Why Eastport?
September 10th was a great day. The book launch for A Good Place to Turn Around was held at the beautiful Peavey Memorial Library in Eastport, Maine, and even though by the calendar, this was "off-season", you couldn't tell by the number of people who attended. I gave a little chat about the premise of the book, as well as some behind-the-scenes information, then wrapped up the event with a question-and-answer period. During this time, I was asked the one question I'm most often asked – "Why Eastport?"
It's a fair question. Why in the world would a retired teacher from Pennsylvania, who'd only been in the city once, choose Eastport as the setting for an entire book series? Believe me, I've asked myself that same question! There's a short answer, and an interesting answer. I'll give you both.
When I started writing Iris and Mo, one of the first questions I asked myself was, "Where is Iris going?". The answer came immediately, "Eastport". I remembered visiting there with my family a dozen years earlier, and I thought, "Yes, that could be a fun place to explore." That's the short answer.
The interesting answer is what happened next. The first thing that happened was a movie began to play in my head. A full-blown technicolor, wide-screen, no glitch in the streaming movie that starred everything my family had done while in Eastport all those years ago. Never experienced that before. The next thing that happened was several return trips to Eastport - for research, for book events, and for ‘just because’. With each trip, I gained a deeper understanding of this amazing place and its people.
Eastporters know the meaning of the word community. To survive as they have through economic downturns, weather-related disasters, and the challenges of living in a place so remote, they need the support of each other. It’s vital and it’s played out on a regular basis. It's not unusual for a bartender to check on a patron when he doesn't show up for his 4:00pm drink, or for several customers to check on someone else when they haven't pulled up a stool at the WaCo for breakfast. It's normal for neighbors to check on each other during snow storms, or other nasty weather events, or just because it's Friday. Storm cookies being served to police officers, or fire fighters, or volunteers, is a common event. And handshakes, smiling faces, and offers of "How can I help?" to visiting PFAs are genuine actions, not put-ons for the tourists.
My cousin once said my stories are a love-letter to the town. I believe she’s right. There's so much to love about Eastport. I long to hear the Cherry Island foghorn, and despite their obnoxiousness at times, the squawking of gulls. I want to smell the scent of the sea roses that line the water walkway, and feel the breeze off the bay. I can’t wait to see another codfish relay race, or firemen’s muster, or Navy ship pulling into the pier. Even now, I wish I were in the third booth at the WaCo Diner at 7:10am, notebook and pen ready, as I listen for the sound of men’s voices, then am entertained for the next hour as I listen to conversations around me fueled by coffee and stories, some of which were true. I want to watch the sunrise elbow the night out of the way, and paint the sky pink, and purple, and blue, and I want to see the glow of the streetlights on the pavement after the stores have closed at the end of the day as the city takes its respite for the night.
Why Eastport? It’s a town I’ve come to love. I love the people. And I love what it represents–kindness, and devotion, and a desire to take care of the resources God has blessed them with. Visit them. You'll understand, and you'll love Eastport too.
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