FtV – A Hermit Named Coffin in the Desert of Maine
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That's MyDonorConnection.com slash surrogate. Welcome, legendary listeners. Thanks for tuning in to From the Vault, a second look at some of our classic episodes. Look for a new episode every week. Now, can you go back and listen on your own at OurNewEnglandLegends.com? You bet. But you won't get the added bonus of an After the Legends segment featuring new commentary about that episode from your old pals Jeff and Ray. So let's open up the New England Legends Vault and revisit another legendary episode.

Welcome to the Vault, kids. Good to have you in the Vault. This week, we're up in the high deserts of Maine looking for a hermit named Coffin. First aired November 4th, 2021. Enjoy. Okay, so we're going to make a left right up here, and our destination is right at the end of this road. Okay. Okay.

Jeff, why are you dressed in all khaki? Is that a pith helmet? It is. I'm dressed like this because we're heading to the desert. In Freeport, Maine? Yeah, in Maine. We're heading to the desert in search of a hermit. ♪

Hello, I'm Jeff Belanger, and welcome to episode 220 of the New England Legends podcast. Give us about 10 minutes, we'll give you something strange to talk about today. And I'm Ray Ogier. Thanks for joining us on our mission to chronicle every legend in New England, one story at a time. We're a community of legend seekers who love sharing stories that make New England unique.

Whether it's our haunts and monsters, our strange history or roadside oddities, and those memorable people who have stuck out over time and reached legendary status. We love when you connect with us and share what we do with a friend or two. Now, before we hit the desert of Maine, we want to take just a minute to tell you about our sponsor, Nuwadi Herbals. Yep, it's November and it's turning colder. Did you notice how on these chilly days, even your bones and joints seem to ache? Oh.

We are getting older, right? That's true. But it's more than that. I know, I get it. Sometimes I need to get warmed up from the inside. Instead of hitting the drive-thru for some overpriced sugar and caffeine-filled concoction that isn't really good for me anyway, I've been making some afternoon buffalo bone tea from Nuwadi Herbals. Ooh, that's a good choice. Buffalo bone tea has alfalfa leaf, dandelion root, marshmallow root, plantain leaf, and other natural ingredients to help support our body's structure. And...

I'm reading the tea's label right here. No, it doesn't actually contain buffalo bones, and it won't give you buffalo breath. Well, that's good. So many Nuwadi Herbal's products have been a part of my daily life. Their teas and balms and lotions and their bath salts, they've all made a difference in the way I feel each day. Let Nuwadi Herbal's help support your healthy lifestyle. Check out the Nuwadi Herbal's website to see all their great products and use.

You legendary listeners, you get 20% off your order when you use the promo code LEGENDS20 at checkout. Don't forget to use it. Visit NuwadiHerbals.com. That's N-U-W-A-T-I, herbals with an S, dot com. All right, Jeff, so you said we're heading to a desert in Maine. Right. I didn't know that New England had any deserts. So it turns out there's one in Maine, and it's been a tourist attraction for almost a century.

Wow, you weren't kidding. It's a desert. Yeah. I mean, it's not a huge area. In fact, the sign tells me that it's just about 40 acres. Not exactly the Sahara. Right. But it's all sand surrounded by walls of pine trees. It almost looks like a big golf course, but instead of grass fairways, it's all sand. Today, the desert of Maine is a campground and a place you can pay to visit during the warmer months of the year.

But a century ago, this place got famous not just because of what it is, but for a strange hermit who lived nearby. A hermit by the name of Coffin. Oh, that's a great name. So to figure out how this got here, let's head back to 1797 and meet the Tuttle family. It's the spring of 1797, and William Tuttle has just bought 300 acres of land right here where we're standing. Tuttle gets to work. He builds a large barn.

He grows potatoes and lets his flock of sheep graze the pastures. Pretty soon, this place looks like a big successful farm. Things are going well for the Tuttle's. Years pass and William Tuttle passes his farm on to his kids who continue to grow potatoes in the same fields where their father grew them. They let their sheep graze in the same pastures.

But now there's even more sheep, and it's a lot of work to run a farm. But the family has it down now. But there is a problem. Okay, what's that? When you have a farm, you're supposed to turn the crops. What does that mean? So it means you can't grow the same exact crop in the same exact fields year after year because each plant pulls different nutrients from the soil.

So if you never change the crop, over time the soil is depleted and pests and weeds can move in and make your life difficult. Now eventually, you need to get rid of all the soil and add new dirt and start over. Okay, well that makes sense. So I take it the tuttles aren't rotating their crops. No, it's just potatoes year after year. By the 1860s, their soil is starting to sour. But there's another problem. What now? Those sheep.

They're allowed to overgraze in the pastures. Tell me what's wrong with that. It's not the biggest problem if you have plenty of land and you can move the sheep on to different pastures, which allows the eaten field to regrow. But the Tuttle's are letting the sheep eat just about everything. Eventually, it becomes a big problem. Hey, look over there. I can see Mr. Tuttle pointing to a strange spot in the field. Let's go check it out. Okay.

Hmm, look at that. There's this patch of sand. It's not very big, maybe the size of a dinner plate. And it looks like beach sand. That is strange, but no big deal. I mean, it's just one little patch of sand. Right, no big deal. Weeks go by and suddenly another patch of sand catches Mr. Tuttle's eye. And then another patch. And then another patch.

The more the sheep graze the fields, the more patches of sand show up. And pretty soon, those patches aren't the size of dinner plates anymore. They've grown into pond-sized fields of sand. And now there's a much bigger problem.

When winds and storms blow through, it's picking up the sand and laying it across the potato field, almost like a blanket of snow. And pretty soon, the Tuttle farm is a total loss. Inches of sand are covering all the fields and piling up against the barn and the house. The Tuttles are forced to abandon their farm.

and just move on. Locals start referring to this place as the Tuttle Sand Farm. Sand dunes build up on parts of the property. I mean, they engulf an apple tree on the farm and then get blown over a week later, revealing the apple tree again. And while this place is a total failure as a farm, locals, well, they kind of like to hang out here on the sand. They have picnics. And sometimes the younger folks throw parties into the night.

especially during Prohibition in the 1920s. Well, why not, right? It's abandoned. It's unique. And no one will see you drinking out here. Right. But one night, one of these parties rages late into the night, and suddenly, there's a fire. The old Tuttle House is engulfed in flames. Everything burns but the barn. The place is a mess. It's 1925 when a man named Henry Goldrip shows up. Where everyone else sees a mess, Henry sees an opportunity.

He buys the sand farm for $400 in back taxes. Some folks laugh at his folly. They tell him this mountain of sand isn't worth $40. They laugh and they laugh, but Henry has plans. Route 1 is only two miles away. If all those tourists heading up and down Maine's coast knew this place existed...

Maybe they'd pay to see it. Tourists need more than just sand to show up. So Henry sells ice cream and hot dogs and offers walking tours. It's Goldrip who brands this place the Desert of Maine. And we should point out that this, quote, desert does fall a little bit short of the standard definition. How so? Deserts are defined as arid land with sparse vegetation. Okay, we got that. And it needs to be desolate. Yep, Czechs still got that.

Technically, there's no size requirement on a desert, so we're still okay there, but the last requirement is less than 10 inches of rainfall per year. Now, Freeport averages about 50 inches per year. Got it. But these are technicalities. When I look around, I see a desert. Agreed. Pretty quickly, Henry Goldrip's $400 bet pays off. Tourists come by. They pay to see it. They buy ice cream. And they take tours.

Word spreads and the legend of this roadside attraction grows. Henry Goldrip's tours explain how the desert of Maine was created. It turns out during the Ice Age, more than 25,000 years ago, giant glaciers moved south across all this land. Those glaciers ground up the rocks and earth below into fine sand. When the glaciers retreated, the sand settled. Over time, moss and ferns grew up through the sand. Trees came in and other plants too.

Now, over the course of centuries, topsoil formed from rotted trees and leaves and other natural cycles of nature to the point where all the sand was hidden just below the surface. Then the Tuttle Farm moved in, allowing grazing sheep and unturned crops to undo all of this growth in a matter of decades.

Pretty soon, the desert of Maine was so popular that cars started lining up from Route 1 all the way along the two-mile stretch of road to the desert site. The traffic is a nightmare. Now, thankfully, not too many people live along this empty road leading up to the desert of Maine, but there is this one family also situated on the road. The Allen family, Leonard and Marion. Now, they too have a farm. It's the Allens who see all of this traffic and get an idea.

So they build a shack along the road and invite a local vaudeville musician named Charlie Coffin to set up shop in there. He sells his trinkets and paintings and charges people to look around inside. Now, I guess if tourists will line up to see a bunch of sand, maybe as they creep by this shack, they might pay a few pennies to get entertained.

Coffin hangs out a sign and encourages passersby to pay 15 cents to come see The Hermit of Maine. It's nothing like a hermit who advertises. And pretty soon, The Hermit is a hit. Charlie Coffin looks the part, too. He's got the beard, long hair, and looks just disheveled enough. So people stop and take a closer look. Hey, Big John, the glory, the glory. Hey, Big John, but we're gone.

Charlie Coffin plays his organ and sings songs like Casey Jones as visitors look around his shack and buy his paintings and trinkets. Coffin spends years living off the fat of the desert of Maine's fame. And that brings us back to today. Charlie Coffin died in 1941 at the age of 47. Though his legend lives on thanks to the countless photos taken of him in his life, as hermits go, he wasn't shy.

And he's not the first enterprising hermit we've covered on this podcast. No, he's not. Back in episode 99, we covered the story of English Jack, the hermit of the White Mountains of New Hampshire. He also charged people to look inside his shack and also sold trinkets and souvenirs. Which is counter to everything a hermit is supposed to be, right? Yeah. I mean, a hermit is supposed to be reclusive, to live out somewhere alone, away from people. And yet we're fascinated with hermits because we wonder if they've acquired some divine knowledge. So we seek them out.

The very clever and enterprising hermits understand their built-in appeal and advertise it. I mean, how often does one get to see a hermit? I guess every day of the week if you're heading to the desert of Maine and Freeport during the summer. Good point. The desert of Maine is still an area attraction. In the summer months, you can camp here and still take tours. But you might want to hurry if you'd like to see it. Why is that? Because it's shrinking. With no more sheep and farm, the trees and mosses are coming through faster.

Give this place a few more centuries, and it could be a forest once again. You never know when a piece of land will turn into something more than a local oddity, and when an enterprising sort of person will show up on the scene and become a local legend.

You can see historic pictures of Charlie Coffin in the desert of Maine on our website. Just click on episode 220. While you're on our website, you can see everything else that we do. There's a link to buy the 2022 Haunted New England Wall calendar, a link to download our free smartphone app developed by Forest City Marketing, links to the New England Legends television series, and more.

and of course, a link to our Patreon page. Our Patreon patrons are the backbone of everything we do. For just three bucks per month, they get early access to new episodes, plus bonus episodes and content that no one else gets to hear. If you can help support us, head over to patreon.com slash newenglandlegends to sign up. We'd like to thank everyone for the great feedback on our Halloween special last week. Thank you.

Maybe we'll do more episodes like that in the future. And of course, thank you to our sponsor, Nuwadi Herbals, and our theme music is by John Judd. Hi, I'm Amelia DeVere from Georgetown, Massachusetts. And next time, remember, the bizarre is closer than you think. We'll break it down right after a word from our sponsor.

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A lot of hermits lately. Didn't we do a hermit last week? We have done a lot of hermits lately. And like some of those other hermits, Coffin was a professional hermit. Yes. Yeah. Two types, right? The kind that want to be left alone. Truly left alone. Almost like a Bigfoot. You really rarely see them. And then there's the kind that write books. Right. And sell you stuff and charge you to come see them. Yeah. Have a gift shop and all that. Play songs for money. And yeah. So this one was one of those professional hermits.

I love the old pictures. And you should go to our website. And if you look up Podcast 220, that's the number. By the way, the new website looks amazing. Yes. Thank you, Lauren Middleton. Thank you, Lauren. She did an amazing job. There's still a few touch-ups we've got to make, but we're getting there. It pops, though, when you go on. The other one was great, too, but this one is just new and...

New and shiny. The other one was having problems and we're almost there, almost there. So yeah, check it out. But yes, if you look up episode 220, we have a bunch of photos from the old, it's heyday. And you can see the people having picnics on the desert and stuff. And you can see pictures of

Mr. Coffin, he looks exactly like Hagrid from Harry Potter. Not quite as big, but if you look at the face and the beard, you're like, that's Hagrid. Now, wouldn't that be any hermit if somebody just said, did you see the hermit? You wouldn't have to ask them to describe it. You already have a picture in your head, don't you? I guess if you saw a person who's clean-shaven and said, I'm a hermit, you'd be like, no, you're not.

Not a real one. Not a chance. You're not a professional hermit, sir. Where's your whiskers? Where's your big bushy beard that hasn't been touched in years? Right. Yeah, that's part of the look, I think, that you're selling, for sure. Yeah, some it's natural, but for others, I'm sure it's a decision they made for PR purposes. Oh, I'm a professional hermit. I need the beard. You got to be the character. It's so tempting to do it.

To be the professional hermit. I'm like, could I pull that off? Yeah. I mean, we talk about that every time we talk about hermits. Could you do it? Could you live in a cave? Could you live outside of society? Could I commute? Like, ooh, 8 a.m., time to get to the cave.

Well, we may do, oh yeah, commute from home to the cave. Yeah, from my nice air-conditioned and heated home. Yeah. Put in some time. Yeah. Yeah, during the busy season, you'd be out at the cave a lot, I'm sure. Yeah. Which is the busy season, probably this summer. Sure. When vacationers are up there. Yeah, February 3rd, when it's eight below zero.

Probably not a lot of foot traffic. No, no, no. You could close shop at that point. Yeah. Just say back in the spring. Which is what English Jack did in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. He was the hermit of the White Mountains, but only from like spring through summer and early fall. In the winter, he was staying with a family. Yeah. Dressing nice for dinner. Smart guy. Sleeping in a cozy bed. Yeah. The whole thing. So that was his summer job. Still mooching off of somebody. It wasn't his house. Yeah, thankfully. Yeah, right. Yeah, still doing something, but.

But I love that idea that... But to survive as a professional hermit, you would need quite a personality. Oh, personality. Lots of training, I would imagine. Pizazz. You'd need something, right? You'd need something that people genuinely like you. You need a shtick. You do. But also, think about it. To pull that off. They'd have to like you, trust you, like being around you, feel you're not dangerous to themselves or their children or anything. Yeah.

That's a thing. Not everybody can pull that off. Yeah, that comes down to personality. Because if you just see an individual like that walking around the park or the desert, and then you walk the other way, you'd stare clear of that person. But if they're boisterous and happy and have something to say and give, then you're more likely to welcome them into your circle. Think about there's certain street people you might encounter in cities and stuff from...

and not even just in cities anywhere, where you could just tell like something's off. It could be drugs, it could be alcohol, it could be some disorder, but your senses tell you like, I think I'm going to give this person a wide berth because I feel like there could be a danger here.

And then Chris Rock said, you know, if you see a homeless person with a funny sign, it means he hasn't been homeless that long. Right? Yeah. So there's that. So, you know, there's every balance in between. But there's those people, though, that you end up trusting. Every town has one of those. Yeah. Oh, that's just Joe. Don't worry about Joe. He's a little kooky. We had Linda growing up. I'm not going to say her last name, but we all knew it. Yeah. She was, you know...

And Sandy Hook, anyone from Sandy Hook who's of a certain age already knows the last name, already saying it right out loud right now. But Linda was always around downtown Sandy Hook, around the bar area. She'd be asking for money or whatever. People would buy her sandwiches at the deli right down there. And she was just... She was a personality. She had a home, but you knew her. You're like, oh, that's Linda. Yeah. The police never bothered her. You know what I mean? Yeah, yeah. Even though she was there every single day...

But I've been pretty... Yeah, she had a place to sleep at night. We had my uncle, actually. Oh, good. Family. Yeah. He got into a car accident as a teenager, so he was never quite the same after that. Yeah. He lived on his own, but he would stand on the street and just randomly talk to people and say weird things. Yeah. But it was just Carl. That's just Carl. Did he get money for that? No, no, no, no. That was just a...

I don't know how he got his money. He didn't work. But no, he wasn't paid to do that. Someone hands him cash. He's like, no, no, no, no. I'm just crazy. I'm not looking for a handout. I'm literally crazy. I'm just here nuts. Yeah. I won't take $20. That's how crazy I am. That's yeah. I would rather just do my thing and keep it sweet. Yeah. Sweet man. But yeah, that was his shtick. Wow. He likes being around people, like talking to people. What was that like for you? Oh,

I remember distinctly running into him. It was actually the town over where he lived. But I remember walking around in high school downtown with a friend and approaching him. And my friend was like, what the hell was that? Well, that was my uncle. That's my uncle. Sorry, but I had to go say hi to him. And he never made sense when he talked. That was the thing. He spoke almost...

Give us an example. Can you fake one? Oh, I don't know. Like the... Hello, Raymond. The blue skies are swimming in jelly beans today. And it's a beautiful one. Something like that. I love that. It's very poetic now that I look back. Yeah. When I was a kid, it was just... He was crazy. But looking back, it was like, well, maybe he had things going on in his head that were beyond us. Yeah. And that was his best...

way to get like that was his best attempt at getting it out. Yeah. Or in his head, he was saying something perfectly normal and that's what came out. The words just got jumbled. I don't know. Like when you talk to someone really, really drunk and they start saying stuff and you're like, you don't make any sense. Do you ever get to a point? I don't get drunk often, but do you ever get to a point where you actually know you're slurring and you just, you should stop talking? Yeah.

Yeah. Because you're talking to somebody that you're, you don't want to know that you're, you're drunk. Yeah. I can tell. Yeah. Um, and it's usually, well, I mean, if we're all in it together, like if there's three or four of us hanging out and like, we've started at the same time and we're at about the same level. Yeah. It,

we're all, our brainwaves have all slowed that we all sound perfectly fine. That's true, yeah. We're quoting Shakespeare and stuff and it makes total sense. Yeah, so don't talk to sober people when you're drunk. But then someone new walks in who just got there and you're like, oh, you're too, and you've been the person that walked in, right? Where you're like, I'm so far behind, there's no way I can catch up. Oh, yeah. That's a challenge. I'm just going to have a seltzer. You know? I'll just have water tonight because I'm not going to catch up to you guys. It would take

too much and it would hurt. And I don't even like that. It used to be fun. Like, Oh, I can't even talk. But now it's just like, Oh, I just wanted this to go away. Yeah. Not fun at all. What did I do? Yeah. Not fun at all. But the thing about coffin here at the desert of Maine, as we go back, as we go back, right. We'll circle back. Uh,

never any talk of drugs or alcohol. Just that was who he was. That's unique, right? I would think. Well, maybe not with a hermit. Not back then. A bum, yes. Because if they were drunk or on drugs, you wouldn't feel safe around them. Right. And so people did. And that was part of it too. The hermits we've covered, none of them

have ever had any talk of drugs or alcohol. They have to keep up appearances. They can't be slurring their words or... Nope. They gotta be sharp. And people have to trust you. Yes. And, you know, you don't trust someone who's intoxicated on the street at 11 a.m. No. Which is why I stay inside. Yeah.

Touche. Yeah, like I'll be here because if I was out on the street, people would be like, dude, you got a problem. Right, right. In my house, you don't know if I have a problem. Behind closed doors. It's a wonderful phrase. Yeah, I don't know who would pay to see that, but the hermit of the desert of Maine sure made a scene and the photo survived.

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