I was saddened to read of the passing of former Auburn Councilor Alvin Gilbert, who died July 11 at the Maine Veterans’ Nursing Home at the age of 80.

I met Gilbert while covering City Hall in the 1980s. He was far from a yes man: He was a watchdog. Sometimes the look on his face indicated he was suspicious of what he was being told. He was concerned about taxpayers, the incinerator plant and the ash landfill.

Gilbert didn’t cozy up to administrators, as former City Manager Chip Morrison recalled Friday.

“He asked contrary questions. It wasn’t always negative; sometimes someone needs to ask the hard questions,” Morrison said. He chuckled when remembering that Gilbert occasionally asked questions Morrison preferred not to be asked. Gilbert was a “decent person,” Morrison said, dedicated to his wife, Jane, and his family.

Gilbert and fellow councilors Eugene Wallingford and David Adams frequently talked together. Sadly, all three are gone.

– Bonnie Washuk
Call him Mr. Contest’

Dan Cunliffe won again.

This time, the Minot man earned a free trip to baseball’s All-Star Game in Pittsburgh as the “No. 1 fan” of Major League Baseball’s Web site, MLB.com.

Besides the trip and the admission to the game, Cunliffe earned tickets to the Home Run Derby and will appear in a commercial for the contest sponsor, Chevrolet.

Cunliffe’s entry was a short essay – recalling his experience during the Red Sox 2004 World Series win – and a photo of the banner he created with signatures from Mainers.

“I love the competition of the contest,” he told the Sun Journal in May. “I didn’t expect to win.”

Back then, Cunliffe’s 10-second video – zapping himself into American Idol’s Web site and dancing on a computer screen – won the $5,000 grand prize.

Such brushes with fame are part hobby, part profession for Cunliffe.

His family’s Auburn store, Republic Jewelry & Collectibles, sells movie props and costumes and has hosted autograph signings for famous athletes, including Baseball Hall of Famer Dennis Eckersley and Steve Grogan, a former Patriots quarterback.

– Dan Hartill
Merci

When you work the window in the Lewiston police lobby, it pays to have multiple talents. The suffering public that wanders in might be screaming with rage, screaming with pain or screaming just for the sake of screaming.

On Friday, there were no such theatrics. At about 3 p.m. a pair of elderly women walked into the lobby and asked to speak to an officer. The only hitch: They needed a French translator.

“Uh-oh,” said police clerk Leola St. Amour. “Let me see if I can round one up.”

No go. There are a handful of cops on the force who speak fluent French, but none was around Friday at shift change. Fortunately for all, St. Amour is like the MacGyver of police clerks. She does it all.

“Comment je peux vous aidez?”

And so it began. Sgt. Michael Whalen stood nearby in complete incomprehension while St. Amour listened to the story. She nodded and responded. She laughed or frowned, depending on the content. The rest of the police department looked on dumfounded.

“OK, the problem is this …” she said to the sergeant.

After 10 minutes, a resolution to the issue was reached through a fluid exchange in two languages. Police would send an officer over to check on a man the ladies were worried about.

By the end of it, the women were smiling and thanking St. Amour. They were satisfied with the outcome. At least that’s what I think they said. I mean, how would I know?

– Mark LaFlamme

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