The man behind that gloriously happy yellow mess of feathers, Big Bird, died on Sunday, December 8, leaving behind a legacy not soon to be forgotten. Caroll Spinney brought Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch to television screens for almost 50 years and touched lives around the world. While Spinney was not from Maine, he had deep connections to the Pine Tree State, and in particular Eastport, where he had family roots and good friends.
     The mystery to the connection between the man and the island city was clarified by Spinney himself in a letter from the mid‑1970s that was summarized in a Quoddy Tides column quite a few years back. "Caroll Spinney's letter, which was rather a full one, despite the fact that he gets 'tons of mail,' is a friendly one in which he reveals that he, himself, was not born in Eastport, though his grandparents were natives (Mr. and Mrs. John Spinney)." His father, Chester, was born in St. David's, outside St. Stephen, and came to Eastport when very young, living there for 18 years, before running a grocery store in Moores Mills, St. Stephen, for a number of years. The reminiscence continues, "Big Bird visited Eastport and spent many summers with relatives until his tremendous workload curtailed the visits." However, Big Bird would mail cards "which showed his cleverness in this medium" with amusing drawings of the Caroll Spinney family, human and puppet. The column ends with the note that Big Bird was that very week appearing at the White House as the guest of First Lady Betty Ford.
     While Spinney was not expected for that particular Fourth of July celebration, he had been expected for the 1979 festivities. However, good friend, Eastport historian and Quoddy Tides columnist Jim Jollotta wrote in August of that year that at the last minute Big Bird was "summoned by Bob Hope to accompany him to Peking, China -- so Eastport's loss was China's gain." Spinney sent a postcard to Jollotta about the trip, writing, "I have never seen so many people in my life as here in Peking. Turns out, no one in China ever heard of Bob Hope. I asked him if he enjoyed going somewhere without being bothered by people recognizing him -- he said, 'I've been miserable for a week!'" Spinney went on to write that they were with various celebrities, including Crystal Gayle and Mikhail Baryshnikov. They were on their way to the see the Great Wall, and the following week Spinney was to perform in Shanghai with the only trained panda in the world. He wrote that it was a fantastic time, if hot and humid. "It's all worth it," he signed off.
     In 1983 Caroll Spinney sent a "cleverly illustrated letter" that Kathleen White, "Table Talk" columnist for The Quoddy Tides, decided to share with readers, and one part in particular stands out as an adventure large enough for the likes of Big Bird. He writes of driving on the longest beach in the world in New Zealand. "There is not road to the beach, just a stream seven miles long. The object is to drive down the stream without getting stuck in the 'slow quick‑sand!' Before entering the stream I tramped out a ways and it seemed solid with very little water running. I headed on in and before long it seemed like there was a lot more water and the wheel prints of four‑wheel drive vehicles that I was following disappeared and I was on my own." He continues, "Yet the lure of driving on that magnificent beach drew me on." He increased his speed "on the theory that we were traveling too fast to sink!" They stopped to look at the great dunes at 100 feet high and saw the turquoise Tasman Sea. "It was a sea to look at, not to step in, as it's a frightening thought to enter that forbidding, roaring surf." To reach the exit they had to drive an additional 98 kilometers of beach. "Off we went, hammers down, no speed limits. ... It was the most thrilling car‑ride of our lives." Big Bird hadn't had enough, for after a night at a rather tame motel they went back to the beach "just to have a little bit more."
     In the same year of 1983, Spinney wrote a littler to Inez Kierstead of Eastport in response to her letter asking if he would be willing to participate in the Fourth of July festivities. He writes, "Unfortunately, I don't do parades very well, because Big Bird is a large, heavy puppet, which I hold over my head with my right hand, therefore, after 10 minutes I am 'pooped' and have to get out." He adds that there is a "parade" version of Big Bird, but it's not a puppet, he notes, "and I can't stand that version," and it also give the wearer a "nifty headache."
     Adding with his trademark humor, Spinney writes, "Also, I don't do parades as myself because I'm not famous myself, and people expect more. I did one parade sitting in the back of an open convertible and I have never felt more exposed and foolish in my life!" "Hey, where's your feathers!" was one comment he remembered. But in true Big Bird fashion, Spinney softened his rejection with down‑to‑earth and common‑sense words, ending with friendly charm, "Warm regards to all my Eastport friends, and best wishes for a joyous Fourth!"