The Lincoln Squirrel – News, features and photos from Lincoln, Mass.

Stew's Views

Stew’s Views: Life with Whitey and Sweet Lips

By Stewart Coffin

When we moved to Old Sudbury Road in 1964, our plan from the start was to abandon the nursery business and concentrate on farming and gardening. Jane grew up on a poultry farm in New Hampshire, so poultry was her specialty. Not long after we moved in, a man came into our yard with seven Toulouse geese in his truck he wanted to get rid of. He had first gone to Drumlin Farm, but as usual, they did not want them and redirected him to us.

Incidentally, that man lived in Waltham. That might seem like an unlikely place to raise geese, but his home was on a secluded peninsula on the Charles River where you might think you were way out in the country and is probably all changed now. His reason for getting rid of the geese was that they did not get along with his dog. He also raised Muscovy ducks, and later he gave those to us, too.

There was one gander, Whitey, who was clearly the leader; one younger gander; and five females. We let them roam freely. They did such a good job on our lawn that we rarely had to mow it. You just had to wipe your shoes or feet before coming into the house. They had nesting boxes scattered about and raised many young. We also had a commercial-sized incubator given to us by the Woodmans down the road that produced even more. Some we ate, and some we sold or gave away.

Our children had a pet Collie dog, Dusty, a replacement for Rusty, who was hit by a car. In case you were wondering about “sweet lips” in the title of this piece, Dusty was not only friendly but too much so. When I might be lying on my back, perhaps working on the car, I could not stop him from lapping my face — hence my nickname for him from the lyrics of the Jim Reeves song, “He’ll Have to Go.”

Whitey the duck snacking on birthday cake.

Dusty came to us as a puppy, and perhaps as a result, he was always intimidated by the geese. Folks who came to visit were sometimes afraid to get out of their car, especially because of Whitey’s aggression during nesting season. I used to play with him at those times. I would get on my hands and knees, stick my face right into his and ask, “Whitey, are you really serious about this?” and he would back off.

One night Whitey was badly injured, probably by a coyote or stray dog. The young gander, who may have been Whitey’s son, then seized the opportunity to take over being leader of the flock. Poor Whitey, humiliated, abandoned the others and roamed about on his own. But then the strangest thing happened. He became attached to Jane, following her about and even waiting outside when she went in. Yes, I know, hard to believe, but note the photo. When Jane baked a birthday cake for herself, we set it on the driveway momentarily while I went in to get my camera, and look what happened.

Stew’s Views is an occasional column by longtime Lincoln resident Stewart Coffin, who writes about science, nature, economics, history, music, poetry, humor — and puzzles. See previous entries here.

Stew’s Views: The story of a sailing dinghy

By Stewart Coffin

When we moved to Lincoln in 1964, there were five farms all in a row on Old Sudbury Road, and that’s not even counting Drumlin Farm nearby and Ellen Raja’s sheep right across the road. First came Boyce Farm, still actively growing vegetables. Next came Van Leer’s, which was no longer an active dairy farm but instead leased to Watertown Dairy for growing sweet corn. Then our nine-acre farm, formerly Arborway Nurseries. Next, Ray Bowles and his sister Bertha were still hanging on to the old family farm.

Finally, Gus Schumacher had many acres under cultivation right up to Lincoln Road. Not much has changed over the years except for the Schumacher land, which is now developed as Longmeadow Road.

Only once did I have a golden opportunity to chat with Gus Schumacher, and oh how I wish that I had taken some notes. He had heard that I repaired canoes and kayaks, and he wanted to know if I would repair his Old Town sailing dinghy, which of course I offered to do. While I worked, he sat close by and chatted. He once had a vegetable farm in Manhattan, of all places, and he relocated to Lincoln in 1938. His specialty was root crops such as beets, carrots, and turnips. The soil was said to be exceptionally favorable, deep, and free of rocks (much the same as ours). He hired immigrant labor, and we could sometimes overhear them talking, probably in Spanish.

And now the story of the sailing dinghy. Although no longer farming in Manhattan, Gus and his family still had a summer place on Long Island that was right next to Sumner Welles’s. At that time in the early 1940s, Welles was Undersecretary of State under Cordell Hull. I remember both names well. As it happens, Welles was in line to be the next Secretary of State but in 1943 he became involved in a sex scandal with other men, possibly while drunk. Nowadays it might not have made a big stir, but back then…! So that promptly ended his career. His third wife ran off with one of their interns, the Welles property (including the dinghy), went up for auction, and that is how Gus acquired the boat.

Quite a story, but I wish I remembered more. I did a good repair job, so I wonder where that dinghy is now and if the present owners realize its history.

And now, for a slight change of subject, with inflation once again in the news because of the upcoming elections, I have updated my statistical study of the subject that readers might find quite interesting. See this and other writings on various topics on my website, stewartcoffin.com.

 

Stew’s Views: A tribute to Heddie Kent

Introducing “Stew’s Views,” an occasional column by longtime Lincoln resident Stewart Coffin, who writes about science, nature, economics, history, music, poetry, humor — and puzzles.

For the past 56 years, I have been in the business of crafting what some might call geometric recreations or puzzles but I prefer to call simply “AP-ART,” (the art that comes apart.) As I now near retirement age at 96, I have been spending less time at my workbench and more time organizing and documenting. I have even been setting up some display shelves as a sort of little museum in my apartment. In the three books on my work, it recently occurred to me that I have never given proper credit to the Lincoln Library and the one librarian there most responsible for my getting started. So that will be the purpose of this article.

After moving to Lincoln with my family in 1964, I continued for a few more years with my business of making canoes, kayaks, and paddles. But the noxious chemicals I used, such as benzene and acetone, were making me increasingly sick, and I began looking for some other form of work. With a background in art on both sides of my family, in 1968 I started tinkering with polyhedral sculptures, one of which was an interlocking set of twelve notched hexagonal rods.

Lacking the means to make a really accurate model, I consulted our next door neighbor Fred Wilfert, a skilled machinist, who was able to mill one from hexagonal steel rod using the machine tools where he worked at Reese Sewing Machine in Waltham. From that I was able to make a silicone mold and then cast a few in colorful epoxy to give to our three girls, ages 5, 6, and 8 to play with. They all took to their new toy readily.

Back in 1959, the town of Lincoln completed a new addition to our library, which included for the first time a children’s room, and Helen “Heddie” Kent was hired as the town’s first school librarian. When my kids took their new toys to the library to show to their friends, it caught the attention of Heddie, who immediately recognized its potential as a marketable puzzle and contacted me. She put me in touch with her friend and neighbor in Concord, Thomas Atwater, who by remarkable coincidence was one of the few business agents for inventors like myself in the entire country who specialized in puzzles. It was he who edited the Soma newsletter that helped bring attention to Piet Hein’s soon-to-become-famous Soma Cube. 

A Hectix puzzle made in four different colorful woods. 

There is much more to this story, such as the licensing of my Hectix puzzle to 3M, the molding of 100,000 of them by Nylon Products in Clinton, and assembly of 20,000 by our three girls on summer vacation on a picnic table in our backyard. But I won’t go into details here, as all of that together with much more is contained somewhere within my website, stewartcoffin.com. 

My Turn: Drumlin days

By Stewart Coffin

With all the talk in the news these days about nuclear weapons, some Lincoln residents might be surprised to learn that nuclear bombs were once deployed right next door. Don’t worry — note my use of the past tense.

This story begins when my wife and I, together with our three children, move to Lincoln in the summer of 1964. Right away we noticed that our little transistor radio periodically made a strange hissing sound a couple times a minute. It wasn’t long before we associated this with a radar antenna merrily revolving on top of the nearby Drumlin Hill. Back then the top of the hill was clearly visible from our farmyard on Old Sudbury Road, although hard to believe now with so many more trees everywhere.

We were told by neighbors that it was a Nike site of nuclear-armed missiles for defense against Soviet bombers. My later research revealed, to my relief, that this site was only for tracking, and that the actual nuclear-armed missiles were housed deep underground a mile away off of Oxbow Road. Since a few years earlier I had been employed at Lincoln Laboratory working on, of all things, the Sage System of continental air defense, you might think I would have known all about this. But my division worked only on computers. The site was opened in 1959 and decommissioned in 1974. All that remains now, thankfully, is the once bare hilltop now partly covered with trees.

I actually have many fond memories of that hilltop. We had a family tradition of taking the children for a stroll up there on one special evening during the summer to gaze at the full moon rising far to the east. We called it our Moon Walk. The view back then was spectacular. It is less so now with so many more trees, but the large fields that were once Boyce and Van Leer farms are now still open and cultivated as part of Drumlin Farm, thus still affording at least a partial view. Even our own nine-acre plot remains the same, as does so much along our rustic road. Ah yes, so many memories.

Editor’s note: Learn more about the Nike missile sites in Lincoln and Wayland here and here. Stewart Coffin was profiled in the Lincoln Squirrel on April 1, 2026. 

“My Turn” is a forum for readers to offer their letters to the editor or views on any subject of interest to other Lincolnians. Submissions must be signed with the writer’s name and street address and sent via email to lincolnsquirrelnews@gmail.com. Items will be edited for punctuation, spelling, style, etc., and will be published at the discretion of the editor. Submissions containing personal attacks, errors of fact, or other inappropriate material will not be published.

My Turn: the old shooting range

By Stewart Coffin

One time about 50 years ago, my wife and I were hiking in that large tract of woodland and swamp where the towns of Lincoln, Weston, and Wayland all come together, now called Van Leer Conservation Land, when we came upon a strange excavation that looked to be manmade. We couldn’t figure out what it was, but on the way home, Hans Van Leer happened to be out in his front yard and we stopped to chat.

He said we had probably discovered the old World War II shooting range. It seems that some of the local men too old to serve had formed a sort of local “militia” and practiced shooting with ammunition that was hard to buy at that time but was provided by the government. He also said there was a spring nearby that they used to keep their beer cool.

All of this I am reporting from memory after half a century later, and I hope I have got it right. There were probably more details that I wish I had recorded but have now forgotten. This and more must have been recorded sometime somewhere, if only I could find it. I thought it might be important enough to be noted on the conservation handout and map, but evidently not. Recently I have returned to look for that site and of course it is still there, although much overgrown and harder to find now. I have also brought along a few friends to point out the site.

The site appears to me as being located near where the three towns come together. I am guessing the excavation and grading was done using a tractor. If so, the access might have been via the Schumacher farm land that is now Appletree Lane rather than across the large swamp that now has a long boardwalk.

An important first step would be to verify that we have the site right, which might be done by historical research. Or try to find that cool spring (if it still exists) or look for spent cartridges. My thought is that the site might be worth marking on a map, together with a brief description. I am now 96 and trying to bring to fruition projects like this while still around. Anyone with more information may contact me at stcmsd@aol.com.

“My Turn” is a forum for readers to offer their letters to the editor or views on any subject of interest to other Lincolnians. Submissions must be signed with the writer’s name and street address and sent via email to lincolnsquirrelnews@gmail.com. Items will be edited for punctuation, spelling, style, etc., and will be published at the discretion of the editor. Submissions containing personal attacks, errors of fact, or other inappropriate material will not be published.

My Turn: Seeking a certain young puzzle fan

(Editor’s note: see “Putting the pieces together for almost a century” published in the Lincoln Squirrel on 

By Stewart Coffin

This message is my attempt to locate a missing person. But first some background.

For many years I have been engaged in the art of designing geometric shapes that come apart, sometimes called puzzles, and crafting them in fine woods. I was participating in a craft show at Rhinebeck, N.Y., in 1973 when a young girl stopped by my display and proceeded to try assembling my Altekruse burr in a clever new way using fourteen pieces rather than the standard twelve. I was so impressed that I later added it to my catalog as Design #57, Plus 2.

That girl’s name was Marjorie Hoffman, but I don’t recall how I happened to know that. I give her credit for that design in my book Geometric Puzzle Design and also on my website (page 61 in AP-ART: The Art That Comes Apart). My hope was that someday a woman would present herself at one of my craft shows and say, “I’m Marjorie.” But now time is running out, and I guess it will never happen.

“Pin-Hole,” before and after.

And now to the present. On April 4 of this year, I was participating in a craft fair at the Pierce House in Lincoln when a girl, about age 10 I would guess and possibly accompanied by a parent, stopped by my display and proceed to try assembling my Pin-Hole puzzle (page 26 in AP-ART: The Art That Comes Apart) in a clever new way with a completely different shape. Again, I was so struck by the scheme that I added a few refinements of my own and included it in my line. If all goes according to plan, a friend of mine will use it as an exchange gift in the annual meeting of the International Puzzle Party, to be held next year in Toronto.

I would like to give that girl credit for coming up with the clever new shape, but who is she? You can reach me at stewcoffin@gmail.com.

“My Turn” is a forum for readers to offer their letters to the editor or views on any subject of interest to other Lincolnians. Submissions must be signed with the writer’s name and street address and sent via email to lincolnsquirrelnews@gmail.com. Items will be edited for punctuation, spelling, style, etc., and will be published at the discretion of the editor. Submissions containing personal attacks, errors of fact, or other inappropriate material will not be published.

Putting the pieces together for almost a century

Stewart Coffin at home with some of his 3-D puzzles.

Editor’s note: This article originally appeared in the Spring 2026 issue of the Lincoln Review.

Stewart Coffin is a maker. In his 95 years, he’s become world-famous for the three-dimensional puzzles he designs and builds. In his varied career, he’s also been an electrical engineer, a boat builder, a writer, and even a nursery owner.

Coffin’s creations are legendary in the puzzle world. He’s designed hundreds of interlocking 3-D puzzles including striking polyhedral sculptures, ingenious tray-packing challenges, and pioneering examples of interlocking cube puzzles, according to puzzlehub.org. He’s written several books on the topic as well, including Geometric Puzzle Design and AP-ART: A Compendium of Geometric Puzzles (the start of the title is a nod to “the art that comes apart”). He still makes a few puzzles and sometimes sells them to individuals and at events such as the Lincoln Art & Farmer’s Market in December 2025 (and he’ll be back there on April 3).

Puzzle craft led to another item on Coffin’s resume: public speaker. He’s appeared at numerous puzzle conventions and was on an American Association for the Advancement of Science panel of puzzle experts. “His polyhedral puzzles, they’re beautiful three-dimensional sculptures, basically. To create the structure from these bits and pieces of three-dimensional sticks is creating an object of art. You’re not designing it, but you’re creating this art by putting it together,” Jerry Slocum, founder of the International Puzzle Party, told the Andover Eagle-Tribune in 2007.

Coffin came to puzzle-making after starting out building computers for the defense industry at MIT Lincoln Laboratory in the 1950s but grew disenchanted with that line of work. After he left the corporate world, he began to make a living with hands (and pen) as a woodworker, designer and maker of canoes and paddles, and writer.

He was also a somewhat reluctant businessman in his first Lincoln sojourn, which began in 1964 when he and his wife were looking for a house that could accommodate their young family as well as a workshop. A property on Old Sudbury Road came on the market that included several acres of land and a greenhouse used in the previous owner’s nursery business. They bought the property — but it turned out that the business was in bankruptcy, and some customers who had paid for plants that were never delivered came calling. 

“I was trained as an electrical engineer and here I was a nursery man, and I knew nothing about it,” he said. “People said, ‘you can’t let it die; we’ll help you,’ so they helped me and it worked out beautifully.” It also turned out that if they made $500 a year selling plants they could classify their property as a farm, which resulted in a helpful reduction in their property taxes.

Coffin eventually won patents for two of his puzzle designs, including one called Hectix, and he caught the attention of 3M. But the design was so complex that factory workers were unable to assemble them, so the parts were shipped to his Lincoln residence where he, his daughters and neighborhood children all put them together, reportedly making 20,000 puzzles in two weeks. 

Lincoln was a good fit for someone who grew up hiking and camping in the Pioneer Valley and always enjoyed the outdoors. He made many friends in town who were fellow members of the Appalachian Mountain Club and was also part of the farming community — he and his wife raised poultry and grew produce that they sold at a stand outside their house, which was close to Boyce Farm, the Van Leer farm, and Ellen Raja’s sheep farm, which is still in operation. “It was fun and it made everybody happy, so I wrote a book about it,” he said

Tipcart Tales is a sequel to a volume about his early life called Tall Trees and Wild Bees: Memories of Childhood That Never Really Ended. He’s also written poetry, fiction, essays, natural history (Good Earth’s Bounty, illustrated with photographs taken by his father, R.L. Coffin, and Black Spruce Journals, about canoe tripping in the Canadian wilderness) — and most recently, Reflections (2025), which he describes as “looking pensively back and critically ahead.” That title and his other books that are out of print are available as free PDFs on his website (stewartcoffin.com).

After his wife died in 1991, Coffin moved around in eastern Massachusetts. His son in law and daughter, Chris Brown and Margie Coffin Brown (a landscape architect for the National Park Service who’s based at Minute Man National Historical Park), bought the house from him after he donated several acres of the property to the town.

Speaking of history, Coffin has another story: his grandfather lied about his age to join the army and fight in the Civil War. Coffin’s father was the youngest of seven children and had Stewart at age 40. “Add it all together and I may be the last person alive whose grandfather was in the Civil War. I would not be a bit surprised,” he said.

As of September 2025, he’s living in a newly renovated part of the house that gained an addition since he first lived there in the 1960s. In 2003, the state took the Pillar House, an 1845 Green Revival building in Newton, by eminent domain and offered it for $1 to anyone who would move it. Coffin’s daughter and son-in-law plunked down the dollar, moved it to Lincoln piece by piece, and attached it to the Old Sudbury Road house.

The greenhouse, which he used as a utility building and chicken coop back in the day, is now his workshop, but it’s unheated, so in the winter he can only use it on sunny afternoons, “and even then it’s tough because the glue that I use does not set when it’s cold,” he said. Fortunately, he has some indoor space to work in with a picture window where he can watch the voracious birds (he has to fill the feeders twice a day, he said). He’s still writing, and his latest book on woodworking is about to be published.

“In recent years, puzzlecraft has just been one of my many pastimes, which have included control of invasive plants and collecting food donations for the needy. But much of my effort now goes into trying to improve my website, stewartcoffin.com, especially the final chapter, Reflections,” Coffin said. “It is my feeble attempt at trying to help solve some of the many puzzles now facing our country and the world.”