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« on: September 30, 2024, 02:56:57 PM »
It was Labor Day 1996, after a disastrous two weeks' vacation on Cape Cod our family accepted an invitation to stay the weekend with friends in New Harbor. On our way home coming down Route 1 I saw a sign for the Museum. My wife indulged me for the detour though she grew increasingly concerned the farther we traveled inland. What I saw wasn't much - a standard gauge quarry locomotive that was too big to fit on the short section of narrow gauge tracks that were laid and an incomplete car barn. The place was deserted so we left. We stopped in the next year and the tracks ran almost out of site. There was activity that day. A strange man who turned out to be Fred approached our minivan and invited us to take a train ride. Our accommodations were Flatcar 118 with wooden rails and folding chairs for seats pulled by No. 52. We had barely sat down when we reached End of Track.
When the ride was over, Fred wisely told Gail that she should have me come up to volunteer for the upcoming Fall Work Weekend as it would keep me out of other mischief. Thereafter, when Fred needed a volunteer crew he would call Gail to say the "boys" needed me. She was completely unable to refuse his requests, Nor was I, including the day we loaded coal by hand from a cellar into a 10 wheeler in Raymond (Eleven Chimneys). The folks I met that day at Sheepscot were very welcoming and remain good friends to this day.
The rest is history.