On a bench outside of Dyer Library on Valentine’s Day, author Jim Harris waited patiently to be interviewed about his recent collection of memoirs.
“The fresh air feels nice” he smiled, looking up only briefly before averting his gaze downward at his messenger bag.
He unzipped it slowly, peeling back the cover to reveal an array of freshly printed books nestled together in conformity.
With two fingers, he reached for one, showing off its tan exterior and pointing to the red farmhouse.
“I called it, Tales from the Hayloft,” he said with a pleased tone as he pointed to the cover. He ran his working hands across its rigid spine, fanning through the pages at high speed.
“I’m 82 years old and I’ve had a good life,” he said abruptly, “I certainly don’t have all the answers, but I do have memories worth sharing.”
Jim always knew he had a story to tell, but it wasn’t until his wife brought him to her weekly writers’ group that he began documenting his experiences. Each class, the coach encouraged him to write, and after writing almost 100 stories, he decided it might be bookworthy.
He handed the short stories over to his daughter, Carolyn, who worked her editing magic and helped guide him through the publication process. With a master’s degree in creative writing, Jim said Carolyn was a joy to work with and appreciated her support immensely.
“If this book is any good, I owe a lot of that to her,” he smiled proudly.
Reflections of a Childhood in Rural Maine
It’s in Jim’s recent collection of memoir stories that we learn he was born in Maine and grew up on Harris Farm in Dayton. In vivid detail, he recounts memories of a childhood in his rural hometown and tells stories of flying bulls, tractor accidents, puppy love, false reverends, stranded airplanes and brushes with fate.
Jim’s father, John Harris, originally bought the 100-acre dairy farm in 1944. John milked cows, added land and began to grow sweet corn to wholesale to local stores. Jim’s brother Bill bought the farm in 1977. Two generations later, the business has stayed in the family for almost 80 years.
“I was never really interested in doing farmwork for a living,” he said. “I’ve always gravitated more toward mechanical and restoration work, for reasons I’m not entirely certain of.
Sometimes it feels like we don’t choose what we like, he said, but rather the things we like choose us.
Jim graduated college in 1962 with a degree in automotive technology from Southern Maine Vocational Technical Institute. He worked as a mechanic at a gas station, then as a diesel mechanic, and soon after was drafted into the military where he worked as a food inspector.
After his service ended, he moved to Maine with his wife, Nancy. He worked as an independent claims adjuster for over 40 years and has been in the repair business for the last 25. He specializes in restoring antique and collectible boat engines. Today, he still enjoys spending much of his time in his engine repair shop, The Engine Room.
“I don’t know how to describe it,” he smiled, stretching out his arms and folding them neatly, as if holding a newborn, “but waking up an engine that hasn’t been run for 25 years, well…” he laughed, breaking the cradle formation and throwing his hands up toward the sky. Collapsing his hands into his lap, he shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not like having a baby — I’ve done that a couple of times — but it’s still a fantastic feeling.”
Lessons Learned
When Jim was in the service, he took flying lessons. When he and his wife moved back to Maine, he received his private license and bought an airplane. He owned that plane for a couple of years before his daughter Carolyn was born.
“Then,” he smiled, “we sold that airplane to buy a washer and dryer.”
You have to do what is necessary at the moment, Jim elaborated, saying that the decision to switch his plane for home items is a prime example of positive sacrifice. It would have been really nice to keep the airplane and keep on flying, he admitted, but it wasn’t what he felt he should do.
At the age of 70, Jim learned to ride a motorcycle and eventually bought one. For 10 years, he enjoyed venturing out to experience the world on two wheels. Last year, Jim said he caught himself making little mistakes, and decided it was time to sell the motorcycle and stop riding.
“I think maybe some people tend to get so involved with something they can’t give it up,” he sighed, looking off into the distance. “Now I’m thinking about retiring, and that scares me. But I try to remember how lucky I am to have had those experiences at all.”
Through the years, Jim said he’s learned a lot of lessons: Do more looking ahead than you do looking back; look at your experiences as part of life’s grand adventure; embrace who you were as well as who you will become.
“I don’t think I always looked at things like that though,” he laughed. “If you’re always looking back, you can’t see what’s ahead. Life is going to change you, so be open to what comes up while you’re moving forward.”
As the interview came to a close, Jim nodded with a half side smile and placed his book back in the bag. He hoisted himself up from the bench, tossed the messenger bag on his shoulder, and made one final statement for this piece.
“I know I said I don’t have all the answers,” he said. “But I do know one piece of advice to be true that a lot of people need to hear: Find your passion. Follow that passion. Money will follow too. And if you’re stuck in an office and you’d rather be out digging in the dirt, then find a way to get to the dirt.”
