a haven

Slates Restaurant #52 of Hallowell was gutted by fire in February 2007. The restaurant had been a fixture in the community since the early 1980’s. The community came together to help owner-chef Wendy Larson bring back the beloved place.

The unofficial logo or motif of the restaurant is the mermaid. Wendy Larson has painted many merfolk over the years in both the restaurant and bakery. In the mural a mermaid representing Slates is shown rising anew from the ashes—like the proverbial phoenix.

When I first began asking long time Hallowell residents what to included in the mural, many suggested Slate’s, and not just because of its favored place to dine. Several people who had worked at the restaurant and known Wendy for years mentioned its importance as a haven for people, in particular the LGBTQ community. Wendy has always been welcoming to many in need since opening the restaurant in the ’80’s.

artist, Chris Cart

a short move

In 2016 Slates Restaurant moved from the historic 17th century building it had been in since the early 1980’s. Even after the 2007 fire Slates had rebuilt in the same location.

However, in 2016 Wendy Larson decided it was time for a change and moved just next door to its current location, a building on Water Street that she owns.

Dotti

(August 21, 1945-Sept. 11, 2022)

Born Dorothy Proctor Galley, #97 we all knew her as Dotti.

She worked at Slates Restaurant and Bakery in Hallowell for over 40 years, where she made many lifelong friendships with co-workers and customers alike. She started at Slates in 1982 as a waitress, and worked her way up to restaurant manager, then bakery manager. She was still helping manage the bakery part time from her home up until this past summer.

Dotti was one of the last people I included in the mural. She died after the mural was technically completed but she was so central to the doings of Hallowell, particularly the artists and musicians I had to include her.

artist, Chris Cart

livelihood from the Kennebec #39

Atlantic salmon, American shad, the alewife and blueback herring-both river herring species, rainbow smelt and striped bass are all native Kennebec anadromous fish.

Estimates of the early abundance of salmon on the river prior to the 18th century range as high as 70,000 fish, of just this one species.

Vast numbers of salmon and other anadromous fish used to swim up the Kennebec every year to spawn. These fish were an important subsistence food source for the native people of the Kennebec Valley. Hunting by the Wôban-aki Nation #112 people was mainly by spears and traps, to provide enough food for the local people.

Not much changed in the river with the early European settlers. The fish were abundant and even with increased use the fish stocks were not, initially overused. Indeed early reports by the settlers expressed their awe at the great abundance of fish in the river.

a·nad·ro·mous /əˈnadrəməs/
adjective
Zoology
(of a fish such as the salmon) migrating up rivers from the sea to spawn.

overfishing

As more Europeans settled along the Kennebec the the river became more exploited for commercial use in addition to fishing to sustain the local people. Shiploads of fish began to be netted from the river and sent down river on route for sale down the coast in ports of Portland, Boston and New York.

Kennebec salmon was prized in restaurants down the colonial coast as well at European tables. And initially, the salmon was so bountiful and cheap, laws were enacted to restrict logging camps around the state from serving the fish more than three times per week.

However, by the late 18th century people were noting the depletion of the fish in the Kennebec valley. By the 1820 when Maine became a state, the Atlantic salmon were almost gone. The real depletion of all the anadromous fish on the Kennebec came after the Edwards Dam in Augusta was built in 1837.

The settlers along the Kennebec had seen raw the potential of the river to power industry. With this first dam being built at the head of tide in Augusta, the salmon and other fish could no longer swim up stream to their spawning grounds.

By 1850, just 13 years later, the Atlantic salmon was so scarce several drift net fisheries businesses were completely abandoned. And one hundred years later in the 1950’s and Atlantic salmon numbers had dwindled to just a few hundred fish on the Kennebec.

Industry on the Kennebec in the early 20th century also polluted the river so intensely that the Kennebec river, once pristine and prized for its clear ice in winter and delicious fish, had the gained the reputation of its reek and fish too unhealthy to eat.

This is an early stage of the river in the mural. The fisherman was bigger and made a dramatic element. Howver, as the mural evolved more things and people needed to be added, so I had to tone down the fisherman and make the river less busy. But I really liked this version as a design by itself.

artist, Chris Cart

highway to the world

The Kennebec River #29, was crucially important to Hallowell for most of its existence since 1762. The earliest settlers, Deacon Pease Clark #109 and his family arrived sailing up the Kennebec from southern Massachusetts.

All the goods manufactured and grown in Hallowell and anywhere along the Coos Trail inland from Hallowell were shipped out of Hallowell’s port to cities down the coast

For 8 months of the year from spring, ice out to the next winter’s freeze, ships would make their way the 46 miles upriver from the Atlantic to the harbor at Hallowell:

…bringing Pennsylvania flour, West India sugar, and English cloth and hardware, returning with shingles, clapboards, hogsheads and barrel staves, white oak capstan bars destined for Boston or Bristol or Jamaica.

from Maine Memory Network

For the 100 years of the ice industry‘s huge importance in the area ice was cut from the river and area lakes and shipped down the river to many southern ports. One account states that “Kennebec ice” was much sought for its clarity and clean flavor.

Alewife fishery on the Kennebec was big business for many decades.

And until the 1950’s logs from the forests of Maine were sent down the Kennebec to Hallowell for sorting and milling.

One man noted that in Hallowell at the time:
“Every boy who had arrived at the age of eighteen and who had not been on a voyage to the East or West Indies, was looked upon as ‘non compos’, and every man over thirty who was not called Captain had forfeited the respect of the community.”

From Maine Memory Network

There were several boatyards in Hallowell, building schooners for the river trade.

far reaching trade

There were three icehouses in Hallowell located on Summer Street, the Vaughan Stream, and where the Hallowell boat landing is today.

Once in the Willemstad, Curacao history museum I saw an article that Leonard B Smith, the consul of the US in Curacao had made his start with his own schooner hauling Maine ice to Curacao to provide cold drinks to the island people.

artist, Chris Cart