In the July issue, I was pleased to read about Kathy and Sheldon Morse and their new dining venture at Henry Allen’s Seafood. I have been a customer of the Morses since the summer of ’00, when I stumbled into their newly opened lobster shack on Morse’s Wharf at the end of Morse Shore Road. I was directed there by a stranger in the post office when I asked about a good place to eat.
I ultimately rented a cottage on Morse Shore Road but there was something extra about Morse’s lobster shack drawing me in. The food never flopped and the style was casual but unique — evinced by the primitive wooden fish painted by Kathy’s father and displayed around. The friendly waitstaff added to the experience, as did Sheldon’s laughter and bonhomie.
The Morses don’t like to draw attention to themselves. After the cataclysm of Sept. 11, 2001, they hosted a seafood boil to benefit the Red Cross. The cars filled with people wanting to give and dine created a traffic jam of generosity on the dirt road. When I told them I wanted to write a story about the event for the Boston newspaper I worked for, they asked for privacy. However, I didn’t tell them before I celebrated their blonde Lab Lacey as “the happiest dog in Harpswell” for this newspaper.
Life circumstances have changed. Lacey is gone. The Morses’ two children, Ashley and Josh, have produced many grandchildren. I’m married and my husband Ben has gone with me to the Morse-operated eateries through the years — from Cribstone Bridge to the Brunswick Drive-In (now Cameron’s), to Estes, Holbrook’s, and Allen’s Seafood. When I told Ben I was writing this letter, he declared, “The Morses are Harpswell!”
They are also Maine, memories and, yes, really delicious food.
Monica Collins, Boston, Massachusetts
