The Androscoggin River flows for 178 miles from headwaters at Erroll, N.H., but only two miles of it have been of most interest to me. It’s a short stretch, but enough to provide memory and imagination with a wealth of stories.

The Androscoggin brought vital waterpower and electrical generation to Berlin, N.H., Rumford, Livermore Falls, Lewiston-Auburn, Lisbon and Brunswick, Maine. While the economic benefits have been tremendous, it’s the personal tales that go along with the construction of dams that fascinate me.

Construction of the Libbey-Dingley Dam and powerhouse at Deer Rips in Lewiston began on April 16, 1902. That was more than a year before the Wright brothers flew their first airplane.

“Sometime between 4:30 and 5 p.m. on Wednesday, Nov. 16, 1904, the lights in Lewiston and Auburn dimmed and went out. When they came back on, moments later, they seemed to burn brighter than ever. The power flowing into those light bulbs, generated at the new powerhouse at Deer Rips, was made up by the determination of two men, the sweat of countless laborers and the dreams of two cities.”

That description of the massive project comes from a brochure published by Central Maine Power Co. and the Androscoggin Land Trust 20 years ago.

The Twin Cities had small sources of electric power since 1884, but it was expensive and prone to frequent interruption. The challenge of improvements and promise of great opportunities were perfect for two men, W. Scott Libbey and Henry M. Dingley. They bought land and river rights from the site to the Turner line.

The dam is not visible from local public roads. It’s a short distance south of the large St. Peter’s Cemetery on Switzerland Road.

Libbey and Dingley partnered in the business and proceeded to blast a canal through solid ledge and build a 1,000-foot dam between Auburn and Lewiston. In the early 1890s they had purchased the idle Lincoln Mill next to the Great Falls, and renamed it the W.S. Libbey Mill.

“But it was electric power that soon captured the two men’s imagination,” the brochure said.

In July 1903, Libbey invited a Lewiston Evening Journal reporter to view the project. A few days earlier, on Independence Day, “just by way of celebrating its independent course, a royal reminder of 700 pounds of dynamite was put into the tailrace (out-flow) excavations,” the writer said. That was just for one Fourth of July explosion. Through the early stages, the project used 500 to 1,000 pounds of dynamite each day.

The reporter also wrote about the arrival of Italian migrant workers. His story described, with some imagination, their culinary tastes for bread, cheese and macaroni, their evening entertainment habits of smoking, playing the accordion and singing love songs, and their bewilderment at constantly having their beer confiscated due to their lack of understanding “that they must make their peace and price with some elected and sworn official before they can enjoy this latter privilege.”

The Deer Rips brochure said the Italian laborers were migrant workers. They built temporary housing at the site. Some lived in rough cabins and, in warmer seasons, some lived in dugouts carved into the hills. There was a dormitory where they shared meals.

Rock from the ledge that was blasted away for the 800-foot long and 25-foot deep canal to the powerhouse was crushed on site and mixed with Portland cement to make concrete. The dam was 32 feet high, 30 feet at the base and nine and a half feet at the top. It produced more power than any other hydroelectric facility in New England at the time.

Libbey and Dingley were also enthralled with electric railroads. The power from Deer Rips meant more and longer power lines. Within a month of turning on the power, the men had entered into agreement with the Lewiston, Brunswick and Bath Street Railway, and within a few years they created the electric Portland-Lewiston Interurban line.

Deer Rips Dam is a few hundred feet from the northeast corner of my riverside field in Auburn. In less than 20 years, the massive Gulf Island Dam arose.

In both cases, the uses and characteristics of the Androscoggin were changed, but there are still signs nearby of the lumber industry when logs were confined bank-to-bank by chains. Some very large iron rings can still be found in boulders on the shore. When the river level is low, the pilings of rock in mid-river once again come into view.

Boating and fishing have come back on the Androscoggin near L-A, but it’s no longer a winter playground. Gone are horse races on the ice, a toboggan run from Lewiston’s shore that sent sleds downriver, and annual ice harvests.

Dave Sargent is a freelance writer and a native of Auburn. He can be reached by sending email to [email protected].