This is one of the most difficult pieces I have had to write. Not because I am at a loss of words. That hardly ever happens. I threw off the cloak of shy and quiet a long time ago. It is the fear of not doing the weekend justice. Some insisted that I write a story and they await in eager anticipation of just what I might say. Before I get too long winded here and the words start rolling off my finger tips, I must pause a brief moment. I wish that I could just name all those that helped with this weekend. I hesitate even trying to name them for fear of not naming just one. There is no greater disappointment for a volunteer than to put in time and energy and then not being named. There were some that came up over the mountains. A few left their area of peace at the lakes and ponds to help us. Many came down from the mountains to be a part of this endeavor. On behalf of the Museum, I will do a gentle bow of thanks for helping this weekend. We succeeded in delivering one of the best bunch of beans we have ever done. People will be talking about how sorry they are for missing our beans. The last time I checked there might have been 10 pounds of beans left. They were awesome, even though I forgot to take some for myself. Like any good cook, I did taste them quite often to make sure they met our quality standards. I say we, and ours because without you fine folks, this would not have been the outcome. Be proud good people, be damn proud.

There is some sadness to this weekend though. You know of folks that could not make it for many reasons. It is like creating an awesome soup. There just was not enough spice without them. There are one or two that bring some sweetness. That sure in heck is not my side of the story. The real sadness is what we did not see. Where are the 45 and 50 year old folks trying to learn how this weekend goes. The comradery, friendship and laughter was priceless. The jabbing of verbal sticks if someone said something worth our attention. And believe you me, they stuck me more than once. It was almost like the whole crowd turned on me at one time. But it was with honor and a pinch of dignity they picked on me. Time is going to take our names off this list of awesome volunteers and where are those to pick up the baton ?

Ken White serving up beans with a side of laughs.

Enough of this mussy stuff. Lets see if we can find some nitty gritty stuff to put in that proverbial pot I tend to stir. Some of us, and yes there were a few that sat and counted. We could not help but count how many times stuff got rearranged when someone else had already rearranged that same area. The majority of us just can not sit still. We are old school and have to keep busy. Even if it is just get a couple more sticks of wood for the fire. But, you have to get the right size wood. That one is too big, that one too small, or  we need only hard wood for now. This is normal for those that just want the final “thumbs up great job” sign.  I am not even going to get into the biscuit ordeal. We had some “real cooks” doing the biscuits. Eventually though, they turned out perfect. There was some “so called” religious folks there to help. Some professional “heal yourself” people there. They all came to help put on a great meal. They were just one of us today and no sugar was added to treat them any different. They were just regular folks, happy to volunteer. The last time I saw a group having this much fun, we were all close to totally snockered. We just didn’t care but with great respect, did care. The only rule was “have fun”.

There were lessons for the public to learn as they came through my line for beans. They were given an option of a little amount or a lot of beans. Many would say medium. They were not allowed that option. Finally, I just made the rule “pay attention”.  When I start shoveling beans onto your plate just let me know when you had enough.  Sure enough, along came some college boys. I assumed they were college because of the shirts they had on. But “pay attention” seemed not to be a normal function for them. It was summer time after all. They were young wild and free. ( I still remember young and free.)  Well the first one got beans alright. The others learned from his actions. When the old man says “ pay attention”  that means pay attention. The crowd was great and most of them, enjoyed their time in our little slice of Rangeley.

I want all of you beans and biscuit people understand, we just set a bench mark. Pounds and pounds of beans left to take back home. They  “will be talking about us”.  This time it is good talk though.  Pull those pants up where they belong. Tuck in your shirts.  Tie your shoes. The whole crowd stood with respect when they sang the National Anthem.  This is who we are. Thank You  Ken White mountainman, COB   (on this ONE day, its Cook Of the Beans)

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