Tidewater Times
January 2021
www.SaintMichaelsWaterfront.com
ST. MICHAELS WATERFRONT! This spacious Three-bedroom Hambleton Cove unit has just been updated with style! Three new baths, all with tile showers, kitchen with subway tile backsplash and quartzite counters, deck and patio overlooking Hambleton Cove and the Miles River, huge primary bedroom with gorgeous views. Includes a boat slip. The Links at Perry Cabin golf course is in view and Historic St. Michaels is nearby. Just listed $695,000
Tom & Debra Crouch
Benson & Mangold Real Estate
116 N. Talbot St., St. Michaels ¡ 410-745-0720 Tom Crouch: 410-310-8916 Debra Crouch: 410-924-0771
tcrouch@bensonandmangold.com dcrouch@bensonandmangold.com
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Since 1924
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Interiors
19535 Camelot Dr. Rehoboth Beach, DE
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Vol. 69, No. 8
Published Monthly
January 2021
Features: Publisher's Note . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 About the Cover Artist: Meg Nottingham Walsh . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Angels Unaware: Helen Chappell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 A Journey in Pink: Bonna L. Nelson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 Bringing Light into the New Year: Mike Valliant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Easton's Potter's Field: James Dawson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 Tidewater Kitchen - Soup's On!: Pamela Meredith . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63 Tidewater Gardening - Houseplant Care: K. Marc Teffeau . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81 Transitions: A.M. Foley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97 Changes ~ All American (Part XVI): Roger Vaughan . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
Departments:
January Tide Table . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43 Easton Map and History . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45 Caroline County ~ A Perspective . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77 Queen Anne’s County . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79 Dorchester Map and History . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95 St. Michaels Map and History . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99 Oxford Map and History . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103 Kent County . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113 Tilghman ~ Bay Hundred . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115 Anne B. Farwell & John D. Farwell, Co-Publishers Proofing: Jodie Littleton & Kippy Requardt Deliveries: Nancy Smith, April Jewel & Brandon Coleman Social Media Liaison: Mary Farwell P. O. Box 1141, Easton, Maryland 21601 3947 Harrison Circle, Trappe, Maryland 21673 410-714-9389 FAX : 410-476-6286 www.tidewatertimes.com info@tidewatertimes.com
Tidewater Times is published monthly by Bailey-Farwell, LLC. Advertising rates upon request. Subscription price is $30.00 per year. Individual copies are $4. Contents of this publication may not be reproduced in part or whole without prior approval of the publisher. Printed by Delmarva Printing, Inc. The publisher does not assume any liability for errors and/or omissions.
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We here at Tidewater Times would like to wish all of our readers and advertisers a very Happy, Prosperous, and above all, Healthy New Year.
2020 was one of the most challenging years we have seen in all of our 69 years of publication. We would like to thank all of our loyal and faithful advertisers for your support. We would also like to recognize our hard-working writers and support staff. Our little office was hit hard by Covid-19 this year, and without them, there wouldn't have been a January issue. And last, but certainly not least, Thank You to all the first responders, medical personnel, and all the essential workers for all you've done for our communities. Wishing you the very best in 2021 from the Tidewater Times family!
- John and Anne Farwell 5
Voted Best Interior Design Services and Furniture Store on the Shore! The finest in home furnishings, interior design, appliances, floor coverings, custom draperies and re-upholstery. 902 Talbot Street, St. Michaels, MD 410-745-5192 · 410-822-8256 · Mon. - Fri. 8-5, Sat. 10 - 4 higginsandspencer.com · higginsandspencer.hdwfg.com 6
About the Cover Artist Meg Nottingham Walsh “My goal as an artist is to translate the landscape, emphasizing what interests me most about a specific place at a moment in time. I want you to see the world through my eyes.” Known for landscapes drenched in light and color, Meg has won awards at major juried exhibits and plein air competitions. Though realistic in nature, her work has a strong abstract element characterized by simplified shapes, limited values and glowing color. Her paintings have been purchased by the Academy Art Museum in Easton, the National Institutes of Health, Georgetown University Hospital, Martha Jefferson
Hospital in Charlottesville, Virginia, the town of Oxford and many private collectors. She is an elected member of the historic Washington Society of Landscape Painters and the Salmagundi Club in New York. Her paintings are featured in the book 100 Plein Air Painters of the MidAtlantic. Meg is an instructor at the Academy Art Museum in Easton. The cover painting, "Winter's Blanket," along with her other works, can be seen locally at The Trippe Gallery, 23 North Harrison Street, Easton, or at megwalsh.com.
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Angels Unaware by Helen Chappell
The road is rough but beautiful. It probably started out as a deer trail, twisting and winding around corners and up and down rises, over old stream beds and through woods and open pastures. Often, it’s a path through overhanging trees. And always, the deep, deep ditches with tiny shoulders that make a narrow two-lane asphalt strip an obstacle course. I’ve seen vehicles down in those ditches. I’ve seen the wreckers pull them out, I’ve seen the deep muddy scars where some poor soul was rescued. But I’d never slid into a ditch before that day. I thought I was charmed growing up, learning to avoid those ditches like homemade sin. Which guaranteed karma would hand me a ditch. You remember when we had about two weeks of daily rain? When there were f loods everywhere and the ditches overf lowed, running like creeks down the side of the shoulderless backroads? Yeah, that time. When I was rescued by angels unawares. And it all had to do with heroes. There I was, driving up the road, thinking about Neil Armstrong. You remember Neil, first man on the moon. For some reason, the
late hero astronaut had been passing through my mind after I saw a photograph of him in his Apollo space suit, heading for the moon. He was young, grinning, getting ready for launch into an unknown space that summer day in 1969. That photo had snagged my attention recently when I was looking for something else. Armstrong was a bona fide hero who had gotten his pilot’s license before he could drive, f lown bombing missions, risked his life as a test pilot and was designated to be the first human on the moon just a few hours after that photo was taken. He was a hero, and that day I ditched, it seemed like heroes were thin on the ground. Neil had a baby face. Not ugly or anything, just young. This hotshot guy looked so young. Which led to me, always curious, to pondering 9
Angels Unaware what he would have been like as a person, specifically, did he have a sense of humor . . . And then bang, it happened. Coming down the middle of the road toward me was a huge white pickup, taking his half out of the middle of a narrow, winding, deep- ditched backroad. The young bro’ gave me a snarling grin as I steered desperately to the right to avoid a head-on collision with his monster truck. There was a huge jolt and a bump as my Honda tilted to an 80-degree angle, sliding into a f looded ditch. Like most accidents, it happened in slow motion. It was as if I could see myself from some place above my head as the car pitched out of my control. The white truck never even slowed down as I tried to catch my breath and my balance. The last I saw of that truck was a political banner in the back, waving around the curve as the monster disappeared down the hill toward town. I lurched into the ditch and ground to a stop, buried in mud. I was wearing my seat belt, or I would have been f lung into the wheel well. As it was, I was down and dusted, and I knew it. I was very deep in a watery ditch. I tried my tried-and-true method of getting out of a slippery slope. I rocked the car, but to no avail. I
Wishing Everyone a Happy and Healthy New Year!
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Angels Unaware
going to have to do some serious gymnastics just to get out of the car. And my body was too stiff and my breathing too shallow to make crawling out a backseat window easy ~ not at my age and after quarantining from the pandemic for months. I decided to sit and wait until someone else drove along and some of my mind calmed down enough to figure out a plan. One, two, three SUVs passed me, and in spite of my frantic waving, no one stopped. Just stared and drove right past, a parade of Karens on their cell phones. I pride myself on doing what I’ve been trained to do in an emergency, but nothing trained me for being trapped in a ditch.
tried to open the driver’s door, but between the weight and the muddy embankment, I couldn’t open the door. I was eyeball deep in a f looded ditch on a two-lane blacktop. Ordinarily, it was a pretty, forested drive, but not today. Like I say, I’d seen other people ditched along this road, but I foolishly thought I was a good enough driver it would never happen to me. Ha. Here I was, trapped, arthritic, breathless and immobile. Getting out of what was essentially a four-footdeep muddy hole was going to be an event. After some hopeless struggle, pushing fruitlessly against a door packed in mud, I realized I was
Note: this is not a picture of the actual accident. 12
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Angels Unaware
themselves with my health, if I was cold, if I had someone I could call. Was I okay? Anything broken? They helped me call my garage and get the name of a tow truck driver, who was immediately on his way. Long ago, I wrote a short story about a woman who ran into a ditch on a deserted road and was rescued by a pair of scruffy hermit brothers, and here was some version of that happening in real life. My angels unawares had become real. They were far from scruffy and seemed to me to have better people skills than a pair of fictional hermits. Best of all, they were there to rescue me. If I’d tried at the time to explain this story coincidence to Mike and
I was just about to cry when a white van rolled up and, miracle of miracles, stopped. Two slender young guys in white got out and came to my rescue. It might have been the sun in my eyes, but it sure looked as if they had halos. Mike Fitzgerald and his nephew Matt sure looked like angels to me. They somehow got the door open and pried me, stiff and breathless and upset, out of the Honda. I was so ripped up between fear and gratitude I could barely walk or talk as they guided me to sit in the back of their van while I tried to recover myself and didn’t do a very good job of it. They concerned
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Angels Unaware
me, which he did. Pulled that Honda right out of that ditch and testdrove it for me so I was safe to get back on the road. Another angel. I’m just grateful for these gentlemen who rescued me from a situation I couldn’t get out of by myself. I want everyone to know not all heroes are first to set foot on the moon like Neil Armstrong. There are real heroes right here on the Eastern Shore. But, you know, I still say you could fool me. I think these two gentlemen and their white van were angels sent to rescue me from yet another dumb stunt. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
Matt, they would have been convinced that I was even crazier than I already sounded. And I think I sounded pretty shaky. Mike and Matt refused to leave me on the road, waiting for the tow truck. Even though they had another job they were heading for, they insisted on staying on that road with me as traffic whizzed by, keeping me safe from the Karens in their SUVs. So I found out that Mike Fitzgerald, my senior angel, is the owner of FitzMechanical, a master plumber, trenching, sewer and drain cleaner and gas piping specialist who operates out of East New Market at 443-205-9776, mfitz1787@gmail. com. Matt, his nephew, is a journeyman for the business. We had quite a nice visit waiting for the tow truck, and they wouldn’t leave until they’d talked to Eliut Jimenez of Jimenez Towing 410-829-3359, Eliutlatundra@gmail.com, and made sure he would take care of
Helen Chappell is the creator of the Sam and Hollis mystery series and the Oysterback stories, as well as The Chesapeake Book of the Dead. Under her pen names, Rebecca Baldwin and Caroline Brooks, she has published a number of historical novels.
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Wishing You A Happy and Healthy New Year!
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WINK COWEE, ASSOCIATE BROKER Benson & Mangold Real Estate 211 N. Talbot St. St. Michaels, MD 21663
410-310-0208 (DIRECT) 410-745-0415 (OFFICE) www.BuyTheChesapeake.com winkcowee@gmail.com
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BREATHTAKING SUNSETS and wide panoramic views. Escape to Loblolly Cove, just minutes from St. Michaels. 4 BRs/3 BAs on almost 5 private acres. Modern floorplan with gourmet kitchen, living and dining open to screened porch with beamed ceiling and patio surrounding the in-ground pool. Game room, protected shoreline, pier with lift. Not in a flood zone. A highly successful vacation rental. $1,995,000
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A Journey in Pink Part I, Discovery and Two Cuts by Bonna L. Nelson
We have a responsibility to the world to be a beacon of light. ~ Chadwick Boseman American actor known for portraying Jackie Robinson, James Brown, Thurgood Marshall and the Black Panther, who died at age 43 on August 28, 2020, after courageously battling colon cancer for four years. My travel journeys, my life journey (including my government career, managing people and projects and my writing career) and my life experiences as a daughter, sister, w ife, mother, grandmother and friend have all contributed in some way to my ability to navigate my current journey ~ my Journey in
I have traveled all over the world, to many exciting places, to all seven continents. I toured the glorious Taj Mahal and rode an elephant in India. I climbed the Great Wall and admired the amazing Terra Cotta Warriors in China. I explored the ancient city of Machu Picchu high in the Andes Mountains in Peru. In Rome, I wandered through glorious ruins and toured Vatican City. I climbed down a cliff on the lovely island of Santorini, Greece, and trekked up to the Acropolis overlooking Athens. I have sailed into the glorious harbors of Quebec City, Sydney and Venice, and through the Panama Canal. I have watched the Maori performing their ceremonial dance, the “Haka,� in Rotorua, New Zealand, and danced the sensuous Tango in Buenos Aires, Argentina. I have been penguin and whale watching in Antarctica, and so much more. I am blessed to have so many memories of so many journeys. 21
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A Journey in Pink
citizens of the United States and our global neighbors. My unanticipated BC journey began in March at the beginning of the pandemic. No travel, life, pandemic or cancer journey is the same. I decided to share my journey with readers to raise awareness, to help others on their journey, to educate, to entertain and to share my appreciation and recognition for my family, friends and medical team for their support and encouragement on the crossing to the cure. Like many of you, I postponed a routine mammogram scheduled for March and other medical appointments when we were advised to isolate, mask, distance, sanitize, etc. Sadly, we also cancelled 2020 travel plans: a family trip to Negril, Jamaica, for Easter; a northwestern Canada tour with friends; and a trip through the Gulf states in the fall. Several months later, as the pandemic raged and my discovery emerged, we cancelled a January 2021 trip to Egypt, including a five-day sail on the Nile River, planned since 2019. As the pandemic crested in late spring, I rescheduled my routine mammogram for June 9 at Chesapeake Medical Imaging in Easton. As soon as the mammogram was completed, Dr. Alison Williams, the facility radiologist, read the results and asked me to stay for a sonogram. I’d had decades of normal mammograms, but Dr. Williams discovered something irregular and
Pink, my breast cancer (BC) journey. Everyone was on a new journey in 2020. Perhaps in February, definitely by March. The COVID-19 pandemic took us all down new paths. It was and is a unique, frightening, deadly, crippling, isolating and overwhelming experience for most of us, and one that the world was not expecting or anticipating. Nor do we know for sure when we will overcome its effects. The pandemic has touched all 7.8 billion of us. Communally, our health, peace of mind, behavior, economics and relationships are all affected. To top it all off, 2020 was marked by a contentious and raucous rollercoaster ride of a presidential election and its effects on the psyches of both the
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ber 2018 and had finished physical therapy for the knee, back and hip ~ all consequences of a misaligned knee ~ in June 2019. I went on to experience a dental issue that required a tooth removal and uncomfortable orthodontic appliances applied in July 2019, with removal delayed by COVID-19 until June 2020, coinciding with my BC discovery. I left my excellent dental team with Dr. Margaret Quimby and fell into the arms of my excellent BC team within days of each other. I was driving and pulled over when Dr. Williams called me the Tuesday after the biopsy with the results, only a week after she had read the mammogram and sonogram. I find that incredibly amazing. We are all so
wanted to see what a sonogram of the right breast would reveal. Along with Dr. Williams and the radiology technician, I saw a dark circle on my right breast on the sonogram. I knew then and there that I was about to embark on a new, very foreign journey. Dr. Williams scheduled me for bloodwork the next day and a biopsy that Friday, June 12. The journey was moving rapidly. The biopsy took place as scheduled. To be honest, it didn’t bother me too much. I’ve had a number of basal cell skin cancer biopsies and removals, so I’m a bit used to the procedure, though this was in a much more delicate area, to be sure! I had also recovered successfully from my second knee replacement in Decem-
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101 N. West Street, Easton, MD 21601 Cell: 410-924-2432 Office: 410-822-2001 joanwetmore@msn.com 25
Joan Wetmore
A Journey in Pink
all of my paper records to Dr. Lilly, and I picked up my digital records to hand deliver. I marched for ward w ith little emot ion, ma nag ing t he projec t and following the next path on the journey, though overwhelmed by all that had happened in a just a week. Then, astonishingly, the trip continued at a rapid clip. Dr. Lilly’s office scheduled my consult appointment for the Friday after I received the biopsy results ~ from tumor-revealing mammogram to surgeon in a period of just one and a half weeks! Between the biopsy and the surgeon appointment, we took another side trip to “Cancer College.” The term was coined by cancer survivor, actress and author Kris Carr in her book, Cra z y Sex y Cancer Tips. Cancer College describes the overwhelming and challenging research and learning process that newly
fortunate to live in a town with such efficient, effective, excellent, caring and sensitive medical specialists. Dr. Williams detailed the results of the biopsy, but I really couldn’t understand what she was telling me. I wrote it down. I thought about it on my way to my last checkup with Dr. Quimby and called Dr. Williams back, as she had encouraged me to do. I asked her to please repeat what she had told me about the biopsy results and to advise me about my next stop on the journey. I called my husband, John, and daughter, Holly, who were anxious to hear the results. Of course, like me, they had mixed emotions ~ expecting bad news but still shocked by it. We all held our emotions in check to protect Bella, our 10-yearold granddaughter, who had been staying with us in “Camp Easton” on weekdays during the summer, with camps closed by COVID-19 and her parents working. We would plan how to tell her later. I learned that I had a Stage I, poorly differentiated, grade 3 and very abnormal 0.45 cm invasive ductal carcinoma, a new and irregular solid nodule in the right breast. Dr. Alison recommended that I make a consult appointment with Dr. Roberta Lilly, breast surgical oncologist and director of the Clark Comprehensive Breast Center just a few streets away. Dr. Williams also immediately faxed 26
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PRISTINE TOWNHOUSE in Deep Harbour waterfront community. Wingate model with 3 full BRs and 3-1/2 BAs. Sold mostly furnished. Spacious kitchen, SS appliances, Living room with hardwood floors. Large Primary BR suite with tray ceiling and walk in closet. En suite second BR with vaulted ceiling, walk in closet and full BA. Large rear deck and 2 -ar garage. Gated community with pool, marina and Riverwalk. Close to downtown restaurants, shops and marina’s with easy access to Route 50. $225,000.
Waterfront Estates, Farms and Hunting Properties also available.
Kathy Christensen
410-924-4814(C) · 410-822-1415(O ) Benson & Mangold Real Estate 27999 Oxford Road, Oxford, Maryland 21654 kccamb@gmail.com · www.kathychristensen.com
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A Journey in Pink
that I have a 95 percent 5-year survival rate. She presented a treatment plan that included a lumpectomy to remove the tumor and removal of a few nearby lymph nodes in hopes of finding clear margins around the tumor and no cancer cells in the lymph nodes, which would indicate that the cancer had not spread. Surgery would be followed by adjuvant therapy. Four chemotherapy treatments should kill off any leftover roaming cancer cells. Then, up to two months of radiation would target the area where the tumor was removed, just in case any nasty cancer cells remained. This plan was the standard of care developed for my BC, to which had been added the ominous descriptor of “triple negative,� indicating an even higher invasive nature of the tumor.
diagnosed cancer folks embark on to try to better understand the disease, cancer terminology and treatment options. With my insatiable curiosity and my passion for learning, research and writing, undertaking Cancer College was a natural fit. The first step for any project or travel plan is to get organized. I purchased pink folders (the BC pink is explained later), a portfolio, lined tablets and pink pens. I set up folders for each destination on the journey. Next, I conducted research on breast cancer, my cancer and treatment opt ions. Websites for t he American Cancer Society, the National Breast Cancer Foundation and the Susan G. Komen Foundation have helpful information, including questions to ask each specialist. John and I prepared questions, and he took notes during meetings. Dr. Lilly and Nurse Navigator Robin Ford greeted us warmly on June 19 and spent two hours reviewing my cancer and biopsy results. Their recommendations were very encouraging and supportive. Dr. Lilly a lso conducted a physica l examination, another sonagram, ordered more biopsy tests, ordered an MRI and recommended that I have genetic testing for BC, which I agreed to. Dr. Lilly presented an optimistic picture for my outcome and said
Robin Ford 28
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By land or by sea we can show you the best of life on the Chesapeake. Kurt Petzold, Broker
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Brian Petzold
Established 1983 102 North Harrison Street • Easton, Maryland 21601 • 410-820-8008 www.chesapeakebayproperty.com | chesbay@goeaston.net 29
A Journey in Pink
Everyone needs a support group, though that can be difficult during an isolating pandemic. John, my best friend, has been by my side from the beginning, at every doctor’s appointment, test, surgery etc., if allowed during the pandemic safety restrictions. He is a good listener, patient, kind, compassionate, an excellent cook and manages our lives thoughtfully. He is also quite funny. Along with our beloved Golden Retriever, Cooper, my writing and Bella, I have some wonderful distractions. Our daughter, Holly, also my best friend, jumped right on board. She sent us our first bouquet of beautiful flowers, our first casserole and a bright pink tote bag to carry the growing load of BC files. When we learned that chemotherapy would cause me to lose my hair, she researched wig shops and helped me select a lovely wig that looks like my own hair. Though she owns a pediatric occupational therapy (OT) busi-
The pandemic had caused a hold on elective surgeries. The University of Maryland Shore Regional Health Hospital was just opening the surgery schedule, and it was jammed. July 23 was the earliest surgery date available for Dr. Lilly to make the two big cuts. I asked to be put on standby for an earlier surgery date if one became available. I wanted to get rid of that nasty tumor as quickly as possible. Fortunately, they were able to reschedule me for July 9. Note the speed with which our local medical team proceeded: from a June 9 tumor discovery to a lumpectomy just a month later. Miraculous! I learned much during the journey to surgery, including that my BC was one of the most common and was not genetically based. There was no known reason for it ~ good news for my family. From Robin, I received two small pillows in a pink tote bag to provide comfort after surgery under car seatbelts and while sleeping at night, as well as two light, humorous books about cancer: Cancer Has Its Privileges, Stories of Hope and Laughter by Christine Clifford and Chicken Soup for the Soul, Breast Cancer, both of which I recommend. Robin has also always gone above and beyond to answer my telephone calls and emails with sensitivity and caring. I formed my BC support group from my family and close friends. 30
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A Journey in Pink
about surgery and chemotherapy. She is strongly encouraging. Linda Meade, also a BC survivor, shared her surgery and radiation experiences with me and is always available through all means possible for support and inspiration. Fran Tettlebaum, who has experience with cancer in her family, has always been there for me for anything and everything. She is so kind and caring. She checks on me before and after every procedure and distance visits. Our neighbors the Connollys, Careys and Dalrymples have kept our spirits high throughout the pandemic and my BC diagnosis with safely distant outside gatherings in our backyards, calls, emails, texts, cards, flowers and meals. Rita Connolly even made a delicious batch of
ness and is an OT practitioner, she readily received my frequent calls in the early days of my BC shock, confusion and sadness. In my g roup of t hree closest friends, there are, unbelievably, two breast cancer survivors and one with cancers in the family. Ann Musser is a BC survivor whose husband, Bob, wrote a marvelous book, The Pink Primer, for Partners in Need of Koaching. I reread the book, and John and Holly both read Bob’s welcome and humorous tips on how to get through the BC journey. Ann was always available by phone, text and email and with distanced visits to answer questions
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A Journey in Pink
cancer, that two gals that I currently train with are in treatment for cancer, and a third had BC cancer a few years back. Now we exchange information about our treatment programs and encourage each other as we proceed on our journeys. I am back on Zoom for class, per doctors’ orders, to avoid virus exposure and always look forward to seeing my friends and fellow cancer travelers on camera. Family and friends have sent cards and email well-wishes, flowers and other gifts, showering us with love, comfort and joy. My book club buddies continue to cheer me on. We feel like we are surrounded by warm hugs, even though no one can hug these days. We try to send the hugs and love back to those that we know need inspiration and caring. The surgery was a success. The two incisions have healed nicely. And, though a second noninvasive tumor was found around the first, the margins were free of cancer cells and the lymph nodes had no additional cancer present. John and I were so relieved and tried to smile under our masks as Dr. Lilly and Robin gave us the good news. Dr. Lilly, her staff and the hospital staff were efficient, kind and supportive. After a brief recuperation, Dr. Lilly sent me to Jen Pierson, an occupational therapist who specializes in lymphedema, a swelling of the arm that can occur after BC-related lymph node surgery due to lymph blockages. Jen assured me that be-
ginger cookies for my queasy stomach during treatment and shared a scrumptious pot pie and visits. Our neighbors the Haddaways have done the same, joining us for porch chats and continuously bringing us delicious dinners, so meal planning is easier. Socialization really lifts the spirits during these isolating times, and we are so grateful to be able to see them all. We hope that everyone can safely share their time and caring with neighbors who need help or a lift. My dear friends at the YMCA @ Washington Street, the Floor, Core and More Class, have been my lifeline to health for more than fourteen years. Wendy Palmer, the associate executive director and our class instructor, wonderfully began providing ZOOM classes when gyms were closed due to COVID-19. When the Y classes resumed, distanced indoors, and I reconnected with my friends, I shared my BC diagnosis with classmates and was reminded that, incredibly, at least half of our class of 15–20 gals had experienced some form of
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A Journey in Pink
friends and T-shirts for my immediate family unit. When we visited Holly, Randy and Bella on Labor Day weekend, we all agreed to wear our BC paraphernalia and a neighbor, Heather, would take our photo. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to see what occurred when we all walked outside for a photo shoot. Holly had arranged a “Drive-by for the Cure.” Family and friends drove by Holly’s house three times, tooting car horns and shouting, waving posters and blowing kisses to support my fight for the cure. On the last round, they stopped so that I could tearfully blow kisses and thank them for spending their afternoon cheering us on. We were surrounded by the love of Randy’s mother, Anna; his brother, Kenny, and wife, Toni; his sister Annice; sister Staci and friend Mike; nephew Ron and friend Enise; good friends Joan and Bob; and “second daughters” Heather and Chris. I was amazed and grateful. Oh, the love that keeps you going. This part of my Journey in Pink ends on the positive note of a successful BC surgery and a huge outpouring of healing love that continued with the next part of the journey ~ chemotherapy and associated hair loss ~ all a part of seeking the cure.
cause I am healthy and fit, I was not a candidate for the disease and that I could continue my fitness program. Worried about how to tell Bella about my diagnosis without upsetting her too much, I shared my plan with Holly and received her approval. How much to tell children is a challenging question. They need to be told as much as they can handle because you can’t hide it from them. They will know something is up. Before surgery, I explained to Bella that all of us have illnesses over the years and need to see doctors, have surgeries, therapy, etc. I cited Bella’s recent tooth extractions and that her grandfather and I both had knee replacements and physical therapy. That led to a discussion about my BC surgery and that I would be okay after all the treatments. I explained that I wouldn’t feel well sometimes and that I would lose my hair and needed her help with my wig selection. She was on board, worried but understanding and supportive. I hope that this discussion might help others with the difficult task. So, what about the pink aspect of BC? The pink ribbon is the international symbol of BC awareness. Pink ribbons, and the color pink specifically, are considered feminine and identify the wearer with BC and express support for women with BC and BC survivors. I ordered pink bracelets and pins for family and
Bonna L. Nelson is a Bay-area writer, columnist, photographer and world traveler. She resides in Easton with her husband, John. 38
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Bringing Light into the New Year by Michael Valliant
I would leave my Christmas tree up through March if it wouldn’t be a crunchy fire hazard by then. There is something about the lights and shine of a tree that seems more important for the dark months of January and February than it does for the over-busy build-up to Christmas. Now is when we need the light. So, how do we create and share light in the darkest months? If I ever get a fake Christmas tree, my first decree will be that it doesn’t come down until spring. But besides keeping on the actual lights, there are other ways to emulate Motel Six’s Tom Bodett and leave the light on. In a recent sermon looking at the prologue to John’s Gospel, Fr. Bill Ortt linked three words: light, life, and love, which are connected in the illumination of our hearts, minds and souls. We can find light from others. When it comes to reading, not even time and space can limit us. “Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one’s hand,” wrote poet Ezra Pound. And maybe he was on to something for the winter months: make time to read. It gets dark early, it’s cold. Use the time to
be transported. Read the books that light up your heart and soul; books that make you come alive. Some books can even give us a roadmap through the dark. The Greatest Salesman in the World is an odd little book by Og Mandino. He tells the story of a poor camel boy who comes to live a life of abundance. He uncovers scrolls in a cave that contain keys
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TIDE TABLE
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1. Fri. 4:48 5:26 2.. Sat. 5:34 6:10 3. Sun. 6:23 6:55 4. Mon. 7:17 7:43 5. Tues. 8:15 8:32 6. Wed. 9:17 9:24 7. Thurs. 10:22 10:18 8. Fri. 11:26 11:15 9. Sat. 12:28 10. Sun. 12:14 1:27 11. Mon. 1:13 2:23 12. Tues. 2:10 3:17 13. Wed. 3:04 4:08 14. Thurs. 3:56 4:56 15. Fri. 4:46 5:42 16. Sat. 5:36 6:26 17. Sun. 6:27 7:07 18. Mon. 7:29 7:47 19. Tues. 8:15 8:26 20. Wed. 9:14 9:07 21. Thurs. 10:14 9:52 22. Fri. 11:12 10:41 23. Sat. 12:07p.m. 11:34 24. Sun. 12:56 25. Mon. 12:29 1:40 26. Tues. 1:21 2:23 27. Wed. 2:10 3:03 28. Thurs. 2:56 3:44 29. Fri. 3:41 4:26 30. Sat. 4:26 5:07 31. Sun. 5:13 5:50
AM
LOW PM
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Easton Map and History The County Seat of Talbot Count y. Established around early religious settlements and a court of law, Histor ic Dow ntow n Easton is today a centerpiece of fine specialt y shops, business and cultural activ ities, unique restaurants, and architectural fascination. Treel i ne d s t r e e t s a r e graced with various per iod str uctures and remarkable home s , c a r e f u l l y preser ved or re stored. Because of its histor ic a l significance, historic Easton has earned distinction as the “C olon ia l C apitol of the Eastern Shore” and was honored as number eight in the book “The 100 Best Small Towns in America.” With a population of over 16,500, Easton offers the best of many worlds including access to large metropolitan areas like Baltimore, Annapolis, Washington, and Wilmington. For a walking tour and more history visit https:// tidewatertimes.com/travel-tourism/easton-maryland/. © John Norton
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Bringing Light
help us navigate or make the most of whatever situation we find ourselves in. In his book Love Is the Way, Michael Curry, presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, talks about how his grandmother
to living. And they serve as easy reminders for us, the readers, reading over the narrator’s shoulder. I wouldn’t call it one of the world’s great books, more along the lines of Cliff Notes to living. It is a book that helped me get through a dark winter a number of years ago. Mandino writes: “I will greet this day with love in my heart... Henceforth will I look on all things with love and I will be born again. I will love the sun for it warms my bones; yet I will love the rain for it cleanses my spirit. I will love the light for it shows me the way; yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars. I will welcome happiness for it enlarges my heart; yet I will endure sadness for it opens my soul. I will acknowledge rewards for they are my due; yet I will welcome obstacles for they are my challenge. I will greet this day with love in my heart.” Reading allows us to temporarily escape the darkness. It can also open us up to perspectives that
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Bringing Light
his shoes; The rest sit around and pluck blackberries.
could take food and ingredients that many people would pass by and, in preparing soul food, would create something transcendent. He calls it “making do.” “They took what was leftover and made sure no one was left out,” Curry writes. “They took foods that were put down and cast out by others and lifted the hungry up. That’s a miracle. That’s taking what is old and making something new. That’s making do!... (it’s about) taking what is old, what is given, what is, and making something new. It’s about taking an old reality and creating a new possibility.” Taking common, everyday reality, which we can be so quick to walk by and not live fully into and giving it new life. With the right perspective, everything we encounter can take on new life. Curry uses the example of Moses and the burning bush in the Bible. Moses encounters God in the bush that burns but is not consumed. And, in paying respect, Moses removes his shoes. If we look with new eyes, we can have these experiences all the time. Curry cites Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poem “Aurora Leigh,” in which she writes:
Every common bush is afire with God. Base and humble-sounding ingredients can create amazing dishes; and even in the darkness, we can still see light. And we have another means of getting through darker months and darker times: remembering that we have been here before. When the sun sets and it gets dark, we know that the sun will rise again soon. We can do something more with that knowledge and experience. We
Earth’s crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees it, takes off 48
else ~ that shows us our light. That connects us through love. “Without your wound where would your power be? It is your very remorse that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men… In Love’s service only the wounded soldiers can serve.”
can help others get through it. And it is exactly our experience of darker and lower times that is valuable to others who are going through it. This is where our light becomes love and can change lives. In his book Abba’s Child: The Cry of the Heart for Intimate Belonging, Brennan Manning ties it altogether. “In a futile attempt to erase our past, we deprive the community of our healing gift,” he wrote. “If we conceal our wounds out of fear and shame, our inner darkness can neither be illuminated nor become a light for others.” When we are going through the dark winter of the year, remembering that it is going through those times that connects us to everyone
Michael Valliant is the Assistant for Adult Education and Newcomers Ministry at Christ Church Easton. He has worked for non-profit organizations throughout Talbot County, including the Oxford Community Center, Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum and Academy Art Museum.
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Easton’s Potter’s Field by James Dawson One historic site of Talbot County that I’ll bet you’ve never heard of is Easton’s Potter’s Field, as it is doubtful that a cemetery for paupers and criminals would ever make it onto lists of Things To See And Do in Historic Talbot County. Nevertheless, the Good Old Days weren’t always so good, and many places had a Potter’s Field, even Colonial Williamsburg. But first, why is a cemetery for paupers called a Potter’s Field? The first use of the term Potter’s Field is
in William Tyndale’s 1526 translation of the Bible for Matthew 27:5 of a “potter’s field to bury strangers in,” but that actually meant a field ow ned by a pot ter. Or someone named Potter. Or maybe even a potter named Potter. A Potter who was a potter. However, by the 1700s, it came to mean any field used for the burial of paupers, as potters were often thought to be poor. On Feb. 28, 1843, the General Assembly of Maryland passed a bill authorizing the commissioners of
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real gallows that could be a whole other story in itself. It wasn’t a permanent gallows, but only erected when needed. In 1875, it was near Frank G. Wrights’s race course on Point Road. Sadly, the hangings of convicted criminals were public events then, and, however barbarous that seems to us now, were perfectly normal then. The hanged criminals were often buried in Potter’s Field. W hen Freder ick L aw rence, a black man, was tried and convicted for the murder of his wife on Oct. 2, 1870 and sentenced to death, his hanging was witnessed by an estimated 5,000 people. It was an interracial event. “Whites and blacks freely mingled and commingled,” as
the town of Easton to accept from the heirs of John Goldsborough, deceased, a deed for the sale of a lot of ground for “the use and purpose of a common bur ying-ground or Potter’s field…” I had found scattered references to Easton’s Potter’s Field over the years, but no precise location other t han t hat it was somewhere on Glebe Road. Talbot County, like every county in the state, not only had their own Potter’s Fields for the burial of paupers and criminals, but a gallows for the hangings of the criminals, too. This was not the so-called hanging tree on Miles River Road, but a
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Potter's Field
a lot in Spring Hill Cemetery for the “burial of strangers” and no longer used Potter’s Field, which had grown up in briars and bushes and had become unsightly and a nuisance to the surrounding neighborhood. On March 3, the Maryland Legislature granted Easton permission to sell Potter’s Field, provided “the said Town to make proper provision for the removal of any bodies buried therein to some better and more suitable location.” But, if they tried to sell it, no one wanted to buy it. However, the public kept using it sometimes, and one might expect that it saw some burials during the Spanish Inf luenza epidemic of 1918 to 1920, which killed hundreds in Talbot County. By the 1940s, the condition of Potter’s Field had deteriorated badly. An eloquent editorial titled “Talbot’s Disgrace” in the Aug. 5, 1949
the paper put it. The execution was a big deal because it was Talbot’s first hanging since 1837 and merited a long, detailed article in the Easton Star Democrat. Sheriff Bennett had even taken the precaution of closing the bars and liquor stores to prevent a breach of the peace. Consequently, no one was drunk, and perfect decorum prevailed through the day. After Lawrence declared his innocence and blamed the cause of the murder on a former friend, he forgave everyone and bade them farewell. The trap was sprung and the body was taken down, placed in a coffin precisely at 12 noon and taken away by his friends for burial. The day before, Lawrence “had sent for Wm. Lew is (col’d), and requested him to dig his grave and bury him in Potter’s Field; to plant a cedar post at each end of his grave; and to plant a willow tree on his grave, so that the people who should visit it hereafter might say, ‘here is the grave of Frederick Lawrence, the murderer, and be warned against the commission of crime’” [Easton Star Democrat July 18, 1871]. Potter’s Field was used for some years. It is probable that most of the graves were either unmarked, marked with field stones or only had wooden markers that have long since rotted away. By 1916, the Town had purchased 54
Easton Star Democrat detailed the unpleasant conditions there: “…w he n hu m a n b e i ng s w e r e buried in the Talbot County Free Cemetery with less decency and regard for public health than someone would display burying a pet dog… “Bodies were being interred there in such a slipshod manner that the odor at times is overwhelming. “Residents of this northern area of Easton have been complaining of this situation over a period of five years; first to the County Health Depar tment then to the Count y Commissioners. One has placed responsibility on the other and in five years nothing has been done to correct conditions. The responsibility lies with the county.
“ Two years ago t he f ield was scraped of weeds, underbrush and protruding bones. Since that time the weeds have not been cut a single time. The majority of them now stand higher than a man’s head. “This past winter the body of an infant was buried by a couple and no one knows who or why but the couple was seen by residents with the tiny bundle digging in the field… “The bodies of other children have been ‘buried’ by digging a shallow trough and piling dirt on top. “Nobody knows how many people are buried in Potter’s Field, or where they are buried because no records are kept and there is no plat of the land. “Coffins have been buried practi-
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for more than three hours. It was finally reburied Saturday evening. By Sunday morning the odor became apparent again and upon examination it was found that the second burial had placed the box even with the ground. At no point did more than five inches of dirt cover the so-called ‘coffin,’ the marking ‘this end up-No hooks’ upon the end of which, and its plywood construction gave rise to the speculation that it formerly contained either a refrigerator or a radio. “We are among those who believe t hat in A mer ic a t he wor t h a nd dignity of the human person is not measured by his bank account but rather by his membership in the human race. Most of the occupants
cally level with the ground and dirt piled on top. Five years ago a nearby resident found his son poking a stick under the lid of an exposed coffin to look inside… “A situation which developed last week was perhaps the worst to date. “On Friday morning a narrow path was cut through the weeds and the body of a man was buried some 25 feet back from the road. The grave was so shallow and the temperature so high that residents soon complained to the County Health Department and to the Sheriff. On Saturday, the body was removed and for no valid reason was left standing beside the open grave in the hot sun
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strings, because in December a law was passed by the State Legislature requiring counties to deliver bodies to the morgue in Baltimore. After embalming and a 48-hour waiting period, they would be turned over to the State A natomy Board for eventual distribution to medical centers in the state. In practice, however, they were held for about three years in case someone came to claim them. And so, finally, that was the end of Potter’s Field. But not quite. By now, no one was sure who owned it, and there was an ongoing dispute between Easton and Talbot County about which one owned it, apparently because of the nuisance of having to do the maintenance on the now obsolete cemetery. Neither wanted it, and each was hoping that it belonged to the other side. To fur ther complicate things, it
of Potter’s Field have been useful citizens in their lifetime and as such contributed their share to the common good. It was their misfortune to die penniless, without family. We cannot concede that the worst human being alive is not entitled to a decent, civilized burial. We believe the people of Talbot county will agree� [Easton Star Democrat Aug. 5, 1949]. The paper also said that Raymond Wood a nd about a dozen ot her Glebe Road residents met with the county commissioners to complain about the condition of the place. Dr. Louis Welty, county health officer, suggested that it should be moved to some other location, apparently unaware that the town and county has stopped using it years ago. Somebody must have pulled some
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wasn’t even in the town limits then and had certainly been used by the county. The sit uat ion wa s f ina l ly re solved in 1958 when Town Attorney
Clark Ewing found the deed. And, as Ewing pointed out, there was no reverter clause in the deed that the land would return to the original owners if it was no longer used for
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that purpose, so no luck for the town there. But where, exactly, was Potter’s Field? Using clues in old newspaper articles and some historical sleuthing, I finally located it as a 2.8-acre narrow strip of land about 100 feet wide on Glebe Road running behind and parallel to the Easton Plaza Shopping Center, next to the V.F.W. property. And, much to my surprise, it had not been paved over or built on. The sign on a nearby dumpster warned “NO PUBLIC DUMPING $500 FINE,” so I did not expect to see any protr uding bones or exposed coffins. Too bad that sign wasn’t there 70 years ago. It is nicely maintained now by the Town of Easton, and the trees on it give it the appearance of a little park. Nothing is to be seen of Lawrence’s willow tree or cedar posts. Or any thing else. In fact, when I v isited it recently, two women from the Amish Country Farmer’s Market were sitting at a picnic table there enjoying the day, completely unaware of what might lie beneath. Addendum: I just happened to look at the 7th edition of the ADC map of Talbot County to see it on the map and in the index as Pooter’s Field [sic]. Such is fame. James Dawson is the owner of Unicorn Bookshop in Trappe. 60
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Soup’s On Soup is the easiest way to warm up your kitchen and feed yourself and your family, all in one delicious and healthy bowl. But you don’t need a recipe to make it ~ especially if you have odds and ends of vegetables in your crisper. Nearly any vegetable can be turned into soup, and if you have broth in your cupboard, you’re all set. The essentials are vegetables, stock, olive oil or butter and salt and pepper. I usually add some onion, garlic or leeks and fresh herbs. You can also f lavor the soup with curry powder or cumin. If you like, you can add a splash of wine to the stock. Once the soup is made, there are so many ways to make it more f lavorful: adding a can of diced tomatoes, a can of white beans, Parmesan cheese, cream, milk or any nondairy milk and seasonings to taste. Since it takes only a little more time, it makes sense to make large batches of soup or broth and freeze what you don’t need. When vegeta-
bles are in season, don’t let them go to waste. Prepare plenty of asparagus, broccoli, carrot, squash or potato soup and fill your freezer for winter. To make soup from frozen vegetables, puree the vegetables with twice as much all-purpose broth (chicken, beef or fish, etc.). If you like, add cream, milk or any favorite nondairy ingredient, such as coconut milk, and seasonings to taste. When you puree the soup, you will 63
Tidewater Kitchen
and freeze. The bags can then be removed from the pan and stored in the freezer. Thaw for 8–12 hours per pint in the refrigerator, 1–2 hours at room temperature or 8–10 minutes in the microwave on the defrost setting.
be surprised at how creamy it can be with no dairy at all. Soups freeze well for up to 6 months. Make sure they have been degreased and well chilled, then place in plastic containers or plastic bags, leaving 1 inch of space at the top. Place the filled bags f lat on a large shallow roasting pan
VEGETABLE STOCK Although it lacks the intensity and quality of broth made from chicken or beef bones, this stock adds fresh f lavor to other preparations. It can be used as a substitute for chicken or beef stock in recipes for pureed or cream soups or as the cooking liquid in any full-meal soup or stew. This is a great foundation for those who follow a vegetarian diet.
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of root end. Soak in cold water for several minutes. Separate leaves under running water to rinse away any clinging grit. Chop leeks across width into ½-inch pieces. Heat oil in a 6-quart stockpot over medium heat. Add leeks, onions and garlic. Stir to coat with oil and cook for about 5 minutes. Add remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Skim impurities from the surface and reduce to low. Cook for 30 minutes, then strain the stock ingredients through a fine-mesh strainer into a 3-quart bowl. Discard vegetables. Stock can be stored in the refrigerator in a covered container for up to 5 days or frozen in an airtight container up to 1 month.
2 leeks 2 T. expeller-pressed vegetable oil 2 yellow onions, peeled and chopped into ½-inch pieces 9 small garlic cloves 2 carrots, peeled and cut into 1/2inch rounds 1 parsnip, peeled and cut into 1/2inch rounds 3 small potatoes, quartered 2 stalks celery, cut into ½-inch slices 1/2 pound mushrooms, halved 1 t. thyme 1 bay leaf 1 t. dried oregano 4 sprigs parsley 10 cups cold water 2 t. kosher salt 1/2 t. pepper 2 T. miso (bean/soybean paste)
CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP 4 pounds chicken pieces 3 quarts water 2 t. kosher salt 1 large pinch saffron thread 1 large onion, peeled and quartered 2 c. carrots, thinly sliced, diced or julienned 2 c. fine egg noodles
Clean leeks by cutting off the hairy root ends and removing and discarding the coarse outer leaves. Discard green tops and split the remaining stalk lengthwise, cutting from leafy end to within 1 inch
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Add the carrots to the broth, bring to a simmer and cook, uncovered, until tender, 10–15 minutes. Add the noodles and cook according to package directions until just tender. Meanwhile, shred or cut the chicken meat into large, bitesize pieces and discard the skin and bones. Add the chicken to the soup. Cook for an additional 5 minutes, season with salt and pepper and serve. Tip: Use salted boiling water instead of cold water to jump-start the cooking process.
Rinse the chicken pieces and trim any excess fat. Place the chicken in a large soup pot and cover with water. Stir in the salt, saffron and onion and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Adjust the heat to prevent the broth from boiling. Continue to simmer, skimming off any foam that rises to the surface, until the broth is a rich golden color and the chicken is cooked through, 30–40 minutes. Using a large slotted spoon, remove the chicken and onion pieces and set them aside until cool enough to handle. Discard the onion. Strain the broth through a fine mesh sieve or a cheeseclothlined colander into another large saucepan.
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ern beans and cook for another 10 minutes. SQUASH SOUP Serves 8 This is a good make-ahead choice, as the f lavor actually improves after a day of chilling. It can be served hot or cold. 3 T. butter or olive oil 2 medium onions, sliced 2 garlic cloves, minced 1 t. thyme 4 c. yellow squash 4 c. zucchini 2 (10.5 oz.) cans chicken broth 2 cans water (if you don’t use Campbell’s broth, use 4 cups of
In a heavy saucepan, combine: 1 stalk celery, chopped 1 medium onion, chopped 2 carrots, chopped 1 t. fresh thyme 2 bay leaves 1/8 t. ground cloves 1/4 t. freshly ground pepper 1/2 t. salt 4 c. chicken broth Bring to a boil, then turn to low and cook until vegetables are tender (about 20 minutes). Then add: 1 can (15.5 oz.) petite diced tomatoes 3 cloves garlic, minced 1 T. parsley, chopped 2 legs and 2 thighs of chicken or a large breast of chicken (I used leftover cooked chicken and added it when I added the canned beans.) 3 links of savory sausage (not breakfast), cut into 2-inch pieces Cover and cook over low heat for 45 minutes. Add 2 cans (15.5 oz.) great north68
chicken broth and no water) 1/4 t. freshly ground pepper 1/2–1 c. half-and-half (optional) Chopped fresh parsley
3 c. whole milk, warm 1 t. white pepper 1 T. tomato paste 1 c. heavy whipping cream 8 oz. lump crabmeat 8 oz. fresh shrimp, peeled and deveined 8 oz. bay scallops 3 T. dry sherry Salt to taste
Heat the butter or oil in a Dutch oven without letting it brown, then add the onions and garlic and sauté for a few minutes without browning them. Add the thyme, zucchini and squash, and combine well. Add the chicken broth and water, bring to a boil and simmer for 20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Cool the soup and process in a blender until smooth. Serve hot or cold; garnish with chopped parsley. To serve hot, return the squash mixture to the Dutch oven; stir in half-and-half and pepper. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until well heated. Garnish with parsley.
Melt 2 T. butter in a large Dutch oven or saucepan over medium-low heat; add the chopped green onion and celery. Sauté, stirring, until onion and celery are translucent. Add the f lour to the butter and vegetables and stir until f lour is well incorporated. Continue stirring for about 2 minutes.
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Slowly stir in the warmed milk and continue stirring until thickened. Add the white pepper, tomato paste and heavy cream, then stir in the crab, shrimp, scallops and sherry. Simmer for 2–3 minutes, until scallops are white and shrimp is just pink. Remove soup from heat and let cool to room temperature. In batches, add soup to a blender and pulse on low speed for 10–20 seconds. There should still be bits of seafood visible. Return soup to saucepan, add 2 T. butter and simmer. Add salt to taste. Serve hot with crusty bread. Note: You can substitute your
BRUNSWICK STEW Serves 8 4 T. bacon drippings or olive oil 1 large sweet onion, finely chopped (about 1 ½ cups) 3 cloves garlic, minced 2 (15 oz.) cans fire-roasted tomatoes, undrained 4 c. chicken stock 1/2 c. hickory-f lavored barbecue sauce 2 T. Worcestershire sauce 2 T. dark brown sugar 1/4 t. cayenne pepper 1 lb. smoked pulled pork
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until soft, about 5 minutes. Stir in the garlic and cook for 1–2 minutes; do not let garlic burn. Stir in the tomatoes and their juice, chicken stock, barbecue sauce, Worcestershire, brown sugar, cayenne, pork, chicken, corn, lima beans, salt and pepper. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook over medium-low heat for 2 hours, stirring occasionally. Serve with your favorite cornbread or saltines.
1 lb. roasted chicken breast, shredded 1 c. frozen white or yellow corn 1 c. frozen lima beans 1 t. kosher salt 2 t. freshly ground black pepper
SOUTHWESTERN THREE BEAN SOUP 1 T. extra-virgin olive oil 1 large onion, diced 1 large stalk celery, diced 1 large carrot, diced
Add bacon drippings or oil to a large Dutch oven over mediumhigh heat. Add the onion and sauté
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1 T. chili powder 1 t. cumin 1/3 c. fresh cilantro 3/4 t. salt Heat oil in a Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion, celery and carrot and cook for about 5 minutes. Add broth and barley; cook barley according to package directions. Add beans, chili powder, cumin and cilantro, and heat thoroughly. Season with salt. VEGETABLE SOUP If you save the liquid from vegetables you cook ~ either in a quart jar in the refrigerator or in a plastic container in the freezer ~ your soup will be even better!
4 c. (32-ounce carton) chicken broth 1/2 c. pearl barley 2 cans black beans, rinsed 2 cans great northern beans, rinsed 2 cans kidney beans, rinsed
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1 large bag of frozen mixed vegetables 1 c. frozen okra 2 (15 oz.) cans or 1 large can diced tomatoes 2 large potatoes, diced The browned meat 2 T. chopped parsley 2 T. thyme (2 t. if dry) 1 T. chopped oregano (1 t. if dry) Salt and pepper to taste
Place in a large kettle: 3 T. olive oil Sauté in the oil: 1 lb. stew beef (cut into smaller bite-size pieces) or very lean organic hamburger until brown Remove the meat to a separate dish and add enough olive oil to coat bottom of pan. Sauté for about 5 minutes: 1 carrot, diced 1 large onion, diced 3 stalks celery, diced 1 green pepper, diced
Cover and cook for about 35 minutes, then add: ¼–½ head of cabbage, chopped l can kidney beans 1 can butter beans 1 can navy beans (optional)
Add: 2 cans Campbell’s beef broth 2 cans water
Simmer until all vegetables are thoroughly cooked. Enjoy for several days! Note: Sometimes I cook ¼ cup barley separately and add that. Adjust the spices to your taste. The f lavor is a bit different every time I make this, but it is always hearty and healthy! A longtime resident of Oxford, Pamela Meredith, formerly Denver’s NBC Channel 9 Children’s Chef, now teaches both adult and children’s cooking classes on the south shore of Massachusetts. For more of Pam’s recipes, visit the Story Archive tab at tidewatertimes.com. 74
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WINTER WONDERS Explore Martinak or Tuckahoe State Parks on a peaceful walk in the woods, or meander through the meadow at Adkins Arboretum. Warm up with a piping cup of coffee or a hot toddy and check out our shops and galleries. We’re open for you, if you’re
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Caroline County – A Perspective Caroline County is the very definition of a rural community. For more than 300 years, the county’s economy has been based on “market” agriculture. Caroline County was created in 1773 from Dorchester and Queen Anne’s counties. The county was named for Lady Caroline Eden, the wife of Maryland’s last colonial governor, Robert Eden (1741-1784). Denton, the county seat, was situated on a point between two ferry boat landings. Much of the business district in Denton was wiped out by the fire of 1863. Following the Civil War, Denton’s location about fifty miles up the Choptank River from the Chesapeake Bay enabled it to become an important shipping point for agricultural products. Denton became a regular port-ofcall for Baltimore-based steamer lines in the latter half of the 19th century. Preston was the site of three Underground Railroad stations during the 1840s and 1850s. One of those stations was operated by Harriet Tubman’s parents, Benjamin and Harriet Ross. When Tubman’s parents were exposed by a traitor, she smuggled them to safety in Wilmington, Delaware. Linchester Mill, just east of Preston, can be traced back to 1681, and possibly as early as 1670. The mill is the last of 26 water-powered mills to operate in Caroline County and is currently being restored. The long-term goals include rebuilding the millpond, rehabilitating the mill equipment, restoring the miller’s dwelling, and opening the historic mill on a scheduled basis. Federalsburg is located on Marshyhope Creek in the southern-most part of Caroline County. Agriculture is still a major portion of the industry in the area; however, Federalsburg is rapidly being discovered and there is a noticeable influx of people, expansion and development. Ridgely has found a niche as the “Strawberry Capital of the World.” The present streetscape, lined with stately Victorian homes, reflects the transient prosperity during the countywide canning boom (1895-1919). Hanover Foods, formerly an enterprise of Saulsbury Bros. Inc., for more than 100 years, is the last of more than 250 food processors that once operated in the Caroline County region. Points of interest in Caroline County include the Museum of Rural Life in Denton, Adkins Arboretum near Ridgely, and the Mason-Dixon Crown Stone in Marydel. To contact the Caroline County Office of Tourism, call 410-479-0655 or visit their website at www.tourcaroline.com. 77
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Queen Anne’s County The history of Queen Anne’s County dates back to the earliest Colonial settlements in Maryland. Small hamlets began appearing in the northern portion of the county in the 1600s. Early communities grew up around transportation routes, the rivers and streams, and then roads and eventually railroads. Small towns were centers of economic and social activity and evolved over the years from thriving centers of tobacco trade to communities boosted by the railroad boom. Queenstown was the original county seat when Queen Anne’s County was created in 1706, but that designation was passed on to Centreville in 1782. It’s location was important during the 18th century, because it is near a creek that, during that time, could be navigated by tradesmen. A hub for shipping and receiving, Queenstown was attacked by English troops during the War of 1812. Construction of the Federal-style courthouse in Centreville began in 1791 and is the oldest courthouse in continuous use in the state of Maryland. Today, Centreville is the largest town in Queen Anne’s County. With its relaxed lifestyle and tree-lined streets, it is a classic example of small town America. The Stevensville Historic District, also known as Historic Stevensville, is a national historic district in downtown Stevensville, Queen Anne’s County. It contains roughly 100 historic structures, and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It is located primarily along East Main Street, a portion of Love Point Road, and a former section of Cockey Lane. The Chesapeake Heritage and Visitor Center in Chester at Kent Narrows provides and overview of the Chesapeake region’s heritage, resources and culture. The Chesapeake Heritage and Visitor Center serves as Queen Anne’s County’s official welcome center. Queen Anne’s County is also home to the Chesapeake Bay Environmental Center (formerly Horsehead Wetland Center), located in Grasonville. The CBEC is a 500-acre preserve just 15 minutes from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. Over 200 species of birds have been recorded in the area. Embraced by miles of scenic Chesapeake Bay waterways and graced with acres of pastoral rural landscape, Queen Anne’s County offers a relaxing environment for visitors and locals alike. For more information about Queen Anne’s County, visit www.qac.org. 79
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TIDEWATER GARDENING
by K. Marc Teffeau, Ph.D.
Inside Houseplant Care for 2021 turn indoors to our houseplants and their care. Don’t fertilize houseplants a lot during winter. They don’t need it. Because your plants tend to grow less during winter, they “eat” less. Feed them only when they are making visible growth. As they perk up in late winter (February), gradually increase
Well, we have entered 2021. What will this new year bring? Hopefully not all the challenges we faced in 2020. Moving into the new year, however, it is encouraging to know that some things, like basic horticultural practices, do not change. Take houseplant care, for example. During the winter, our interests
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room, den, or family room where a wood stove is located and used. If your plant’s leaves turn yellow and drop from the bottom toward the top, it may be suffering from overwatering, the number-
their food supply. Any houseplant fertilizer will do, but be sure to use it according to the manufacturer’s directions. Excessive fertilization can result in salt buildup in the soil that may cause root problems. If you are growing plants in clay pots, excessive salts will show up as a white deposit on the outside of the pot. Also, watch your watering. Depending on your plant’s location in the house, it may require differing watering practices depending on the environmental conditions it is exposed to. If the plant in question is growing in a cool, north-facing room, it will need less water than in a living
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Tidewater Gardening one cause of death in houseplants. Sometimes, this condition results from overwatering because the plant is sitting in too large a pot. In this case, excess soil around the roots holds too much water, leading to low oxygen levels and root rot. To avoid this problem, never put a plant into a pot more than 1 to 2 inches wider than the root ball. Wilting can be caused by too much water, too little water, or over-fertilization. Leaves with brown edges may be a sign of chronic underwatering or periodic episodes of severe drying out. Some of us will have received gift plants for Christmas, ranging from
the traditional poinsettia to more exotic types such as cyclamen and Christmas cactus. Your green holiday plants can continue to provide good cheer well into the new year, provided you give them the proper care and attention. You need to remember that Christmas plants have been grown under ideal conditions in greenhouses. Although we cannot duplicate these conditions in the average home, we can still provide for the basic needs of the plants. The atmosphere in the average home is usually hot and dry, especially if you have a woodstove or forced air heat. This dryness can shorten the life of your plant unless extra humidity is provided. It isn’t easy to increase the humidity in the house, but there are a few tricks you can try. Grouping your plants together helps to raise humidity, 84
good location, but be careful that the foliage doesn’t touch the cold windowpane and get frostbitten. Remember that flowering plants require the highest light exposure. When natural light is lacking, you may have to provide more from artificial sources. We like to keep our homes warm and cozy during the wintertime, but sometimes it’s a bit too much for indoor plants. Most do well at normal room temperatures (68–72 degrees F) during the day but like it about 10 degrees cooler at night. During the 1970s energy crisis, everybody turned their thermostats down and the houseplants did a whole lot better. Be sure to avoid placing the plants close to heat registers, fire-
along with frequent misting with a spray bottle or setting plants on water-filled pebble trays. You may have higher humidity in the kitchen and bathroom. Proper watering remains a must throughout the winter. As a general rule, though, you’ll need to water less than in summer because of normally lower room temperatures, less light and slower plant growth. Remember not to water on a schedule but on an asneeded basis. Your plant should receive plenty of light. Light is always a critical factor for houseplants, but especially so during the low light levels in the winter months. Be aware of each plant’s light needs, and provide accordingly. A sunny windowsill is a
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expected to be “revived” once their blooms have fallen. The Christmas begonia, cyclamen, azalea, Christmas pepper and Jerusalem cherry should be discarded after the blossoms or fruit drop. Remember that the fruit of the Jerusalem cherry is poisonous. Its miniature tomatolike fruit might provide inviting to younger children, so keep it away from children and pets. Three plants that can be kept after the holidays are the Christ-
places and woodstoves, and make sure they are not exposed to drafts from around windows, doors or heating vents. Once you decide on a suitable location for a plant, keep it there. Moving it around forces it to readjust to its new environment. Dropping flowers or leaves is usually the first sign of readjustment. While some Christmas gift plants require special care, others can’t be
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Don’t be upset if all the leaves yellow and drop. The plant needs to go through a resting period. In mid-April, prune the stems back to a 6- or 8-inch length, leaving only 2 or 3 nodes or joints per stem. Water the plant regularly and place it in a sunny window. When all danger of frost is past, repot your poinsettia in a clay pot, using a quality bagged soil for houseplants, and then plunge the pot into the ground in a sunny spot in your garden. Make sure that the rim of the clay pot is buried, or the rim will act as a wick, drying out the soil in the pot and the surrounding soil. Mulch the area around the poinsettia and feed it lightly. Prune back any overly aggressive shoots.
mas cactus, the kalanchoe and the poinsettia. If you would like to try to keep your poinsettia for flowering the following Christmas, place it a dimly lighted room once the bracts or “petals” drop and water it only enough to keep its roots moist.
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In September, bring your plant inside. Beginning the 1st of October, give your poinsettia at least 14 hours of darkness a day for 40 days in a row by placing it in a closet from 5 p.m. until 8 a.m. Any interruption of this schedule will delay flowering. You should start to see color in the bracts by Thanksgiving. Touch the soil surface daily. When it feels dry to the touch, water it thoroughly enough to allow water to drain out the bottom of the pot. Keep the plant in a cool room with plenty of light exposure. With a little bit of work, you will be rewarded with a flowering poinsettia again at next year’s holiday season. If you use your wood stove this winter, remember that wood ashes are a good potassium fertilizer source when used correctly. Because of their alkaline nature, wood ashes will raise soil pH. Use them in the garden only if a soil test shows a pH level under 7.0. Do not apply wood ashes around “acid-loving” plants. The safe rate of wood ash application to lawn or gardens is 15 to 20 lbs. (approximately a fivegallon pail) per 1,000 square feet per year. Another alternative is to sprinkle them over the compost pile at different times during the winter. Remember, a little wood ash is beneficial, but a lot is not. Also, remember to store the cold ashes in a covered metal container outside the house. Every year we read in the newspaper about house fires 89
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day greenery in the garden. Wreaths and branches stripped from Christmas trees make excellent mulch for protecting newly planted ornamentals. Remove the material in the
caused by incorrectly stored hot ashes and coals. Don’t forget to recycle your holi-
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yellow-toned needles. Damaged deciduous plants will have bronze or reddish leaves. Alternatives to salt include sand or sawdust. Some publications suggest spreading granulated fertilizer, but in my experience, chemical fertilizers stain carpets when carried inside on shoes. They are also salts and can lead to the same damage problems as regular deicing salt if not use correctly. Happy Gardening!
spring and compost it. We will not get by this winter without some snowfall and ice. If you plan to use salt to melt ice on walks and driveways, spread it carefully to avoid damage to nearby shrubs. Damage to needle-type evergreens will be evident next spring when they exhibit copper- and
Marc Teffeau retired as Director of Research and Regulatory Affairs at the American Nursery and Landscape Association in Washington, D.C. He now lives in Georgia with his wife, Linda.
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Dorchester Map and History
Š John Norton
Dorchester County is known as the Heart of the Chesapeake. It is rich in Chesapeake Bay history, folklore and tradition. With 1,700 miles of shoreline (more than any other Maryland county), marshlands, working boats, quaint waterfront towns and villages among fertile farm fields – much still exists of what is the authentic Eastern Shore landscape and traditional way of life along the Chesapeake. For more information about Dorchester County visit https://tidewatertimes.com/travel-tourism/dorchester/. 95
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Transitions by A.M. Foley
Whether we’re ready or not, the Biden/Harris administration will bring a sea change in style and substance, but consider how smooth the transition will be when compared to the upheaval Lincoln’s election caused, especially in Maryland, which became a border state. Talbot County’s Franklin Buchanan epitomized the turmoil felt in those times. Between November 6, 1860 and Lincoln’s inauguration four months later, seven states left the Union. In Baltimore, Buchanan’s birthplace, violence erupted on April 19, 1861. Massachusetts troops changing trains fired on civilian assailants who perceived them as invaders. Confident his native state would secede after this “Pratt Street Massacre,” Captain Buchanan resigned from the U.S. Navy, which he’d joined as a midshipman. Buchanan had lost his father at age seven, so he spent most of his youth in Philadelphia with his widowed mother, the daughter of Pennsylvania’s governor, Thomas McKean. Nevertheless, Buchanan still identified as a Marylander, especially after marrying Ann Catherine “Nannie” Lloyd, daughter of Edward Lloyd VI of Wye House in Talbot County.
Franklin Buchanan Since the first Lloyd had settled on the Eastern Shore in the 1600s, successive Edwards had accumulated plantations worked by hundreds of enslaved laborers. The Lloyds were the nearest thing to royalty a republic had to offer. Wye House residents might come calling by barge, propelled by enslaved, liveried oarsmen. Overseers enforcing stern discipline shocked Buchanan not at all. After enlisting at fifteen, he matured into a rigid, rule-following officer who lacked nuance and humor. Vowing never to overlook “the 97
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St. Michaels Map and History
© John Norton
On the broad Miles River, with its picturesque tree-lined streets and beautiful harbor, St. Michaels has been a haven for boats plying the Chesapeake and its inlets since the earliest days. Here, some of the handsomest models of the Bay craft, such as canoes, bugeyes, pungys and some famous Baltimore Clippers, were designed and built. The Church, named “St. Michael’s,” was the first building erected (about 1677) and around it clustered the town that took its name. For a walking tour and more history of the St. Michaels area visit https://tidewatertimes.com/travel-tourism/st-michaels-maryland/. 99
Transitions crime of drunkenness . . . committed under my command,” he did not hesitate to order lashes applied with a will, if not with relish. He said the
Navy went into decline after Congress outlawed cat-o-nine-tails in 1850. He found it ineffective to “mollycoddle” offenders in irons on bread and water. Unlike most southern sympa-
USS Constitution
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Transitions thizers, who likely never traveled beyond their county seat, Buchanan sailed the world for forty-five years, opposing Barbary Coast pirates, fighting the Mexican War, commanding Matthew Perry’s f lagship in Tokyo Bay and serving as the first Naval Academy Superintendent. (Don’t call him Old Buck.) On sea duty, he doubtless participated in wardroom debates on the “peculiar institution.” One shipmate he may have argued with was his older brother, T. McKean Buchanan, named for their grandfather, a signer of the Declaration of Independence. Franklin and
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Oxford Map and History
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Oxford is one of the oldest towns in Maryland. Although already settled for perhaps 20 years, Oxford Oxford Bellevue Ferry marks the year 1683 177 166 as its official founding, 155 nd Stra St. 144 for in that year Oxford The 133 was first named by n a 18 8 19 9 hm Tilg the Maryland General k e e Assembly as a seaport Cr 122 St. n and was laid out as a son il W 11 East town. In 1694, OxSt. lair St. t nc 10 e Si rk St. Ma ford and a new town Oxford 9 t. Park hS called Anne Arundel son Hig 8 Richard . St (now Annapolis) were n Divisio St. selected the only ports of entry for the entire i Town Rd. non . eek Cr e B Ave Maryland province. n 3 isio t. Until the American S Div W. 2 Revolution, Oxford 1 t. S ne enjoyed prominence roli 7 ad Ro Ca d 333 Oxfor To Easton as an international Pleasant Oxford St. Community shipping center surCenter Hbr. Robes t. 4 C rounded by wealthy E. Pier St. Pier St. tobacco plantations. Oxford Today, Oxford is a Š John Norton 6 5 charming tree-lined and waterbound village with a population of just over 700 and is still important in boat building and yachting. It has a protected harbor for watermen who harvest oysters, crabs, clams and fish, and for sailors from all over the Bay. For a walking tour and more history visit https://tidewatertimes. com/travel-tourism/oxford-maryland/.
Transitions McKean sailed the Pacific together aboard USS Constitution. During Franklin’s absence, Nannie convinced her brother Edward to buy Ferry Farm estate, six miles south of Wye House on the Miles River, for the cash-strapped Buchanans. Buchanan spent his time ashore with Nannie and their nine children in the manor house named The Rest, served by a number of enslaved “servants.” In his in-laws’ social circle, he began using the term “Yankee” disparagingly, denoting cunning or lack of honor, not a fellow countryman. His father had belonged to the Anti-Slavery Society, but Bu-
chanan’s sympathies had definitely “gone South.” When the question of secession came to a head in the 1860 election, Lincoln received two Talbot County votes. At the time, Buchanan held a prestigious position as commandant of Washington’s Navy Yard. Lincoln’s March 4 inauguration fell one month before the scheduled wedding of Buchanan’s twenty-year-old daughter, Nannie. Protocol dictated that the president be invited to the Yard and treated courteously by the commandant. In the biography Confederate Admiral, Craig Symonds describes the bride’s kid sister, fifteen-yearold Elizabeth, declining to shake
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Lincoln’s hand. She may have been the youngest, but she likely was not the first to shun the guest of honor. Lincoln smiled at Elizabeth and called her a “little rebel,” ultimately charming her into offering her hand. After the ceremony, Lincoln escorted the bride in to dinner and officiated at cutting the cake. Scarcely two weeks later, on a Friday, the Pratt Street Massacre killed four troopers and twelve civilians. Over that weekend, assuming Maryland would secede, Buchanan prepared his resignation letter while simultaneously preparing the Navy Yard against attack. Monday morning, he delivered his resignation to Secretary of the Navy Gideon Welles, vowing he
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Transitions would “not take part in defence of this Yard from this date.” Ambivalence was not a quality normally associated with Buchanan, but his background positioned him squarely on all sides. Within days, when Maryland had not left the Union, he decided he’d acted hastily. Attempting to withdraw his resignation, he wrote Welles, “I am ready for service,” but requested assignment abroad. Welles replied, “By direction of the president, your name has been stricken from the rolls of the Navy.” Lincoln’s administration denied withdrawing officers their right to resign, simply discharging them and nullifying pension eligibility. After
forty-five years of service under the nation’s flag, Buchanan found himself discharged by a pair of civilian abolitionists. He retreated to The Rest and spent the summer ruminating. His indignation boiled over in June. A small army detail, ordered to remove weapons from Easton’s armory, spotted cannonballs decorating Buchanan’s gateposts. “Thieves” landed at his private dock and seized these prizes, won in battle while leading troops in the Mexican War. Buchanan sought out the colonel commanding the “low lives” and prevailed on the stunned Yankee officer to have his souvenirs returned. By July, Buchanan deemed it “pure folly for any sensible man to
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suppose that the South can be subdued.� By August, he was testing the waters for a commission in a nearly nonexistent Confederate Navy. September found him in Richmond, most senior among 120 ex-Navy officers. The charred hull of the USS Merrimack, abandoned in Norfolk Navy Yard, constituted virtually the entire Confederate Navy. Resurrected and rechristened CSS Virginia, she was clad in ironplate and outfitted with a protruding ram and ten guns. Buchanan was given command of this experimental superweapon, which officialdom hoped might somehow even odds against the U.S. fleet. Buchanan had dreamt of but had
never been in an actual naval battle. Now he was to command the maiden voyage of an untested ironclad in the Battle of Hampton Roads. The underpowered Virginia lumbered into the Roads on March 8, 1862, guns blazing and incoming shots sliding off greased ironplating. She slowly stalked and rammed the frigate USS Cumberland, nearly being pulled under with her foe before the ram broke off. She righted and began an awkward turn toward USS Congress, which had run aground. This immobilized frigate had little defense. Smooth-bore guns, unable to penetrate ironplate, were soon knocked out, forcing Congress to strike her colors and raise a white flag.
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Transitions When Buchanan sent a boat under white flag to complete formalities, troops ashore fired and wounded several of his men. Believing Congress had dishonored a flag of truce, he ordered her burned without regard to crew. On deck watching hot shot and shell set her ablaze, he grabbed a rifle and fired against the shore unit. Thus heedlessly exposed, he was struck near the femoral artery in his left thigh by an infantry bullet. Afterwards, officers gathered in his quarters to discuss the day’s victories. From his cot, the pale captain revealed, “My brother, Paymaster [McKean] Buchanan, was on board the Congress.” By then she was engulfed in flames, which eventually reached the ship’s maga-
zine. Congress’ final explosion was felt for miles, perhaps reaching Buchanan, who was en route to a Norfolk hospital. In his absence, USS Monitor arrived the next day and the first battle of ironclads ended in mutual claims of victory and accusations of duplicity. Buchanan was promoted to admiral and, when recovered sufficiently, was assigned to Mobile, Alabama, southern blockade-runners’ most useful Gulf port. Construction of six ironclads was envisioned, but a shortage of resources and qualified crewmen forced Buchanan to reduce his aspirations from six to one: CSS Tennessee, outfitted and armed over a two-year struggle. Buchanan formally took command in May 1864, determined to engage the blockading fleet of his former messmate, Admiral David Farra-
CSS Virginia versus the USS Cumberland in the Battle of Hampton Roads. 108
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Transitions gut. (Ironically, a native of Tennessee, Farragut never considered “going South.”) Mobile citizens watched for the clash, but after a false start, Buchanan determined it wiser to anchor and await a federal advance through mines (“torpedoes”) sown around the channel. After eight weeks, Farragut’s fleet, grown from eleven to twenty-three ships, started toward Tennessee and her three supporting wooden gunboats. Farragut lost his lead ship when it strayed into a mine. He heedlessly charged his flagship ahead, quoted as ordering, “Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.”
The outcome of the ensuing battle was never in doubt. Again, Buchanan suffered a severe leg wound while taking a central role in the action. After Tennessee surrendered, Farragut afforded him every courtesy, sending Buchanan to a Florida hospital with his requested aide and two physicians. At war’s end, imprisoned briefly
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in New York, Buchanan was visited by his brother McKean, a Congress survivor. Correspondence from Maryland family had been unreliable throughout: letters were usually run through a blockade via the Caribbean. One letter, received directly through the lines under a flag of compassionate truce, notified the admiral that The Rest had been consumed by an accidental fi re. A more modest, Victorian-style Rest eventually replaced the original. Softening a melancholy homecoming, Talbot County welcomed him as a hero. The fledgling Agricultural College of Maryland (University of Maryland) named Buchanan president, but he resigned in a dispute with the trustees after
he peremptorily fi red half of a fourprofessor faculty for lack of discipline. The Admiral died at home of pneumonia May 11, 1874. He was buried in the Lloyd family cemetery, behind the Wye House orangery, with two souvenir cannonballs at the foot of his grave. Forty-some years ago, A.M. Foley swapped the Washington, D.C., business scene for a writing life on Elliott Island, Maryland. Tidewater Times has kindly published portions of one upcoming work, Chesapeake Bay Island Hopping, along with other regional musings. Foley’s published works are described at www.HollandIslandBook.com.
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Kent County and Chestertown at a Glance Kent County is a treasury of early American history. Its principal towns and back roads abound with beautiful old homes and historic landmarks. The area was first explored by Captain John Smith in 1608. Kent County was founded in 1642 and named for the shire in England that was the home of many of Kent’s earliest colonists. When the first legislature assembled in 1649, Kent County was one of two counties in the colony, thus making it the oldest on the Eastern Shore. It extended from Kent Island to the present boundary. The first settlement, New Yarmouth, thrived for a time and, until the founding of Chestertown, was the area’s economic, social and religious center. Chestertown, the county seat, was founded in 1706 and served as a port of entry during colonial times. A town rich in history, its attractions include a blend of past and present. Its brick sidewalks and attractive antiques stores, restaurants and inns beckon all to wander through the historic district and enjoy homes and places with architecture ranging from the Georgian mansions of wealthy colonial merchants to the elaborate style of the Victorian era. Second largest district of restored 18th-century homes in Maryland, Chestertown is also home to Washington College, the nation’s tenth oldest liberal arts college, founded in 1782. Washington College was also the only college that was given permission by George Washington for the use of his name, as well as given a personal donation of money. The beauty of the Eastern Shore and its waterways, the opportunity for boating and recreation, the tranquility of a rural setting and the ambiance of living history offer both visitors and residents a variety of pleasing experiences. A wealth of events and local entertainment make a visit to Chestertown special at any time of the year. For more information about events and attractions in Kent County, contact the Kent County Visitor Center at 410-778-0416, visit www. kentcounty.com or e-mail tourism@kentcounty.com. For information about the Historical Society of Kent County, call 410-778-3499 or visit www.kentcountyhistory.org/geddes.php. For more info. visit www.chestertown.com. 113
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Tilghman’s Island “Great Choptank Island” was granted to Seth Foster in 1659. Thereafter it was known as Foster’s Island, and remained so through a succession of owners until Matthew Tilghman of Claiborne inherited it in 1741. He and his heirs owned the island for over a century and it has been Tilghman’s Island ever since, though the northern village and the island’s postal designation are simply “Tilghman.” For its first 175 years, the island was a family farm, supplying grains, vegetables, fruit, cattle, pigs and timber. Although the owners rarely were in residence, many slaves were: an 1817 inventory listed 104. The last Tilghman owner, General Tench Tilghman (not Washington’s aide-de-camp), removed the slaves in the 1830s and began selling off lots. In 1849, he sold his remaining interests to James Seth, who continued the development. The island’s central location in the middle Bay is ideally suited for watermen harvesting the Bay in all seasons. The years before the Civil War saw the influx of the first families we know today. A second wave arrived after the War, attracted by the advent of oyster dredging in the 1870s. Hundreds of dredgers and tongers operated out of Tilghman’s Island, their catches sent to the cities by schooners. Boat building, too, was an important industry. The boom continued into the 1890s, spurred by the arrival of steamboat service, which opened vast new markets for Bay seafood. Islanders quickly capitalized on the opportunity as several seafood buyers set up shucking and canning operations on pilings at the edge of the shoal of Dogwood Cove. The discarded oyster shells eventually became an island with seafood packing houses, hundreds of workers, a store, and even a post office. The steamboats also brought visitors who came to hunt, fish, relax and escape the summer heat of the cities. Some families stayed all summer in one of the guest houses that sprang up in the villages of Tilghman, Avalon, Fairbank and Bar Neck. Although known for their independence, Tilghman’s Islanders enjoy showing visitors how to pick a crab, shuck an oyster or find a good fishing spot. In the twentieth century, Islanders pursued these vocations in farming, on the water, and in the thriving seafood processing industry. The “Tilghman Brand” was known throughout the eastern United States, but as the Bay’s bounty diminished, so did the number of water-related jobs. Still, three of the few remaining Bay skipjacks (sailing dredgeboats) can be seen here, as well as two working harbors with scores of power workboats. 115
EVER WONDER why the new America's Cup boats are on foils? It all goes back to the 2010 America's Cup, the first time in Cup history two multihulls met on the starting line. Learning to Fly is a missing and dramatic piece of Cup history, with designers, builders, and sailors venturing into unknown, dangerous waters. Available at Amazon.com. 116
Changes:
All American Part XVI of a novel in many parts
by Roger Vaughan Previously: The year is 1988. Andy Thomas made an ill-advised tactical call during a race in 50foot sailboats that nearly caused a dangerous collision. His father, Mitchell (at the helm), was livid. Later, at the awards dinner, a drunken Andy delivered a public declaration that made it virtually impossible for Mitchell Thomas, a well-known amateur sailor, not to mount a Round the World Race challenge. Okay, you know the rest, but if you need a refresher, go to www. tidewatertimes.com (writers, Roger Vaughan) where you can find all previous chapters. ***
G
iven the amount of blood on Andy’s clothes, the late hour and their altered states, Andy, Jan and Eric entered the Iberia Hotel by the back entrance and took the service elevator to the fifth f loor. They encountered no one. In the room, Andy rushed to the toilet, long overdue. He noticed that Isha’s cosmetics were gone, neatly packed
in their bag perched on the vanity. He unlocked the fridge, and the three sailors grabbed mini bottles and beers for a nightcap. Andy turned on the TV. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles appeared. Eric went to the bathroom, soaked a hand towel in hot water, removed the bandana and washed the cut on Andy’s arm. “Not bad,” Eric said, as the hot compress made Andy wince. “In my ’hood, anything under six inches was considered a scratch.” They stared in dull amusement at the Ninja Turtles, which somehow made more sense in Spanish, content to sit and zonk out. After a while, Sargent popped the question. “What was that all about?” “Guess they figured I was an easy mark,” Andy said. “But Señor Ricos? Come on, man, that’s a rough neighborhood joint.” “Mistake, I guess. Maybe the limo driver was in on it. Dunno.” Andy shrugged. “Good sandwich.” “And a guy with a knife?” Sargent
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where he’d had a few drinks and waited for three hours, then had persisted. “Three guys couldn’t re- to fight off muggers. Isha took it lieve a half-drunk American sailor from there. Eric was so entranced of a few pesos? They needed a by this demonstration of Isha’s knife?” ability to talk ears off owls that “Turns out they did!” Andy said he located the TV remote and rewith a grin. duced the volume of Ninja Turtles, The three of them howled at that a little at a time, the better to hear just as Isha arrived. All she could this very emotive woman (whose see from the door were Jan and extreme choreographed moves as Eric. From her perspective, Andy she spoke threatened to f ling off was out of sight. Isha walked into the scanty clothing concealing her her room at midnight to find a cou- abundant charms at any second) ple guys from All American’s crew carry on about what the plan had she hardly knew watching televi- been, about Roger Davis and Gloria sion, laughing and obviously quite and the limo driver and how she’d drunk ~ in her room, goddammit! ~ told the bloody fool specifically to and she went off untake Andy to Señor "Oh my God til she took a couple Roberto’s, not Selook at you. . . steps and saw Andy, ñor Ricos’, my God, a vision that stopped wherever in hell that the blood!" her in her tracks and is, and how they all performed the nearly impossible had waited and waited for Andy to task of shutting her up ~ instantly. show up, and how they had tried It was momentary, Isha was that to call him so many times, and good, but the split second of her hadn’t she said his phone probably face being rearranged into a mask wouldn’t work here in South freakof disbelief is what Andy would re- ing America? And how they were tain as palpably as if it were a photo so worried about him and almost he carried in his wallet. called the police, and now she finds “Oh, my God, look at you, the him here covered with blood, and blood,” Isha said, then quickly for God’s sake (angrily addressing went on the offensive as she re- Jan and Eric directly), “why didn’t gained her momentum: “You never you people take him to the hospital showed up!” Jan and Eric sat back because isn’t it obvious he needs and marveled at one of Isha’s more medical attention?!” prolonged and inventive monoIt was all Jan and Eric could do logues. Andy got in a line or two not to applaud. “You people” resoabout being taken to Señor Ricos, nated. It was a fantastic perfor118
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blowing whatever control they had managed to maintain, and now the mance. But credit the two of them three of them were howling. Eric for being able to maintain blank rolled out of his chair onto the faces, for seeming to take Isha’s f loor, helpless. world seriously, for not wanting to That wasn’t quite the reaction queer whatever deal Andy had go- Isha had expected. Like any actress ing. It was Andy who cracked up, whose routine may have backfired, Andy who found blessed relief at she was at once sad and angry. long last in fully appreciating what Seizing the moment, Andy was on an outrageous piece of work he had his feet and putting his arm around on his hands, relief in his dawning her. “Come on, honey,” Andy said, realization of what a polished liar encouraging Jan and Eric with a Isha was, and how her very act of look over Isha’s shoulder. “We’re lying was possibly unmatched for laughing with you, not at you. I its entertainment value. As lying mean, nobody can tell a story like went, she was world class, and it you can.” Jan and Eric nodded and cracked him up. murmured in agreement, and they It had been damn didn’t have to lie. "Nobody can tell near impossible for Eric clapped. a story Andy to confront “Really, you think the growing suspiso?” Isha was conlike you can." cion that Isha was trite, almost tearful, a principle player in a nefarious as she tucked into Andy’s arm. “Abplot to cause him serious harm. He solutely.” Andy’s look at his teamstruggled to get his head around mates told them to wrap it up. that reality. He could only work “We’d better call it a night,” Jan on it a few minutes at a time ~ the said, standing carefully, getting his concept was that. . . offensive. But bearings. Eric hauled himself off helped, perhaps, by having spent the f loor with effort. 20 days at sea, the apparent Moun“I’m coming with you,” Andy tain View crisis, his presence in said. “Just let me get a bag.” “South freaking America,” the cra“Oh, baby, no, stay here,” Isha zy events of the past evening and crooned as her hand slipped down how he, the useless, overweight, well below Andy’s hip. drunken rich kid, had kicked the “Believe me, I’d love to,” Andy shit out of three toughs with dark said, having decided that his smart intentions ~ one with a knife! ~ the play for the moment was to apply whole thing cracked him up. Andy bygones. “We’ve got an early meetgoing off triggered Jan and Eric, ing with race officials. Best if I’m 122
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All American waking up on site and near a coffee pot.” “We have a coffee pot right here!” “Yeah, and Eric did a good job on the nasty cut I got on the boat that opened up, but I need Joe Dugan to make sure it’s not going to get infected.” “I’ll be sad without you.” Isha was pouting. “Me, too,” Andy said. “Me, too. But,” he said, making eye contact, “business is business.” “I know,” she said demurely, looking away. ***
T
he warm, clear night was full of music. It was a fancy affair, a fashion show laid on by the official hosts of the Punta stopover, with all proceeds going to charities. The crews of the eight competing yachts were seated at big tables in their team colors. Heavy hitters from all parts of the city had purchased tables. The men were in blazers and shirts open a button or perhaps two, depending on the quality of their physiques, the quantity of chest hair and the weight in karats of gold chains on display. The women were dressed to the nines, with display a given. A red carpet was set up, with TV crews providing live coverage. The venue was a couple acres of lush lawn mown to
championship fairway standards, f lanked by an Olympic-sized pool on one side and a grass tennis court on the other. On the back side was a full-size soccer goal, a reminder that the owner of this lavish estate was none other than internationally known footballer Colon Martinez, one of the wealthiest people in Uruguay. His sprawling designer mansion crowned a rise behind the stage and a catwalk that had been built for the fashion show. Lou Sosa’s rocking 17-piece tango band, with maybe a thousand silver buttons f lashing on the musicians’ collective gaucho outfits, made it all move. Isha had outdone herself and was holding her own in the eyecandy department, despite the impressive collection of local beauties and the presence of stunning models who had been imported and whose f lashes of nudity could be glimpsed behind the transparent hedge where they were hastily changing. Isha had gone for a f lowing arrangement of featherlight fabrics that seemed to move even in those rare moments when she was still. Her hair was in studied disarray, held precariously in check by a large, jeweled chignon pin. A shame, Andy thought as he watched her endless dance, that it was all such a shuck. He was surprised that the convoluted bit of violence directed at him had caused more curiosity than fear. There
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“Now, where do you think you’re going, you must stay. . .” was a game afoot. He was a player, “Sorry, boat business.” It was an object, by the looks, and he felt Jan, using his King Neptune voice, suddenly quite alive and ready. He putting his arm around Cotton and realized it was quite a new feeling, claiming him with a laugh. It caught but one he rather liked. Isha off guard, and she turned away. He and Jan were waiting back- Her pout was wasted on the skipper. stage for their cue to join two modAs Andy was leaving, Eric caught els on the catwalk ~ someone’s idea up with him. of an amusing thing to do, get the “I thought you should have this,” various teams involved in the show. Eric said, handing him a small, There was no slipping out of it, and, soiled envelope, folded in half. “It’s as Jan had said, the company was probably nothing, but I picked it up good. Their lovely partners ar- next to that guy you clobbered at the rived, and the four of them walked bar the other night. Forgot about it. the walk to the Sosa rhythms and Lucky I go through my pockets bethe razzing from the other teams, fore I put my pants in the laundry. lots of whistling and No idea if it’s imporIt was quite a laughs. Then that tant. Thought you new feeling, one was over as their should have it. Just models rushed off in case. Later.” he rather liked. to change without so Eric walked away. much as a nice-to-meet-you. Andy unfolded the envelope and Back at the team table, Sam Cot- saw “Scotia Bank” printed on it. It ton had arrived. Sam was dapper stopped him for a second, then he in blazer and tie. Andy couldn’t recalled watching Isha with the get over how good he looked. He’d pocket scope, watching her meet lost some weight, and his eyes had the same guy who’d pulled a knife some sparkle. He was working on on him that night, watching her a glass of red as he chatted with walk into Scotia Bank. He felt a the boys. The minute Andy and Jan chill. It made his arm hurt. arrived, he broke off conversation He caught up with Sam and Jan and got to his feet before they could as they got to the house. The butler sit down. recognized Sam, and the three men “We need to talk. I’ve arranged followed him, walking through sevto go to the house.” eral gorgeous rooms and hallways Isha, missing nothing, swooped out of interior design magazine over, draping an arm around Sam photographs, to the library. There Cotton’s shoulder. were books, to be sure, but the 126
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a good head of hair, albeit white, sparring with Jan Sargent. A coutrophies and keepsakes, the auto- ple of first-rate gamers having a go. graphed photographs, balls, cleats “I do have this little token for and jerseys outnumbered them. It you,” Sam said, pulling a thin was an impressive display. They rectangular box from his jacket were barely seated in soft, button- pocket. Jan took the box, opened tufted leather chairs when a wait- it and extracted a pocket scope ress appeared with a tray of drinks much like the one Andy had, only and warm nibbles. an older model. Andy could see Jan The boat business took about ten was touched. He got up, went to the minutes. Jan gave Sam a report on window overlooking the stage and the leg, talking about tactics and put it to his eye. how the yacht ~ and the crew ~ had “Wow.” He looked back at Sam. behaved. A sailor, Sam understood. “We are on the business side of that Jan told him no changes in person- hedge.” nel were necessary. It was a good Sargent walked back but didn’t team. Sam told Jan the two new sit. He picked up his papers, shook sails had arrived Sam’s hand, gave "Where do you and gave him an enAndy a wink and think you're going? velope containing left. Sam got up, folcash for local needs, lowed him and shut You must stay." and paperwork indithe door. cating bills paid. “You friend Jeff Linn called,” “I’m not sure I understand this Sam said, getting right to it. note you sent me indicating a ‘leg “I know. I didn’t intend for you to bonus’ of $10,000,” Sam said. “Did f ly to South America,” Andy said. you or one of the crew injure a leg?” “Good excuse for a change of Jan smiled. “No, sir. We finished scenery. Besides, the course at the in the top three, on the podium. Cantegril Club is supposed to be The bonus is a race tradition.” excellent. Built in 1929. I have an “Ah,” Sam said, returning the 8 a.m. tee time tomorrow. Martismile. “I’m afraid it is not a Moss nez set me up. Nice of him.” Sam tradition.” paused, poured himself more wine. Jan shrugged. “No worries.” Andy relished how calm he felt in Andy loved it. There was Sam Cot- Sam’s presence. In this period of ton, old-school Sam who had re- total suspension, when not too cently turned 80. Sam, whom he much made any sense ~ the days had known since childhood. Short, at sea, the strange country, Isha’s stocky Sam looking fit, still with threatening behavior, the fight that 128
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All American could have gone wrong ~ having Sam there in the f lesh was a reassuring connection to the familiar. Sam knew it. That’s why he’d come. “I’d bring you the hell home with me,” Sam said, “but Deedee would have a bloody fit. She’s adamant you finish the race. But Jesus, Andy. . .” Sam shook his head. “Jan told me about the fight. A knife? Are you kidding?” “Yeah. Bad luck.” “Bullshit. There have been too many of these incidents. That business in the tunnel ten years ago, that could have been you. Jan told me about you going over the side, not clipped on. . .” “Damn, Sam, you grill Jan?” Andy kept it light, but mention of the tunnel always struck his core. Sam lining it up with Knife Man gave it even more weight. . . “Could have been you?” “. . .and I know that’s bullshit because you’ve known to clip on since you were ten years old.” “I thought I had.” “You had! Who was on the foredeck working with you?” “Davis. Roger Davis.” “Same guy who messed with you on the boulders at Outward Bound, right? Same guy who got a tray of food dumped in his lap.” “You got all this on video?” Andy laughed. “I liked that, the food dump.”
Sam’s grin was short lived. “And now this Mountain Dew thing.” “View.” “It’s getting to be a goddam mountain, all right. I don’t like it.” “Have you found out anything?” “Mitch spilled the details to Deedee,” Sam said. “She was mad as hell when Mitch wouldn’t let the company do Mountain View. She found out, hell, Mitch probably told her, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it but stew.” “What details? How did Mitch know? Sam, for Chrissakes!” “That George Cooper has vanished along with a lot of money. That’s about all we know.” “People don’t just vanish these days.” “Well, he has. Emptied the escrow account.” Andy felt like he’d been punched. “Jesus. Are you kidding?! That needs both our signatures.” Sam just smiled. “This is a digital age, my boy. Much easier to forge signatures. So things have ground to a halt, except for the lawsuits. But rest assured, Deedee is on your side. She told Mitch she would bail you out. You can imagine how that went down. He can’t block it. I have her power of attorney. Be nice to me.” Sam tilted his glass toward Andy with a grin. Andy found himself staring at the ceiling again. No cracks this time. It was an extraordinary coffered ceiling, with a soccer ball
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All American carved into the center of each frame (Goal!), all done in dark Brazilian hardwoods. “She’s very proud of you for staying with the Race, doing so well. Very proud.” Andy took a deep breath. “How’s Becky? Sorry she didn’t make it.” Sam gave Andy one of those looks that fathers cast upon young men who have the audacity to be interested in their daughters. It’s somewhere between the look a buyer puts on a horse and the blank stare a detective lasers on a suspect. “She’s well,” Sam said. “Busy. I heard she was thinking about coming here, but work interfered.”
“I don’t know what she does.” “Photography. Has a studio. Portraits, food, cars, you name it.” “Really!” “Really.” Both men laughed. “I have to say, you look really good, Sam, like you’ve turned the clock back.” “Thanks. I got sick of dragging my ass around, so I decided to do something about it. Changed my diet, started working out, playing more golf. I think it’s the golf that really did it.” ***
S
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barbeque of beef, pork, chicken and sausage that was served. Outside the gate, a few taxis were lined up, their drivers sitting on the grass shoulder chatting while they waited for fares. When Sam appeared, a taxi jumped the line and pulled in to where he was standing. The ride back into the city was brief and uneventful until they got into the outskirts. The driver braked suddenly and turned into an alley. Before Sam could protest, the driver had skidded to a stop. A man with a bandana over his face pulled open Sam’s door and grabbed him. The masked man’s mistake was taking Sam for a frail senior. As he was pulled from the car, Sam kneed the man in the groin and
shoved him to the ground. Before the man could recover, Sam had pulled a pepper spray pen from his inside pocket and blasted him in the face. He whirled and caught the driver with another blast as he came at him with a club. Both men were temporarily blinded, doubled up on the road, moaning in pain. “If you think you’re gonna make me miss my tee time tomorrow morning, think again,” Sam told the men he’d disabled. He walked out to the main street to find a more friendly taxi. Roger Vaughan has lived, worked, and sailed in Oxford since 1980.
Celebrating 25 Years Tracy Cohee Hodges Vice President Area Manager Eastern Shore Lending
111 N. West St., Suite C Easton, MD 21601 410-820-5200 tcohee@firsthome.com
www.tracycohee.com
NMLS ID: 148320
This is not a guarantee to extend consumer credit. All loans are subject to credit approval and property appraisal. First Home Mortgage Corporation NMLS ID #71603 (www.nmlsconsumeraccess.org)
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www.craiglinthicum.com
The “FIVE PONDS FARM” A FABULOUS GATED WATERFRONT ESTATE on Maryland’s Eastern Shore just minutes outside of Historic Easton sits on 311+/- acres with tree lined drive with a half-mile of waterfront on the CHOPTANK RIVER. This property features a stunning custom 5 BR, 5 full, 2 half BA manor house, 2 BR, 2 BA guest cottage, 3 BR, 2 BA caretaker home, equipment sheds, workshop, 5 ponds, 6 waterfowl impoundments, wells, deep water dock w/lifts, wildlife habitat, waterfowl blinds and deer stands. Property also includes sweeping lawns, gardens, meadows, farmland, wetlands, and wooded acreage. Make an appointment today to see this incredible home and property. PRICE IMPROVEMENT: $4,900,000 6077bostoncliffrd.com
Benson & Mangold Real Estate craig.linthicum@gmail.com www.CraigLinthicum.com 136
410.726.6581 410.228.0800 301 Crusader Road, Ste 2, Cambridge, MD 21613
BOSTON CLIFF, ca. 1729 Perfectly maintained brick house & guest house. Outbuildings, pool, deepwater dock. 2000 ft. Choptank River shoreline. Big views. 20 private acres of high land, close to Easton. Hunting. $2,995,000
EASTON, 1st STORY BEDROOMS Spacious low maintenance home designed for comfortable living! 4 BRs, 3-1/2 BAs. 2-car garage with shop. Dining room, family room with woodstove. Large kitchen. Deck overlooking colorful flower garden. Only $459,000
SEVENTH HAVEN Private setting minutes from Easton. 3.7 high acres looking west over Dixon Creek. Bailey pier with 4 ft MLW. Huge oak trees, dogwoods, border ravines. Informal low maintenance residence with many recent updates. First time offered in 75 years. $1,195,000.
SHORELINE REALTY 114 Goldsborough St., Easton, MD 21601 410-822-7556 · 410-310-5745 www.shorelinerealty.biz · bob@shorelinerealty.biz
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