Do any of you have Hermits where you live?
Growing up we had many, many of them and even today their little shacks are dotted across the landscape. My Great-Grandfather who had 17 teams of horses going at any one time for his potato farming operation, would often employ them, in the summer for farming and logging in the winter. One such hermit broke his back when a tree fell upon him, but he survived to a ripe old age. As youngster I remember going by several hermit cabins until one by one they died off.
They were never a nuisance, they wanted to be by themselves and whether they had lost loves who jaded them, died or divorced I do not know. My mother was wary of them for they all drank, but my father who grew up with them, would stop and give them rides into town where they would get more booze and a bit of grub. But I was never scared of them, I grew up with them too and remember a hermit who every day in the winter would walk back into the woods, fell a cedar by axe, walk out with it upon his shoulder, cross-cut it into blocks of wood, split it and then burn it for the nights heat. EVERYDAY and this was in the 1980's! One day my brother and I used our snowmobile to haul his tree out for him for the snow was deep and you would have thought we had gave him a bride...he was forever grateful.
A few years ago Maine was in the news for the Belgrade Hermit, a man who camped for some twenty years in the woods, but make no mistake about it, he was no real hermit. He was a lazy bum and thief. Unlike the true hermits that I grew up with that worked at what we would call day-laboring today on the area farms and woodlots just to make a wee bit of money for booze and supplies, the Belgrade Hermit stole from the camps that dotted the 5 lakes in that region. He was worshiped (yes worshiped) by many who wanted to assimilate his lifestyle of "living alone in the great Maine woods", but he did no such thing. I give him credit for camping in the dead of winter, but he did not provide for himself, he stole from people who worked hard for their money and now as he spends the rest of his life in prison, I hope he finds the chapel there and realizes like the thief on the cross, he can turn to Jesus for his true hope.
The last hermit that I know of stayed in a huge farmhouse on top of a hill, but could get to town. For breakfast he ate at McDonald's in Belfast and had Dinner at McDonald's in Waterville...everyday...for years. No wonder he had a heart attack, but after getting out of the hospital he claimed he would never go back, and a month or so later, must have sunk into a funk and ended his life. Unto it's own, the house is creepy, but I have been in the loft where he ended it all and the chair is still there, the light streaming in from where the pellets went through the tin roof, and makes your skin crawl just seeing the place.
Where the hermits are now, I am not sure. I suspect societies work ethic has a lot to do with it. And I equally suspect low income housing keeps many in a warm, luxurious environment compared to that of a tiny, drafty cabin in the woods. But I kind of miss them, their stories of the old days, of using cross cut axes to fell the big spruce and pines, of taming cantankerous draft horses, and stopping our family station wagon to give poor old Joe a ride for his Jim Beam. Oh were they ever thankful.
As for gender...most were men, but then there was Orressa Young, but her life story is a story all to itself. I will save that for a later date.
Good Ole Orresa Young...
She was an interesting woman. Some said she was crazy, some said she was worse, but I liked her. She worked hard and wanted nothing from anyone, and when someone did give her a hand out she always repaid them back, ten fold...though it may not be to your liking! I say that because one day my father bushogged our fields, gathered up the hay and gave it to her loose. As repayment she gave her a leg of goat because that is what she raised, just a few goats on her property.
The fact was, it was all she could raise. She had been displaced, her original land taken by eminent domain by the state and made to relocate to a one acre plot near us. It was an old gravel pit so it did not grow great grass, nor did it grow wood, and it was only an acre in size. For buildings, she cobbled them out of what trees she did have, and keep in mind she was well into her 70's when she was forced to move. Her house was a mere shack that got as much rain inside as it did outside, and she survived on electric heat that went far...because there was no insulation to stop it. Summer or winter, water for the goats and herself was hauled up from natural springs hundreds of yards away, and more than once we had to intercede on her behalf to keep the power company from shutting off her power. We had too, she was getting along in her 90's and too blind to read their bill.
Tears comes to my mind now regarding how hard she had it, but she was happy. A product of the depression it was hardly hard times in her mind. She had no husband, no known family, nothing...except for a separate shack she built for Alfred. We thought she was nuts because there was no Alfred in her life until she showed u a picture of him. It was a tattered old black and white photo of a B-24 bomber and Alfred stood in front of it and she was waiting for him to come home even after some 40 years! Was he shot down over Europe and she was never notified since they were never wed, or did he just love her and leave her never to return whether on purpose or by accident? Who knows, but Alfred existed.
Towards the end Oressa was battered by the state. They hired an attorney to kick her out of her ramshackle home, then hired an attorney in her defense to keep her there. It was the stupidest thing ever, but it was the 1980's and Maine had money to burn. It made the local TV news shows and an outcry went up, she is happy, let her be and finally a judge ruled in her favor.
In the end she suffered a heart attack and died well into her 90's, and her place was demolished. Not by the government, but by thieves who knew her meager ways of living meant her social security checks had to be stuffed away somewhere in glass jars just waiting to be found. They never were and I am glad. Thieves working hard for nothing is irony I can live with.
Awesome stories!
+1
We sure didn't have to wait long for Orresa Young's story ;)
We used to have those people. Farming is done now with big machines so they wouldn't have the skills to run them. We don't have much farming left since the Tobacco program ended. The old houses fell in and people started moving back to the country. If a place was starting to get run down enough for a Hermit somebody would tear it down and build a new one. The logging is done with newer bigger equipment. No need to hire someone to follow a horse. Just like the 17 teams for potatoes, that work is being done by a couple of people with big equipment. We had one guy that worked for my Father-in-law when I first went in the logging business with him. He would be beside the road every day waiting for us to pick him up. If he was not there don't bother looking for he was out on a month long drunk. A couple more were around that you could get for a few days at a time. One man had an old School bus about half fixed up as a camper. That is being generous, it slept two of the old fellows and had a wood stove in it. He would move it from log job to log job. He would make the booze runs for them. If he didn't pick it up and they went to town their selves they wouldn't be back til they were broke. I don't know where they went. I do know a couple that went to town. Probably ended up living in homeless shelters or under bridges. No work left for them in the country. No place ti live, no work and to honest to steal. I suspect the next generation of them were Drug addicts instead of drunks. In jail instead of a hut in the woods. Personally I think those people were better of in the woods.
We did not have Hermits but we did have what was labeled as Tramps. They traveled the railroads and would occasionally stop over for food, etc, but not much work.
Much of my family calls me "the hermit", as they know I am most happiest when I am isolated in the woods in a cabin in the U.P.
Interesting stories. I've been called a hermit a time or two. It might not be far from the truth. I bought my place in northeastern VT because there aren't many people around and it's not easy to get to in winter. I'm not overly fond of civilization.
:) I know that feeling Jeff, and I understand the why. smiley_thumbsup
Quote from: Magicman on March 04, 2016, 04:18:17 PM
We did not have Hermits but we did have what was labeled as Tramps. They traveled the railroads and would occasionally stop over for food, etc, but not much work.
Dad always called them Hobos. Said when he was a kid there were more of them and evidently they'd leave a mark on the house somewhere to others to let them know they could get a meal there.
Closest we have here is a young man who drifts around the community picking up odd jobs. Has a drug problem so can't keep anything steady. Lives with various relatives. I pick him up when I see him walking down the road. I offered him a couple days work back in November when I needed a stacker but he was a no show when it came time to go.
Most interesting tale I heard was from the great grandmother in law of a young man my wife used to do dog training with my wife (Becky used to train her shepherds in Schtzhund). The old lady was about 98-99 at the time, mostly deaf and about half blind but her mind was crystal clear. She said when she was a girl, maybe in her early teens, the men were all off in WWI and she and her mom were out in the woods near home and found an old Indian with a broken leg. He refused to live on a reservation and would not come home with them. They helped set and splint his leg, got him into some sort of shelter under a deadfall and left him food for several days. She said he got better and left and they never saw him again but they would find a rabbit or deer quarter on the front step and footprints in the snow but he would not interface with them.
The old lady taught school in her teens at a one room log cabin. She got up on her 100th birthday and made 4 dozen biscuits for the family coming for her party. That was several years ago, Becky has not trained dogs in 7-8 years and we lost contact with the family. I assume the old lady died but never heard.
We had one in town, nice guy, but lazy like beer always had one in his hand. I use to drop off one ton loads of slabs at his house so he would have heat for the winter.
I stoped over one day and asked why he did not cut up the slabs and put them in the wood shed. Said he did not have a chain saw. So I gave him one. 2 weeks later I went by and the saw was where I sat it down the day I gave it to him. I went in his shack and ask why the wood was not cut up. This was November. ::)
Said he could not start it. I tried and it ran. He had some other guys cut and pile some wood in the house for him. Then the snow came , Winter of 2014/2015. I went in and you could see your breath in the house, wood I gave him out side buried in snow. I went home and got a truck load of dry firewood put it in his house. Big pile on the living room floor. I did that all winter.
Other people gave him wood too. So I felt use a little. But I try to help him. But , he did not help himself.
There was more wood in his yard I gave him from last year. he did cut some or some one did. He was 59 and died 2 weeks ago.
And yes, he had family in town.
You can perhaps say that its from loss of habitat and the removal of the wild places that has the Hermit population down so much. As time advances and people rely on technology more and more, that and coupled with most people never living through a great depression or there parents or even grand parents. I personally have never seen a hermit (aside from a crab) homeless and bums yes but no actual hermits. That and with delaware being only around 2000 sq mi I dont think there is any wild places to support them.
i met wendal beckwith about 45 years ago. he was a well known hermit in canada. should be able to google him and get some pics of the beautiful place he built. when i moved to northern wi in the 70's there were still the hermit types around the area. when i'd get laid off in the winter from the mill where i worked, i'd get a job working in the woods with some of the local 'hermits'. a couple of my wife's uncles fell into this category. it was nothing unusual for them not to show up for work once they were paid, at least until they drank up their paycheck. on one job we got paid on monday so people would show up for work and on another we were paid when the job was finished. i haven't thought of those times in years. thanks for the thread.
I think I mentioned this in another thread but my grandfather once started a tie cutting operation down in central Florida. He got 25 cents a tie and paid his helpers 15 cents while the norm was a nickel. His guys would work 2 days then lay out. He dropped pay to a dime and they'd work 3-4 days. He finally dropped to 5 cents like everyone else and his crew would work all week long including weekends. They were used to making a certain amount of money and would stop when they got it.
My Mother, now at 98, has told me many stories about the old bachelor farmers in Minnesota when she was growing up. Many alone, sometime two brothers, living in small, beat up shacks, barely getting by. She remember when she was 5 or 6 years old her Father brought one of the bachelors for Christmas Eve dinner. Most from that evening was knowing he hadn't had a bath since the prior summer.
Quote from: Onthesauk on March 04, 2016, 07:59:40 PM
My Mother, now at 98, has told me many stories about the old bachelor farmers in Minnesota when she was growing up. Many alone, sometime two brothers, living in small, beat up shacks, barely getting by. She remember when she was 5 or 6 years old her Father brought one of the bachelors for Christmas Eve dinner. Most from that evening was knowing he hadn't had a bath since the prior summer.
Last summer we were headed to town and saw a broken down truck on I-64 and a man walking with a gas can. We stopped and picked him up, took him to the next exit to a gas station. While he was getting his gas my 3 y/o granddaughter told me "Let's go Grandpa." I told her we had to wait for the man to finish. She said "He stinks." I guess she figured since she had to share the back seat with him she should have some say in the matter. We took him back and watched him get cranked up and back to the gas station. Kids need to learn to help when they can even if a little unpleasant at times. Might be me broke down next time - like Thanksgiving Day in Chattahoochie Fla on my way to my grandfather's funeral many years ago and a guy on his way to Mississippi family get together picked me up, took me to gas station and back to my vehicle where my wife, 3 & 1 y/o kids were waiting.
You always need to ask yourself what you would want a trusting stranger to do if your family was in an unfortunate situation.
We used to have Hermits living under bridges in the country. No trolls, just Hermits.
If you ever see me living under the bridge please throw me a warm cheeseburger.
Quote from: Mooseherder on March 04, 2016, 11:47:37 PM
If you ever see me living under the bridge please throw me a warm cheeseburger.
We may both be under there before its all over. :D
I was a handfull when i was younger and ended up homeless when i was 15 police caught me sleeping in the lobby at the post office put me in a cell overnight fed me this became a regular thing till i got a job in the spring met my wife when i was 18 and have never been homeless again. I may never be rich in the way most measure wealth but we own our own place we raised 2 girls we now have 2 grandsons and have lived a far better life than i ever thought i could and for that i am gratefull. :) :) :)
I often wondered if maybe modern medicine might also to be to blame for the demise of the American Hermit? Could it be with new anti-depression drugs and more awareness about alcohol and that sort of thing stop some of it?
I don't suffer from those things, I have never drank, smoked, even tried drugs and basically have lived a charmed life in many respects, but if my dear wife was to die I might be a hermit. I have the ability to cobble up a nice small cabin out in the woods and instead rent out the houses I now have. I would not get married again I know that. I am not against marriage, I am actually a huge proponent of it, but I met the love of my life. It is not too difficult for me to comprehend how a generation or two ago, with the loss of their wives that was where some of these people gravitated towards hermitness.
Yup, in my mind I separate the term Hermit from Homeless. My idea of a Hermit is someone who has his home, whatever that may be, and lives back in the sticks and is, for the most part, self sustaining. Him living alone may or may not be a choice, and he may or may not enjoy company.
We have had several Homeless folks that put together a shelter from scraps of plywood, cardboard, and other scrounged articles, and may live without being noticed in a small patch of woods, etc. very close to town. We had one a couple of years ago that had his "dwelling" between the interstate and off ramp. He was close but hidden. After he was found dead, the highway department removed the underbrush from that intersection. There is another now that has his shelter between two streets but is accessed only by the railroad. The funny thing is that my Grandsons walk the tracks and told us about him.
I do not consider either a Hermit, but rather a Homeless person.
I think by the time most married men get to be about 40 being a hermit starts to look pretty good!!! Just saying. :D :D
I am often a Hermit at the Cabin and Hermits can have company. Jeff and I were Hermits for a week, but we did not mind when Pat came and brought more food. smiley_thumbsup
As Magicman said a Hermit is not homeless, he simply lives alone away from the rest. Since I retired 4 years ago, I have spent 50 to 60% of my time at my old farm house that belonged to my great grand parents. It is a simple 675 square foot, Jenny Lind style house, wood heat. No running water until 2011. Located 2 mile out, at end of a dead end road,very peaceful.
I raise a garden, a field corn patch, and patch of sugarcane for sorghum have 20 or so chickens, a couple pigs for slaughter, and recently bought my Norwood mill. Presently building saw shed for it. All of this keeps me busy and active.
I have in the winter months, not left the holler for 10 to 12 days. My wife usually comes by and feeds me every few days. I jokingly tell people I go home once a month to service her.
During winter months, I think I am what would be classified as a hermit. Summer time I'm there a lot, but have too many other thing to keep busy with, like mowing grass at four different places and my favorite summer time and fall activities. Motorcycle riding and traveling with the wife.
Upon reflecting, I might have hermit tendencies. I lost my wife (the love of my life) 6 years ago. If it was not for my son (6 at he time), I might have moved out of town. I say in town because of the good schools and I can't afford to sell my house - buying something smaller, I'd pay more in taxes :-\ So once he is off to college, I can see spending a lot of time at my soon-to-be cabin. Lots of fishing to be done up there! ;)
Last night I looked up Wendell Beckwith.He was a very interesting man.Check him out.Definitely a hermit.Walked away from wife and family but only after setting up a trust for them.
I've always considered someone to be a hermit when they avoid other people, their living conditions aside. There are a lot of terms for different kinds of folks- hermit, vagrant, hobo, bum, trump, homeless. When I was a kid, every town seemed to have a 'hobo jungle' somewhere out in the woods. Most of them were considered fairly harmless. Now days, many homeless have serious drug problems, and theft and drug dealing is their way of life- anything but harmless.
There are plenty of Family's living paycheck to paycheck . Most are just two paychecks away from loosing the roof over their head . Be thankful it is not you .
Remnants of the last hermit shack in the county. I'm not sure exactly when, or for what reason he moved on but I'm betting he never saw a dime of the money his property over looking the river sold for. The McMansion that now has his view from the bluff overlooking the river looks pricey.
(https://forestryforum.com/gallery/albums/userpics/38506/20160306_113948.jpg)
The Hermit that was mentioned in Afraidchocker's post.
http://www.pressherald.com/maines-north-pond-hermit/