John
Back in my earlier years of photography I got to be a guest at many wedding events. The Lawnmeer Inn was a very popular setting and it was, for me, at that time, a regular and enjoyable venue. The Reed family, and I mean the entire family, managed, staffed and maintained the Inn, along with much local support. It was a good gig on weekends throughout the season. A devoted group of regular part timers helped make the ship stay on schedule.
In the early days of my association with the Inn, I do recall that son John was never far from the heated fragrance of keenly prepped finger foods and more substantial prime rib often served during receptions. From my vantage, the Reed machine was well oiled and efficient, as it must be to serve large groups of guests almost simultaneously.
John started washing dishes at Lawnmeer as a young person not tall enough to manage the pots and pans without standing on a milk crate. I did not know him then which must have been close to the time when the Reed family acquired the Inn. But during my wedding times there, John pretty much was in charge of the food division, during the week and for weekend functions. It had to be an exhausting job as anyone in the hospitality world would admit. A solid week of guests with a big crunch of new folks on the weekend. There may not be enough B12 in the vitamin jar! I can still vividly see Mrs. Reed (Lorraine) scurrying about an event checking on things, being cordial and wasting no time. Other members of the family managed their assignments efficiently as Col. Reed (dad) hovered nearby.
John has cooked in many places. He started at Lawnmeer at age 11 and progressed to doing more, training with Cliff Huskins. Then, for 10 years he was in charge. Eventually he started working at Sugarloaf in winters and Boothbay in summers. After Lawnmeer closed John worked at Fisherman's Wharf for 18 years. At Sugarloaf he worked at Gepettos, Sugarloaf Inn, Truffel Hound, Base Lodge, Double Diamond, and Bullwinkles at Night. I bumped into him at “Rising Tide” in Damariscotta recently completely by accident. He likes it there with less pressure and more spare time.
I have even seen him walking with his wife Nora and two big white dogs at Spruce Point, with no sense of urgent food delivery that I could detect. But, truth be known, I'd bet a nice porridge was brewing on the stove back at the house. I suspect cooking will always be part of his life.
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United States