Sammy Saunders continued the story telling. "Well, I always tell this story I guess to introduce myself. I'm Sammy Saunders, you all know and postmaster in Calais. Now, I don't want that to confuse you any because I'm one of those fast vanishing breeds of postmasters that were called political appointees. I got the job more for who I knew than what I knew. I've gone along with that. But, I was born in Mud Lane, and of course Mud Lane is a little street that connects Irish Town and Indian Hill. And, my father and mother both come from Canada and they were hard- shell Baptist Republicans - and just a little spot of land he bought in Mud Lane - was right in the middle of Mud Lane and we were surrounded by Irish Catholic Democrats. I was born there, and the bad thing about it was, here I was a Baptist Republican born in a predominant Catholic Irish Democrat neighborhood and I was blessed with the features and the name of a Jew and so you see what a hard time I had coming up through Mud Lane. The Protestants wouldn't play with me because their parents wouldn't let them associate with the people from Irish Town. The Catholic children wouldn't play with me because I was a different faith and there was only one Jewish family in the neighborhood and that was big rugged Annie Siborskey and every time she got close enough to me she'd knock the hell out of me. So, you see what a hard time, but the thing that really changed in Mud Lane for us was - in those days they had the old two holers, you know, and every house had a two holer and it meant that you had to make a trip oh, several yards out in the field or out the back end of your barn or someplace. My father, on this land that he built - had been a brick yard and back from the road about a hundred feet it dropped off into a sharp decline so two thirds of the year this was covered with water so it made it hard for us to have a privy out back because we'd either have to swim or skate to it. So, my father, when he built the house, he put out a lot of stilts from the street, you see, and he built the house - put the sills on and he built the house up on stilts which meant the farther back we went the higher the house got. So then we had no way of going to the outdoor privy, so what he did then was he laid out a few more stilts and boarded that up and covered it over and built a little lean to on it and he put it up to the house and inside this - you went out the kitchen door and you went into the shed and in corner of the shed he fenced off a little piece and he put a nice door on it and we had a - he had it painted white and we had two little ventilating windows that went across there for the ventilation and we had the beveled seats and we had covers on these beveled seats and we had even a rack for the old Sears and Roebuck catalog. You know what the Sears and Roebuck catalog was to an outhouse in those days. And, we also had a zip for the Sunkist. Now maybe you've all heard about the Sears and Roebuck catalog but how many have heard about Sunkist and what Sunkist was in those days oranges came in crates and they would be in little wrappers which would be marked Sunkist and whenever the store got in some oranges I would make the rounds and pick up these little papers and we called them Sunkists. They were special for Sundays or company. And, every time that anybody would go to the - out to the indoor-outhouse that we had, my mother would say, "Now, don't use the Sunkist." And, I'd holler, "Don't use the page with the bicycles on it." It got to be quite a joke. Everybody from all around the neighborhood came to see our indoor-outhouse, and that's how we got acquainted in the neighborhood. Mud Lane became my home then and they finally converted me to a Democrat. I never changed my religion but I did become a Democrat and that's how I got my job in the Post Office by being a Democrat and being associated with Democrats." Kay Church's story was, "It's so early it starts before I was born. About two months before my birth was due, we lived twenty miles, just as we do now, from Calais, and my father, Bill Cushing, thought that it would be only wise for his wife to go - to move into town to await the birth. So, she stayed with my uncle, Lem Wallace, on Mait's Corner, and his wife. Well, the time of the birth came and my dad seemed to have a sort of mental telepathy about some things, a premonition and he snowshoed twenty miles that night and got there in time for me to be born. And, then we had to stay at Uncle Lem's and Aunt Blanch's until March. I was born in January - until March and there was still so much snow. It wasn't plowed then as it is now on Route 9, so he had to go out with horse and sleigh with plenty of hay and all the usual paraphernalia that would make up a very soft bed for them and bring my mother and me home to the camp on Crawford Lake. Frank Fenderson suggested that Kay Church could tell the story about her father being brought up by the Fenlasons, but she said he should tell it the way her father had told him. Frank said, "Well, he said something that he was more or less brought up by Sawyer and he wasn't a Fenlason. And that his father was a seaman. And his mother had died. Both had died and that - he said the Fenlasons were always famous for being very kind to the - any children that needed help and he said Lottie Fenlason was just like a mother to me and so was Sawyer Fenlason and he said to me they're my parents." Kay Church added "Yes, he did stress that. Of course he knew my fondness for Gram and Gramp Cushing. That was equally strong. Yes, his very fondest memories were of Lottie."