It was in early August of 1903, after numerous dates with Margaret, that the Canadian finally garnered enough courage to ask the beautiful girl from Glenburn to be his wife. She accepted his proposal and they planned to marry in June of the following year. But as so often happens, fate stepped in and forced the young couple to move up the wedding date; and instead of a traditional June wedding, they were married on January 21st, 1904, five months after he proposed.
“Actually, I’m glad it worked out this way,” he told Margaret after learning that she was with child. “I’m so sick of living in that boarding house; I was starting to climb the walls.”
And it was no wonder; despite the breathtaking river view he had, almost five years of living in his cramped little room was more than most men would be willing to put up with.
“If not for my determination to save money,” Murdock stated,” I’da moved out of that tiny hellhole long ago.”
With Margaret pregnant and no longer able to work, the frugal young couple decided to rent an inexpensive place in Bangor. They tried to find a home on the east side, close to Murdock’s work, but there were no suitable places available. So, after looking at a few homes, they decided to rent a small house on Hammond Street, on the west side of the Kenduskeag Stream, about a mile-and-a-half from the Bangor Freight Station. It was there, on February 27th, 1904, that they had their first child: Lillian Edith Haley.
The newlyweds worked hard and continued to live frugally, saving money until they could afford to buy their own home in the country. And that meant they had to limit their entertainment to things that would not be a severe drain on their pocketbook. Usually that entailed walking hand-in-hand along Hammond Street seeking that entertainment, to what most referred to as ‘downtown Bangor’. The center of the downtown area was marked by its busy four-way intersection of Main, Central, Hammond, and State Streets: more commonly known as West Market Square. Once downtown, the Haleys would usually go window shopping along Main, and then take Water Street to Broad and Front Streets for a stroll along the quarter-mile waterfront. The latter was easily their favorite thing to do because they could leisurely sit and watch a variety of unique sailing boats, steamboats and barges, all carefully navigating the busy Penobscot.
The Haleys particularly enjoyed seeing off the large passenger ships of the prosperous Eastern Steamship fleet—commonly called the Boston Boats and logically named the City of Bangor, the City of Belfast, and the City of Rockland—all heading to important coastal towns like Bar Harbor, Eastport, Belfast, Searsport, Camden, Rockland, Portland, and, of course, Boston. Indeed, at times those ships even ventured as far south as New York City and Philadelphia.
“Someday, when we can afford it, I want to visit Philadelphia to see Constitution Hall and the Liberty Bell,” Murdock told his new wife. “Or maybe to Washington DC to see the White House. I’d give my eyetooth to meet Teddy Roosevelt in person. He’s one President I really admire. From what I’ve heard he’s a man’s man.”
Until that time came, the young couple took great pleasure in watching those magnificent wayfaring vessels leaving port with mostly well-off and typically eccentric people who, unlike the Haleys, could easily afford to pay the lofty $3.50 fare for a luxurious 16-hour trip to Boston. Even if they were not acquainted with anyone making those trips—and usually they were not—just seeing the motley group gave them plenty to talk and joke about.
Though the Haleys couldn’t afford the luxury of a long cruise, they could do what to them was the next best thing. Every now and then they would hop on the Bon Ton ferry in Bangor to visit neighboring Brewer, because on occasion even they were able to afford the one-penny-per-person fare to ride the miniature passenger boats that were said to be the smallest steamships in the world. And when they could afford it, the two would take in a show at the Bangor Opera House on Main Street, or maybe even splurge once a month and have dinner in one of the many fine restaurants there. As you can surmise, and as its name clearly implies, Main Street was the main street in Bangor, at least for entertainment and shopping purposes. As such, the Haleys could be seen walking on that street almost every day without fail. All in all the young couple enjoyed the time they spent together blissfully strolling along Main Street, and through other parts of the downtown area, before making their way to the scenic waterfront.
—1—
In early March of 1904 Murdock received good news from home.
“I got a letter from my brother today, Maggie.”
“Which one?” she asked.
“Harry.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense; what did he have to say?”
“He’s coming to Bangor.”
“He is? That’s great news, Murdy. He’s your favorite brother, isn’t he?”
“Yup.”
“How long is he gonna stay?”
“It’s hard to say with Harry; he’s the restless type, not one to stay in a place for too long. I hope he can stay with us for a while this time though.”
“Well, I’ll do my best to make him at home, and maybe he’ll want to stick around for a while.”
“Maybe. We’ll see. Regardless, it’ll be good to see him, even if just for a short time.”
When the end of March came, so did Harry. Murdock and his brother spent as much time as they could together getting caught up on each other’s lives. And when Murdock was working, Margaret kept Harry entertained with her stories of Maine, and Harry kept Margaret laughing with his stories of Canada. As a result, the two became great friends. As much as she enjoyed listening to Harry’s stories, she enjoyed his interaction with Murdy even more, especially when they played Cribbage. The first night they played a game was the most amusing. She sat in her rocking chair holding Lillian and watched with interest as they began their first game.
“Did I tell you that Harry taught me how to play Cribbage, Maggie?” Murdock asked, as he shuffled the deck and began to deal.
“Is that right? Well, you did a real good job, Harry. I can’t for the life of me seem to beat Murdy at Cribbage,” Margaret responded.
“Thanks for the compliment, Maggie, but my teaching ability has nothing to do with that,” he said while turning away from Murdock to wink and smile at Margaret. “Murdy’s been cheating at Cribbage all his life. Either that, or he’s the luckiest so-and-so I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t you believe a word he says, Maggie,” Murdock said. “Some people have a talent for Cribbage, and I just happen to be one of them.”
“Is that so, little brother?” Harry responded. “Maggie, I think it’s time to pull out the high boots. It’s getting a little deep in here now, don’t you think?”
Margaret burst out laughing, saying: “It always gets a lot deep in here when Murdy plays Cribbage. But I suspect you know that already.”
“Oh yeah,” he agreed. “That’s for darn sure.”
Then the three of them broke into laughter, with Margaret laughing hardest of all.
Harry stayed with his brother for almost two weeks and then left for home. Before he did, he said his good-byes to the Haleys.
“I’m gonna miss you, Maggie. And little Lillian too.”
“And, I’ll miss you, Harry. Take care. And don’t forget: You’re welcome back, anytime.”
“That’s right, big brother,” Murdock said. “Anytime.”
“Thanks, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
When Murdock shook his brother’s hand goodbye, he felt depressed. He watched his older brother walking away and turned to Margaret.
“Maggie, I have the strangest feeling; something tells me I’m never gonna see Harry again.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Murdy. He’ll be back. And someday you’ll get to see the rest of your family too.”
“I sure hope so. I miss ‘em somethin’ terrible. More than I let on. But it’s a long ways to Basswood Ridge—and lots of money too.”
—2—
It was April 19th, 1906, and Margaret joined Murdock and 2-year-old Lillian at the kitchen table for breakfast in their Hammond Street apartment. As usual, Margaret had fetched the morning paper from the outside steps, where the paperboy had left it, and placed it on the table next to Murdock. He picked it up, intending to read the sports section, but something on the front page caught his eye.
“Look here, Maggie,” he said. “San Francisco had a huge earthquake yesterday. The center was only two miles from the city, on the San Andreas Fault.”
“Was it bad?” Margaret asked.
“I’ll say! Couldn’t be worse. It was a 7.9 quake, and the city was destroyed, not only by the quake but by numerous fires.”
“Oh, that’s awful. How many were hurt?”
“It says here that over a thousand were killed and a lot more are missing.”
“My God!” Margaret said. “What a shame. To think, Mae’s been wanting to move to California because of the weather, but I wonder if she’ll still want to after she hears what happened.”
“Well, I don’t know about her,” Murdock replied, “but I’m perfectly happy here in Maine; it may be cold, but at least the grounds don’t open up spontaneously. I have no desire to fall into the ground until I’m deceased, and I’m not even looking forward to it then.”
“Nor am I,” Margaret laughed.
—3—
On November 5th, 1907, almost four years after marrying, the Haleys had their second child: Arlene Mae Haley. As a result, the young couple went looking for a larger house in which to raise their slowly expanding family. Finding housing in the booming city of Bangor was still no easy matter; however, they eventually found a suitable home to rent. This time it was located on the east side of the Kenduskeag, or “on the more scenic side of town,” as Margaret would say; a fact that was borne out in the naming of the streets beyond Broadway. Most of them were named after trees indigenous to the area, or after things that also conjured up images of scenic beauty. Of course, there were exceptions.
“It’s just my luck to be stuck on a dead-end street named Otis,” Margaret joked.
The Haleys’ new home on Otis Street wasn’t as big as they had hoped for, but it was big enough to accommodate a second child; and, it was only a mile from the Bangor Freight Station. Although its proximity to Murdock’s place of employment was a particularly good reason the Haleys liked their new home, it was far from the only one. Another was its proximity to Chapin Park: a beautiful recreational park only a half-mile up State Street from the Haley home, a little less than halfway between Otis and downtown Bangor. Or, as Margaret was prone to say: “It’s only a hop, skip and a jump from here.” Whereas, Murdock’s favorite expression for not far was: “It’s only a stone’s throw away.”
Even though the park itself wasn’t right on State Street, it wasn’t far off it either, being separated from that street by a small elementary school named after President Abraham Lincoln that the Haley children would likely attend. The day they moved in, the Haleys decided to journey to downtown Bangor. As they began walking hand-in-hand along State Street they first came to Fruit Street, then Pearl, Fern, Birch and Maple Streets. Walking another block they came to Parkview Avenue; and just up ahead was Palm Street, where the small school and park were located.
“Murdy, let’s take a look at the park,” Margaret said, upon coming to Palm Street.
“Oh-kee-doak,” he replied. So they turned right onto Palm and he quipped: “Whoever named this street must’ah been a dreamer; you’d hav’ta hunt long and hard to find a palm tree in Maine.”
Margaret laughed and said: “I suppose so, but it doesn’t hurt to dream every now and again. Speaking of dreams, did I tell you that Maude is getting married in December?”
“You don’t say!” he said.
“Yeah, and to top it off she’s gonna be living right next door to Mae on Broadway, so now I can kill two birds with one stone: When I go to visit Mae, I can visit with Maude too.”
“That’s great!” he said. “Let’s hope Maude has a long and happy marriage.”
After walking only 100 feet on Palm Street, the Haleys were taken by surprise when it abruptly ended.
“Whoa, that’s the shortest street I’ve ever seen,” Murdock observed.
After walking passed the school, they came to Chapin Park. The Haleys strolled 600 feet to the far side of the park and came upon Coombs Street, which was parallel to State Street and connected Parkview Avenue to Forest Avenue. Across Coombs they saw a fairly scenic, peaceful-looking street. It ran between and parallel to the two avenues, getting its start near the center of Coombs and ending at Stillwater Avenue: a 11-mile road connecting Broadway to downtown Old Town. The Haleys were surprised to see that this street was also named Palm.
“Guess Palm’s a casualty of this park and the school,” Murdock speculated.
Indeed it was. Before the school and park were built, Palm connected State Street directly to Stillwater Avenue, but that fact didn’t prevent the city from building the park right smack in the middle of it.
“This place is perfect,” Margaret said while walking back through the park. “When Arlene’s a little older she can play in that sandbox over there, and Lillian will be able to play on the swings and slides next to it. One of those green benches near the flower garden will be the perfect place for me to keep a close eye on the both of them; and to rest my old bones.”
From that time on the young couple spent hours at Chapin Park, often sitting on the park benches, holding Arlene and watching Lillian play with the other children. Margaret particularly liked to sit and admire eye-pleasing flowers that were generously sprinkled throughout the park. You could say that flowers were Margaret’s passion; after moving to Otis she planted all kinds of flowers in red clay pots that sat outside on her doorsteps, and in rectangular wooden boxes that were attached to the windowsills of their house. Sprinkled here and there on the property were various types of colorful flowers that Margaret also planted not long after moving there. In fact, Murdock was often heard kidding his wife about her passion for flowers.
“Any time I see a hole in the ground, or an empty container, I bet Lillian that within a day or two there will be flowers growing out of it, if you have anything to say about it.”
“Darn right,” Margaret bragged. “In fact, someday, when we finally get our own place, I’m gonna have a huge flower garden. I had a small one in Glenburn, but I’ve always wanted a large one; and, by the time I got done, it would be the most beautiful garden in the State of Maine, if not New England.”
“No doubt it would,” Murdock laughed. “In the meantime you’ll hav’ta content yourself with these. While we’re talking about it, dear, anything else you want when we get our own home?”
“Well, now that you mention it, sweety, I’ve always dreamed about having my own porch swing, facing the flower garden of course, so I can sit outside in the fresh air and enjoy my beautiful flowers while swinging with my children.”
“Just your children?” Murdock seemed puzzled.
“Well, maybe the neighbors; when they visit,” Margaret joked.
“Hey, how about me?” he asked, feigning enormous disappointment.
“Oh, I almost forgot about you,” she teased. “I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to share my swing with you on occasion, if you behave yourself.”
“That’s awful nice of you, Maggie. I’ll try.”
“Think nothing of it, dear. After all, I do let you share the park bench with me, don’t I?”
Almost every day during the summer months, Margaret walked to Chapin Park and waited for Murdock to show up after work. They would sit serenely on a park bench, playing with baby Arlene and talking about the day’s happenings, while Lillian played contently on the nearby swings. After typically spending a half-hour there, the Haleys made the half-mile trek home, with Murdock carrying the baby, arriving in time for Margaret to ready supper while her husband read the paper to catch up on world events and to see how the Boston Pilgrims were doing. Then they would talk about what he read, and about neighborhood gossip that Margaret had heard. After supper they often played a game of Cribbage while Lillian watched and laughed at the two of them teasing each other. To many, their daily routine might have seemed dull, yet to the Haleys—because of the stories and laughter they shared—their life was anything but.
—4—
On April 1st of 1909 Murdock was looking forward to the beginning of the baseball season.
“I think the Pilgrims can win it all this season,” he told Margaret, when she was serving supper.
“Don’t you mean the Red Sox, dear?”
“Oh, that’s right. Even though it’s been a year since they were renamed, I still can’t get used to it, especially after calling them the Pilgrims all these years. Regardless, they improved a lot last year, and they should be even better this year.”
“I hope you’re right, Murdy,” Margaret said. “For your sake.”
In July of 1909 Margaret became pregnant again and the Haleys were once again in need of a larger place to live. After scouring the rental sections of the daily newspaper nearly every day, they finally found a home on Palm Street that was, as far as they were concerned, perfect for a family of five.
“The price is reasonable, its size is more than adequate, and the best part is: it’s nearly as close to Chapin Park and the Freight Station as our place on Otis is,” Murdock told his wife when they were done looking at it.
“Well then, what are we waiting for; let’s rent it,” she said.
Margaret was also sold on the Palm Street house, but for other reasons. First of all, she took a liking to the neighborhood, not just because it was peaceful and scenic, but because the elderly nextdoor neighbor Mrs. Murphy was as friendly as could be, and she was almost as passionate as Margaret when it came to flowers. Another reason that she and Murdock liked the new house was because it was “just a stones throw” from the school her kids would likely be attending.
“It’s roughly three-quarters of a mile,” Murdock informed his wife.
That tidbit more than clinched the Haleys’ decision to move to Palm Street. Their new home was at the far end of Palm, just a few feet from Stillwater Avenue, and the small school on State Street—the Abraham Lincoln Elementary School—was at the other end, just beyond Chapin Park. Another advantage of their new location was that the park was only three blocks from Judy’s, and walking to downtown Bangor would be “a piece of cake” according to Murdock. Although the Haleys made the trek downtown for the purpose of seeking out entertainment sources, the walk was quite entertaining in itself, for both the parents and the children alike, thanks to the many small novelty shops along State Street—one on nearly every corner and sometimes in between—with owners who would stand outside trying to entice patrons inside using charm and witticism that only a native Mainer would likely understand.
The Eagle’s Nest at the corner of Pine and State, just a block past Judy’s, was Margaret’s favorite shop. The Haley children noticed that their parents liked to engage the genial merchants in spicy, good-humored banter. Indeed, they realized that their parents and the shopkeepers actually reveled in playing the barter game. It was clear that the parents enjoyed their attempts to ‘talk down’ the shop owner’s prices, at times even buying a small inexpensive item or two from them, if only in some small way to help keep their newly made friends in the black. And similarly, it was obvious from the smiles on their faces that the shop owners relished haggling with their parents just as much. Usually, however, after playfully haggling for a while, Murdock would say, “It’s wicked rich for my blood,” and then be on his way to downtown Bangor, leaving the merchants shaking their heads and laughing at the same time.
But haggling with the merchants was not the only obstacle the Haleys faced on their walk to the downtown area. Sometimes walking down the steepest hill on State Street was even more challenging, especially during the winter when the sidewalk, slippery with snow and ice, caused many a bruised feeling, and oftentimes a bruised posterior. As might be expected, the challenging hill also caused many a curse word to escape unexpectedly from the mouths of even the most refined, most churchgoing people. That hill was the one Murdock walked on his first day in Bangor, and with Margaret the first day they met, the one he now jokingly referred to as “Purgatory Hill,” because as he was known to say: “It was worse than hell walking up it.”