Neil Michaud … Last Survivor of ‘The Boys of ‘32’

In April of this year (2007), I and others attended the organized destruction of Cunningham School, an event which brought a few woeful months to many and, to a few, a couple of months of photographic opportunities. I fell into both departments. As the event progressed from back to front, I waited impatiently for the Grim Reaper to claw its way to the front so that the dreadful destruction could come to an end and my life would again get going on a regular basis; I scheduled much of my day around the event … didn’t want to miss one brick falling like Newton’s apple. As the Claw began to eat away at the northeast corner where, in 1932, the town built its first gymnasium (the second, larger gym on the south side was built in 1939), I was flooded with memories of my school days there in the sixth-, seventh- and eighth-grades from the fall of 1953 to the spring of 1956. I recalled my gym periods, under the supervision of Ralph Hardy, playing volleyball and a little basketball. The newer, larger gym was apparently reserved for more official activities.
There were two Claws of Mass Destruction (Grim Reapers), one for the east side and one for the west side of the old school. I vacillated from one side to another trying hard not to miss any earth-shaking photo. As the Claw chewed at the area where the original gym was, I spied an old (only in a manner of speaking, mind you) classmate of mine parked on Third Street. She was accompanied by her father to view the destruction. I was a little thunder-struck because I knew full well the coincidence; her father was the last survivor of the great Presque Isle basketball team of 1932 who had snatched the gold ring by winning the only boys’ State Championship ever. Actually, Neil Michaud’s daughter, Barb, and I had talked about doing a piece for the paper about her father, but I had dragged my feet on the project. But, here we were, together, as by divine proclamation, viewing, together, the wrecking of the very place the “Boys of ‘32” practiced and plied their trade. Yes, I was in the right place at the right time. It was time to write the piece for the paper about Neil for there he was, viewing the destruction, he, too, being flooded with old, old memories of his days with the team. It was only a matter of hours that the destruction would be complete. I took a picture of Neil sitting on the passenger’s side and thought to myself how lucky I was to be in the right place at the right time.
Neil, now 93, had been part of the ’31 team, which had harvested the Eastern Maine Championship, but had failed to capture the State Championship. That team, however, snatched the State Championship the next year and since, no PIHS team has repeated that top rung of schoolboy-basketball endeavor. He wasn’t on the first five, as we called it way back; that was reserved for perhaps better players, but without the so-called bench players, there would be no team, no practice, no games and certainly no championships. Those first five – Sweetser, Shaw, Clark, Glidden and Burnett – were consummate team players and survived two straight years as the starting five … unparalleled in the history of local schoolboy basketball. In fact, in that final game in the spring of ’32 for the State Championship, only that first five played the entire game.
Neil graduated from high school that year. Two years later he got into the truck-brokerage business with an office on Academy Street beside the Canadian Railroad tracks. Neil had, in fact, established the very first truck-brokerage business in the state of Maine. But, early in the 1960s, because of the all-night parking of trucks near Neil’s office, Chief Watson Burlock asked if he’d consider moving the office a bit out into the country. Neil, readily agreed, being the gentleman he was and remains as such, and removed to the Houlton Road where sleepers wouldn’t be bothered by the noise of the trucks. His office building went with him and to this day is being utilized as a bathhouse for his daughter and son-in-law’s camping business on the Houlton Road.
In 1987, Neil and his wife, Toni, celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. They were married in 1937 in the Holy Rosary Catholic Church in Caribou. The next year, the Michauds moved into their home on Cedar Street. Their one daughter, Barbara, was born in 1942, graduated from high school in 1960, and is married to Bob Kinney. Toni passed on several years ago. Neil was predeceased by five brothers (including Harry and Leon) and four sisters. All Michaud children were born in Presque Isle.
I told you that I had been invited to interview Neil at the pleasure of his daughter (and Neil, too). At the end of the hour or so, he informed us that his basketball uniform, now 75-years old, survives and hangs in his closet. He instructed Barb where to find it and, after a minute or two, presented his extremely well-preserved 1932 high school basketball uniform which he wore during that famous game in 1932. I was flabbergasted! To this moment, I’m not sure that his daughter had ever laid eyes on that uniform. It appeared to have been dry-cleaned and, upon close scrutiny, showed no moth holes, perfect condition after all those years. Amazing … simply amazing! And just one more item before I close: I’d like very much to thank Neil for the memories and a chance to share those memories with readers of The Star-Herald.
In my next and final installment, I’ll discuss, to some extent, the lives of several of the other members of the “Boys of ’32.” The next few installments on the history of basketball in Presque Isle will be presented by Jim Carter who is well versed in the more “modern” history of local basketball. Stay tuned and learn, perhaps, more than you bargained for. Don’t hesitate to contact the paper by writing a letter to the editor with your recollections of local basketball. Thanks for reading.