Where it all began… Perham Hill Road.
Back in 1977, my eighth grade English teacher gave us an assignment. We were to write a formal report on any subject which interested us. At first, I did not know what to write about. I was going through a “bored phase” as kids often do, and was vexed by having to do this. At the same time, my interest in family history had been growing. A few years back, we moved to an old farmhouse. I was living in a place which was steeped in history. The Perham family came to this land in the late 1700’s. I imagine they began by constructing a log cabin and barn. By 1865 a large home was built. Jump ahead to 1977, when I was living here as a young teen. All around me was evidence of a life gone by. The house had old windows with “wavy” glass. The staircase was curved at the top and the banister was elegant. The front door had side-light windows. On the attic wall the build date was hand-written in cement -“1865”. The basement had a dirt floor. At the top of the hill was the family cemetery, sheltered within a copse of trees. To me this was more than just any old history (pardon the play on words), this was a family’s history. Real people were born here, and they lived, worked and died here. They had dreams, struggles and successes. They loved the land which I also had come to love. It was snuggled in the foothills of the Appalachians. The property included a pond, an orchard, and several fields. A stone wall and pioneer road ran through the property perpendicular to the main road. It was overgrown, but it was there. History was still alive and I was there to witness it.
Back to my project, I remember the day when it dawned on me that I wanted to research and write about my home. In a moment, I also knew this was life’s calling. I wanted to research old homes and the people who built them. It took a few decades to make it all happen, but here I am today!
Here is the cover of my old report. I still have it! It is six pages long. It even has footnotes and a bibliography. I’m sure it isn’t accurate, due to my young age and inexperience, otherwise I’d copy the whole report here. But someday I will love to sit down and lovingly re-write the Perham Hill Home & Family history.
I no longer live on Perham Hill Road, or even in Maine, but in many ways it is still very much “home” to me.