A death in Dover-Foxcroft

Of all the reassuring myths about small-town America, none is more willingly accepted than the idea that family and neighbors there know and care about each other, that in moments of need the folks next door always can be counted on. It is a belief accepted not only in distant cities, but in the very small towns where the facts say otherwise.

The details around the tragic life and death of Edith Hodsdon of Dover-Foxcroft have yet to be fully revealed. But what police know is heartbreaking. Miss Hodsdon, 78, was found last week locked in an upstairs room of her brother’s house where she had been isolated for decades. She was unclothed, emaciated and covered with excrement. At her death, she weighed 54 pounds.

The medical report of her ailments speak of misery no one would wish on his worst enemy. She suffered from diabetes, lung disease and goiters. Her joints were misshapen, as was her spine. She was malnourished and endured hyperthyroidism. How long she suffered these conditions is unknown, but the woman, said to be mentally retarded, clearly was incapable of helping herself and, just as clearly, could find no one else to help her until the very end.

Unfortunately, she may not have been the only one in the house in desperate need. As of Tuesday, her sister-in-law was in pain from severe arthritis and diabetes. She had been tied to a chair for years to keep her from falling, yet her husband, Everett Hodsdon, is reported to have refused to discuss getting help. It is incomprehensible that the decisions he made for these two women have been allowed to stand for so long.

Miss Hodsdon was isolated, but not by distance. The house in which she suffered wasn’t miles down a country road, alone with its secrets and conscience. It was near neighbors on a well-traveled street. Two churches were close by. Anyone might drive past the house and consider its exterior a comforting example of New England architecture. Who would know what went on inside? How could they know?

This is not to suggest that the residents of Dover-Foxcroft care any less about their neighbors than do residents of other towns. Every community knows shame. And though not enough information has come to light yet to allow a full understanding of what happened in this case, this much can be said: Protection and care for people nearby doesn’t just happen. Goodness is not bestowed on a town simply because it is small.

The many examples of kindness found each day in communities across the state can blind Mainers to serious instances of abuse and neglect that can occur near by. Just like anywhere else, in places large and small, sometimes neighbors help out and sometimes they don’t. Tragically, sometimes they don’t.