The large scrapbook in the possession of Charles D. Heseltine used photos, newspaper
clippings, original ephemera from the Portland-Lewiston Interurban (PLI), including poetry,
personal cards, notes, and notations from employees and their families. My understanding is
that Heseltine passed the scrapbook on to O. R. Cummings, who, in turn, passed it on to the
New England Electric Railway Historical Society's (NEERHS) Library.
This
Narcissus blog post features one of this year's highlights at this summer's
2017 Teddy Roosevelt Days event at
Seashore Trolley Museum. A presentation on W. S. Libbey's 1908 Stanley Steamer Model K 30-hp Semi-Racer.
W. S. Libbey was a successful businessman who designed and built the Portland-Lewiston Interurban (PLI). The Narcissus operated on the PLI from 1914 until the summer of
1933, when operations ceased.
Construction of the PLI was from 1910 til 1914. In 1908, W. S. Libbey had a Stanley Steamer automobile built for him to his specifications. Mr. Libbey would drive his Stanley on inspection trips as the PLI was being constructed. This rare, original Stanley Steamer K-30 HP Semi-Racer is on display at the
Seal Cove Auto Museum on Mount Desert Island (ME). Seal Cove Auto Museum Curator, Roberto Rodriguez, will conduct an engaging presentation on the very rare Libbey Stanley Steamer. Mr. Rodriguez's presentation on Friday, July 21st, will be one of the activities for the opening of the 2017 Teddy Roosevelt Days weekend event at the
Seashore Trolley Museum. Advance ticket sales for this limited-seating opening will be available online in the spring. Mark your calendars now and plan to attend.
The July 21, 22, and 23, 2017, weekend event will
have activities that appeal to all ages.
Proceeds from the weekend benefit the
Narcissus project. Theodore Roosevelt was
a passenger on the Narcissus on
August 18, 1914.
Poster design by Patricia Pierce Erikson
Here are a couple of newspaper stories featuring W. S. Libbey and his K 30-HP Semi-Racer Stanley Steamer. I feel I learned a lot about W. S. Libbey's personality by reading through these stories; his zest for life, his sense of humor, and the public's appeal to the man.
The Lewiston Evening Journal dated November 20, 1929, had this story about W. S. Libbey and his K 30 Semi-Racer:
In a personal letter expressing pleasure at the editorial of the Journal regarding the old Stanley Steamer and its race with the "narrow gauge" from Strong to Kingfield, Mrs. Gertrude Libbey Anthony says that her father's old Stanley Steamer of 1914, is kept intact at the old farm up in Wayne (ME) as a memento of the days when he used to go "hell-bent" thru Gray Corner toward the end of the line, while they were building the Interurban.
And this reminds us. Every now and then, Mr. W. S. Libbey, to whom this old Stanley belonged, used to come around and ask us to ride to some places. Mr. Libbey was in the old Journal office when we went there to work in 1883, for he was telegraph manager for the Western Union and dreaming all the time of being a manufacturer and builder. Remarkable personality - the most resolute man we ever knew, at the same time the gentlest and the most unyielding as was his mood.
He took us out many times in that Stanley Steamer. It had been built to order - a replica, as to the engine of the car that had broken the world's record on the beach at Ormond, Florida. It was geared three to one - if that is correct - or so that when she "turned over one, she went a mile" as Clarence Rand used to speak of her. A mile a minute was nothing for her when she was "behaving" - and in those days, a mile a minute was going some.
_________
The first time he ever gave us a ride in that car, we went to Hebron (ME). Mr. Libbey had what might be called a pastoral day. He drove along at ten to fifteen miles an hour along unfrequented country roads, through sand and wheel ruts, past quiet farms through very door yards, and we had a lot of fun. His mind, so active and often so belligerent, was at peace. He seemed to delight in hearing my exclamation of joy at these woodsy roads and these autumn hills robed in crimson. We did go up the hill at Hebron rather fast. In fact, it appeared that he was intending a dramatic climax; for "W.S." was a speed-demon, fearless, a practical joker in a way. We went up Hebron hill a mile-a-minute, and he yelled in glee as "she" did it. The result was a sort of pastoral, as near as I could write one, about the ride. Mr. Libbey was a great sentimentalist also, liking such things as nature when he gave it a look.
Lulled into security by this quiet ride, a second invitation was accepted. Mr. Libbey was in a different mood. We were going to Falmouth (ME) to see operations at a place where the road looks down from an eminence into the broad valley and where Mr. Libbey said he was going to build a cottage of his own someday.
On the way down, he forgot everything but getting there, and the Stanley began to turn over, with her long strokes and equally long strides. She began hitting on nothing at all except atmosphere and an occasional nubble. He was doing what he called "giving me a ride". I called it, giving me a fright.
Ashamed to call it off, disliking to show a white feather, I was terrified, for the Stanley Steamer was an open car, small light body, all cut-offs wide open; steam roaring from the exhaust and good at this moment for 80 miles an hour.
Up the road, coming towards us was another car. Toiling in the wheel ruts, which were a feature of all automobiling in those days. The driver of the other car seemed either unconscious of his duty to turn out and give what Mr. Libbey called half-of-the-road, or else he was unwilling.
If you had known Scott Libbey at all, you would have known that he would never be crowded. He wanted half of the road. Maybe a trifle more, especially if anyone else wanted the same. So we drove madly together, neither budging. Never was I so terrified in my life. The intervening space lessened with tremendous speed. Mr. Libbey never budged. The other fellow looked up and saw us coming and never budged. I saw nothing but death ahead. Mr. Libbey held his place, and suddenly the other fellow swerved a trifle and those two cars passed with not over six inches leeway, our car going forty-five - a terrific speed for those days.
As we passed, Mr. Libbey threw back his head and roared in glee.
"Hah," shouted he, "D'jer see me make him turn out!"
Yes, I had seen him make him turn out, and I had seen the narrow squeak by which, each giving a little, probably the collision had been averted. I often wished I could have known the other chap and had him and Mr. Libbey meet. I'll bet they were a good deal alike. "D'jer see me make him turn out." Selecting his own rights and sticking to them was probably the riling spirit of both those men. Certainly, it was Mr. Libbey's. He never bothered other people, but when he had a right-of-way, believe me, it was HIS. He cared for nothing on earth as a pleasure of a real lasting sort, except fighting obstacles. When he was building a dam, he was happy. When he had a river to buck, a hill to remove, a mountain to level, he was happy. When it was done, he was restless. He liked the Stanley car because it was a "holy terror." It gave him something to subdue - something in Nature, inanimate.
________
So far as we recall, only one or two of that type of "Stanley" cars were ever made. I believe that as she left the Lewiston garage or Rand and Harvey's, they used to say, in the enthusiasm of those days, that she made three turns, and then she was in Portland. "She " was supposed to have an abnormally long wheelbase. We may suppose it was as much as 96 inches.
Mr. Libbey once bought a National car - the biggest car we had ever seen here, and one wonders if it was as big as it then seemed. It was, of course, high, and its tonneau was a roving elevated architecture.
People liked them big. It indicated, as Jack Ruggles said when he bought his boots were three sizes too big, "that you were getting more for your money."
........
A.G.S.
The caption reads: The old gag "That tire's only flat, on the bottom." won't
work in connection with the old Stanley Steamer owned by W. Scott Libbey
Sr. These wheels are flat all around the rim, but, boy, could they roll
just the same. On exhibition at the Auto Show at the Armory, Friday and
Saturday, the old dust-raiser holds interest for Roland Levesque, the driver,
and Reginald Levesque, the skipper, Raymond Ouellette, in the back, looks like
a stowaway that doesn't believe the thing's gonna go (forward) unless somebody pushes.
The Lewiston Evening Journal story of October 17, 1939, relives tales of W. S. Libbey and his Stanley:
Scott Libbey's Old Stanley Steamer is to be shown at the Armory
At the Automobile Show in the Armory, Friday and Saturday, an interesting automobile is going to be exhibited; one that will make many Lewiston and Auburn residents do some thinking and will cause some of them to remember exciting, hair-raising, breath-taking, adventurous rides. There will be others in this section of Maine who wish, if they could, see the "old boat," would have the same sensation, from in its day, 25 years ago. It was widely known, and its owner was widely respected. It is W. Scott Libbey Sr.'s old Stanley Steamer.
It was a great car for those days, just as its owner was one of the great men of his time.
No one will ever know how fast it was in those days, but anytime that Scott was in a hurry, it didn't in the least disturb him to yank the throttle open to the point where she was doing 70, which was traveling, on the roads of those years.
Usually, there was something that mattered with the speedometer so that it didn't register. Mr. Libbey never admitted that such was the fact. He would always explain that something had "happened" to it and he'd not had the time to fix it. In the minds of those who knew him, it was accepted that whatever had "happened" did so through the well-directed hand of W. Scott Libbey, Sr.
The old machine, which was of the runabout type, painted yellow, has been stored at the Libbey summer place in Wayne since his death, 1914. It had been there for some time before that, as the year or two before, he purchased a more up-to-date gas-motored touring car. Incidentally, if memory serves correctly, this was the first car equipped with electric lights to be owned in these cities. It wasn't as fast as the old runabout, but it had more room.
Favorite Pastime
One of Mr. Libbey's pastimes was giving his friends rides. It might well be described as his favorite outdoor sport.
He would invite them to go for a ride, or if they said they had to go someplace, would offer to take them. Once they were in the seat, he'd head for the open road, and then away they'd go. He'd give the engine all it would take, and that meant speed, for those old steamers would travel.
Road conditions bothered him not in the least. He had an iron nerve and feared nothing. Above all else, he had unbounded confidence in W. Scott Libbey. he knew that he could drive, knew the roads, knew the car, and that was enough for him.
His passengers didn't always have that same confidence. They would all have been willing to take his judgment in a business deal and would have risked their last dollar on his financial judgment, but their necks were different. When he had landed them at their destination and, as they got out, said in his quiet voice:
"I'll give you a ride again,"
They invariably answered:
"I'm _____ if you will!"
Ride To Be Remembered
This writer had many of those rides, not all because he loved them, but in the line of duty. In his day, W. Scott Libbey, Sr., produced many good stories, and it frequently became necessary for the writer to take trips with him. W. S. knew he was frightened and was always seeing if he could force an admission to it. The wildest was on a trip from Portland.
We had been to Portland on a trip for progress in the construction of progress on the Portland Interurban electric road, which he and his partner Harry M. Dingley were building. It had been an all-day trip, visiting practically every section of the line, ending with a very late supper at one of the construction camps.
In those days, Portland Road was a much different story from what it is today. It was sandy, rocky, and rough. Most of today's automobile drivers would refuse to drive over it. If they did, they'd refuse to try and do more than 15 miles an hour, if they'd try. Libbey usually idled along at 30.
It was a clear, cool, bright, moon-lit night in late September. The hour was late when the camp was left, so it was around 1 a.m. when the long grade in Cumberland, on the Auburn side of the Gray Road woods, was reached. Mr. Libbey had been coming along at a speed that was more than sufficient for the writer, but when he struck his town grade, he gave her the gun.
How that car traveled!
The writer's cap blew off, and it was two miles further on before he was able to speak. By that time, it wasn't worthwhile to go back and try and find it, so nothing was said. At last, he spoke:
"How'd (you) like it?"
"Can't you go faster?"
The writer's teeth were chattering when he said it.
"You're a liar!"
It was a gleeful shout by Mr. Libbey.
The automobile show will be open at 1 p.m., Friday. All available space has been taken by local automobile dealers, but there will be room for such extra attractions as a gas model airplane demonstration.
We continue the
restoration work on the 1912
Narcissus, the only surviving high-speed, luxury interurban coach of the Portland-Lewiston Interurban.
Being more than a century old, the stately, "Elegant Ride,"
Narcissus, is a gem. This shimmering precious stone of Maine transportation history is brilliantly resplendent as it emanates so many elements of history, including
time, places, people, and events, that it was coupled to, that when just a smattering of its seemingly innumerable stories are shared, the contents first captivates, fascinates, then generates interest to learn more 🙋. The majestic
Narcissus is listed in the
National Register of Historic Places.
Please consider joining the epic journey to complete the Narcissus Project by making a donation today!
The restoration of this majestic icon of Maine's electric railway history is but one in a series of captivating stories containing an abundance of incredible coalition of narratives.
Click Here: History-Related Posts - Narcissus and Portland-Lewiston Interurban
The Narcissus is featured in the national Gold Award-winning novel, Teddy Roosevelt, Millie, and the Elegant Ride. The "Elegant Ride" is the Narcissus. Theodore Roosevelt was a passenger on the Narcissus on August 18, 1914, between Lewiston and Portland, Maine, while campaigning for the Progressive Party candidates.
Click Here: Bookstores and Businesses promoting the
Narcissus Project
Independent book publisher Phil Morse, holding
Gold Book Award Winner plaque for
Middle Reader category for The Eric
Hoffer Book Award. Congratulations to
award-winning Maine author,
Jean M. Flahive
