This edition of Salt 'n Spar features a chapter I wrote but never used in “The Town Crier,” my most recently published book of mostly Wiscasset-themed stories. It was based on interviews I did in 2015 with two longtime Wiscasset natives and friends, William Sutter and Dean Shea. It’s one of several chapters that didn’t make the final cut.

It was a pleasant spring day when I sat down alongside Bill Sutter on his front porch. Judith his wife was busy weeding the flower garden along the front of the house. Bill enjoys talking about Wiscasset’s bygone days and was only too glad to set aside the newspaper and talk. I asked what he might recall concerning so-called “colorful characters” who had once inhabited Maine’s Prettiest Village.

“Characters? Well yes, I kind of think we’ve had our share,” began Bill, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I remember back in the 1940s and 50s, there was a man downtown everybody called ‘Gadget Lewis.’ His real name was Lawrence but folks got to calling him Gadget because he was sort of a Mister Fix-It.

“Gadget Lewis lived on Pleasant Street in the two-story house behind the Carl Larrabee Insurance building. He was always tinkering around with something, old lawn mowers, electric motors, clocks; all kinds of stuff.

“If my memory serves me right, during the war he worked at Bath Iron Works as an electrician. He could fix just about anything electrical – a toaster, vacuum cleaner, power drill, fan, an electric coffee pot… If an electrical appliance broke, people took it to him and he’d fix it, or at least attempt to fix it. Gadget was still around when I graduated from Wiscasset High School in 1960 but he’s been long gone for years.”

Another local character, Sutter continued, was Henry Winn; he lived one door down from the Wiscasset Academy (Maine Art Gallery) on Warren Street. “Mr. Winn’s claim to fame was that he had lots and lots of cats – at least 30 or more of them. There were cats all over the neighborhood and most of them belonged to Henry Winn.”

“I guess with so many cats running around there was no need for the services of the Pied Piper,” I commented.

“Noooooo,” Bill replied shaking his head chuckling. “Mr. Winn worked at Wiscasset Lumber Company on Water Street located down a ways from Sarah’s Café. Walter Sherman and his brothers Stan and Gerry owned the lumber company. The Shermans were very active on the town’s baseball team, the Wiscasset ACs. It was Henry Winn that kept the scorebook during the baseball games. He always had a cigar stub in the corner of his mouth. I can’t remember what happened to old Mr. Winn or where his cats wound up after he was gone.”

Dean Shea recalled Wiscasset’s “Mister Fix-It” and Mr. Winn too.

“One character I remember from the 1940s was Chester Blair. He was an older fellow maybe 50 or so and really tall, over 6 feet in height. He had a thick dark beard and dark complexion. Chester Blair’s claim to fame was that he always wore a heavy, full-length wool coat ­– even on the hottest days of summer.

“When I was 12 or 13 I got my first job working summers as part of the town highway crew. One morning the road commissioner had me cutting grass along the side of the road on Lee Street in front of Castle Tucker. He handed me a scythe and told me to start cutting and not to dare stop until I was through.”

“A scythe? What’s that?” I interrupted.

“It’s a long pole with a curved metal blade attached to the end of it. You swing it from side to side to cut brush or tall grass. It’s what the Grim Reaper carries on his shoulder.”

“Don’t you mean Father Time?” I asked.

“Him too, I guess. Like I was saying, I was swinging this scythe from side to side. It was tiring work, all it was doing was knocking the grass over, not cutting it all. Well, before long along comes Chet Blair. He was wearing his trademark full-length wool coat and he stopped to watch me. At first, I just kept whacking away like I didn’t notice he was there. It was hot and I was really sweating. I was  getting kind of nervous too because Chet Blair just kept staring at me. After a few minutes he walked over to me and said, ‘Let me see that scythe son.’ So, I handed it over to him and he ran his right thumb right down the whole length of the blade. Then he frowned at me and said, ‘Boy you could ride a bicycle to Boston and back on that edge! Give me that sharpening stone you got there.’ I gave it to him and he sharpened the blade.”

I asked, “That’s it? I mean that’s the whole story?”

“Pretty much,” added Dean. “I never heard that expression before or since, ride a bicycle to Boston and back on that edge!”

Phil Di Vece earned a B.A. in journalism studies from Colorado State University and an M.A. in journalism at the University of South Florida. He is the author of three Wiscasset books and is a frequent news contributor to the Wiscasset Newspaper and Boothbay Register. He resides in Wiscasset. Contact him at pdivece@roadrunner.com