MORNING SENTINEL • January 8, 2021
On cold winter nights in the 1960s, we bundled up, tied the laces of our skates together and threw them over our shoulders to head to the reservoir. The reservoir was the source of the water supply for the town of Skowhegan, and we neighborhood kids trudged across a large field by moonlight, entered the woods and made a beeline for the ice. Once there, we donned our skates and raced round and round that reservoir until we had barely enough energy to hike home. My brothers, sisters and I all wore hockey skates. By the time I was a young teenager and tried my first pair of figure skates, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. ~ Amy Calder