Who's asking: My dad and Claire
Just above exit 17 on Maine's 295, at the south end of Freeport, is a giant wooden Indian that seems unconnected to anything around it. Calling it a giant wooden native American would be pointless; this thing is a relic from the days when native Americans in the movies said "How," and Americans believed that all American Indians wore big feather headdresses.
You can see a picture of him here, although the comments on that site are not entirely correct. The Big Freeport Indian ("BFI" or "Bill," to those of us who know him personally) stands more than 50 feet tall, and belongs to a company called Winter People, which sells corporate-branded clothing and accessories.
The Winter People inherited the BFI from a clothing store called Levinsky's, which inherited him from the Casco Bay Trading Company. The Casco Bay Trading Company was a gift shop/general store that catered to tourists, and they put the BFI up in the 1960s as a way of getting people to stop and shop. People still stop to look at the Indian. I'm always glad to see him at the end of a long trip, because it means I'm only 35 miles from home.
My Dad and my daughter, Claire, are both visiting this week, and we're all driving up to Montreal today to deliver Claire back to school. Six hours in a car together will be an adventure. Watch the news for reports of international incidents along the Vermont-Quebec border.
Between the company and other work, I've read very little this week, although I'm working my way through the backlists of four authors whose panel I'll be moderating at Bouchercon: Linda Barnes, Robert Dugoni, Lise McClendon, and Christopher Reich. If you're at B'con and awake at 9:00 on Friday morning, check it out.