Mike Rosenthal, of Round Pond, passed away Oct. 8. He was born Michael “Mike” Francis Rosenthal on Nov. 13, 1938 to Mina Barnett and Edward Marcus Rosenthal of Meriden, Conn. Mike had a sister, Sheila, whom he loved but who died some years ago. His parents died long ago.
Mike’s friends were his family. He was an intrepid traveler with a wanderlust. He followed his many varied interests to the ends of the earth. He loved the water and the woods, all aspects of nature really – birds and wildlife, plants and trees, watching the weather and vivid sunsets. He was particularly fond of fishing and was a master angler who thought like a fish, even writing a book on the subject: “North America’s Freshwater Fishing Book: A Comprehensive Guide to Catching the 22 Most Popular Game Fish in the United States and Canada.”
The man was crazy about dogs, always carrying treats in his pockets, and made a lifelong habit of patiently taming wild creatures, birds especially, and once had a red fox eating out of his hand (and had pictures to prove it).
Another of his passions was looking for and collecting American Indian arrowheads and artifacts. He was extremely good at it and could tell by “the feel” of a spot whether it was worth searching. His trained eye was always scanning the ground as he walked.
Because of his nomadic habit and the nature of his interests, Mike was a true minimalist. His entire possessions would fit into his small car if need be, though when he settled in for a time, his domain was clean as a whistle and neat as a pin. He kept beautiful plants in his home, especially in the place where he spent a lot of time reading. He liked being alone with his pursuits, which did make him seem a bit of a recluse (and which he admitted to being), but he was a smiling, friendly recluse, always polite and considerate and curious what others were up to.
Mike’s first job as a little kid, back in the time of Victory Gardens and self-sufficiency during WWII, was to milk the family cow. His sister took care of the chickens, but Mike preferred the cow because he could lean against her, all warm and steamy, on cold winter mornings.
He attended the University of Vermont, majoring in English, then took a stab at law school but decided against that. Later on he earned a masters degree in political science. Next, he entered the very first class of Peace Corps volunteers, which took him to the Philippines, where, after teaching for a while, he worked on fishing boats.
Besides English, Mike taught political science at the University of Arkansas, was a political campaign worker for Eugene McCarthy, taught at York College in Pennsylvania, later wrote an environmental column for the Daily Hampshire Gazette in North Hampton, Mass. and then taught English again for a year in Diego Garcia in the Indian Ocean. At different times, he lived in Hawaii; explored Australia; fished all over New Zealand, Canada and great fishing states like Montana; made candles in Key West and worked variously as a fisherman, gardener, columnist, bookseller, dock worker and orchard man. Boredom was his enemy, variety the spice of his life.
Mike finally settled in Maine in the early 90s. He liked it here a whole lot, loved the people, and after 20 years in Round Pond, decreed it was the longest he’d ever stayed anywhere in his life. He had no plans to move on and maintained it was a good place to end up. When it was determined he had not long to live, he accepted it with philosophical gallantry. He tidied up his affairs and said goodbye to all his many friends.
Mike wanted no fanfare in his wake, but allowed that his friends could roast him if they saw fit. They do, and they will.
