Memos from Quarantine #28: God's Little Acre

The History

Greentrees is the accepted name of this historic estate I’ve acquired in rural Maine. I have no idea about its origin, but it can be traced back at least to the 1940s. The evidence: a stack of letters left behind in the barn by previous owners. They’re WW II era, and the return address is “Greentrees, Mt. Vernon, Maine.”

The origin of the house – that’s a bit easier to determine. It was built circa 1780 by Noah Greeley, a Revolutionary War veteran. According to records, he was born at Kingston, NH in 1760, and as a young teen he enlisted in the Revolutionary War as a private in Capt. Joshua Brown's Company. He was discharged on Mar 1776, after spending two months at the barracks on Bunker Hill. He went on to marry Hannah Morrill, and the two of them migrated to Maine (then still part of the Massachusetts Bay Colony), where they built the homestead and raised 13 children.

Greeley built a couple of local dams, and his craftsmanship is reflected in the sturdy bones of this house. It’s got a tight foundation of granite and brick, and the wooden frame atop it is solid and straight. Some of the interior wood paneling appears to be King’s Pine – the tallest, thickest and most desirable wood in colonial America. King George I was so taken by these pines that he claimed exclusive harvesting rights to them – one of his many affronts to the pre-Revolution colonists – hence the name “King’s Pine.” I’m sure it was no small satisfaction for Pvt. Greeley to include some King’s Pine in his postwar home.

And if you’re going to do quarantine in Maine? There’s comfort in barricading within the King’s Pine and knowing you’re under the watch of a Revolutionary War soldier buried in the backyard.

The Numbers

And “quarantine” seems to just be the smart thing to do. Just look at today’s numbers:

·        13.2 million reported COVID-19 cases so far in the U.S. alone – 4 million of them in the month of November

·        266,000 deaths & climbing by at least 1,000 per day, again solely in the U.S.

·        91,000 Americans currently hospitalized – another number that grows daily

In Maine – one of the three states in the nation that’s not categorized “Uncontrolled Spread” – the governor has responded to the trends by ordering a 9 p.m. curfew for all bars and restaurants. Some of the locals respond as though they’ve lost their King’s Pine. But what’s the alternative? If you can’t mask up and socially distance, there’s a price to pay.

The Winter

From the mid-1920s to mid-1930s, writer Erskine Caldwell called Greentrees home. His two most famous books, Tobacco Road and God’s Little Acre, were published when he lived here. And while I don’t diminish the impact of those works, I do have to say: When he wrote about Greentrees, he tended to exaggerate. This from his 1952 autobiography Call It Experience:

“Summer-time in Maine, though, I was soon to learn, was a brief season of a few weeks providentially granted mankind each year for the one purpose of husbanding for winter. That was the time to see and acquire at any cost, for nine months of cold, the essential creature comforts of fuel and food.”

According to Caldwell, the winter nights plummeted to an average of 20 below, and he needed 18-20 cords of wood – conservatively – to heat the house. Ultimately, he developed his own rhythm: Cut wood by day, cultivate potatoes by twilight, write at night. That yielded him warmth and sustenance throughout the winter – and one new short story per week.

Well, it’s 45 degrees as I sit here at Greentrees at the end of November, and it’s supposed to be 55 on Dec. 1. Having grown up in Maine, I know it gets cold and snowy. But 20 below is the exception, not the rule. And 20 cords of wood ought to be good for two solid winters, not one.

But, hey, let’s not allow reality to impede Caldwell’s storytelling.

The Outlook

As I stare down December, I’m consumed by three thoughts. Two of them are “clean and seal.” I’ve been in Greentrees for one month today, and countless hours have been spent giving it the deep cleanse it needs and closing up holes where critters and drafts were getting in. This work will only intensify over the next few weeks, to fortify those windows and walls for the winter.

The third thought – no surprise – is of hunkering down for this next devastating wave of the pandemic. As we continue to politicize the most basic of medical precautions, COVID-19 is infecting record numbers of victims. And until we have widespread vaccination, the news can’t be good. Medical facilities will remain maxed out, offices will stay closed, and we all better get used to the idea that now, more than ever, everything we do – how we live, how we learn, how we shop and work – is subject to cybercrime.

As I have throughout this ordeal, I spoke recently with pandemic expert Regina Phelps, who always gives me straight talk. She points out that it took 100 days for the world to record its first 1 million COVID-19 infections. A week ago, 1 million cases were added in 28 hours.

When can we expect a break? "The pandemic is over only when herd immunity has been reached," Phelps says. "Regardless of some of the squirrelly ideas you've heard ... herd immunity has only been reached anywhere in the world, with any disease, by vaccination - not by disease.”

So, buckle in. It’s going to be a rough winter. And I for one am pretty pleased to be riding it out on God’s Little Acre.