Radio Script #662

Little Talks on Common Things

October 17, 1965

On this program I have had occasion several times to mention a Waterville boy who rose to fame in his profession as an engineer. I refer to Karl Kennison, who was the distinguished engineer of the Metropolitan Water District of Boston. Now living in retirement in a quiet Connecticut town, Karl is often called into consultation in respect to water systems as far away as South America.

Karl Kennison is a very loyal alumnus of Colby and he seldom misses a commencement. In fact he has for many years been President of Colby’s Fifty-Plus Club, composed of members of all classes who graduated more than 50 years ago. Only last June Karl insisted he must now give up the club presidency. His successor is a man even better known to Waterville people today, Prof. Lester Weeks.

Lester indeed has a yen for old timers. He founded Waterville’s Retired Persons’ Club, which now has more than a hundred members and serves an important function for our older citizens. Only last June did Lester become eligible for the Colby FiftyPlus Club, when the Class of 1915 celebrated their fiftieth anniversary. So now two groups of old timers have a vital claim on Lester Weeks.

But to get back to Karl Kennison. He has a distinction quite apart from his fame as an engineer. Anyone who can trace his ancestry to a passenger of the Mayflower, and do it authentically, has reason to be proud. But Karl Kennison can do more than that. Karl, believe it or not, had six Mayflower ancestors. Considering there were only 104 persons on the Mayflower, including the entire crew as well as the passengers, that is quite a record. Let us see how it came about.

Karl Kennison’s grandfather, Andrew Kennison, married Rosanna Sampson and it was through her that Karl traced his Mayflower ancestry. Karl’s grandmother Rosanna, born in 1825, was a daughter of Abel Sampson, born 1784, whose father was Michael Sampson, born 1732. For many years the family lived in Temple, Maine, near Farmington. Michael Sampson’s father was Caleb Sampson, Jr., born in 1700, and he was the grandson of Henry Sampson, cabin boy of the Mayflower. That makes for Karl Kennison one Mayflower ancestor. But Henry Sampson’s son Caleb, Sr. married Mercy, the daughter of Alexander Standish, son of Captain Miles Standish. So Miles Standish was another Kennison ancestor.

Mercy Standish’s father Alexander married Sarah, the daughter of John and Priscilla Alden, both passengers on the Mayflower. Priscilla Alden had been Priscilla Mullins when she landed at Plymouth, and with her in the Mayflower were both of her parents, William and Alice Mullins. So there you have Karl Kennison’s six Mayflower ancestors: William and Alice Mullins, John and Priscilla Alden, Miles Standish and Henry Sampson.

Among the family mementos preserved by Karl Kennison is the written proposal of marriage that his grandfather Andrew made to his grandmother Rosanna, and her reply. All writing, even intimate family letters, was usually couched in the most formal style a hundred and more years ago. So, while one may be amused, one should not be surprised at what two lovers wrote to each other up in Temple, Maine in 1845. Bear in mind that this man and woman both lived in the same Franklin County community, probably saw each other nearly every day. Yet etiquette of the time prompted Andrew to put his proposal most formally in writing. His letter, dated April 16, 1845, went as follows: “Miss Rosanna Sampson: I would respectfully invite your attention to a subject of particular interest, and one that has for some time engrossed my mind. It may and probably is a new idea to you, but, as I have already more than intimated, it is by no means new to me. It is an idea that has interested me for many months, and at present is more than ever interesting. I have for some time considered you as the worthy object of my affections, and as I have never thought it prudent to love anyone without knowing it is reciprocal, I would inquire if my particular attachment to yourself would be acceptable. I hope you will consider the subject fairly and candidly before you decide, as it is a matter of great importance and one that is to affect your future happiness in life. Go then to the throne of grace and invoke divine aid and guidance that you may judge rightly in this matter. Please send an answer as soon as you decide. Yours respectfully, Andrew Kennison.”

Rosanna took three days to reply. Probably she did not want to appear too eager and forward, which would not have been correct etiquette at all. It looks as if she had long before made up her mind. Let us see what she did reply: “April 19, 1845. Respected Friend: In relation to the statements you made in regard to your attachment, I think I have no reason to doubt the truth or sincerity of them; and the subject not being new to me, but one which I have thought of before, I will now say in reply to your inquiry that I know of nothing to prevent your attachment from being acceptable. I do not feel worthy of your affections, and should suppose you would bestow them upon someone who is more worthy. Yours with respect, Rosanna Sampson.”

A year later, on April 23, 1846 Rosanna Sampson married Andrew Kennison.

Now I want to know if any listener has ever heard of anyone who can equal or beat Karl Kennison’s genealogical record. Who knows of anyone now living who had six or more Mayflower ancestors?

In a bundle of papers handed me last summer was a folder that brought back memories of my childhood. On its cover the folder has a drawing showing a man in rubber boots, with a fish creel hanging from his shoulder and a fishing rod in his hand. He is facing a woman dressed in the summer costume of the early 1900’s, skirt coming to her ankles and hair in a pompadour. stream. Over it all is the caption: An insert shows a crowded steamer on a narrow “Songo River Line to the Switzerland of America Up in Maine”. I rode on that steamer many times. My wife and I made our last trip on it in the summer of 1917, taking a train on the Mountain Division of the Maine Central from Portland to Sebago Lake Station, where we boarded the steamer, and on it went up the lake, through the Songo River to the Bay of Naples, through the drawship into Long Lake, and up that lake to Bridgton Landing. Because we wanted to call on relatives of mine in Bridgton, we landed there, not at the terminus of the steamer line in Harrison. That evening we returned by way of the narrow gauge railroad to Bridgton Junction and the Mountain Division of the Maine Central to Portland.

The folder carries no date, but because it refers to the Bay of Naples Inn as new, I assume it was published about 1910.

The folder has a number of pictures, including the picturesque locks on the Songo, an upper stretch of the river, Frye’s Leaf Rock on the big lake, and the bowlshaped Bay of Naples. But most of the photos are of places catering to the traveling public. These included the Victoria Cottages at Sebago Lake Station, the Chute Homestead (still operated under the same name, by the way) at Naples, the Proctor House also at Naples, Charles Cobb’s Denmark Inn and Camps, the Harrison House, and of course the famous Bay of Naples Inn. There is not a single picture of a Bridgton resort hotel, but on the pages listing “Hotels and Boarding Houses Along our Route” are 17 such places in Bridgton alone, more than in any other town on the list.

When we consider what it costs to stay overnight at a Maine hotel or motel in 1965, the rates listed in this old folder are tantalizing. The aristocratic place was the Bay of Naples Inn, but not even that hotel gave any prices per day. Like the cheaper places, its rates were by the week. At the Bay of Naples room and 21 meals for a week cost from $21 to $30. At Chute’s the rates were $9 to $10 a week.

In Bridgton the best places were the Bridgton House and Stonleigh in Ingalls’ Grove. At both the minimum was $10 a week, the maximum $15. But at Al Burnham’s Lake View House, a very popular Bridgton resort, the rates were $6 to $10. Tarrya-While, a resort on the Bridgton Highlands that is still operated by the Abbott family, then charged from $8 to $12, and one could get a good full week’s board and room at Ingalls Hill Farm for $7 a week.

The folder contains a long description of the famous boat trip. Here is what it says about the Songo River, so crooked that we kids used to say of it, “You met yourself coming back”: “The passage up the narrow and winding Songo is the most interesting part of the trip, and its best feature is the direct reflection which the forest and banks make in the tranquil stream. After five miles of sailing we reach the new lock, built the past year to replace the old one built in 1823 at the confluence of Songo and Crooked Rivers. In the lock the steamer is imprisoned in concrete walls in such close quarters that one can step from the deck to the shore. The water in the lock is raised seven feet in order to lift the steamer up over the rapids into the Bay of Naples.

While the water is rushing in to fill the lock, we have time to look around at one of Maine’s historic spots. Here in 1724 the savages, assembled and raided the settlements from Naples to Gorham, killing many settlers. Mortally wounded in the attack on Fort Hill at Gorham, the chief died here at the meeting of the Songo and the Crooked, and here that scene is memorialized by a statue of the chief’s daughter holding the cup to give her dying father his last sip of water.”

The round trip journey that Mrs. Marriner and I took in 1917 is advertised exactly in the folder. It was called “The Afternoon Trip”, and this was its schedule. Leave Portland by M.C.R.R. at 1:35, leave Sebago Lake Station by steamer at 2:00, arrive Naples at 4:00, and Bridgton at 4:40. Returning by the Bridgton & Saco River narrow gauge, one left Bridgton at 5:55, caught the Maine Central at Bridgton Junction at 6:45 and arrived at the Union Station in Portland at 7:45. The fare for the whole trip was $2.75. On Sundays there were special excursions, both ways by steamer, for $2.00.

The folder’s final word concerned hay fever: “As any point on the Son go River Line can be reached from Boston, New York or Philadelphia with only 16 miles of railroad travel, persons troubled with hay fever and wishing to avoid the dust of a railroad journey can see the advantage of taking their summer outing at one of the excellent resorts on the Songo River Line.”

Year: 1965