Since the early 1800s, my father's family has ranched and farmed in central Texas back when it was known as the Mexican State of Coahulia y Tejas. Born in Pecos in 1965, I lived
in Texas until I was four years old. After my parents separated, my mother moved my sister and me to Mississippi where we lived in places like Pascagoula, Kreole, and Moss
Point. Though my family life was a bit unsettled around that time, I have fond memories of fragrant pine woods, meandering creeks, muddy river deltas, and shadowy bayous. Around
eight years old, my sister and I were moved to Maine where my mother was born and raised. As a boy, it didn't take many excursions into the Maine wilds before my love of the
outdoors became a lifelong passion.
Even today, differences between northern and southern cultures are apparent. At the Cobb Family Homestead in Blue Ridge, the kitchen walls are still unfinished when during the
Civil War, scarce board lumber was sacrificed to build coffins for Confederate dead. In Dedham Maine, the mossy graves of fallen Union kin can be found in the Mann Family
Cemetery. I suppose by birthright I could lay claim to being both a Mainer and a Texan. However, given my mother’s deep familial Maine roots, which go back many generations, and
having lived and worked in Maine for most of my life, except for three years in the Army, I've always considered myself a Mainer. In fact, I get real prickly when referred to as a
Transplant or From Away. Just saying...
My family and I live in Holden and enjoy many outdoor pursuits, including fishing, hiking, boating, camping, and the occasional trip when my spouse can drag me across state lines.
Like it or not, Maine is stuck with me.
Deer Isle Maine