Summer 1989: middle school hell over and preparing to enter my freshman year at a tiny rural Maine prep school (Hebron Academy; my mom taught there. . . not an actual “prep”). I had been living in Mechanic Falls for two years. I’m sure it’s nice now, but it was a rough place live out my awkwardest years. By the grace of God I started guitar lessons at Jack’s Music Loft at age 11, and sought shelter in music. Thankfully, I had summer camp to look forward. Since third grade, Pilgrim Lodge on Cobbosseecontee…
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