Twenty-one years might be a social generation, but in other terms it is just the blink of an eye. Whether you’re talking about Derry, Maine or Randolph, an unsolved wrong will go on to haunt residents until the ghosts are put to rest by some modicum of justice which has, until now, been denied Lawrence Farrell, aka Bicycle Larry.
The eyes of the waitress at the A1 Diner in Gardiner, across the Kennebec River from Randolph, brighten at the mention of Bicycle Larry, who disappeared from the area in November 2004.
“It seems like yesterday,” she recalled wistfully.
Some say he was killed by that guy with a ton of dogs, she relays, unconvinced. It’s hard to say what happened, but his brother, Bicycle Bill, was still around until he passed two years ago and their uncle baked biscuits for the diner for a half century.
The guy with the dogs was Norris Perry, otherwise known as the “Lonesome Loon,” and Norris was definitely bad news, folks in town remember.
“The Lonesome Loon gave Larry a place to stay but he was always complaining about him too,” Peter at Randolph Hardware remembers. “He was always cussing but because he helped me with the demo work on my house I kind of befriended him when I first moved to town,” Peter remembered of the Lonesome Loon.
“But when I told the folks at the IGA that, they were shocked,” he added.
The Lonesome Loon, and Bicycle Larry, lived in a trailer near the top of the Narrow Gauge trail, by the Windsor town line. The trail, which is widely said to be haunted, runs down to the Kennebec. In the past it served as a railroad access route to the Veterans’ Administration hospital at TOGUS, and the mournful cries of long-past passengers are still said to be heard it in the dark of night this time of year.
When he stopped collecting his social security checks in November 2004, people in town began asking one another what had happened to Bicycle Larry, who – unlike Perry – had been a friendly presence around the area. Last seen in late October, he’d just plum disappeared.
Then in December, the Lonesome Loon committed suicide by overdosing on pills. Before doing so, he’d left a voice message with his sister confessing to having killed Larry and disposed of his body by the brook behind his place. While authorities had to wait until spring to search in earnest, neither Larry nor his bicycle were ever found.
In the intervening years, some report having seen a spectral presence of him, riding his red Huffy, along the Narrow Gauge trail.
“No, I never saw anything like that,” Peter told The Maine Wire,” but I will say that the Loon could be creepy. He once said to me ‘you’re the kind of guy who likes to go to sleep in a bed with nicely-folded sheets, I know because I’ve been watching,'” Peter recalled in a casual way that nonetheless sent a chill down this reporter’s spine.
When asked if he thought Perry was capable of murder, Peter said “yes, definitely.”
If the Loon really did kill Larry, then why were no traces found after all these years? Even if Perry’s pack of dogs had devoured Larry’s flesh, some bones would remain as would his once iconic bicycle. The Maine State Police deployed both cadaver dogs and a backhoe during their fruitless 2005 search.
According to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, Lawrence Farrell is case number MP35722. Mysteries are unsettling, which is why for many the Lonesome Loon’s deathbed confession is reassuring. But it remains unsupported by evidence beyond the claim of a ranting, angry man.
So long as the file remains open, and the memories of him alive in the minds of those around Randolph, Gardiner, Chelsea and Windsor, Bicycle Larry still rides – imploring us for answers.
Happy Halloween!
Ted Cohen contributed to the reporting for this article.
