AmeriCorps Seniors

I am an ex-logger who fell into volunteering, and I’ve been doing it for sixteen years now as a Senior Companion. I love the older people I work with; that is my calling card.

I grew up in a small town and joined the Navy when I was eighteen. In 1972, I married my high school sweetheart, and we had two beautiful girls. Life changed in 1988 when my wife got sick; she passed away from ocular melanoma in 1992.

Around that same time, I blew out a disc in my neck and had surgery. I was a logger, but suddenly I was financially strapped and caring for a twelve-year-old and a daughter who was headed to college. I went in to sign up for fuel assistance. While I was there, they mentioned they could use volunteers.

I started by helping kids from out of state fix up trailers and painting homes for the elderly. It was a fortunate thing in a lot of ways—when you're down and out, helping someone else can pull you through.

Eventually, they trained me to sign people up for fuel assistance in towns like Strong, Phillips, Carthage, and Weld. That work really opened my eyes. I saw how proud the older people were and how bad they felt about needing help. It made me realize I didn't have it so bad.

I went back to logging for a while after my neck healed. A new health challenge in 2005 finally kicked me out of logging for good. I eventually saw an advertisement for Senior Companions to visit the elderly at home, and I knew it was right up my alley.

I cook for my clients – homemade spaghetti and meatballs, jams, jellies, and my blueberry cake. Every Spring and Fall, I take them on individual picnics. We’ll go up around Rangeley to look at the flowers or the wildlife. It’s a break for them, and honestly, I enjoy it just as much as they do!

Recently, I told a lady who wanted to pray for me that I don't need to be prayed for. When they put me in the ground, I’m going to have a smile on my face because I did the best I could to help the people I care about.

April 2026

I live on Verona Island with my son, Justin. My three grown children are all living nearby, too. I’m originally from New Jersey, but it eventually got too urban there for my taste. I first moved to Belfast, Maine, in 2010, and after a brief return to Jersey to be closer to my mother, I came back for good in 2020. I just love Maine!

I have a two-year college degree, and I spent much of my career working in libraries, which I really enjoyed. I also worked as a peer support person in a mental health center. You must be a very patient person for that kind of work, but I loved running groups and sharing the things I enjoy with others. One of my proudest highlights was building a community garden with a group in the city. Everyone was vital to the garden's success!

Volunteering is a way for me to share the blessings I’ve had and to give back. I have been through hard times myself, so I know what it’s like. I value the close relationships I build as a Senior Companion. Peer support must be a two-way street for a relationship to work, and I’m proud of the relationships I’ve built.

Many seniors struggle with loneliness and a lack of transportation, and I appreciate being someone they can talk to who will support them without judgment. My clients often tell me: ‘You can’t quit; you can’t stop doing this.’

I would describe myself as caring, easygoing, honest, and loyal. In my view, a good life starts with having enough resources to not live in poverty, but the real icing on the cake is having good relationships, being part of a community, and staying healthy and active.

When I am gone, I want to be remembered with kindness and love. I want to leave on my own terms without leaving things for others to clean up or finish. If I had to choose one word to describe my life, it would be 'grateful.' When people thank me for what I do, I always tell them I’m just glad I am still able to do it. I am truly grateful for the quality of life and the relationships I have today.

April 2026

I was born in Dublin, Ireland, almost 85 years ago.  I joined a convent at 17 and was eventually shipped to California, where I taught in schools in Southern California from 1964 until 1972. That was when I decided to “kick the habit!” I moved to San Francisco and continued teaching in parochial schools. In 1977, I met my husband, Jim, and we moved up into the Sierra foothills where he worked as a jeweler.

We moved to Maine in 1999 to semi-retire. Jim had fallen in love with the state years prior while working as a camp counselor in Rangeley. We drove across the country in March of 1999 without even having a house waiting for us. Unfortunately, shortly after we arrived, Jim was diagnosed with cancer. He lived for two and a half years in a place where he truly wanted to be, and he died right before 9/11.

When you lose your partner and your companion, that sense of purpose can feel lost. A friend told me about the Foster Grandparent program, and I’ve been volunteering at Talbot School in Portland for 24 years now. It gives me that sense of purpose back. I’m up at 4:30 every morning and at school by 6:45. I help the kids with breakfast, we read together, and I sit on the rug with them during morning meetings. I love that intergenerational connection; I’m still “Grammy Fran” to students who are now in their 30s.

I think volunteering is essential for older people to prevent isolation. It keeps me active—physically and mentally—getting up and down off the floor with the children. One little girl always says, “Grammy Fran, let me help you up,” and I always pretend to let her. It’s a connection she sees with an older person, and that is powerful.

I look at my life as a tapestry, with every experience woven into who I am today. I think of myself as living in abundance—not in a material way, but in the quality of my relationships. I don’t view being old as a negative thing; it’s a positive thing to have gotten this far. My legacy, I hope, will be that of a loving person who spread seeds of kindness for future generations.

April 2026

I grew up in Cambridge and Carlisle, Massachusetts, and went to high school in Concord. Every trip to school meant passing the Old North Bridge — that sense of history is a significant memory. I spent a year at the University of Miami, but I was a big fan of Jack Kerouac and his novel On the Road, so I spent a lot of time hitchhiking across the country to the West Coast and the Mexican border back when it was still safe to do so.

I eventually migrated to Maine and spent 47 years at Bath Iron Works as a sandblaster. It was not a glamorous job—it was dangerous and hard—but it led me to my life’s work with the union. I was a shop steward, a negotiator, and eventually a secretary of the Maine State Council of Machinists.

Volunteering is part of our American DNA. I’ve tried to embrace that ethos throughout my life, whether serving as the president of the local homeless shelter, working with Habitat for Humanity in its fledgling years, or serving on the Board of Governors for the United Way of America. From 2009 to 2022, I served on the Maine Commission on Community Service, including a term as Chair. We worked hard to create the Volunteer Maine Foundation to help secure private funding for service programs.

Lately, I’ve been reconnecting with my Portuguese heritage. Just before the pandemic, I finally pursued my dual citizenship. My wife, Betsy, and I love to travel and explore. When we go out to eat locally, we like to sit at the bar — not for drinks, but because it’s where you find the best social interaction. I have a curiosity about people and common connections.

I want to be remembered simply as a decent but flawed human being who sought to improve himself, his family, and his community. I don't need plaques or awards. I’ve donated blood regularly my entire life, not for recognition, but because it’s a quiet contribution to people I will never know or meet. To me, a rich and fulfilling life is one where you stay physically, spiritually, and socially engaged with the world around you.

April 2026

I grew up in Maine and had an abusive childhood. Even as a young girl, I knew that when I had children of my own, my life would revolve around protecting them and ensuring they knew they were loved. I eventually became a single parent of five children. My path into education started when my youngest three were in Head Start; I began as a volunteer parent, was hired as a teacher’s aide, and eventually earned my degree in Early Childhood Development to become a lead teacher.

There is nothing more rewarding than seeing the impact of that work years later. I was once in a store when a young woman approached me with her two children and said, “Because of you, my children had a better childhood than I had.” Another mother told me that because I “made learning so much fun, her daughter went on to college.” Those moments let me know I accomplished my goal.

During my career at what is now Opportunity Alliance, I worked closely with the Foster Grandparent program. Later, I worked with the director, Susan Levine, to fight for the grants needed to start a Senior Companion program in Portland. We were told ‘no’ by Washington at first, but Susan was determined. We proved we could run both programs successfully, and I eventually became a coordinator for the Senior Companions. Today, I volunteer 32 hours a week with eight different seniors.

I consider myself a “bouncing ball” — I’ve rolled through hard times and good times. I even owned a convenience store in Bolsters Mills for five years. Now, I live in a private, wooded setting in Windham where I can be surrounded by nature. I’ve sat in my gazebo and talked to deer until they followed me, and I’ve watched foxes and raccoons from my door. It’s the peace I need after my days with people.

My children want me to write a book about my life titled The Tarnished Angel. The idea is that we are all born pure angels, but life tarnishes us as we go. I want it to be inspirational for people who suffered abuse as children, to show them that they can make it. My philosophy is etched on my headstone: If you stop and think about it, we’re all on this earth for such a short period of time. Why can’t we be kind to each other?