Where else can you find gorgeous ocean views, a dog friendly groomed walking trail, a village of fairy houses, pet cemetery, a school and a dark secret all in one place? That would be Mackworth Island. To anyone who may have this on your list of serene places to visit, I’m going to throw the dark side in here. Sorry to ruin it for you. For those who were victims of the horrors that took place, I am truly truly sorry.
Mackworth Island is in Falmouth, just outside of Portland, Maine. You drive across the causeway and try to squeeze your car into any teeny space available and head out on the one and a half mile hike that runs along the edge of the island, walking along the water every step of the way. Benches have been set up (and bench swings much to my delight) facing the water for those of you who just want to sit and chill.
At the start of the trail you will see Baxter’s School For the Deaf on your left. Just to be clear, everything is to your left. Only ocean is to your right….you're on an island after all…and walking in a big circle around said island, for those of you who have gotten lost already.
Next comes Fairy Land. You will find several fairy houses that have been made out of twigs and branches of all shapes and sizes. Feel free to make your own or simply admire the creativity that has gone into making the fairies of Mackworth feel at home. By the looks of some of these fairy houses, these young architects should be volunteering for Habitat for Humanity.
About half way around the island you will come to a small trail that is easy to miss. It leads to Baxter's Pet Cemetery. This is a grand sign of a man who loved his pets like family. He had eighteen Irish Setters who are all buried here, along with a horse named Jerry. Around the grave stones is an elaborate rock wall in the shape of a circle and almost as tall as I am, complete with a plaque positioned on the side. I had to laugh to myself at some of the hikers that walk by in disgust as if a memorial has no place on such a seemingly beautiful place. Boy-if they only knew the rest of the story. Let’s get to it shall we….
Mackworth Island was the summer haven for the areas Native Americans, lead by Skitterygusset. In 1630 an English fellow named Arthur Mackworth decided he wanted it, so he got it. Just like that. In 1634 he gained the rights to the Island, built a home and called it ‘Newton’ after his home in England. He remained in cahoots with some of the friendlier Native Americans while others were not interested in trading with him. Cured fish and corn were some of the goods that were traded between the two parties. Fun fact: the rock that the Native Americans and Mackworth used to grind corn on, is still there. You walk right by it on your whimsical nature hike.
Another fun fact, within a three year span, Mackworths’ wife died, his friend died, AND he married his friends wife. I feel like there’s more to it, but they don’t call me a cynic for nothing.
After Arthur died, rights to the Island changed hands several times until it fell into Percival Baxters’ lap. Just prior to his ownership it had belonged to his father who had had a bridge built, threw over the top parties, and had a 100 acre island full of horses and Irish Setters just frolicking like it was nobodies business. I WANT TO BE HIS FRIEND SO BADLY!!
Percival planted over 100,000 trees to replace the ones that had been used for shelter and heat during the civil war and declared the island a bird sanctuary. Trust me…you know it’s a heck of a bird sanctuary when your casually walking down a trail and Darkwing Duck swoops down, missing your head by mere inches. I still don’t know what it was…maybe a turkey vulture, which would confirm the rumor that I am in fact dead inside. Back to the story…
In 1953 Percival gave the Island to the state of Maine under the condition that his beloved Pet Cemetery would remain maintained. It seems as though the promise has been kept due to it being in better condition than some other cemeteries I’ve seen. The Baxter School For The Deaf is located their today. Are you guys enjoying your jaunt around the island? Good, hang on, let me fix that for you...
The school keeps its history hush-hush which is nothing less than a giant slap in the face to the several children who were victimized there. For over twenty years several students at the school were sexually and physically assaulted. I want to assume the psychological and emotional damage that is weaved in as well. Some teachers would express their concerns, but what do we do with accusations that are so heinous they can’t possibly be true? Ignore them. Yup. These children didn’t have a leg to stand on and the abuse kept on for years. Finally, in 1981 a light bulb went off in someones head and decided to listen to the victims. Before you get your hopes up about any sort of justice, the statute of limitations kicked in and no one was ever brought to justice.
Wanna name names? Me too. Principal Robert Kelly. Superintendant Joseph Youngs. Dean Jan Repass. None of these Meatwhistle’s were ever brought to justice. As a matter of fact, Kelly continued to receive his pension. While Youngs died in 1990, I could find no more information on Repass and quite frankly, it’s not worth the effort. I am not going to spend the time on a piece of garbage. However, the farmhouse on the island where Kelly lived as well as being the site of a majority of the abuse, was burnt down by the fire department in a somewhat therapeutic manner with former victims and family members in attendance. Governor Angus King in 2001 set up a fund to compensate the victims and offered a public apology on behalf of the state.
So, if you can get past the horrific sexual and physical abuse that happened here for over two decades, and ok with the fact that the Native Americans lost their summer home because Alfred wanted it, then it’s a pretty good hike. Don’t forget to keep Fido on a leash while you’re there!!
