In 1956 friends from Columbia Falls, ME convinced my family from CT to rent a rustic house on Guard Point. There were only seven houses and we were miles from electricity, telephones, or real roads. We had no running water and could only pump some from a nearby house which was rented by my aunt, uncle, and cousins from OH who came with us. On a trip to the outhouse one night my Dad saw the Northern lights but neglected to wake us all which we never let him forget. Before the Maine Turnpike existed he drove us there in a 1954 Desoto which fortunately had enough ground clearance to get us over the rocks. Our friends owned the Jeep which is behind my father. Our two summer vacations at Guard Point became family legends. Dad loved the place and didn’t mind what was then a long drive up Route 1. Years later my husband and I vacationed in Maine every summer and I always wanted to see Guard Point again but we could never find it on a map. Finally one year my husband found it on a sailing chart and we drove there. Electricity had arrived around 1990. I had a cell phone and sat on the lawn of the house we rented to call my parents to tell them where we were. I have a photo of my elegant 6’7” Dad in a tuxedo but he never looked better to me than he does here.