Here the Story Begins

“By the request of dear friends,” wrote Ellen White just fifty years earlier as she traced the opening lines of her first little book in 1851, “I have consented to give a brief sketch of my experience and views, with the hope that it will cheer and strengthen the humble, trusting children of the Lord.” The “brief sketch” did that. But her active life was to extend over another sixty-four years. Now it is with difficulty that the story is confined to six large volumes.1BIO 17.4

In a fuller account she makes the simple statement:1BIO 17.5

I was born at Gorham, Maine, November 26, 1827. My parents, Robert and Eunice Harmon, were for many years residents of this state.—Testimonies for the Church, 1:9.

The village of Gorham is situated some twelve miles west of the city of Portland in rolling country. If tradition can be trusted, the Harmon family lived in a little one-and-a-half-story cottage on Fort Hill, two miles north of the village. The home stood until 1971, when it was destroyed by fire. It was in this home, in a second-floor bedroom, that twins, Ellen Gould and Elizabeth M. Harmon, were born. Robert Harmon worked the land and possibly, during the bitterly cold winter months, engaged in making hats part-time to supplement the rather meager returns from agricultural pursuits.1BIO 17.6

The name Harmon is well known in the area stretching out to the west from Portland. The family was not an insignificant one. [Ellen's father and mother both sprang from Anglo-Saxon families with traceable lines back through early american history to England. See Appendix A for the genealogical records of her immediate progenitors. A comprehensive “family tree” is available from the Ellen G. White Estate.] Ellen's grandfather Daniel had been a corporal in the Revolutionary War. Her great-grandfather John had married an Irish woman; they were the first of the Harmons to settle in Standish, Maine. Ellen's great-great-grandfather Samuel had been a landowner in comfortable circumstances in Scarboro, Maine, where he built a mill on the river, known as “Harmon's Mill.” Ellen's great-great-great-grandfather John served in King Philip's War, which broke out in 1675. He fought the Indians in “the great swamp fight,” then as a reward was given a grant of land in Maine. He moved to Scarboro in 1726 and was one of the organizers of the First Congregational Church. Most of the Harmons were Congregationalists, but Robert, Ellen's father, broke the tradition. He became a Methodist.1BIO 18.1

On July 11, 1810, Robert Harmon married Eunice Gould, of Portland. At this time Maine was still a part of the State of Massachusetts. It was not until 1820 that it came into its own as a State in the Union. Robert and Eunice are spoken of in 1843 as having been Methodists for forty years, so it seems that both were members of the church from childhood.1BIO 18.2

When Ellen and Elizabeth were born, their oldest sister, Caroline, was 15, Harriet was 13, and John was 11 years old. Mary was 6, and then there was Sarah—with whom Ellen would have the closest relationship—who was 5. Robert was nearly 2 years old when the twins were born.1BIO 18.3

The Fort Hill farm, on which the Harmon home has been understood to have been situated, is two or three hundred yards from the spot where the first settlers of Gorham—also veterans of King Philip's War—built their fort for protection against the Indians. We can well imagine Ellen as a child listening with other children to the old-timers of Gorham telling harrowing stories of the Indian wars, especially of one Gorham settler who decided to stay at home one more day before going to the fort. He wanted to gather the last of his crops, then would come with his family. But on that last day the Indians came, and only one small boy escaped, by hiding in the woods.1BIO 18.4

But probably the recollection of Gorham that Ellen would cherish most was the spacious beauty of the place. The home was located on the brow of a hill overlooking the valley and the mountains beyond. Star flowers and trillium spread their carpet of bloom over the forest floor; beech trees and oaks and birches flung their delicate new leaves in the breeze against the background of the dark evergreens. The land sloped away from the farmhouse and provided a beautiful view of the broad expanse below Sebago Lake; in the distance were the lifting heights of the White Mountains.1BIO 19.1