Mark Swett's Writings

  Sacrifice      Inez Clark Hawkes - A Mother’s Love  Copyright © 2022 Mark Swett                                                                                                                                                               The blood on the road was starting to wash away with the rain when State Highway Inspector Joshua Sweetser arrived at the scene. He was enjoying a day off at home when word that an accident had occurred on Pride's Bridge in Pride's Corner near Riverton Park. Portland Patrolman George Dennison was already there, along with State Police...

The S.D. Warren Santa For adults, it is a tradition, and to the young, it is magic. The Christmas season does not officially begin until "it" happens the week after Thanksgiving. "It," of course, is the appearance of the S. D. Warren Santa Claus, illuminated by a spotlight, with left arm in a motor-driven wave, and a never-changing holiday smile greeting passers-by. For a little over sixty years, our Santa has been a part of Westbrook's holiday season, even during some of the most challenging times for America. Social unrest, assassinations, and even wars have not deterred him from his duty. Some even joked that he should have had a mask put on him to stand in solidarity with the people of Westbrook during the Covid 19 pandemic. He reminds us of our past by evoking memories of a simpler time that lives in our hearts no matter our age. And he does it with a smile and a wave. The Westbrook that our Santa knew so long ago does not exist anymore. The businessmen, pe...

Christmas Eve in Old Westbrook - A True Story It was seventy years ago, but it seems like yesterday. Christmas in Westbrook, Maine during the '50s and '60s was special, with the images of the businesses decorated in red and green lights, silver tinsel, and signs announcing holiday sales etched in mind. Carr's Shoe Store, Lafond's, The Men's Shop, Day's Jewelry store, and McLellan's, to name a few. We knew the owners' names and the people who worked there, but more importantly, they knew us too. We were a community in the real sense of the word. Christmas was an exciting time. Children would flip through the clothes section of catalogs to search for the toys and circle everything they would like Santa to bring them for Christmas. A boy might find a Revell car model kit with styrene plastic cement under the tree. And a girl would be able to cook like Mom with a Kenner Easy-Bake oven. It was a bit costly even in those days, but if you were lucky, Robert the...

    Teresa       Copyright (c) 2020 Mark Swett H er name was Teresa Anne Winkpaw. Her photo has been packed away in a box for the last forty-seven years. Once in a while I would come across it while rummaging through old items looking for something from the past that had popped into my mind and I would just set it aside. After all, it was my wife’s property even though I didn’t understand why she had never discarded it.  That is until this week. We were throwing things out that we do not want our children to have to sort through after we are gone and there it was again. I believe the few thoughts that follows is the reason why it was kept and forgotten for all this time – until now.  T eresa was born on September 12, 1952 to Robert and Loretta Bernier Winkpaw. At the time of the birth her father was forty-three years old and her mother was thirty-seven. I did not take long for her parents to realize that she was disabled in a number of ...