Dr. Edward “Sandy” Ives, Karan Sheldon, and David Weiss at the Dr. Moses Mason House, Bethel Historical Society, Maine, in October 1985.

By Karan Sheldon
When Sandy and Bobbi Ives lived in Bucksport, up the River Road, they came often to weekend movies at the Alamo Theatre. It was delightful to see them for many reasons. How can one not get pleasure from seeing a loving couple, together almost sixty years? We felt buoyed by their engagement in the community cinema enterprise, their cheerful greetings and warm hugs. They also represented the spark that brought Northeast Historic Film into being.
    Sandy Ives founded the Northeast Archives of Folklore and Oral History, now the Maine Folklife Center, at the University of Maine. He was one of the scholars who traveled with us to present From Stump to Ship: A 1930 Logging Film with memorable events in Bethel and the premiere at the University of Maine. We then collaborated on two video productions (see sidebar). His office was in the basement of Stevens Hall. Sandy’s desk was in the last of three small underground spaces when we started visiting there in 1985. He radiated generosity, great ideas, and values that made sense.

Sandy and the Woodsmen Sandy Ives shared his friendships with woodsmen in Washington County, Maine, and we had the great pleasure of videotaping conversations Sandy had with them in the production of An Oral Historian’s Work and following up with more in the interviews for Woodsmen and River Drivers. “We went to see Adin McKeown, 82 years old, up past Wesley. He had a giant woodpile out front–he’d cut and split himself. Inside, his kitchen had the slantingest floor I’ve ever seen. The room itself was good sized, though, so we could fit the tripod and two lights in easily. He was quite comfortable in front of the camera: no problem. It was amazing to me. Didn’t mind doing things over, very obliging and patient. Same with Newell Beam yesterday, who lived in Cutler; lived there since 1923 in the same house, before that he’d lived the other side of the Grange Hall.”                 –Karan notes, May 1986

    Many of the things we learned from Sandy helped form Northeast Historic Film because he noticed and cared about elements of regional culture that we weren’t hearing about from others. He lent confidence and permission to enjoy our work.
    Patrick Phillips was the Archives manager; he remembers, “Working in a space that had prominently displayed the word “Serendipity” on the wall, a long black wooden sign with white lettering, reminded me to not get too attached to what you think you might discover, to always leave room to be surprised. Sandy embodied the joy of discovery of the smallest things of life. It’s left a permanent mark on the way I go about my work.” Phillips is presently Superintendent of Schools in Bridgton, Maine. He adds that Sandy was a delightful combination of curmudgeonly and extremely kind-hearted and funny.
    When we toured as itinerant presenters we heard from those whose lives Sandy had touched. Allene and Joel White attended a Blue Hill, Maine, screening (Katharine and E.B. White’s daughter-in-law and son). Joel said he had been a camper when Sandy was a camp counselor. “I taught Joe how to tie flies for catching pickerel,” Sandy recalled. We think it might have been at Flying Moose Lodge, Bucksport, in 1942.
    This summer we heard from Pauleena McDougall at the Maine Folklife Center that Sandy was nearing the end of his life. When we stopped for flowers to bring to the Iveses, master gardener Mary Blackstone, gathering a purple, green and gold arrangement in her back yard, said she had been a student of Sandy’s and was honored to send a bouquet. Blackstone, when not gardening in Maine, is a Professor of Theatre at the University of Regina. Serendipity and love are mighty things.
    Sandy taught us to sit quietly in a conversation long after it was comfortable – to see what might emerge. He taught that the specifics of everyday life are important, politically and culturally.

     “My interest in portraying individual lives has been sustained not only by my faith in their intrinsic value but also by my confidence that generalities like “culture” and “tradition” will shine forth most significantly from the particulars in which they are immanent.”