Is it a Maine morning without Condon's Garage?

The building will be sold and then, who knows? Another village institution, like the grange, the Odd Fellows, and the church sewing circle, receding into the past, to be replaced by the pale reflection of antique stores and tourist shops.

* * *

Don paused when I asked if he has a favorite story to tell. No sense in just blurting things out before you ponder the question a while. Then, slowly: "Over the years bicycle tires have caused as much of a dilemma as anything, I guess."

Seems that Gook (Oliver Bakeman, Jr., who ran the general store over in West Brooksville for many years) was hanging around the garage one day when a young man came up on a bike all outta breath. "Do you have an air hose?" he asked. "Yep," Gook answered, warning the young man that the air comes out of that hose pretty fast, so best be careful. To which the young man replied, "I know. I've done this before." Gook watched the young man wrestle with the hose. The tire exploded. Gook continued to watch – silent, unfazed; no need to waste any more words on this one.

Once Don got going on the bike stories, he seemed to be almost enjoying himself. He offered another: "A bunch of people on bicycles rolled in here on a Saturday afternoon." One young man was eyeing the cars out back and then asked to borrow a screwdriver. Don asked why. The fellow explained that he collected license plates from all over the country and that he wanted one he'd seen out back. Don ordered him off the property.

The story continued: Before Don had time to cool off, another cyclist came along. This one's chain needed a repair, so Don welded it for him. "I held my tongue at first, then I mentioned how I'd run another bicyclist off the property earlier." This cyclist paid him and left. A few days later, Don received a generous L.L.Bean gift certificate in the mail from Leon Gorman (L.L.'s grandson and chairman of the board) to thank him.

So, Don concluded, you never know about people; not all bicyclists are alike.

I was hesitant to bring up the McCloskey topic. Mainers don't like to make a fuss over famous people, and we get more than our share of them in the summertime. So I weighed my odds – I certainly haven't mastered the dance, but I try to step lightly.

Now that Don had brought up Leon Gorman, I took the opening. And he was quick to offer his opinion, noting what an ordinary, likeable sort the writer was, and how both Russ and Dick enjoyed seeing themselves in the pages of the book, as McCloskey saw them. "And he did a pretty good job of getting them right," Don noted. He generously credited McCloskey with making a good story out of this humble place. And recalling the children who still come in every summer asking him to sign a copy of "One Morning in Maine," the hint of a smile crossed Don's face. (Maybe they'll follow the sign taped up on a window earlier this month: "DON and SERVICING HAVE MOVED TO HERRICK RD.")

Don strolled over to check on Patrick's progress with the Whaler, indicating that the interview was over.

On my way out, a smudged cocktail napkin tacked up on a cedar post in the middle of the room near the wood stove caught my eye: "God Bless us ALL ... even the summer people." Which pretty much sums up the whole thing, I suppose. Change comes hard, but it was a good run.

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