How lucky we are

    The recent accident on the railroad trestle between Florence Ave and Smyrna Street dredged up some old memories as told to me by Del Sweenor and Kay Faulkner. When we were in grade school on Bowdoin Street somewhere between the ages of 8 and 11, we had a classmate named Teddy Starkey. He lived on Smyrna Street. Teddy was taking his father’s lunch to him at the B&A station and when he was crossing the trestle, a motor car came along up the track.
    The man hollered for him to stand still and they would go slow, so he could hang on to the motor car and get by. His first thought was to jump down on the cement pier. It was slippery and his feet slipped out and he fell into the water. He went to the bottom and he had hands full of dirt.
    They (rescuers) got to him quick. My cousin, Hillis Cunliffe was a Boy Scout leader and worked on him a long time. He was sad when he saw Teddy wasn’t going to make it.
    It was a sad day at Bowdoin Street School. Teddy was a nice boy and was well liked. None of us wanted to go to school that day, but we knew we had to go. Everybody felt awful bad. We all wanted to stay home, but our mothers wouldn’t let us.
Mark Jackins
Houlton