Q&A with Ted Cook

'When it comes time to go, I'll know I've done my share.'

Edward "Ted" Cook, Sr.

On Memorial Day, Edward "Ted" Cook Sr., 81, will lead observances in South Portland as captain of the Color Guard for Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 832. He recently shared with The Current his thoughts on those duties, as well as other stories from his life.

Q: Where and when were you born?

A: I was born March 8, 1930, right here in South Portland.

Q: What was South Portland like at the time?

A: Well, I don't know, because I was just a little baby (laughs). Actually, my father got transferred to St. Albans, Vt., until I was about 11. Then we moved back here.

Q: What schools did you attend here in town?

A: I went to the old Reynolds School, on Broadway. I went to South Portland High but I didn't graduate. I quit and went into the service.

Q: So, you would have been in what we now call middle school during World War II. What was South Portland like during that time?

A: South Portland then was quite active because of the shipyard. They had what they called "the barracks." It was rows of what today you'd call low-income housing. It was not just for service members, but for anybody. They all looked alike. More than once you'd hear tell of some fella who'd come home drunk and end up going into the wrong house. It was busy times in South Portland.

Q: What did you do between school and joining the military? Did you have a job?

A: No, I just hanged around. I had no job. That's why I went into the service. My father said, "You either get a job or you go into the service, take your pick." So, I went into the service with another fella.

We went in together. I remember taking the physical and I'm going up the stairs and he's coming down. I said, "Where are you going?" and he said "Out. I flunked the physical." He had a heart murmur. So, I said, "Great, now I'm all alone."

Seventeen years old, but I went, got sworn into the infantry and went to Fort Dix for 13 weeks. I went to Georgia for my schooling and from there to Japan. It was peacetime then, of course.

I came back, but then the Korean Conflict broke out and they sent us right back. I was there for about 18 months, I guess.

Q: What did you do during the war?

A: By then I was in the combat engineers. We'd build something, then somebody would blow it up, then we'd go back in and build it back again. We'd just keep going wherever they needed something built.

Q: Was it hard work?

A: Well, no, it wasn't that bad. In some places, if you were right in the thick of it, yeah, it could be bad. But for most of our work, we were pretty well covered. We came under fire a couple of times, mostly when we'd be working at night, under the lights, and, first thing, the lights would get blown out, and we'd just run.

You always had your rifle with you, right along side you, even when you were building something. Your rifle was never too far from you, believe me. We worked with a shovel in one hand and a rifle in the other, more or less.

Q: Did you get out of the service after the war?

A: I got out just a little before it ended, in '51 or '52. I could have stayed in. Sometimes I wish I had, and made a career of it. When I got out of the service I went to work for the South Portland Planing Mill. Where Megquier & Jones Steel is on Broadway, there used to be a planing mill right behind there.

I worked there for about a year and then I went to a warehouse called the Galt Block, on the State Pier. I was there for about five years. From there I went to Brockway-Smith Co. I was there for 29 years.

Q: When did you join the VFW?

A: Well, I first joined right after the war, but it was taking up too much of my time, or so my wife said.

See, I didn't have a car back then, and so I used to take the bus. The bus let off on Elm Street and I had to walk right by the VFW where it was then to our house near Willard Square. Well, I just couldn't seem to get by it. Something would beckon me to come in.

My wife, she didn't like that. She said, "Take you pick, that or me." So, I said, "Well, let me think this over." [laughs]. No, I'm just kidding, but I did give it up. If I'd stayed in, I'd be a 50-year veteran. But, as it is, I've been a member for 18 years.

Q: How did you meet your wife?

A: Well, I've been married for 57 years. My wife’s name is Doris. She used to live in "the barracks," in Broadview Park. They're all private homes now, but back then it was like a housing project. I lived there for a while, and that's where I met her, you know, just saw her around the neighborhood. There was a lot of action back then. In fact, I used to go with one girl and I was going into the service as my brother ended up coming out of the Navy, and she ended up marrying him.

Anyway, there was always something going on, dances and whatnot. We raised a little hell, but never got into any real trouble.

Q: Getting back to the VFW, what has it meant to you to be a member of the Color Guard?

A: Oh, I love it. We do a lot of observances and ceremonies. I just enjoy doing it, as long as we do it right. I mean, people are really looking at you, and the veterans, they know what the hell you're doing. Like, the other night, at the beginning of the hockey game, this other Color Guard came marching in with a rifle, the Maine flag, the American flag, and then another rifle. Well, that's backwards. The American flag comes in first, and it goes out first, always, always. I spotted that right off.

Q: Do you ever get frustrated that people don't seem to know their flag etiquette, like they used to?

A: I do. When we do the Memorial Day parade, we'll go by and people won't take their caps off, or kids will be playing on the side, running into the street. It's getting better though. Somebody must be educating them. For a while, say five or six years ago, it was bad. There was just no respect whatsoever. Sometimes there wouldn't even be anybody out there for the parade. We'd be doing it all by ourselves, but it's got better the last few years. Even on Veterans Day, when it's cold, there's usually quite a good little crowd, and they're getting more respectful.

Q: What do you think about while leading the flag?

A: Oh, I just take pride in being there. My health is excellent, so I'll do it as long as I can. I think about all of the veterans. Most of them from our post are dead now. There's so few of us left.

Q: Are you not seeing new members come in to the VFW?

A: Oh, no. Membership is bad. Not just here, but everywhere. People just aren't joiners today like they used to be. It's too bad, but very few of the Vietnam veterans have joined. When they came back they were treated like animals, and so they don't feel respected, and don't join. We have a couple, but our members are mostly from Korea and World War II.

Q: Do you not get any service people from Iraq and Afghanistan?

A: Not really. We had a couple. We even paid their dues for them so they could join, but we haven't seen them since.

Q: It sounds like there is a kind of generation gap, at the post.

Yes, I’d say there is. Of course, I must admit, it's hard for the younger fellas. Here, we're all old. We don't really get off our stools and say, "How are ya, how ya doing." A young guy comes in and sits at the bar and nobody talks to him. So, he's probably like, "The hell with this place."

But we would like to get some younger folks in, so they can take over. To me, it's important, just to keep the memory alive. I mean, if this place dies out, it'd be just disastrous.

Q: Is there a danger of that happening?

A: Oh, yes. At one time South Portland was the biggest VFW post in New England. We had over 2,000 members. Now, there are few hundred, but only a dozen or so that are really active. At any one time there aren't more than four people in here.

Q: Is there any factor you can point to that’s contributed to the decline in membership?

A: Other than us dying off, you mean? Mostly, it’s just a lack of money. We used to have all the land around the building, but we had to sell that, and the building, too. All we are now is just this little area around the bar on this side of the building. We don't own it at all anymore. We have a 100-year lease, rent free, but even so, it costs a lot of money to run this place, you need a license for this and license for that.

What we got for the building, it's in a bank, but every month you have to cough some out, and there's more going out that coming in.

Q: Are the license fees especially burdensome?

Well, yes. Here, you have to be a member, or be with a member, to get in. In some of the bigger states, anyone can get in, and it's the bar that keeps them alive, but their liquor license costs them a small fortune.

But here’s a better example: It wasn't too long ago, this fella comes in, to check on things, from the city, or the state, or wherever. Some of us where there playing cards and next thing I know, he's over talking to the bar manager. After he leaves, the manager comes over and points at us and says, "Do you know we have to have a $60 license for that?" I said, "Are you kidding me? A bunch of old men playing skat for quarters, and for that we need a permit?"

It's irritating as hell. Just ways to make money, I guess.

Q: Apart from your work with the VFW, what else do you do with your time? Do you have any hobbies?

I don't really have any hobbies, but my wife and I, we volunteer at St. John's Church food pantry, downstairs below the church on Main Street in South Portland. I do that every Thursday.

It started when I retired about 15 years ago, when the one in charge of the Meals on Wheels needed some help, so, I agreed to help out and it just sort of snowballed form there.

That’s another gratifying job, because some of the people who come in there are really down and out. Every week there are more people. The woman who does the interviews, she tells me every Thursday, there'll be eight or nine new ones. Last Christmas, we did 103 families. I'll do it until I can't do it any more. 

Q: What is your primary job at the food pantry? Do you still drive?

No. It got too slippery in winter for me. I help load up the cars now. I like working outside, although lately we've gotten very wet.

Most people are very grateful, but some of them act like you owe it to them. I don't mind helping a woman, but when a young, big-scrapping guy just sits behind the wheel and says, "Put in the back seat," I'm like, "Are you're legs bothering you? Why don't you get out here and help me?"

Q: What advice would you have for someone just starting out today?

A: Gosh, there's no jobs, you can hardly afford to feed yourself. Someone getting married today, I'd tell 'em, don't have any kids. (laughs)

But if they do, and they asked me, I'd say just keep your nose clean. My father always told me, "Just do your job and keep your mouth shut." That's what he told me and that's pretty much what I've done all my life. I kept my mouth shut until it was time to say something.

Q: Is there anything else you’d like to do in your life?

A: Not really. When it comes time to go, I'll know I've done my share.

Military museum marks official opening

June 11 event to include governor, secretary of state

A small selection of the headgear worn by Maine soldiers, sailors and airmen, on display at the Maine Military Museum

Leon “Lee” Humiston, founder of the Maine Military Museum

A lifetime’s fascination with military regalia, along with a dogged determination to honor Maine servicemen, will culminate next month in the official opening of the Maine Military Museum and Learning Center, at 50 Peary Terrance in South Portland.

The gallery, founded three years ago by Leon “Lee” Humiston, has been in its present space next to Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 832 for almost two years. However, while Humiston has happily given tours to anyone willing to knock on the door, the site has remained under renovation.

Now, that work in complete, the doors will open to regular hours, beginning with a grand celebration on Saturday, June 11.

Spokesmen for Gov. Paul LePage and Secretary of State Charlie Summers have confirmed both men will attend the function. According to Humiston, other VIPs include about a dozen POWs, including some from World War II, and “more than 100” bikers, representing groups such as the Patriot Guard, Rolling Thunder and Combat Veterans.

It’s been a long journey for a collection that has slowly accumulated over the course of a single lifetime.

Humiston says his first memory of his father was as a 4-year-old, fascinated by the brightly colored military ribbons on the veterans’ chest.

“I tried to pick those off before he left for the Pacific,” he recalled, noting that nearly everything in South Portland seemed to revolve around the military at the time, given Liberty Ship construction in the local yards.

“But then around 1947, when the war was over and families started getting tired of everything involved with it, they trashed everything,” said Humiston. “Even then, as they do now, South Portland had one day in the spring when they’d pick up the trash for free, and there were just barrels with swords, flags, helmets, uniforms and everything else that the wives finally convinced their husbands to get rid of.”

Even then, Humiston had a sense of history. He librated as much of the martial refuse as he could, and squirreled it away for safekeeping, with the same reverence, and only slightly more boyish enthusiasm.

“We used to play war, we’d dress up in the uniforms,” he said. “We had 1,800 square-feet in our attic, so we had plenty of room to save stuff and store it away. I had no idea at first that I was preserving history. I just loved the military. I loved anything attached to the military.”

The collection grew every year, on each subsequent “big trash day,” and then on into adulthood, whenever Humiston came across some interesting item.

But, apart from the genesis of his collection, Humiston refuses to discuss himself, or his own 26 years of service in the Air Force.

“This has nothing to do with me or my military service,” said Humiston. “It’s not about my father, or my sons or my brothers. It’s about service to this state and to this country.”

The same is true of South Portland real estate investor Gary Crosby, who in 2009 invested about $800,000 to purchase the VFW hall. Crosby was in the middle of a City Council election at the time, and put together the deal on the condition that nobody breathe a word of his donation.

“He didn’t want anything mentioned about it at all,” said Humiston. “It was just quietly done.”

“There was no political motivation to it,” said Crosby, “just as Lee has made sure there is no political slant on any of the displays. This is just history, a record of what was done, with no comment or justification made concerning the sacrifices people made.”

And while politics are scrubbed as much as possible from the artifacts, they cannot help but speak loudly to the time, and places from which they are drawn.

Among the items on display, a North Vietnamese helmet with a bullet hole marked, “my first kill,” a pair of tiny wooden sandals brought back from the rubble of Hiroshima, and a wooden violin, hand carved by Jackson Clark of Glenburn, a Union soldier who died as a prisoner of war in a Confederate camp.

These items, like many in the new museum, have been donated by Maine soldiers and their families since Humiston first put his collection on display in Old Crow Gallery, owned by Stephen Popp.

“I was shocked at how it looked,” recalls Popp. “Every square inch of that gallery was covered with memorabilia. We had 1,700 people come through for that. It was a tremendous time.”

That exhibit led Humiston to secure a city lease on a place in Mill Creek Park, but he quickly outgrew that.

Enter Crosby. With the VFW struggling to maintain it’s building in the face of declining membership, Crosby purchased the property and gave it to Humiston, with the condition that half be set aside as a permanent home for the soldiers themselves, even as Humiston dedicated the other half to preserving their memory. Meanwhile, Crosby brought in a developer to subdivide the outskirts of the lot into seven housing units.

“I did that to subsidize the cost of the project, although I didn’t break even by any stretch of the imagination,” said Crosby. “I’m still out-of-pocket, but that’s not why I did it. It was just a situation that presented a win for everybody. But, most of all, Lee was a very inspiring person to me. He was doing a very good job with what he was doing and I just felt that if I could give his museum a permanent home, it would be here for generations to come.”

“Really, everybody should see this,” said Crosby, “and I’m so excited to see it come together.”

Crocker leaving SPHS

The longtime principal and school’s ‘heart and soul’ cites cut in state benefits as she announces her retirement.

Jeanne Crocker

After 28 years at South Portland High School, including the last 13 as principal, Jeanne Crocker chose a nonchalant, almost offhand way to announce her retirement.

Crocker, who in June will cap off 35 years as an educator to take a position with the Maine Principals’ Association, simply placed the announcement at the end of newsletter to parents.

While the announcement was made with little fanfare, the reason Crocker cited for leaving what she calls her “No. 1 dream job,” however, may cause a bit of a stir.

Less than three hours after the news broke, Crocker, who started as a French and Spanish teacher before moving to administration, sat alone in a room at the school district’s central office, facing a reporter she’d never met. Even then, she had trouble controlling her emotions. Her voice caught in her throat, her eyes welled up, and she had to stop more than once to regain her composure before continuing.

Over and over again, Crocker stressed that she has not lost her passion for the high school, its students or its staff. What drove her from her job, she said, are the policies of Gov. Paul LePage.

“The impetus for this early retirement is the Governor’s proposal to reduce retirement benefits for teachers and administrators, including the elimination of health insurance payments,” she said, in her newsletter.

In person, she did not back off of those claims.

“I am very conflicted and emotional about leaving,” she said. “I bleed Red Riot. That’s my place. I love it there. I am not leaving to leave South Portland. I am leaving because there was another factor I was not anticipating which gave me a shove. I am very sorry and sad to leave, because it has been the most wonderful way to spend my life.

“It was not my plan to leave at this time, but I was really shaken up by the governor’s proposal,” said Crocker, “especially the part about withdrawing health insurance through age 65. There’s a level of resentment, I think it would be fair to say.”

In his biennial budget, unveiled Feb. 10, LePage announced a multi-pronged attack on Maine’s $4.3 million unfunded liability in retirement pensions. By law, the state must pay down that debt by 2028.

Among the changes was a cut in retirement benefits. The state now pays 45 percent of the Maine State Employee Health Plan premium for teachers and school administrators who retire before age 65, so long as they served at least 10 years. LePage’s plan would have taken away that benefit, forcing all public employees retiring after Jan. 1, 2012, to pay 100 percent of their health insurance premiums until reaching age 65.

“My message is clear,” said LePage, in his first budget address. “If you come to work to fill in time until you are age-eligible for retirement, we have built in incentives for you to expedite the process.”

“I am not dead wood,” said Crocker. “I feel like I have been forced to make this decision and that he [LePage] should not have put me in a position where I would be forced to say, do I continue my lifetime commitment to the children of South Portland and give up the benefits I feel I have earned.”

On Tuesday, the governor’s press secretary, Adrienne Bennett, declined comment.

“It’s her prerogative and she should do what she feels is right for her,” said Bennett. “Other than that, we have no direct comment.

Crocker, now 56, says she had planned to wait “at least a couple of years” before retiring. Although she admitted to not having run the exact numbers, Crocker estimates that paying 100 percent of her health insurance bill for five years would have cost her “tens of thousands of dollars.” By retiring before the effective date of the governor’s plan, Crocker locks in the terms now in place.

On May 6, LePage released changes to his plan, restoring the 45 percent payment to those who reach “normal retirement age” – either 60 or 62, depending on date of hire. The cut off date is now July 1, 2012.

However, by that time, the die had been cast. Uncertain what was to come, Crocker submitted a resume to the Maine Principals’ Association (MPA) in mid-April for a job she’d previously been headhunted for, but declined. She interviewed for the position on May 17, and accepted an offer three days later.

“Even though we have strung this out, it still feels very tenuous to me,” said Crocker. “Even if the change in eligibility does go away, in the current atmosphere, it could resurface at an time. To have to pay 100 percent of health insurance for all those years would be very significant. I feel that, after 35 years of these [retirement] plans in place, to change them now should not be a viable consideration.

”Just the fact that a proposal with things like that was put forth gives me some reason to fear,” said Crocker. “The status of educators in our country has changed and I find that to be sad and without basis.

“I worked 90 hours per week,” said Crocker. “I did that gladly and with enthusiasm and I have never felt in and way that I have not been working sufficiently wisely or efficiently to merit my compensation, whether current compensation or future compensating.”

Although Crocker says the jump means a cut in pay – from a base salary of $98,082 in 2009, according to the website maineopengov.org – avoiding a potential cut in insurance benefits means a net gain.

Crocker will leave her SPHS post on June 30 to become MPA’s assistant executive director. In that position, she will “lead professional development for K-12 principals and assistant principals, statewide.”

“This would be my dream job No. 2, perhaps,” she said, noting that her new role seems a natural extension of the “Great Beginnings” seminar she’s given for first-year principals for the past six years, under the auspices of the MPA. “I’m anxious to work with my colleagues on always improving our practice.”

Superintendent Suzanne Godin says Crocker’s job was posted May 20. Applications will be accepted though June 8.

“Jeanne has been the heart and soul of South Portland High School,” Godin said Tuesday. “I am very sorry to see her go. Her leadership has truly moved teaching and learning at the high school to focus on preparing each student for post-secondary learning, career and citizenship, which is their mission.”

Crocker said shifting the focus of instruction from content areas to the individual has been one of her most valued accomplishments at the high school.

“Education, like everything else, is about relationships first,” she said. 

Fostering ninth- and tenth-grade “teams” to smooth the transition from middle school also ranks high, as does last fall’s vote by residents to finance a major renovation and addition to the high school, following an earlier unsuccessful vote.

“That’s been a major commitment of my professional time over the past seven years,” she said of the high school project. “It was very much needed. So to see that that is going to happen is a huge, huge accomplishment that I share with may others.”

As she prepares for a new phase of her professional life, Crocker says she is not the only one looking for the escape hatch.

“A number of people have chosen to retire based on the information they are receiving about changes to the retirement system,” agrees Godin, noting that of 39 open positions going into the next fiscal year, 21 – a recent high – are the result of retirements.

And the exodus is not limited to South Portland, although some educators can retire and be rehired, a move some in the LePage administration refer to as “double-dipping.”

Crocker’s husband, Lloyd Crocker, is principal of the Loranger Middle School, in Old Orchard Beach. He also is retiring this year. However, because he is above age 60, state law would allow him to collect retirement pay while earning full salary and benefits.

“His hope is that he will be successful in being re-hired to continue in his current position,” said Crocker. “Because I am not yet 60, that was not an option for me.”

For now, however, it’s time for goodbyes.

“It will be the people that I miss the most,” said Crocker. “Education is a people business, and I spend way more hours in South Portland High School than I do in my own home.

“It has been an honor and a joy to have spent my professional lifetime here,” said Crocker. “But there is a fabulous staff at South Portland High School and they will absolutely carry on and continue to do exciting things in exciting times.”