Diary of A Hunter

My biological grandfather was an engineer for Boston & Maine RR. His job was to take the sports from Boston to Greenville Junction, Maine. This was in the 30’s to 40’s. While there he would head off to do some fishing or hunting in the northern reaches of Moosehead Lake area. He made friends with a lot of the loggers and guides who pointed the way to the good holes or bedding areas. While there he became very good friends with a cruiser for the Great Northern Paper company. His name was Ralph Chesley and he had a pretty cool job of going into the forest and mapping out ways to get stands of lumber out.

Well, my grandfather became sick and he died, but not before making a request to be buried in the woods that he loved. A telegram was sent to Ralph Chesley asking him if he would handle the task of burying my grandfather’s ashes. Ralph Chesley was met by my Dad and grandmother and they buried his ashes in an area that was near Seboomok Lake.

My grandmother started a correspondence with Ralph and they became friends and eventually married. Over the years the grave site was forgotten and was overgrown by the forest. Ralph has always kept a very detailed diary from the time he was a guide for some rich people to when he took out the German POW’s to cut wood. In one of these diary’s was a description of where he buried my grandfather.

When Ralph died I inherited his diaries and a few other things. Reading the diaries was an eye into the past of life in the woods. I came to the part where he buried my grandfather and it hit me… no one but me knows where this is. I had a quest. I wrote to a bunch of people and a forest ranger wrote back saying he knew where the old camp used to be. I went to Seboomok and started looking around near the old lumber camp. In Ralphs diary, he said it was on a knoll where a freshet would run by in the early months of spring. I started a compass grid and about four hours later I found my grandfathers resting place. It was just two sticks nailed together with a circle quartz rocks.

My grandfather loved the woods and wanted to be buried there and I found it. I go there on a regular basis now and clean things up. I owe so much to a true woodsman Ralph Chesley, who I became to call grandpa. In my heart, he is my grandfather as much as my biological grandfather is. The pictures are of Ralph Chesley’s knives that I carry when I go out. The larger one is made from a file and the smaller one is from LL Bean.I Hope you enjoyed this Sunday morning story, There are so many memories we all have of loved ones who have made such an impact in our lives when it comes to being in the woods or on the water. I hope you will share those stories as the encourage others to get back out there and make memories and stories like these to be forever told through the hunting or fishing camps they will be in.