The revenue cutter lay at anchor in the harbor with almost no one aboard. Her skipper died the day before from a heart attack. Most of her crew was ashore on leave, yucking it up at the local taverns.
They’d stood in knee-deep ocean water for most of that December night. It was a miracle they’d survived.
Due to his ruthless legislative tactics, his political opponents called him “Czar Reed.” They meant it as an insult but Reed liked the nickname just fine.
In 1860, he traded whiskey for 897 human beings. Half of them were children.
Malcolm Williams — who was married to the equally famous Florence Reed — was caught swimming in front of his place by a patrol boat.
One received the Medal of Honor, but we’re not talking about Joshua Chamberlain.
Maine Memory Network is a website where local historical societies around the state can upload their photos and documents into one centralized, searchable database.
It was supposed to be a project for the ages. In reality, it never turned a profit and now most of it has vanished.
This is the twisting, two-decade-long tale of how Portland’s Monument Square statue came to be.
Alice Greely didn’t run when the British attacked in 1775. As a result, her tavern was one of the few places left standing afterward.