John Ford - This Cider Still Tastes Funny!: Further Adventures of a Game Warden in Maine

I began my career as a game warden on September 20, 1970. In doing so, I followed in the footsteps of family members who also served for years in law enforcement. My grandfather Leland Ford was a Maine state trooper, my father, Velmore Ford was a part-time deputy for the York County Sheriffs Office, and my stepfather, Warden Vernon Walker, patrolled the Sanford-Springvale area for twenty-three years. And Mother, Ethelind Walker, spent hours upon hours helping rehabilitate wildlife for the Department of Fish and Game. As a result, as I mentioned in my first book, Suddenly, the Cider Didnt Taste So Good, working in law enforcement was a childhood dream of mine as I grew up in the Sanford, Maine, area.

When I finally became a game warden in 1970, it truly was a dream come true, and the following twenty years I spent as a game warden did nothing to change that feeling.

However, as my career wound down in the late 1980s, the times and the job were rapidly changing. There is no question everything was much different then it is today.

On my first official day of work, I was issued a used cruisera sedan from a warden who was terminally ill and ready to retire. I was also provided with several new uniforms, law books, a couple of badges, a brass compass, a used .38 caliber Smith and Wesson handgun, a gun belt, a sleeping bag, a flashlight, and a summons book. These were the items given to new recruits and were considered everything we would need to perform our official duties.

That first day I was greeted by Warden Supervisor Charles Allen and Inspector Lee Downs at the Burnham Wardens Camp (supervisor is the equivalent in rank to todays lieutenant, and inspector the equivalent in rank to todays sergeant).

The two men showed me how to complete required paperwork, gave me a tour of the district, and then left. If I made it through my probationary period, I would need to attend the next wardens school, which ran from February through April, at the University of Maine. I was mostly on my own, except when my partner, Warden Norman Gilbert from Hartland, was able to join me to show me the ropes and teach me the area.

And that is how things were done back then. It was kind of an on-the-job training process, much different than the highly structured training required today.

But thats not all that has changed. When I started, snowmobiling, for example, was just starting to increase in popularity as a winter activity. And back then, a machine capable of traveling more than 40 mph was considered a real screamera far cry from what we see today. Had anyone said back then that someday wed unpack a machine from its crate that was guaranteed to travel upward of 100 mph or more, Id have accused them of smoking some of that wacky-tobacky I sometimes found growing in the woods of Thorndike, Maine.

Unfortunately, such speeds are exactly what we see these days. I say unfortunately because its the unfortunate game warden who must respond to a scene where some daredevil has attempted to sail through the woods on a four-foot-wide trail, full of bumps and hidden obstacles, at speeds that even Evel Knievel would have considered too dangerous. Yup, todays warden may be blessed with the gruesome task of picking up body parts and notifying the next of kin that Junior wont be coming home for supper ever again.

In 1970, witnessing a bald eagle soaring overhead was a rarity. Mans own neglect and use of pesticides and other chemicals nearly caused the extinction of our national bird. Today, eagles once again flourish in our skies, thanks to scientific research, good protection, and the recognition that these pesticides did more harm than good.

In 1970, the thought of wild turkeys roaming our countryside was unheard of; turkey buzzards were native only to states far south of ours. Today, turkeys have become a nuisance of sorts. Right here in Waldo County, we introduced thirty-two birds on farmland in the town of Waldo in 1984. Now there are turkeys throughout all of central Maine and beyond as a result of this small flock of birds, and a few others. The turkey program was a huge successtoo much so, in the eyes of some.

The State of Maine was seriously debating whether or not we had coyotes roaming our woodlands in 1970. Biologists insisted these wild creatures were coy-dogs and not coyotes. In 1973, I had my first official encounter with one of these critters when a large male coyote was struck and killed by an automobile on a back road in south Unity. The mere sight of the critter made headlines in the local papers. Today, there isnt a single section of this state that hasnt been invaded by these unwanted predators.

In 1970, the idea of a legal moose hunt was considered crazy talk. As a matter of fact, anyone caught shooting a moose was considered to have committed the cardinal poaching sin according to Fish and Game statutes. To be found guilty of a moose murder was a major crime, punishable by severe penalties.

In the early years of my career, night-hunting, despite being illegal, was a way of life for many folks within my district. For example, several residents in the town of Burnham where Id taken up residency claimed that in order to be considered a bona fide resident of the town, a person must have been convicted of night-hunting at least once.