Decatur E. Fiske, born in South Hope in 1856 and son of Hiram and Mary (Bowley) Fiske, trained as a blacksmith in his early years. He found his true calling, however, when he and his wife Carrie (Linnekin) opened their home as The Fiske House Inn in 1887. The inn was located near the dam at the outlet of Fish Pond on the well-traveled road to Augusta (now Route 17) and burned less than 20 years later, in 1907. Many had fond memories of the outings and Sunday dinners enjoyed at the inn. One account was recalled forty years later, in an article in The Courier Gazette in 1941 by Ernest C.Davis.

Present in the hotel at the time were a party of eighteen from Rockland and two sleigh loads from Camden. In the party from Rockland were Mr. and Mrs. Ernest C. Davis, Mr. and Mrs. C.Burrows, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Fuller, Mr. and Mrs. E. B. Hastings, Mr. and Mrs. Simon H. Webb, Mr. and Mrs. N. F. Cobb, Dr. and Mrs. T. E. Tibbetts, Mrs. Lucy Glover and a friend from Boston.The two Camden couples were Mr. and Mrs. E. E. Boynton and Mr. and Mrs. George Achorn.

Well, sir, the snow snew, and the wind blew and the merrymakers inside, busy with one of the famous Fiske House chicken dinners and the after dinner diversions, took little heed of the storm which was burying the countryside under huge white drifts.

"Cate" Fiske glanced out the back door now and then, shrugged his shoulders, piled more pine knots onto the fIre, and in his mild mannered way rather loved the party would have to stay all night. And "Cate" was right -- even righter than he knew, for it was just two days and two nights later before the involuntary guests were able to make their departure.

Three of the men who had important business engagements in Rockland made a desperate attempt to get through but were obliged to turn back after going a short distance.

A small hotel, unprepared for a "rush" would ordinarily be out of luck trying to cater to 22 persons, but fate ordained that supper was to be served to another party on the following day so the twenty two from Rockland and Camden not only ate what had been prepared for them, but the supper which was to have been prepared for the other party. The edible contents of the small store were requisitioned together with all the toothbrushes and soap, which were carried in stock.

Mrs. Selinda Henderson was the cook, and such a cook. Could have made a rubber boot taste like a tenderloin steak.

The marooned Rocklanders finally reached home, but the trip occupied five hours and at Blackington's Corner it was necessary to cut out around the cemetery. This detour might not have been negotiated if cat Burrows hadn't taken the reins. Along the route snow was seen at the eaves of nearly every house. Those old fashioned blizzards exist not in the imagination alone; they were very real.