By Isabel Morse Maresh
June 25, 1992
I appreciate the comments of those who enjoy reading this column. Thanks go out to those few who have sent suggestions to write about. The suggestions are good, but there is sometimes not enough data or a picture to do a column. If you have early newspapers or scrapbooks, they would be very helpful.
It is probably time the "Belmont Mayor of Blacksheep Corner Farm" is honored. Perhaps you saw the teenager in the Journal in April with the caption "Happy Birthday, Izzy" or the recent small oval picture of a young couple with the caption "Happy Anniversary, Izzy, 39 years." Both of these pictures were secretly sneaked out of albums and into the Journal by none other than my "Lovey!"
The culprit who did these little deeds was born in Natick, Mass., many, many years ago. He came to Searsmont in 1951, when he and I were both 16 years of age. He often sings the old song, "We were 16, only 16..." A group of high school teenage girls were sitting on the steps of Abbott houses, across from Crosby High School on a beautiful fall day in 1951, when Bashful Bob strolled into my life. Little did I know that day that he would be there for a lifetime.
At that time, The Culprit drove a 1931 Model A Ford coupe convertible, which I believe is still around town, a car that his father had found in Massachusetts for $40. Whenever I saw him in that car, with a following of teenage girls and guys, my heart did a flip-flop. All these years later, he still has that effect on me. As I write this, we have been married 39 years this month. I graduated from Crosby High 40 years ago, in 1952 (in the days when the building had no spores!), and took a job in the office of Belfast Shoe Co. on High Street. The Belmont Mayor had a job on a local farm earning $11 weekly and going to school, to pay his board and support his car. His nieces thought it a great treat to ride in the Model A, and he allowed them to pick up cans and bottles roadside to buy gas, about 50 cents a worth at a time.
The Belmont Mayor has become a legend in his time, working hard to support his large family in his independent lifestyle. He has made many friends in his lifetime, as an outspoken witty mill man. He has raised seven children and now has fifteen grandchildren [1992].
What can be said to describe a man of few words? This is my tribute and "gotcha babe" to the faithful companion who has shared my life through the good times, as well as those which were over thorny paths, over the mountains, as well as in the valleys. To my mate which quiet faith in God and steady hand has made life interesting and exciting.
Again I write one of my favorite misquotes, "Grow old with me my love, the best is yet to be!" I love you.
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