I Was Content and Not Content: The Story of Linda Lord and the Closing of Penobscot Poultry

Overview

Most studies of deindustrialization in the United States emphasize the economic impact of industrial decline; few consider the social, human costs. "I Was Content and Not Content": The Story of Linda Lord and the Closing of Penobscot Poultry is a firsthand account of a plant closure, heavily illustrated through photographs and told through edited oral history interviews. It tells the story of Linda Lord, a veteran of Penobscot Poultry Company in Belfast, Maine, and her experience when the plant—Maine’s last ...

See more details below
Available through our Marketplace sellers.
Other sellers (Hardcover)
  • All (19) from $1.99   
  • New (3) from $53.89   
  • Used (16) from $1.99   
Close
Sort by
Page 1 of 1
Showing All
Note: Marketplace items are not eligible for any BN.com coupons and promotions
$53.89
Seller since 2015

Feedback rating:

(366)

Condition:

New — never opened or used in original packaging.

Like New — packaging may have been opened. A "Like New" item is suitable to give as a gift.

Very Good — may have minor signs of wear on packaging but item works perfectly and has no damage.

Good — item is in good condition but packaging may have signs of shelf wear/aging or torn packaging. All specific defects should be noted in the Comments section associated with each item.

Acceptable — item is in working order but may show signs of wear such as scratches or torn packaging. All specific defects should be noted in the Comments section associated with each item.

Used — An item that has been opened and may show signs of wear. All specific defects should be noted in the Comments section associated with each item.

Refurbished — A used item that has been renewed or updated and verified to be in proper working condition. Not necessarily completed by the original manufacturer.

New
Brand New Item.

Ships from: Chatham, NJ

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Canadian
  • International
  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
  • Express, 48 States
  • Express (AK, HI)
$59.71
Seller since 2008

Feedback rating:

(218)

Condition: New

Ships from: Chicago, IL

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
$60.00
Seller since 2015

Feedback rating:

(241)

Condition: New
Brand new.

Ships from: acton, MA

Usually ships in 1-2 business days

  • Standard, 48 States
  • Standard (AK, HI)
Page 1 of 1
Showing All
Close
Sort by
Sending request ...

Overview

Most studies of deindustrialization in the United States emphasize the economic impact of industrial decline; few consider the social, human costs. "I Was Content and Not Content": The Story of Linda Lord and the Closing of Penobscot Poultry is a firsthand account of a plant closure, heavily illustrated through photographs and told through edited oral history interviews. It tells the story of Linda Lord, a veteran of Penobscot Poultry Company in Belfast, Maine, and her experience when the plant—Maine’s last poultry-processing plant— closed its doors in 1988, costing over four hundred people their jobs and bringing an end to a once productive and nationally competitive agribusiness.

Linda Lord’s story could be that of any number of Americans—blue- and white-collar—effected by the rampant and widespread downsizing over the past several decades. She began working at Penobscot straight out of high school and remained with the company for over twenty years. Lord worked in all aspects of poultry processing, primarily in the "blood tunnel," where she finished off the birds that had been missed by the automatic neck-cutting device—a job held by few women. Single and self-supporting, Lord was thirty-nine years old when the plant closed. In part because she was the primary caretaker for her elderly parents, Lord did not want to leave Maine for a better job but did want to stay in the area that had been her home since birth.

The book is comprised of distinct sections representing different perspectives on Lord’s story and the plant’s demise. Cedric N. Chatterley’s gritty black-and-white photographs, reproduced here as duotones, document the final days at the poultry plant and chronicle Lord’s job search, as well as her daily life and community events. Lord’s oral history interviews, interspersed with the photographs, reveal her experiences working in poultry processing and her perspectives on the plant’s closing. Carolyn Chute’s essay reflects on her own struggles as a worker in Maine, and, more generally, on the way workers are perceived in America. Alicia J. Rouverol’s historical essay explores the rise and fall of Maine’s poultry industry and the reasons for its demise. Stephen A. Cole’s epilogue brings the story full circle when he tells of his most recent visit with Linda Lord. Michael Frisch (Portraits in Steel, A Shared Authority) contributes a foreword.

Lord’s story and the story of Penobscot’s closing brings into question the relationship of business to community, reminding us that businesses and communities are in fact integrally linked—or, perhaps more accurately, should be. Her narrative makes plain that plant closings have particular ramifications for women workers, but her experience also points to the way in which all individuals cope with change, hardship, and uncertain times to create possibilities where few exist. Perhaps most important, her story reveals some of the challenges and complexities that most human beings share.

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher
"The governor said not to worry. New jobs were on the way. Tourism was coming. You’ll have lots of jobs soon. We tried to grin and bear the VACATIONLAND red-lobster license plates. Some tried to grin and bear the new tourist-related jobs that were always part-time jobs and offered low pay, no benefits. People even grinned through seeing the tourists who decided to STAY and live in Maine where life is as it ought to be... tourists whose willingness to pay any price skyrocketed the price of a home. . . a price low-pay working people could not afford, and better-pay working people thought they could afford, going into debt neck-deep.

"Everybody was grinning."

                       —Carolyn Chute

“The story of Belfast, as related in this compassion­ate and sorely needed book, suggests that in the pull and tug between capital and community, capital is coming out ahead.”—New York Times Book Review

Anthony Walton
[The authors] probe in depth the story of one working woman in Belfast. . . . The story of Belfast, as related in this compassionate and sorely needed book, suggests that in the pull and tug between capital and community, capital is coming out ahead.
The New York Times Book Review
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780809322374
  • Publisher: Southern Illinois University Press
  • Publication date: 12/28/1999
  • Edition description: 1st Edition
  • Pages: 160
  • Lexile: 1150L (what's this?)
  • Product dimensions: 8.50 (w) x 11.00 (h) x 0.50 (d)

Meet the Author

Alicia J. Rouverol is a folklorist and research associate currently working as a research associate at the Southern Oral History Program, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

Cedric N. Chatterley’s photography has been supported by the National Endowment for the Arts and state and humanities agencies in Illinois, Maine, North Carolina, and South Dakota.

Stephen A. Cole is on the staff of Coastal Enterprises, Inc., a community development corporation based in Wiscasset, Maine. He lives in Belfast, Maine.

Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt




Chapter One


Interviews with Linda Lord


The following abbreviations have been used in the interviews: AR refers to Alicia J. Rouverol; CC refers to Cedric N. Chatterley; SC refers to Stephen A. Cole; and LL refers to Linda J. Lord.


March 1, 1988; Gallagher's Galley, Brooks, Maine


SC Linda, were you born in Brooks?

LL No, I was born up in Waterville at the old sisters' hospital. But I've always lived here in Brooks.... I went to my freshman year at Moss Memorial High School, and then they were building the area school up on Knox Ridge, and I started my sophomore year up there and graduated from Mount View [in 1967]. After high school I went right into the hospital for an operation, and I wasn't supposed to work for a year; and come September, I got edgy and I started working a short time over at the [Unity] hatchery before I went down to the plant.


SC What did you do?
LL I de-beaked chickens, sexed them, injected them, de-toed them, de-beaked them, you name it I did it. [laughs]


CC What is de-beaking?
LL De-beaking is burning part of the bill off so they don't peck each other as they get bigger....


SC And then you learned to sex chickens, too. We hear that's rather a specific
and actually sort of hard-to-learn task. Did you like working out there?
LL It was all right. It was a job. At that time I was young, and I wanted to stayclose to home on account of my mom being ill. And I wasn't there very long before they transferred me down at the plant because things were getting slow. It was either they were going to be laying off, or I had a chance to go up to the plant. I had looked around for other jobs, and I figured, well, I had been working with the company, I'd stay with them. So I went down to Penobscot.
SC Let me back up a little bit. Did you go to the hatchery to work initially because your dad had also worked in the poultry industry?
LL My father had been a pullorum [poultry blood] tester for a good number of years with the University of Maine. He did work for Penobscot and at the time for Maplewood [closed 1980]. Of course, during the summers, I worked for him testing birds. So I got to know quite a lot. Of course, we raised birds, too; we had laying hens for Maplewood so I'd grown right up. But no, that wasn't why I went over to the hatchery. It was, at that time, that was just about the only place that was hiring, you know. And I wanted a job. I was getting edgy not doing anything, even though I was supposed to stay out a year and not even work.


SC Did other people you know from Mount View also hook up with Penobscot for a job?
LL Not too many, no. As a matter of fact, a lot of the guys in my class were wiped out in Vietnam. I think we lost four or five. And the ones that did come back were disabled or not with it or either freaked right out on dope, you know.


SC That's a large number of people from one high school. Well, probably your graduating class wasn't all that large in the end.
LL I think it was a little over—maybe like a hundred and twenty in our class. I can't remember now, but I've got it on the back of my diploma....


SC So they transferred you down to Penobscot. What did you start doing there?
LL Transferring. That's hanging [poultry] from the "New York" room after the feathers have been taken off and they've gone through the foot cutter—they drop down to the belt. I was working on Line Two, which did big birds and small birds.... But I kept breaking the skin away from my nails and getting blood poisoning streamers going right up my arm, so that's when I signed up for the sticking job. And the pay was a lot better. At that time I was going through a divorce, so I was out to get as much money as I could to support myself.


SC What specifically was your job then?
LL Just putting the bird into the shackle going out on the eviscerating line, after the feet have been cut off. They drop down on a belt which came to you, and you just would put them in a shackle so they could go out to be opened up and their intestines drawn out, and get your heart and liver and so forth out of the bird.


SC So it's rough on your hands. How do you think that caused blood poisoning?
LL Well, you take that infection that would set in, even though you'd try washing your hands good. And eventually it would get into your blood system and pretty soon, if you didn't take antibiotics or something, you'd have red streamers going right up your arm. And you'd take what helped to cut the feathers so they would pick better—the solution they added with the water [to remove the feathers]—and you'd take it with the grease and stuff, and that would cause you more trouble and make your skin peel right off your hands, too. My hands now are even sensitive to hot and cold where I was transferring, and it's been a number of years.


SC So how long did you do that?
LL About four or five years, then I signed right up for the rest of the time to go right out sticking.


SC Were there a fair number of other people who work on the lines who have had these kinds of problems?
LL Everybody's had problems that's been there. A lot of people have had warts come out on their hands because of handling chicken. A lot of people have had tendinitis, you know. That work is hard work down there. And they've had blood poisoning, you name it. Or you get, well—what do they call it? You have like a rash break out all over you from the chickens, too, which eventually will blister right up with little pus sacks, and the skin will peel right off your hand, and they call it—"chicken poisoning" is what they call it. And I've seen people get it from wearing rubber gloves.


SC Wow. Were you ever able to get any satisfaction from the company in terms of better conditions so that wouldn't happen? You had health benefits, right?
LL Yeah, and if you had blood poisoning or anything, they'd send you right down to the hospital to try to get it cleared up. At that time they would put you on easy jobs until you either got over tendinitis or the rash on your hands and so forth. But as workmen's comp passed a few laws and stuff, then they had people just stay right out of work. They didn't want you even in there doing light work.


SC Did that mean that if people had a problem, they were less likely to tell the company if that meant they now had to go home?


LL A lot of people would stick it out and not say much. Because you had to be out over three days in order to draw on workmen's comp. If you were out maybe one or two days, you just couldn't get anything—you lost a couple days work. So a lot of people just kept going.
SC So that job you had four or five years, and that's a total of how many years that you were at Penobscot?
LL Twenty years in all with the company.


SC Twenty years. So after that [transferring] it was into the sticking room or the "blood tunnel"?
LL The sticking room, the "blood tunnel," or what I called the "hell hole," where they had so much blood. [laughter] No one wanted to come in there when you were in there. You were just by yourself until you got done work.
When I first started out sticking, we didn't have any machinery in there then, except for just the stunners. And that first stunner that made the bird's head hang down is where we usually sat—two of us. There were two stickers in there and we had to do every other bird running right in a full line. And then about '79 ... they were thinking about increasing the production down there. So they went into the sticking machines, which at first didn't pan out very good. But after a while, about a half a year, they got it straightened out so it would do a pretty good job. And then you had to back up the machine.


SC So initially the stunner stunned the bird, but you had to stick them.
LL Right. Grab it, take a knife and cut the vein right in by the jaw bone.


SC So, by stunning, essentially that means that the bird was in shock?
SC Were the birds all pretty much dead by the time they got to you?


LL No, they were still, you know, flopping their last flop before they died. That's why I was more or less, as you could see—with the rain kerchief, I was more or less covered right up so I wouldn't get too bloody.... The machine got, oh, maybe sixty-five to seventy percent of the birds, and the rest I had to do....
SC Did you make more money working in that job?
LL Yeah, because that was top pay. I mean I got the same as the trailer truck drivers did. The last of it then was $5.69 an hour, which was more than what the people were getting on the line. Maybe five, ten, fifteen, or twenty cents more—because each job through that plant you had different wages.... The trailer truck drivers, or straight job drivers, and stickers and weighers got the same wages—$5.69 an hour.


CC What was it paying when you first started working at Penobscot?
LL When I first went in there, maybe like $3.25, $3.75 an hour. That was way back in '67. [Between 1967 and 1988] we got up to $5.69 an hour. I remember one summer working there, I made $1.25 an hour working in the plant. That was before I was out of high school.


SC And your wages were dependent on what the union could negotiate, right? They didn't simply increase by ten cents every six months or something.
LL No, every two years when we had another contract—whether we get a ten cent raise the first year, and maybe a five cent raise, or a ten and ten—which- ever we could bargain on at that time and vote for it, is what we got. As far as the cost of living was going up, it didn't help our wages go up, you know. We had that contract that we had accepted and that's what we got.
SC Not a very strong union, or was it a strong, good union? Which would you say?
LL I wouldn't really call them strong, no.
SC There was a strike a few years back.
LL Right, we were out on strike.... Must have been in about '84, I would say. I had to—I was a line steward—I had to go along. I didn't go for it at that time. To me, I figured the union was playing little cat-and-mouse games with the company, which almost cost us our chance of not getting back into that company. Because George Lewis, at that time, he had had it. We had a—what do you call it, a mediator or something.... It was just at a standstill, and a lot of people were getting hard up then and stuff. I did make a call to the mediator and talked with him and told him that a lot of people wanted to go back....
SC What was the crux of the issue? Was it higher wages? Was that the reason people went out?
LL It was higher wages. They wanted us to pay for our medical bills and insurance and so forth and drop our wages at the same time. And, of course, the union people told us that we could draw unemployment and get food stamps. And people thought, well, gee, this is gonna be great, we have a vacation. I tried to tell them, you go strike you cannot get unemployment, you cannot get food stamps, and so forth.
Well, they voted. After they voted down there in the hall at the Blue Goose and they found out a few things more, then they regretted the way they had voted. But we had to wait almost two weeks before we could go back and vote again about accepting the contract. We didn't have to wind up paying anything on insurance, but we had a $250 deductible—which for a married family, it hurt them quite a lot. Because that wasn't just on the whole family, it was on each individual. For me, where I was single, okay. It was only $250, you know, no sweat. I could probably pay it off in a short while anyway. But the married people, it really hurt because as far as the children, the wives, or the husband, it was $250 for each one.
SC So how long was the union out on strike total?
LL Two weeks.
SC And when you came back, you had to accept the offer that Penobscot made at the beginning?
LL Right. As far as I'm concerned, we lost more than what we gained being out on strike. We lost money, yeah. Not only that, but they hired what you call scab help coming in, which—the plant wasn't running that great. There was a lot of hard feelings there for a while, but we got back and people got their jobs back and they were happy, you know—even though we did lose a lot.
SC They hired scabs from in town and around the area?
LL Right, around the area. And people that they bad fired before at Penobscot and were never hired back, they hired them back as scab help.
SC You folks had set up picket lines there every day?
LL Right. Yeah, each day we each had different hours that we came in, so that there was someone right there twenty-four hours a day. And there was some damage done to trailer trucks that came in and so forth, but I didn't go for it. I tried telling the people, keep your nose clean and say what you want to on TV, but don't do damage because it's only hurting us. And they had pulled out pins from on the trailers and the guy pulled out and the whole load dropped down and stuff. And he came out with a bat, and I just told the people, I said, "Get out away from here." I had a pretty good idea who did it, but I wouldn't say anything, you know. I said, "You're only hurting yourselves. Let's try to keep this clean and hope we can get our jobs back."


CC So when you went back to work, did you make any more money at all?
LL We got a ten cent raise the first year, and then I think it was another ten cents the second year. [According to an article in the Maine Times (30 March 1984), the workers received a sixty-five cent raise; however, they had taken a fifty-six cent pay cut previously. So the ten cent raise Linda is referring to takes into account the earlier pay cut.] But it didn't make up for what we lost in the two weeks we were out. And the way the insurance went, too, it—you know, we lost a lot....
CC So the insurance was actually worse after the strike?
LL It was, yes....


SC Would you say the benefits at Penobscot were pretty good based on—
LL They were for a while until the laws and, of course, the cost of insurance stuff made it harder for the company to try to pay for all of this.


SC When you folks were out on strike, what were George Lewis's reasons for not being able to give the union what they were asking for?
LL The major reason was what it cost to raise birds here. You see, it cost a lot more up here than it did down South. So you can't give the people as much money, really. I mean, he claimed he had a margin that he had to go by. He knew what he could and couldn't do—and if we went for higher wages and stuff, there was no way that he could keep running and make ends meet and make money.
SC I don't think we ever asked how much of a raise the union was going for during the strike.
LL Oh, they started out with a dollar, but you know, you kept going and negotiating, it kept coming down maybe like 50/50 or 20/20 or 25/20. It wound up being what the company offered us was 10 and 10 [ten cents per hour the first year and ten cents per hour the second year on a two-year contract].


SC Right. [pause] What would you say about most of the folks you work with at Penobscot if you were to describe them as a group?
LL The majority of them were people that never had much of an education or didn't get through their education, okay. Some of them couldn't even hardly sign their names or make out an application form. Then you had some people that were a family, they had completed their education, who were fairly smart. But it was fairly good wages and close to home and they worked there.
SC How would you describe yourself? Where would you put yourself in those groups?
LL I regret the way things started out after graduation, having that operation and stuff. If I hadn't had to go in for that operation, I probably would have gone to college, okay. And like I said, my momma had been ill for a long time. She had one bad heart attack after the other. And then she wound up with a stroke and being paralyzed. So I more or less figured, well, you know, I was making fairly good money. I was able to save money. I stuck it out for that reason—to be close to home for my father. But now I regret that I haven't furthered myself as far as education.


SC Would you say you were discontent, though, during the years you worked at Penobscot?
LL I really wasn't happy. When I first went to work there, my hands were awful sore. They would swell up. You'd go home and you'd soak them and try to get so you could move them. And about when you got up in the morning so you could move your hands, you were back in there and you had to go through it again. Oh, it might take two or three months, and finally your hands get used to it. But it was a job. It was a fairly good paying job for around this area at that time. So, in some ways, I was content and not content.


SC What would you say about most of your fellow workers there? Do you think they were content or discontent?
LL A lot of them were because, like I said, they didn't try to better themselves in high school and so forth. So I mean they were content as long as they had money. Some of them would go buy beer, or the family people could support their family and get by—you know, it was all right.


SC Did a lot of men work there who had a wife and kids that they were trying to support on a Penobscot Poultry income?
LL Yes, there was a lot of them, quite a few. Up and downstairs, both [further processing and the slaughtering area, respectively].


SC What about by age? Would you say the majority of the people there were middle-aged or younger, or did it vary a whole lot?
LL I would say there were more middle-aged and older people in their fifties and near their sixties than there were the real young. The young people you couldn't keep in there. This day and age, young people they don't know what work is. They don't want to work. They figure there's so much welfare and stuff that they can draw on and stretch it for all it's worth.
We had a lot of people that would just come in and right out the door; might not even stay a couple hours, because they didn't know what hard work was. See, I was brought up on a farm. I've always had to work hard all my life, so as far as putting in a hard day's work, it didn't bother me. But a lot of these younger people that are just standing on the corner, hands in their pockets after they got out of school days, they don't know what hard work is.


CC So they'd come in and maybe work a day or two?


LL A day, or maybe a couple hours, and out the door they went. They didn't want any part of it.
SC And I suppose a lot of these middle-aged folks, like you, had put in a good number of years at Penobscot?
LL Right. And some had put in longer years than I had, maybe thirty or thirty-five years. I know one woman that pin-feathered in the New York room—she had in thirty-five years. And she raised her family on what she earned there at the plant.


SC That's a long time to work anywhere. It really is.
CC Have those people talked to you about how they feel about the plant closing?
LL We all felt bad. I mean, after a while I guess it was just like home, right? You've got your friends that you associated with each day. Now I didn't associate with that many, but a lot of people knew me. I had a few that I was very close with that were good people, you know....


SC Pretty good crowd overall, you'd say, among the workers, or did it vary a lot?
LL They all got along fine as far as working. There might have been a few fights on the lines and so forth. But a lot of them, once you were outside the plant, it was a different story, because they couldn't fight in the plant. There was a rule that they'd be automatically fired. But a lot of them were pretty roughneck; I mean they were brought up in barrooms. But your family people that were married and stuff, they usually went home and they minded their own business.... But as far as people working together, you know, the majority of people usually got along fine. If there was any real problem, if it was related to work, then that's when your line stewards and your chief stewards stepped in with the union people to try to get it straightened out before it got too far.


SC If problems developed on the line, was that because someone wasn't doing their job, and so it made problems for people further on down the line?
LL Mostly the machinery wasn't working right, okay. And they just kept pushing people and expecting them to do their top job, you know. And if the machines weren't working right, you couldn't get the production that you were supposed to get.


SC So that meant that management would come down on you?
LL Right, and then in order to try and get it straightened out, or try to get the machinery straightened out, it might take maybe a half a year, or a year, you know, and you went along that way. It would just make it hard on the working people.


SC How were the managers there?
LL You had some good ones and you had some bad ones.... But you had a few there—I won't name them—but they were just out to see what they could get off of women. And if you didn't put out, then they made it rough, tried to get—fire you.
SC So they tried to make demands on you. Try to see you after work or something?
LL Right, yeah. I had trouble with one foreman when I used to come in and set up in the morning. Because I'd be in there at four o'clock in the morning, setting up one whole line, getting ready for seven o'clock. I had one that gave me quite a hard time—tried to see me fired. But it didn't work. I stood my ground. We had the top people in from the company, argued it out. He was supposed to not harass me and leave me alone....


CC You said you'd go in there at four o'clock in the morning to get things started. Tell us about that. I mean, what would you get started?
LL Okay. Like, I had all of Line One. I was hooking up the pipes, made sure the shackles weren't bent, machinery was running and so forth, and put machinery in its place. You know, just made sure everything was put together for when the line started at 7:05.


CC And if you showed up at four o'clock, then what time would you get off work?
LL When the rest of the line got done. Whether it was three, four, five, six o'clock.


CC And would you get paid for the—
LL I got time and a half for overtime. Anything over eight hours, I got time and a half.... And I used to come in on weekends and do a lot of painting and stuff, too, or maintenance work on the lines. Because they knew that I could—you know, they trusted me as far as coming in and getting the work done. They could rely on me. I wasn't one to miss much time.... Where I was single, I was out to get all I could make to support myself.


SC How were the Lewises as owners? Do you think they were generally pretty concerned about the place and about the people who worked there?
LL George was, and I think Bernie was until he came down with this cancer.... And I think that's one reason why he [Bernie] decided to fold up the plant, was on account of his health after he lost his father in May. [George Lewis died in May 1987.] George was very concerned; a lot of things he didn't realize were going on. And when we got to negotiating and I would bring up—I said, "You know, George, who was supposed to let you know what's going on here in the plant and how things were run?" Well, there was certain people in the office who were supposed to make out a report and let him know what's going on—which they were making it look good on paper, but it actually wasn't happening there in the plant. It got so that George himself was coming in maybe once a week, twice a week, whenever he felt like coming in every week, to find our just what was going on. He'd talk with the people. He really took an interest in trying to keep the place going. He was in his eighties then. ... And George would try to make short cuts and things to make things easier for people, too. I mean, he'd come right down and watch people working on the lines and so forth, seeing if there wasn't some way to make things a little bit better so he could get a better production, too, when he found out he wasn't getting things on paper the way they were supposed to be.
Read More Show Less

Table of Contents

Foreword Michael Frisch ix
Acknowledgments xiii
Photographer's Note CEDRIC N. CHATTERLEY xv
Introduction ALICIA J. ROUVEROL xvii
Interviews with Linda Lord
March 1, 1988 1
March 15, 1988 40
Apri1 20, 1988 48
September 10, 1988 61
January 30, 1989 64
February 8, 1989 69
December 1, 1994 74
Essays
Faces in the Hands CAROLYN CHUTE 85
The Closing of Penobscot Poultry ALICIA J. ROUVEROL 95
Retelling the Story of Linda Lord ALICIA J. ROUVEROL 117
Epilogue STEPHEN A. COLE 133
Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Be the first to write a review
( 0 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(0)

4 Star

(0)

3 Star

(0)

2 Star

(0)

1 Star

(0)

Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

 
Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously

    If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
    Why is this product inappropriate?
    Comments (optional)