side of the river went to the larger churches in Bath.

“I had met Mrs. Florence B. M. Weeks at my West Kennebunk Church. She was a good helper there and had been a teacher for several years at city schools in Conn. She had attended the church at New Haven and was a student at Yale. We were married at Kennebunk, on her birthday, December 24, 1941 and she assisted me in my last years as pastor-preacher. She often addressed large gatherings of evening worshipers at Woolwich. We retired to a 6-acre farm in Kennebunk and thus have enjoyed nearly 19 years in our gardens in the summer. We have always had plenty of tomatoes, corn, cukes, and squash, along with melons, carrots, peas and beans. Enough to make one's mouth water.

“After settlement at Cat Mousam Road [Kennebunk, ME - when you drive on the Maine turnpike, you pass under this road.  You can see the name on a bridge as you pass under it.] in 1944, the World War II was on. Railroads in New England were in need of thousands of employees. I knew that I could assist in many ways and finally, with no effort, secured employment as assistant agent, in the ticket office at Kennebunk. I served there a couple of years and when the road sent out word that the Stations at Bradbury, Wescott, Waterboro and Alfred were available for bids, I sent in my bid and got the job. There I learned the freight business the hard way. For eight years and 10 months I served the B&M R.R. in more than 22 stations as spare. My closing appointment was at Farmington, N.H. for over four years. In 1953 I was on my way to my job, when at North Berwick, Maine, at a detour around a new bridge being erected over the tracks, I got a smashing from a passing freight train of 150 cars with one of our large Diesel engines. To make a long story short, I was fed dope by my doctor, for three weeks, then was in Webber Hospital at Biddeford for five days. They sent me home on a Friday noon, saying "There is nothing we can do for him." My own physicians said the same thing. When Foddie assisted me out of the auto, I went to my couch and immediately into a coma. The doctor simply stated on Sunday and Monday, "He will have to pass away." Foddie said, "He is breathing. The trouble is with his head. I will try some brain specialist. If they can do nothing for him at Portland, I will take him to Boston or New York, while he still lives." With the help of Jon and our doctor, arrangements were made with Drs. Maltby and Bidwell, specialists at Portland. On Tuesday evening Sept. 15, 1953, in an ambulance and under police escort I was landed at Portland General Hospital (now Medical Center), and Dr. Bidwell operated from 8 o'clock till midnight with the help of two physicians, two nurses and finally arrived in the rooms below, where Dexter and Florence, Jon and Elizabeth, Bertha, Emma and maybe some others heard him say to Foddie, "He is conscious, and I expect he will live." That was seven years ago. You may thank Foddie (She got that nickname from a little child when she was young and it has never left her). I have often thanked the good Lord for his direction and care.

“I have recorded the item concerning my deliverance from death at the burning of my parents’ greenhouse at Braggville.

“The miracle of my delivery from death in the auto accident at the North Berwick detour, in which my truck was demolished and I got the large clot of blood in my brain, resulting in serious operation at Maine General Hospital seven years ago, is also recorded in this document.

“There are two similar deliveries that should be told, to complete the miracles that have preserved an otherwise healthy manhood. Here they are.

“In 1909 my fourth annual attack by malaria in Cliftondale [section of Saugus, MA] had so weakened my constitution, that our family physician claimed "Nothing can save him this Spring but a long sea voyage or a trip to the mountains for the summer." I went to bed to pass away. My wife and neighbors were reconciled. I lost weight for two months and the pain in every bone and muscle of my body was intense.

“Suddenly one morning, after a visit by the doctor, with his assurance, "There is no hope for him," I was facing the wall on my right side, when a large circle of light as bright as the sun, shone in the diagonal corner of the room, my eyes were open. A voice as audible as any that I had ever heard, said, "Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed for I am thy God. I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness."---Isaiah 41:10.

“I had joined the church and I had believed in Almighty God, in fact I was a greater believer in his miracles than many Christians. I began to weep in the midst of my pains and aches. I said, "AMEN LORD, I believe it." Immediately, I threw my feet to the floor and stood up, without a pain. I dressed and went down stairs to behold my wife weeping and she started to laugh and became hysterical. At first she said, "I thought I was seeing your Ghost." From that day on I told the story abroad. A friend owning an empty home in North Newcastle, Maine offered me the chance, which I accepted to recuperate and get a return of strength in Maine. We arrived, I got a job of scaling lumber in the Maine woods and the privilege later of beginning my career as a Methodist preacher.

“The next bad situation was several months after the death and burial of Effie, my wife. I realized that a successful pastor should be a married man. I had become acquainted with Mrs. Weeks, then a resident of West Kennebunk, a part of my charge. We occasionally went to dinner at Wells or Johnson's Restaurant and on such an occasion stopped at Wells Corner and proceeded to the drug store to get an article for Foddie. Returning (August 8, 1941, the traffic was unusually heavy.), I waited till I thought I had a good chance to cross to my parked car in front of Moulton's Store. As I started an auto from the Cliff House in Ogunquit, speeding by to meet a train at Wells railway station, hit me. I mean banged me good and hard, so that I went over the top and onto the concrete pavement. I was unconscious. Traffic was held up for some time in both directions. A physician near the scene administered dope. Foddie and a State patrolman escorted me to the hospital at Biddeford and I was bandaged up in many ways. In three weeks, I was able to go to Foddie's home for treatment and care. I employed Mr. Homer Waterhouse as attorney and sued the Cliff House for $5,000.00. The jury verdict was for a sum of over $3,300.00 which the Cliff House insurance agency refused, on the grounds that I had agreed with their agent that I was partly to blame. (My mistake.) An appeal to the Supreme Court granted me the privilege of a new trial but nothing more. My attorney said the story would be the same and it would be of no value. We dropped it. Aside from the accident events, I have no recollection of calling a physician for any ailment to me, with one exception, when I was in bed for two days at Machias with bronchitis. Thank the Lord for His deliveries and wonderful care. I once believed the promise, "No evil shall befall thee nor plague come near thy dwelling."

“I have taken up a lot of space in saying very little, so, why continue rambling along? Some day we may say more in a real book. My radio experiences at WCSH for nearly three years while pastor at Washington Avenue, could fill a good sized book by itself. So I will just say "The Lord Bless You All" and proceed to enter the lists of little folks.”

Mumblings (1966 Update)

Introduction

“In this year, 1966, it is the wish of my father, Reverend Herbert F. Milligan, that his book, printed in 1960—called Mumblings be brought up to date for purposes of giving to each member of the family a record of those who are living, where they are living and what they are doing.

“Pop” is in his 89^th year.  He is active, mentally and physically, despite his infirmities which are deafness and only partial sight.

“Most of his life has been spent in Maine and in church work.  He retired from the ministry when he was 65, but still preaches a pretty good sermon from his rocker on the farm porch at Cat Mousam Road in Kennebunk, Maine.

“His idea for starting this second edition developed in his garden this summer and he has been thinking about it and talking about it ever since.  He has typed many pages of information, some of which will follow this introduction.

“He has requested that a portion of Shakespeare, relative to life being a stage and men and women but the players on it, be quoted, for this would be his present interpretation of life and yet he would combine his strong feeling of divine power and leadership as being an essential part of life.

“Prayer has been a constant source of strength and help to Pop and I am sure that he has needed the strength gained from it many times over the years; raising his large family and coping with the church problems and making ends meet.

“I wish it were possible to put down all the stories that I have heard other members of the family tell about those days in Machias and Easton and Waldoboro and those early charges when everything was horse power and manpower and when the gas engine was jacked up on the shed floor for warmer weather.

“I have a number of short stories that you may find of interest and perhaps slightly humorous and it may give you a little insight into this man who, to some of you, is Gramp, Great Gramp or even Great, Great Gramp.

“When he was a young man in Massachusetts, he had his own orchestra and was a talented musician, able to play most of the instruments; he worked at various phases of newspaper work and was, at one time, a chalker in the stock broker’s office where he lived.  He was quite an athlete and has told many stories about “toe and heeling”.  This was one of the most grueling of races when you consider that in those races a man would walk a mile in something like seven minutes without running.

“He has always continued his interest in sports, even after many financial flops such as the time he started the twilight baseball league in Gardiner (ME) and he had his own team from Randolph, for which he furnished the bats, balls, mitts, etc.  The theory, of course, was that people would pay to see the games and Pop would get the money back.  But it was all theory.  Boys would find the balls and run all the way home.  Pop would start the game with a dozen and end up with two dirty ones, if he was lucky.  But he enjoyed it and he felt that this was how he could reach the boys of the church.  He was way ahead of his time.

“Pop was watched over by a power greater than himself.  He prayed constantly and I am sure that there was a listener, for some of his driving was not safe, certainly.

“One day on his way from Oakland to Sidney, with the roads packed high with snow and with Pop trying to make time over the icy roads, I recall he turned his Peerless over a complete revolution and ended up with the car on its wheels and heading back toward Oakland.  The only outward proof of the incident was the dent in Pop’s derby hat.

“I also recall his telling, just a few years ago, “I have had thirteen accidents in the last two years and I wasn’t responsible for one of them.”  At the time he was trying to get his insurance renewed on his truck.  Then, of course, many of you remember that he ran across a railroad track one morning and he thought that the man who held up his hand to stop him was shielding his eyes from the sun.  The train hit the back of the truck, put it up over a banking and, although Pop later suffered from a blood clot on the brain which was successfully operated on, he actually walked away from the accident.

“I could go on for pages, but will not.  I will end this introduction by simply saying that it is his wish that each of us bear proudly his heritage; work had for ourselves and families and pass on to each new generation the basic principles of good living.  This should be based on a firm religious foundation, with a strong individual feeling for right, realizing that life is short and that the most important things we do are those things which do for others.”

 

Some Chips from the Old Block

“We, the Herbert F. Milligan family, came to Maine from Massachusetts.  We had little or no capital, but plenty of ambition to make good.  We had no job nor promise of anything from anybody.  We did have a couple of axes and there were trees to be cut in the woodlands of northern Maine.  I did have enough cash to purchase several barrels of potatoes and a few groceries.  I shortly took a job of scaling lumber for three dollars a per week.  The family attended Sunday services by walking to the Methodist Church in Sheepscot, two miles away.  We owned nothing in the way of transportation.  The older children accompanied me occasionally and we feared nothing.

“After a few months of working in the woods, my weekly check was returned from the grocer’s bank marked, “No Good”.

“I wanted to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ.  I attended a meeting of the quarterly conference of the church with Supt. D.B. Phelan in what was then the Eastern Maine Conference.  I received a license to preach and helped Wall Street Evangelist Corbett at Westport Island by playing the piano and leading the singing.   We had some very interesting experiences for the next three weeks and I recall jumping to the wharf from the Boothbay Harbor steamer which was on its way from Wiscasset down the Sheepscot River and landing on the wharf beside my case which I had thrown ahead.  I soon became known as the Woodchopper Preacher.  Later, the superintendent appointed me as the preacher for the winter of 1909-1910 at Athens, Maine.  It was my chance and with the help of God I made good as a preacher.  I added a few nearby sections as preaching points.  Among them Cornville, West Athens and Brighton.  All were successfully attended on appointed dates and church attendance, if I may say so, was increased.  It was said that I was a “good visiting preacher and steadily faithful”.  One of my joys of these early years was in serving as first statistician of the new Maine conference, while serving as pastor of the Machias church.

“I could fill this with at least 300 pages of interesting tales of by-gone days.  I could tell you of the time I was a member of the greeting party for the arrival of the great American, Charles Lindbergh, who had flown solo from this country to Paris and had returned to this country to tell his story.  Or, I could tell about my Bible Half Hour over WCSH and of helping Howard O. Hough [1926] conduct his First Radio Parish Church in Portland.

“Of course I could relate the trials and tribulations of a country minister; of the pressures of raising a large family, of the happiness that my grandchildren have brought me.  I could tell about the food showers that helped us through those long winters in the towns where, during the harder times, people had more potatoes and cabbage than money.

“My first wife, Effie Louise Robbins, the mother of my children, was great at making over one child’s clothes to fit the next and dad a wonderful way with corned beef hash.  She was also the best pie and bread maker and gave our children a good, healthy start.

“My strength through life has come from prayer and the scriptures.  I have my favorite passages which I recite whenever I can find a listener and without a listener I recite them to myself, daily.  “The Lord is my strength and my salvation.”

“My Mumblings are a means of communication to those of you who are living now and to those who will come later.  If they help in any way to strengthen one of you, they will have served a good purpose.

“Through the past twenty-five years, my second wife, Florence Weeks Milligan, fondly called Foddie, by members of the family, has kept me alive with tender care and constant attention.  Her nursing and teaching experience of years gone by has helped greatly in this.

“As I enjoy my porch and gaze down Cat Mousam Road and look at the fields and the children playing in the distance and watch our dog, Sally, wandering through the yard, I think of the next planting and the next harvest and pray that I may enjoy the new seasons which will unfold with 1967."

[Reverend Herbert F. Milligan died July 18, 1970 at Biddeford, Maine.]

Below are two family reunion pictures.