The idea of a first-rate arts center in Brownfield is about as unusual to this little town as the fact that the woman who wants to start it, friendly Carol Noonan from up Dugway Road, is herself a singer-songwriter with a healthy national following.

By all accounts, Brownfield is still recovering from a nightmare it endured nearly 50 years ago. Prior to 1947, life in Brownfield was a real hoot. The village was huge — three times the size of present-day Fryeburg — and people from miles away came to Brownfield to hang out and visit the families who had lived in town for generations and who planned to live in town for many more generations to come. But then, during a bone dry October that year, disaster struck. Wild fires, which had been burning in pockets throughout much of the state, moved into town. Some 80 percent of Brownfield was leveled by the forest fire — flames destroyed the Main Street lined with elegant houses, turned the town’s tall red and white pines to ashes, blackened the delicate picket fences. Nearly everything that makes a town a town was taken in the fire during those hellish days — the post office and other municipal buildings, the churches, the school.

After the fire, many of the families who had watched the houses they called home burn to the ground left forever. Scorched Brownfield was left without a downtown, without a gathering place, and worst of all, without many of the residents who formed its cultural roots. Land was put up for sale at a penny an acre. Brownfield became known as the place where poor families go to start fresh. The town’s reputation had changed overnight — from an attractive destination spot to a wasteland without a past. Noonan heard the rumors about the town before she moved there. Years ago, working as a bartender in Lewiston, she got stiffed for a tip by a couple of customers. A coworker leaned over and said to her, "They must be from Brownfield."

Stuart Smith is fixing up the new library in Brownfield. It’s a tiny one-room wood frame on the western edge of Main Street, which is the humble result of years of passionate internal town lobbying. Smith, a carpenter and the former code enforcement officer for the town, is a member of the new generation of Brownfielders, a transplant from New Jersey who came to town in 1988 to escape the hustle and bustle of urban spots. Smith says Brownfield these days is still feeling the after-effects of the Great Fire of ‘47, and it shows up in the downtown, or lack thereof. See, Main Street in Brownfield is unlike pretty much any other Main Street in America. Why? Well, first of all, there aren’t any stores to speak of.

Sure, there’s the Wooden Nickel Wood Crafts and Grant’s on the edge of town (otherwise simply known as "the store"), which may or may not count since Grant’s is more on Route 113 than Main Street. There’s also a used auto parts shop, which could make the tally three if you figure it fits, and a tiny but appealing coffeeshop called the Caribou Café. But there aren’t enough stores to differentiate Main Street from a residential country road. There’s so little traffic on Main Street, in fact, that in mid-afternoon on a gorgeous spring day a farmer can drive his mulch-filled tractor down the road and not inconvenience anyone.

Smith says the problem in Brownfield is everyone in town is accustomed to driving the five miles to New Hampshire to buy things and to go to shows, since you can save on sales tax across the border. And so the town never bothered to zone for businesses. Which makes businesses not particularly interested in the town. Which makes the town not really motivated to zone for businesses. You can see it gets complicated.

Smith, a friend of Noonan’s, thinks the Stone Mountain Arts Center she’s building on her property just might fly, mostly because of her popularity in Brownfield.

"She could probably pull it off because of her background and who she is as a person," he says. "She’s got quite a gift as an entertainer and she’s engaging. I figure she must be pretty smart."

Smith says Noonan’s parties are so popular that some folks have started getting peeved if they’re passed over for an invite. So, if her parties are any indication of her appeal, Smith figures Brownfield residents will check out her arts center once it opens in the fall. Beyond her local popularity, Smith also thinks Noonan has a great eye for timing. Brownfield is coming around, he believes. It’s finally getting back on its feet again.

"The demographic in town has changed rapidly since 9/11," with new residents from New York City and Boston, says Smith. "The stage is set for some community rebirth. We’re in the midst of the birth pangs now because there are all these forward-thinking progressive people here going up against the old farm families pre-fire."

Wanda Bartlett has heard about Noonan’s Stone Mountain idea and she’s also heard people in Brownfield like it. Bartlett has lived in town for 28 years and holds a handful of jobs in town government. Bartlett is the town clerk, the treasurer, the tax collector, and the registrar. Which makes her the person in town with the sharpest ear to the pavement.

"I’ve heard very good things about it around town," she says. "People are looking for somewhere to go and listen and have a quiet evening. I’m pretty excited about it."

Up on Dugway Road, Noonan and Flagg’s next big challenge is to lay the foundation for the music hall in their backyard and to install the septic system. Then they’ll hoist the long, narrow timber frame building which will be the music hall (Flagg now uses it to make fishing nets) up over the barn and along the tree line at the back of the house. If all goes according to plan, including Noonan’s attempt to raise $200,000 from outside investors, the center will have its first show in the fall. And then the real pressure starts.

"If it doesn’t work, we’ll have to sell our property, we’ll lose everything we have," she says. Despite the risk, neither she nor Flagg seem concerned. They both are convinced Brownfield and everyone within a 50-mile radius needs something like Stone Mountain Arts.

"I’m a musician. I’ve never lived a stable way my whole life," she says. "My husband is in the fishing industry and that’s on the way out; same thing. I thought, do I really want to be on tour at 60 playing in some stupid folk club in North Carolina? For the future of this town, [Stone Mountain Arts] could only be a good thing. Somebody’s got to do it."

Time will tell if Noonan and her progressive ways will make Brownfield, Maine a place you’ve heard only good things about.

— Sara Donnelly