Tidewater Times November 2024

Tidewater Times

November 2024

RARE WATERFRONT BUILDING LOT

Just minutes outside St. Michaels in the Bozman area of Talbot County, this 2.85-acre lot with over 600’ of shoreline provides exceptional views looking directly down the waters of Grace Creek (a beautiful tributary of Broad Creek). There is a great building site, with good elevation. Public sewer and fiber optic internet cable are both projected to be available for connections within the next 12 months. This is a great opportunity to design and begin construction of your new waterfront home...Now!

$550,000

Making Fall New: Michael Valliant.

Dairy Queen of Easton - 60 Years of Deliciousness: Tracey F. Johns

The Great Sand Dunes of Henlopen: James Dawson

Tidewater Gardening K. Marc Teffeau

Election Day: A.M. Foley

Tidewater Kitchen: Pamela Meredith

All Quiet on the Sound (chapter 15): B. P. Gallagher

About the Cover Paintographer Coleman Sellers, IV

Inspired by my ancestor Charles Willson Peale, painter, patriot, innovator and “man of science” I have spent my life studying my ancestors paintings, the Peale-Sellers Papers, and became a fine art, commercial, event and wedding photographer. In 2010 I relocated from Wilmington, Delaware to the Eastern Shore of Maryland. My wife, our children and I live within two miles of Charles Willson Peale’s birthplace. Inspired by my deep connection to Charles Willson Peale and his legacy Paintography emerged as my new art and has “compressed” the distance in time to the known artists in my family tree, the Peale Family, Maxfield Parrish and Howard Pyle who I sense would all look fondly on what I have created. We Sellers are historically engineers, artists and innovators.

“I began to deepen my awareness of my surroundings on several levels, visually, spiritually and more importantly emotionally when we move to Centreville. I kept asking myself, ‘How can I compress the distance (time) between us?’ I was daily looking at the same landscapes he (CWP) as on his portrait tours. The houses are still here. The families are still here. The colonial history and maritime history are alive here on the Eastern Shore. I kept racking my brain. Peale was an innovator, Cole-

man II was an amateur photographer who patented the kinomatiscope, the first moving picture. My father had seven patents himself. I too had to think differently.

Paintography came to me by thinking backwards. Trompe l’oeil in reverse - taking my photographs and turning them into paintings. Then came the hard part.

How? I quickly found that traditional software programs did not work. Neither did correctly exposed and processed images. I began to think about the first color photographs, Auto-chromes, three black and white images combined to make a color image. I began shooting RAW files in monochrome. That took me back to the 1850s. I was getting closer, if only mentally. I discovered and using my Zeiss and Hasselblad lenses with adapters to my digital camera worked. Canon Raw, Aperture then Photoshop and Topaz are the four software programs used to create Paintography. As much as I have learned, not every image converts to what I visualize and that is frustrating at times.

I have had two one man shows. One at The Dorchester Center for The Arts, and the other at The Queen Anne’s County Centre for The Arts.

To see more of my work, visit Coleman Sellers Photography on FB.

Adventures in Being Bad by

Helen Chappell

Okay, this really happened. Even all these years later, I can’t believe it happened to me, but I was there. So it had to have happened.

Back in the ’60s, I got kicked out of boarding school and had to go back to public school. Before you start tsk-tsking, I’d like you to re-read The Catcher in the Rye , which is sort of the classic on getting kicked out of private schools. It was a horrible uptight school in Virginia, full of bitchy Southern Belles and mean girls.

I wasn’t too sorry I had to come home in disgrace. Of course, I had to hear about it for the rest of my life, but as much as I disliked public school, at least it offered me social companionship that went beyond mean girls. Although there are plenty of mean girls in public school, which is why I never go to any of the reunions ~ but that’s another story.

My theory is, if you were happy and in the “in crowd” in high school, you’re doomed to an adulthood of being a small-town insurance agent, divorced and living in a trailer and, oh, just all kinds of hellacious afterlife. If, on the other hand, you were miserable in high

school, your chances of leading a reasonably content and productive adult life are pretty good. So far, nothing in my experience has changed my opinion.

Anyway, there I was, back in public school ~ a small-town public high school. To begin with, it was a pretty mediocre school, with strong fears of godless commies, contempt for independent thought and a religious worship of all things sports related. The cliques were so stratified they might as well have been set in a cliff face. Not the best place to grow a creative, rebellious mind.

Adventures in Being Bad

You know the drill: the jocks and the cheerleaders at the top, then the socially inept grinders, the hoods, and then the rest of us: the outsiders who didn’t belong anywhere.

I didn’t belong anywhere. I wasn’t cute enough or interested enough in being a cheerleader or a jock, so bored by what passed for academia in that rabid post-McCarthy era that I didn’t make the Brain Trust and, well, not much of a hood. That left me adrift to shift myself all over the place socially.

I had friends in every clique and, as a member of the minority arty crowd, got pretty good at using hall passes for the art room or the year -

book office to sneak around school. I was never where I was supposed to be, and I took a real pleasure in this rebellion.

Because I was theoretically clean cut and attired in those matching Villager outfits (remember those?), Authority never suspected me. I sneaked below the radar.

If I’d been a snarling hoodie guy, I probably would have spent my life in the principal’s office and study hall. As an invisible, innocuous boarding school dropout, no one looked at me twice. I was not a troublemaker. In fact, given my sheltered WASP upbringing, I was as naïve as they come ~ or so the unoriginal administration thought.

What I was doing was hanging in various girls’ rooms getting an education from the hoodie girls in Real Life and smoking.

The hoodie girls were a source of endless fascination to me. They were far worldlier. While I had only the faintest idea where babies came from, a lot of them were already very, shall we say, active with their hoodie guy counterparts. I mean, they did more than just cut typing class and smoke Marlboros. Not a whole lot more, but from my sheltered perspective, enough. It

Yes, this is what my pretty little Villager dress looked like...

was like they were from another, far more exotic planet.

First, there was the hair. The hair was huge ~ bouffants that were teased, dyed and sprayed to dizzying heights. Some of them had trouble getting into their cars because their bouffants were at least eighteen inches high. The hair was an art form ~ a giant mold fashioned into styles known as the Lift, the Beehive and the Bubble that wouldn’t have moved in a hurricane. It was forbidden fruit to me, with my stubborn curls that wouldn’t take a tease and fell out of shape no matter how much Aqua Net I used.

Adventures in Being Bad

And the clothes. All black, with pointy bras and matching pointytoed shoes that could and might have put an eye out. They had leather coats and a wad of gum lodged tightly in their cheeks.

Oh, and let’s not forget the Cleopatra eyes! There were layers of blue eye shadow, gobs of black mascara beading on their lashes and the heavy black eyeliner that swooped from the corner of the eye out to the temple. Little girls who attempt this look today just bore me. I’ve seen the original, and it was much more spectacular.

The hoodie girls traveled with the hoodie guys. Menacing-looking hoods who lived for imitating Elvis, with the pomaded ducktails falling over their pimply foreheads, and long sides swept back in what was known as the duck’s ass. The

hair, male and female, was a work of art. Hoodie guys wore leather jackets and winklepicker boots. They rolled their jeans up with cuffs, and they rolled their Marlboros into the sleeves of their Tshirts.

And they all talked a tough game. Sometimes there were fights in the school parking lot and behind the shop class garage (guys) or in the girls’ room with hair pulling and scratching.

Watching with the detachment of an anthropologist, I found the hoods really interesting because they were bad and dangerous and smelled like Right Guard. I really thought they were scary. Outside

Winklepicker boots were the “in” style for the hoodie guys.

Adventures in Being Bad

of school they got into rumbles and cut each other over stealing boyfriends or hubcaps.

Since they sort of tolerated me, and I knew not to ask any questions, I was just sort of there, like a mascot ~ which was fine with me ~ until one day, amid the stench of Marlboro smoke, Aqua Net and Right Guard, in the third floor girls’ room, I got sucked into an adventure.

“Yeah, we’re gonna get her,” one of my hoodie friends said. Her name was Linda. They were all either Linda or JoAnn, and the guys were all Ronnie or Chet.

“She can’t steal Chet from you,

JoAnn. You’ve got his ankle bracelet.”

JoAnn, a vision in sky-high black beehive and white lipstick, sat on the radiator, dragging on her cancer stick. I couldn’t tell for the smudge of black eyeliner, but I think she’d been crying, or at least picking a ball of mascara out of her eye.

“She ain’t gettin’ away with this,” JoAnn proclaimed to the crowd of girls who had gathered around her sympathetically. There were murmurs all around. The crowd was restless.

Apparently, someone named Brenda, from another school, had poached the appealing Chet. This Brenda, finding his acne, his snarl, and his vocabulary of about fifty words, most of which referred to

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Adventures in Being Bad

moving engine parts, too hard to resist, had had the nerve to dance with him at the hop. I never attended these carefully chaperoned dens of sin, but I heard tales.

“Brenda and her gang all hang out to the Dairy DeeLicious after school,” one of the Lindas thoughtfully provided. “They think it’s their territory.”

I hardly saw how a rundown soft ice cream place at the edge of the next town could be anyone’s territory. I’d seen rats in the parking lot there.

But, the next thing you know, all the JoAnns and Lindas were getting into their full battle gear to go over to the Dairy DeeLicious and “get that no-good man-stealing slut Brenda.”

They really worked themselves up into a snit, and off we went, out a side door of the building and into one of the Lindas’ dad’s huge old Pontiac. There were about six of us crammed into the car, and I had sort of gotten swept out with them.

I’m guessing there were a few empty seats in business accounting class that day, but as sneaky as I was, and as many things as I’d done, AWOLing from school was sort of scary. If I got expelled again, my mother would kill me ~ for real this time.

A howling, bloodthirsty mob of ratted-up hair sped across the county toward the Dairy DeeLicious. Threats were uttered, and rattail combs were brandished. I was genuinely afraid I’d get back to school just in time to miss the bus and have to explain why I walked home.

The Pontiac skidded to a halt on the gravel of the dilapidated Dairy DeeLicious, and my gang of Madame DeFargeses piled out, looking for the man-stealing tramp Brenda.

The place was packed with high schoolers, and Brenda might have been in there, but first, the hair needed to be seen to, and the JoAnns and Lindas trooped into the dingy ladies’ room for a touchup of hairspray and white lipstick. You can’t kick ass if you aren’t looking your best.

There was already a small woman at the sink, working on her eyeliner. She was a hood chick to end all hood chicks. Her bouffant was not just suicide platinum, dyed by her own hand, it was fully three feet tall and involved an airlift, a beehive and a bubble. Marie Antoinette couldn’t have achieved a more complex ‘do on her best day.

Adventures in Being Bad

This vision’s eyeliner swept out to her temples, and she had three shades of blue. The clumps on her mascara were the size of apple seeds. She wore the most pointed-toe kitten heels ever seen on human feet, and her jeans were painted on. Her pleather jacket was impeccably discount store, and her suitcase-size black pleather purse balanced precariously on the edge of the filthy sink.

The posse halted, clearly stunned by this greaser goddess. She was perfect in every hoodie way ~ just a vision in sullen teen drama.

“We’re lookin’ for Brenda,” one of the Lindas managed to say.

Greaser Goddess slowly turned from the mirror. As she did so, her giant pleather purse spilled into the sink. As we watched, a giant Bowie knife spilled out of the pocketbook into the rusty bowl.

It lay there for a moment, sharpened and glittering. The Goddess swept it and the other contents back into her bag.

“I’m carryin’ it for my boyfriend,” she drawled, as if everyone carried a giant knife. “I’m Brenda. Who wants to know?”

With that, we all backed out of that dingy bathroom, slowly at first, then, as panic set in, as fast as we could. We were back in the Pontiac headed for home before anyone even breathed.

And that was my brush with hoodiness. I had to quit after that. It was just too much drama ~ even for me!

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 name, Rebecca Baldwin, she has published a number of historical novels.

Chuck

Mangold Jr. - Associate Broker

BENSON & MANGOLD REAL ESTATE

Nestled among the serene loblolly pines, this exquisite 4+/- acre waterfront lot offers an unparalleled retreat overlooking the tranquil waters of Broad Creek. Take a front row seat to colorful sunsets year-round thanks to the south-westerly views. Former Church Neck Road adjacent neighbor, James Michener, undoubtedly drew inspiration from similar water views for his novel ‘Chesapeake.’ Step inside to discover water views from nearly every room on the main level. From the primary suite to the living room, complete with a wood-burning fireplace, the inviting ambiance of the dining room, and the sun-drenched charm of the kitchen’s sunroom, each space invites you to unwind and soak in the natural beauty that surrounds you. The living room boasts vaulted ceilings, to accentuate the sense of space and airiness. Upstairs, two bedrooms and a library office offer a bird’s-eye view of the main living area below. Above the garage, an additional bonus two room office/study space await, complete with a full bathroom, ready to adapt to your every need. Outside, a 2-car garage stands ready to accommodate your vehicles or storage.

This attractive Colonial-style home in the desirable High Banks community offers spacious living with 5 bedrooms and 3 full baths, situated on a picturesque 2-acre lot that backs to trees. The main level features formal living and dining rooms, an open kitchen and family room with a cozy fireplace offer more casual living and leads to a large back deck-perfect for entertaining or enjoying peaceful country living. The primary suite is a luxurious retreat, complete with a walk-in closet, double vanities, a dressing area, a large corner soaking tub, and a separate shower. In addition to the primary suite you will find 4 additional ample sized bedrooms and a proper bonus room that would be perfect for a spacious home office or recreation room for everyone to enjoy. The property also includes a 2-car attached garage, a shed/workshop, and an additional 3-bay garage, one of them with a 14’ overhead door and 17’+/- ceiling height with 100 amp service and 50 amp outlet making it a versatile space to store an RV or boat. Additional space for an office or workshop perfect for a car collection, woodworking or large workshop and an excessive amount of storage. With new roof, new carpet and luxury vinyl tile, and fresh paint, this home is move-in ready and waiting for you!

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Autumn Delights

by Bonna L. Nelson

It’s the first day of autumn! A time for hot chocolatey mornings, and toasty marshmallow evenings, and best of all, leaping into leaves! -Winnie the Pooh Pooh’s Grand Adventure

One of my most favorite times of the year is autumn. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, visually, acoustically, gastronomically, aromatically, the season between summer and winter offers a harvest of delights.

As the hot dry summer fades, the cool autumn breezes begin, luring us outdoors to partake in their bliss. Light sweaters and jackets get pulled out from the back of the drawer or closet. Pants lengths tend to get longer, socks higher. Breathing seems easier, deeper and healthier.

I notice more walkers, joggers and bikers in neighborhoods and on roadways. Heads are held higher, Smiles spread across faces. It is a time for more activity and yet with a more relaxed attitude.

Farm fields are being harvested and cleared for winter crops. Tractors rolling across dry, dusty fields signal an end to the year’s growing season. Trucks loaded with pumpkins and gourds pass us by on the highways headed to markets. Early in the fall the stores begin

Autumn Delights to fill with seasonal decorations. Farm stands offer squash, apples, cranberries, pumpkins, turnips, sweet potatoes and gourds. Fresh, sweet apple cider arrives, as do candy apples coated in caramel or red sugar and sometimes topped with chopped nuts.

Interestingly, the Old English word for “autumn” is “Haerfest,” from which comes “harvest.” Harvest means to reap, gather and store what has been grown. Historically, the season is associated with abundance and joy as it is the culmination of many months of arduous work planting, fertilizing, watering and harvesting food for the coming winter.

Cultures around the world cel -

Autumn Delights

ebrate the season with festivals and traditions, such as our Thanksgiving. Traditions are rooted in gratitude for crops and food.

The green leaves of summer evolve over several autumn weeks to the dazzling colors of fall foliage prompted by the temperatures dropping and daylight shrinking. What is your favorite warm fall color? Amber, auburn, caramel, chocolate brown, crimson, copper, pumpkin orange, gold, maroon, olive green, eggplant purple, scarlet, mustard yellow? Overwhelmingly, the breathtaking beauty of the brilliant autumnal colors pleases all the senses and lifts the spirit.

Later in the season, drifting, floating, falling leaves catch our eye and crunch under foot on crisp autumn mornings and on outings to the pumpkin patch and the apple orchard. Harvest corn mazes invite young and old to travel through the corn fields smelling of fresh-cut corn. Pathways lead to special treats at the end of the maze.

And oh, those autumn treats! Besides apple cider and candy apples, I am crazy about apple pie, apple turnovers and apple cider donuts. Who doesn’t enjoy cranberry nut bread, zucchini nut bread and oatmealraisin cookies?

I crave everything pumpkin. My indulgences include pumpkin spice lattes, pumpkin pie, pumpkin bagels slathered in pumpkin cream cheese, pumpkin butter, pumpkin bread, pumpkin spice donuts, pumpkin spice granola, pumpkin spice coffee creamer and pumpkin flavored

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Greek yogurt. How about delectable crème fi lled pumpkin spice whoopie pies?

Following these sugary feasts, I wash my sticky hands with what else? Why, pumpkin and vanilla hand soap followed by its partner, pumpkin spice and vanilla hand lotion. I might brew a cup of pumpkin or chai spice tea to wash it all down. I might precede the pumpkin sweet treats with pumpkin or squash bisque with sweet potato muffins smothered in butter. Hmm, hungry yet?

Autumn Delights mentioned fall food treats, no matter whether from the scent of food, candles or lotions are my joy. Euphoric, blissful, joyful. Addictive? Maybe. I even have a pumpkin scented air freshener hanging on my car’s rearview mirror!

More sensory and spiritual moments can occur when decorating for autumn. Outside there are pumpkins

The scent of pumpkin pie, apple pie, apple strudel, pumpkin latte, cinnamon spice and all the afore-

Autumn Delights

and gourds of varying sizes and shapes to be sorted and stacked by the front door and mailbox. A tall, colorful scarecrow, or two, needs to fi nd just the right place to welcome visitors. Some cornstalks or a straw bundle add to the gaiety of the seasonal ambience.

Chrysanthemums or “mums” brighten the fall garden. Potted versions decorate porches outside and tables inside. A member of the daisy family, the perennial plants come back each year. We plant potted mums after the season ends and separate garden mums to enjoy another full array the following year. Mums not only bloom in autumnal colors of yellow, orange, scarlet and purple but also summery colors like white, pink and lavender. Also, mums come in a variety of bloom shapes and sizes: single daisy-like, flat and dense, globe-shaped, pom-pom, spidery droop, etc. I like to try them all! Mums are another autumn delight.

Maybe when you were a kid you liked to collect fallen autumn leaves? I still do. The trick is to sift through the piles of leaves to find fresh, colorful, unblemished leaves. I then dry them by pressing them between the pages of thick magazines or catalogs, telephone books in the old days, with a stack of books on top to keep light and air out. In a few days you will have fi rm, flattened, beautiful leaves to decorate the Thanksgiving table or to use for dinner table place names. The wreath is quite an important decoration for the autumnal front door. I like a brown grapevine wreath covered in fall-hued silk leaves. Add a few other decorations, such as silk mums and small pumpkin décor, and you have a welcoming door front to greet your visitors along with your scarecrow and pumpkins.

I find decorating peaceful and meditative, and after the outside decorations are in place, I bring nature inside with color and objects. I change the tablecloths from summer to fall hues. The same for my sofa pillows, cozy warm throws and candles. The

Autumn Delights flowered summery décor is cleaned and packed away and out come the gold, scarlet, russet colors and prints in heavier fabrics to enhance the feeling of fall and match the trees outside. Silk and real mums add color. Clever artsy pumpkins compete with the real thing. Small versions of scarecrows pop up here and there. A few pieces of personal holiday arts and crafts add to the ambience.

What about the auditory aspects of fall? Most of the songbirds and shorebirds head south. Now we awaken to the honking noise and chatter of geese on the creek. We watch them flying overhead in V formations and hear them honking directions to each other on their journey. And we hear them baying and cackling as they

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Buying

Autumn Delights

come into the creek for lunch or to spend the night. Autumn nights are not quiet when geese are in town.

Fall festivals abound locally and around the country. Outdoor markets, arts and craft shows, corn mazes, haunted houses and parades all contribute to the fun, joy and rapture of the season.

Some of the autumn celebrations around the world include Bonfire Night, or Guy Fawkes Day in the United Kingdom, commemorating the victory over a plot to blow up the House of Lords way back in 1605. Bonfires are lit. Fireworks shows and special foods such as meaty sausages contribute to the celebration.

Historic WADES POINT INN

In Mexico, the Dia De Los Muertos or Day of the Dead holiday in early November celebrates departed loved ones. Family and friends gather to pray for the deceased. Decorations, food and parades are customary traditions.

Germany’s Oktoberfest attracts visitors from around the world. The over two-week celebration includes days of singing, dancing, eating and drinking together. Many dress in traditional German attire and indulge in sausages, pretzels and craft beers. Since pagan times, people have given thanks at fall festivals around the world. The festivals took place after harvest, at the time of the autumnal equinox and the Harvest Moon. Family and friends gathered to celebrate a successful growing season, gave offerings, shared food, drink, camaraderie and hopes for another fruitful year ahead.

Find your delight in the autumn season with family and friends!

Bonna L. Nelson is a Bay-area writer, columnist, photographer and world traveler. She resides in Easton with her husband, John.

TIDE

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OXFORD, MD NOVEMBER 2024

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8:30 9:12 9:56 12:24 1:18 2:11 3:03 3:52 4:38 5:18 5:54 6:25 6:54 7:24 7:54 8:26 11:5410:08am 10:41am 11:20am 12:06 1:01 2:08 3:24 4:44 6:02 7:15 8:24 9:29 10:30 11:2910:54am 11:37am 12:35 1:38 2:46 3:57 5:08 6:15 7:19 8:17 9:11 10:00 10:46

SHARP’S IS. LIGHT: 46 minutes before Oxford

TILGHMAN: Dogwood Harbor same as Oxford

EASTON POINT: 5 minutes after Oxford

CAMBRIDGE: 10 minutes after Oxford

CLAIBORNE: 25 minutes after Oxford

ST. MICHAELS MILES R.: 47 min. after Oxford

WYE LANDING: 1 hr. after Oxford

ANNAPOLIS: 1 hr., 29 min. after Oxford

KENT NARROWS: 1 hr., 29 min. after Oxford

CENTREVILLE LANDING: 2 hrs. after Oxford

CHESTERTOWN: 3 hrs., 44 min. after Oxford

3 month tides at www.tidewatertimes.com 3:53 4:29 4:07 4:48 5:33 6:21 7:14 8:12 9:14 10:19 11:2212:30 1:20 2:09 2:59 3:50 4:42 5:35 6:30 7:28 8:29 9:32 10:37 11:3912:16 12:56 1:36 2:18

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Making Fall New by

Rev. Michael Valliant

In 52 autumns on the Eastern Shore, I had never seen the Northern Lights. Until this year. My girls and I, along with Holly and her girls, stood under the sky on Tuckahoe Road and marveled at the pinks in the night sky that had never been there before when we looked. Which is to say that every year, fall has a chance to be one-of-one, totally and

spectacularly new; full of things we haven’t seen or experienced before. We’ve been in our house in Easton for more than six years. And this fall, for the first time, we had two American Redstarts, migratory warblers, stop through and spend a morning in the backyard with us. The fall bird migration holds something new every year for those who pay attention.

Making Fall New

Autumn has been my favorite season for as long as I can remember. And the Eastern Shore is an ideal place to experience that shift in colors in the leaves, the crisp temperatures in the mornings and firepit weather in the evenings.

I’ve been running, hiking, and exploring Tuckahoe State Park for almost 20 years now. This year, I got engaged there, which added depth, perspective and memories to an already special place. And this fall, the park opened a brand-new trail, the 2.8-mile Sandtown Trail, which covers some of the same ground as a trail we used to run, the Little Florida Trail, but is a fresh take and cre-

ates an experience in the park that no one has had before. Sandtown is an upgrade the way Steve Austin,

television’s Six Million Dollar Man, got a bionic upgrade. It’s now my favorite trail and I hope to log some miles there this season. All it takes is a shift in perspective to add something different. Maybe

you are a beachgoer in summer, but you’ve never been to Assateague or walked the beach in Ocean City in fall. Autumn is one of the best Assateague seasons—less buggy, less crowded and on a sunny day you can sit or explore the shore without the summer heat.

Making fall new doesn’t have to be nature-based. There are festivals every weekend—maybe you haven’t made it to the Dock Dogs competition at the Waterfowl Festival in the past. Or maybe a favorite band that you haven’t been able to catch is coming through the area.

Fall can be a time to embrace creativity. The scene around us is shifting—this could be the season to take up painting or pottery, write a

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39th

Friends of Hospice Presents to benefit Talbot Hospice Festival of Trees

C arols by CandlelightPresenting

A Free Family Event • Nov. 30 • 5-7pm Harrison Street, Downtown Easton Special Guests: Buddy the Elf, Elsa, The Grinch, and Santa!

Enjoy free hot cocoa while singing along with live entertainment. Each guest receives a free candle.

poem or short story or try to begin the memoir or family history that’s been hanging around in the back of your mind. When our minds do and think different things, our days become different too.

As it gets colder, it’s also an indoor season, which for me spurs reading. Is there a book you’ve been wanting to read, but haven’t? This fall and winter, I am hoping to get deep into J.R.R. Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” lore. It’s been a book series and mythological world that has been a huge influence on me since I was a kid, but I’ve never made the time to sit down and read the books through. Introducing the movies to

my daughter and then geeking out to the series “Rings of Power” spurred me to “now is the time” action.

Cooler temperatures and a shift in the season puts energy in my bones (even if they still creak). I’ve skateboarded on and off for almost 40 years (with some significant off time), but never skated a pump

“Over the past decade, Christie Bishop has been our Realtor for selling and buying multiple Eastern Shore properties. She has impeccable knowledge of the local market and exudes patience, understanding and a positive attitude. Christie is a trusted advisor and possesses strong negotiating skills. Most of all, Christie is passionate about delivering exceptional results and building lasting relationships.”

Making Fall New

track until this year when the Town of Easton built one along with a new skatepark at the North Easton Sports Complex. I’m trying to skate it a few times a week, mornings, lunch breaks; as well as exploring the new paved trails that keep popping up all around the Shore.

What’s to stop this from being a season of fall firsts? What can I find or try or experience, with just a shift in perspective or attitude, that I haven’t before?

The church begins November with All Saints Day, which invokes a concept known as the “Communion of Saints.” This is all the people, past, present and future, who share

the faith, come to the table and engage in millennia-old practices and traditions.

Rev. Dr. Barbara A. Holmes, author, activist, mystic and theologian, puts it like this: “I am connected to

Connie Loveland

Inventory

This is the time when you need a Realtor with experience and knowledge to help you make informed decisions. ~ Connie

Making Fall New

the past and the future by the ligatures of well-lived lives, the mysteries of ‘beyondness,’ and the memories and narratives that lovingly bind and support me.”

We can dial in this idea to think about our friends and family, past, present and future, those who form our own circle of care, or we can zoom out to the whole of Creation, all who have lived, are living or will live in the world. There is a continuity and a connection between us all.

And yet, right now is the time we have, the time we are given, to experience the world and each other. And though we are intimately and essentially connected to the past and the future, as Mikey says in the movie “The Goonies”—“right now it’s our time, it’s our time down here.”

That’s an approach to the fall season, or any season. But autumn is where we are. There have been autumns before and there will be more to come, but right now is ours. What will we do with it?

Now I’m going from saints to shoes. Christmas of 2017, we picked up a pair of Merrell hiking shoes for Holly. For my birthday (April) of 2018, I got a pair of Salomon trail running shoes. Each year, we’ve added miles and experiences and seen places we haven’t seen in them. They’ve hiked around Alaska, West Virginia and New York, as well as new and favorite trails around

Maryland. This fall, they picked up new mud from Tuckahoe’s Sandtown Trail. Something they hadn’t done before, with only a short drive to a place we go frequently.

These shoes have some stories from the past and hopefully they have some stories they haven’t lived yet in the future. Right now, this fall, there is dirt to be found and trails to be tread. They, and we, have a part in making fall new.

Rev. Michael Valliant is the Minister for Adult Education and Communications at Christ Church Easton and a Deacon in the Episcopal Church. He has worked for non-profit organizations around the Mid-Shore and is a graduate of both Washington College and Chesapeake College.

Dairy Queen of Easton: 60 Years of Deliciousness

by Tracey F. Johns

Dairy Queen (DQ) in Easton, Md., has long been more than just a place for sweet treats and savory eats. It’s a community gathering spot where many young residents get their first taste of work and responsibility and a locally owned business that stands the test of time.

At the helm of this cherished establishment is Jeff Saulsbury, who has owned and operated the Easton Dairy Queen since 2007, but his journey with the store began long before then.

A Dairy Queen Legacy

Saulsbury’s story with Dairy Queen started back in June 1982, when he was a 14-year-old Easton High School student eager to find his first job. “I just knew it was a good place to work,” Saulsbury recalls. “All the teenagers wanted to work here, including me. So, I said ‘yes’ when Mr. [George] Thomas offered me a job.”

George Thomas, the former owner, was known for hiring busy, involved students like Saulsbury, understanding the importance of balancing school activities with

work. “He would always work around our schedules, whether it was sports or other commitments,” says Saulsbury. It was a trait that Saulsbury admired and continues carrying forward today with his own staff.

The connection between Saulsbury and Dairy Queen wasn’t just professional. Growing up in Easton, Dairy Queen was a part of Saulsbury’s family tradition. “Nearly

Dairy Queen

every Friday night, we’d come here for either eats or treats, or both,” he says with a smile.

From Employee to Owner

Saulsbury didn’t always expect to own the Dairy Queen. After graduating from Salisbury University with a marketing degree, he briefly worked in the seafood industry. However, when Thomas offered him a full-time general manager position, Saulsbury couldn’t resist the call back to Dairy Queen. “I wasn’t really expecting to spend the rest of my working life here, but it worked

out that way—and it worked out great.”

In 2007, Thomas was ready to retire, and Saulsbury was ready to take over the business. “I wasn’t quite ready to get out of the business,” he recalls, “and Mr. Thomas was ready to get out. So, it worked out.”

Now, 17 years into ownership, Saulsbury remains a constant presence in the store. “I’m here pretty much every day, mostly in the morning. But if something needs attention at night, I’ll come back,” he says.

“Mainly, I come in now to solve problems,” he says of owning the 60-year-old business. “If there are no problems, I might get off early. But if there’s a broken piece of equipment or an employee doesn’t show up, I have to solve it that day.”

A Family Affair

For Saulsbury, Dairy Queen has been a family affair in more ways than one. All three of his children—Lucas, Tucker and Karli— have worked at the Easton DQ, helping out during the summers when home from college. His wife, Alisha, works as a forensic mental health manager, a role that brings her much meaningfulness and complexity.

The sense of family extends to his staff as well. “I have Andrew Tiller, our assistant manager, who has been here for about 15 years, and Zoee Smith, who’s been here

Dairy Queen

for about a decade,” says Saulsbury, before listing off a dozen or so other names. “We’re like a big family, and we’re always welcoming new people in as others move on.”

Dairy Queen has a great, longstanding reputation for providing many high school students with their first jobs. “It’s a great place for high school students to start,” Saulsbury says. “A lot of them stay all through high school and even into college. It’s great to have many of them now coming back as customers with their own children.”

One longtime employee, Diana Scallio, has been a part of the Dairy Queen team since the 1970s. Though she recently retired, she still works part-time to stay busy.

“I’m glad to still have her on staff,” says Saulsbury.

“Diana feels like family in a way that extends to our customers,” he says. “She’s very knowledgeable and an important part of who we are.”

Community Commitment

Beyond the store’s walls, Saulsbury believes in giving back to the community that has supported Dairy Queen for 60 years. From sponsoring local Little League teams to helping fund Easton High School’s new skeet shooting team, Saulsbury makes it a point to stay involved. “It always comes back to

Dairy Queen

you,” he says. “The community appreciates it, and they always support us, so we feel it’s important to give back.”

That philosophy extends to supporting the military. Saulsbury uses the DQ sign to welcome local service members returning home from deployment. “We get a lot of requests for birthday and anniversary shout-outs, but we prioritize military homecomings. It’s the least we can do to show our appreciation for their service.”

Adapting to Change

Like many businesses, Dairy Queen faced significant challenges during the COVID-19 pandemic.

“The pandemic changed everything,” says Saulsbury. “You either adapt, or you close your doors.” For Dairy Queen, adaptation meant embracing mobile ordering and delivery services like DoorDash.

“We were only open for carryout from noon to seven,” Saulsbury recalls of the pandemic. “People would call in their orders, and we’d take the food out to their cars.”

He says he managed to keep most of his full-time staff employed during the pandemic, though some part-time employees left in search of more stable hours. “Now, 20 to 40% of our business comes from mobile and delivery orders,” he says, emphasizing the importance of downloading and using the Dairy

Dairy Queen

Queen mobile app for discounts and freebies. (Author note: Frequent DQ diner. I’m currently saving my points for a free ice cream cake.)

Looking to the Future

As for the future of the Easton DQ, Saulsbury hopes to pass the torch to another local. “I’d love to see someone who’s either worked here or is familiar with the store take it over,” he says. After more

than four decades in the business, Saulsbury is starting to think about retirement, though he admits he’s not quite ready to step away just yet.

In the meantime, customers can look forward to new Blizzard flavors and potential menu expansions offering more healthy options. But what won’t change is the commitment to quality and community that has defined Easton’s Dairy Queen for the past 60 years.

“My staff is the best in town,” Saulsbury says proudly. “They genuinely care about this place. It shows in their day-to-day work. The older ones mentor the younger ones, and that respect gets passed down. We have a strong team spirit that is passed down over generations of employees.”

For Saulsbury, the deliciousness of Dairy Queen goes beyond the soft-serve and chicken strips. It’s about the connections forged in a small-town treats and eats shop that has stood the test of time, and that, more than anything, is what keeps customers coming back.

Monica

Local Expertise, Global Connections

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27667 Ashby Drive, Easton, MD

Welcome to Dunrovin, an exquisite property on 11+ meticulously fenced acres, a perfect blending of luxury living and rural charm. Approximately just five miles from Route 50 and Easton, this property offers an unparalleled lifestyle for those seeking privacy and elegance. Surrounded by beautiful landscaping and scenic views of the pasture, this home features the possibility of horses, or the barn can be used as a private studio or workshop. List Price - $1,495,000

Publisher’s Note: Both Farwell children (Ben and Mary) got their start working at Dairy Queen. We would like to thank Jeff for working with our young people and their busy schedules.

Tracey Johns has worked in communications, marketing and business management for more than 30 years, including non-profit leadership. Tracey’s work is focused on public and constituent relations, along with communication strategies, positioning and brand development and project management.

The Great Sand Dunes of Henlopen

(written about 1941 by Louis

C. Wainwright

transcribed, edited and with notes by James Dawson

Between the town of Lewes, Delaware and Cape Henlopen lies a long hill of sand, over whose yielding surface it is a weary mile, perhaps to the light house.

This huge pile of sand is always gradually shifting, traveling slowly through the years on the wings of the coastal winds that often blow violently.

On its northward side the skel -

etons of smothered pine trees (and occasionally of men) are being slowly uncovered as the sand is blown onward; on the southward side of the long hill stands a stretch of pine trees awaiting slow burial by the shifting sand, and if one ascends to the top of the sand hill he may see an occasional tree top eight or ten feet above the hill top, and the heads of other trees “buried to the chin.”

Great Sand Dunes

Some of these may have succumbed and died as the sand continually moves as the tide rises about them, and strangles them; other tree tops remain green, though the bole of the tree with its lower branches is being surrounded by the rising tide of wind-blown sand.

In early colonial days there was an extensive tract of pine woods hugging the bay shore, which was given to the town of Lewes to aid in its support. Only in time of need were any of the trees felled, and save only as the drifting sands poached on the timber tract.

During the notable coal strikes of Pennsylvania’s anthracite miners, about 1903-4, when coal was unobtainable, and fuel was a prime necessity, the town gave permission to cut some of the trees.

During a century or more, the shore line and the position of the great sand dune were, through changing, but slightly altered. The sand hill had uncovered a few of its former victims, leaving a few bones of the smothered trees; and the water line seemed nearer the tall stone light house,

Legend tells of Captain Kidd and hidden treasures in the vicinity of the Cape. Whether these stories be true or not, outstanding evidence plainly declares the enrichment of the sand upon the timber tract.

From the capes to the mouth of Lewes Creek there extend meadows and numerous smaller dunes, and toward the Cape native cranberries grow. Nearer Lewes the meadows are quite level and in them are numerous shell piles that may cover anthropological matters of interest, and that certainly give evidence of

Photo by John Cole Photography

Great Sand Dunes

the abundant beds of oysters and clams in the creeks running into the bay. The Nanticoke Indians then inhabited the land, and strange as it may seem, remnants of the tribe still are to be found; indeed quite a number, and I am told that some fifty years (more or less) ago an Indian was pioneer on the soft crab industry and owned a steamer about Indian River near Rehoboth Bay,

to the Greek faces such as that of Herodotus or others, and was cut intaglio on a white stone almost like marble and about 1 3/4 x 2 3/4 inches.

Just a head or bust. The workmanship was of high order, though not equal to Grecian skill.

So much for the meadows and vicinity of the great dune which itself has been notable from old times, and which has been commercialized in recent times, its sand shifted and graded, and shipped even to Washington D.C. for building.

The digging of wells and railway cuts in the vicinity of Lewes has occasionally bared “a find” of interest. The most remarkable one with which I was acquainted was found in digging a well and consisted of a bearded face somewhat similar

A slowly creeping hill a half a mile away or more in length, thirty feet high and half a furlong, perhaps, broad is no common sight.

The sand dune on Lewes meadplumbing and geothermal.

ows extends from the creek to the old light house whose gleams stream out far to sea. The light house is perhaps 100 or 150 feet from the water’s edge. In bygone days it was quite a distance from the ocean’s brim, but with the years it seems there was a slow subsidence of the land so that the ocean yearly approached the dune which terminated abruptly near the towering light house.

Thirty feet from the light house was a building for the keeper of the light house. The circling winds ever kept a passage way between the light house and the high dune. The wind carried the sand against the window panes till they appeared as ground glass, such as is seen in the electric light bulbs. The art of sand

etching could have originated from observing such a phenomenon. The wind also blew away the sand from the shore and of the dune, so that the imagination could make it appear that the hollowed end of the mound played about the lofty round tower of the light house as a gaff about a mast.

The coast line has changed so much in a hundred years that the

Great Sand Dunes

light house seems to have gotten restless and had wandered down toward the beach and soon may have joined the bathers who dip their feet in the great deep’s surf.

Here I may introduce a happening which in the last two decades, and which I did not know at the time when the paper was first written.

What was suggested above became a fact; the Atlantic made inroads on the beach year by year. The lighthouse did not with the bathers lave its feet in the surge, but its foundation being undermined it fell down into the ocean. How nearly the tides now rise to the great dune I do not at present know.

For the sake of discovery or review, several times I walked over the long hill to the light house.

Once I took with me a young man from Pennsylvania. He was

accustomed to climb mountains, but found a mountain of sand quite another preposition. He returned hone red and perspiring and almost in collapse.

His progress in sand reminded of the storied frog which jumped from the well at the rate of two feet forward and slipped one foot backward at every jump.

Walking in sand is an art which one needs to learn if he would journey comfortably and with reasonable dispatch. Perhaps a camel is the only creature which can traverse sand stretches without having attended some preparatory school where the art is taught.

Perhaps the most exhilarating experience in traversing the great dunes at Lewes lies in coming almost suddenly upon the extended geographical view which may be had, as one looks from the mouth of the bay toward Philadelphia, where literally, actually there lies spread before the eyes the bay and its contiguous regions even as on a huge map, and as extensive as one’s powers of vision can apprehend.

The fine bay spreads its green waters to view and its shape reminds of a gigantic pear with its large end toward the ocean.

Just around the cape plunge the waves of the Atlantic whose eastern boundary is the horizon where the great ships drop over the verge.

The tumultuous waters at the mouth of the bay where the out-

Great Sand Dunes

flowing tides meet the roll of the ocean’s billows, appear as changeful hills in constant formation, rising in roughly comical peaks, tarrying tremblingly a moment, and then while in the act of subsistence, replaced with a swelling hill of water. There the waters do not roll in sidewise assault upon the shore, but plunge head on against one another; and if there be some wind they leap in tremendous waves toward the sky, not in lateral sweep, but with the upward plunge of collision. In very rough weather one cannot attain to such a favorable position for outlook, but whenever one can

ascent to the summit of the vast dune during stormy weather, a stupendous and fascinating spectacle awaits his review; and not the least interesting of surprises that await him is the dignified poise of the massive vessels amid the tumult of mountains of water. They are not stampeded nor tossed hysterically as do the smaller craft. but hold the course in a dignified determination that astonishes the beholder. As one gazes from the hill upon the titanic struggle of the great waters striving for the mastery he sees the sublimity of conflict on the great deep and stands in awe before its dread grandeur. Though he beholds many a hill of water rising and bursting

Great Sand Dunes

and crashing in tumult, and these may seem in wild frenzy of panic rout, the greater impression is that of awe at beholding the grandeur of sustained strength and power without trepidation or panic, as they exert strength in mighty movement.

It is some twelve miles across the bay from the great sand dune to Cape May. Both Cape May and Cape Henlopen have large and tall lighthouses, giving friendly guidance to the mariners approaching Delaware Bay.

On halcyon days and clear, that which adventurers discover in some what different, but still is sublime and has many points of interest. The adventurer stands amid the three immensities and strains to view the great beyond and a thrill of delight commingled with awe pervades his being. And, too, he notes true with winged ships, some a far and about to drop over the verge; some that are nearer appear as dauntless gulf with hovering wings.

Perchance he may see the raucous-voiced ospreys plying their trade as fishers near the coast, and it may be he will see the great eagles, two or three, which visit the capes and comb the beaches.

These may fish a little while they wait for the diligent fish hawk to announce with a cry the seizure of a prize.

Just around the capes a series

of seaside resorts extended which were filled with visitors every summer. Among the early visitors to the region were two or three familiar named Osprey, who seemed to make it a point, to arrive year by year, about the time that “the sun crossed the line,” and always were they received by the fishermen with a cordial welcome for to them the arrival of these families had become so closely associated with the return the desired schools of various fish, that they looked upon the coming of the Osprey families as a sign that the spring school session among the various fish were begun; indeed legend had begun to attack to these old families by reputation, now it almost seemed to many of the fisher folk that the families by some charm brought the trout and shad and other fish with them, which was of course only one of nature’s coincidences, and no Merlin spell whatever.

Sublimity! Immensity! Eternity! Infinity!

Lofty emotions life the mind as

one looks afar to the horizon or down upon the heaving deep. Massive are the thoughts which arise in he bosom, when one looks out upon the deep from such an advantageous position.

Notes by J.D.: Built in 1767, the original Cape Henlopen lighthouse that Wainwright saw was felled by a nor’easter on April 13, 1926. A replica was built in nearby downtown Rehoboth in 1924 which was demolished in 1996 and replaced. The beach is now a state park with 6 miles of coastline. You can visit the WWII observation tower there, however, the Point is closed for most of the spring and summer to aid threatened and endangered beach

nesters and migratory shorebirds. Fish hawk is the colloquial name for the osprey.

Rehoboth, Delaware is not to be confused with Rehobeth in Somerset Co., Maryland. Rehoboth is an Old Testament word from Genesis 26:22 meaning “open space”, “broad places”, or “room for all” so the name was taken in Delaware for the religious camp meetings once held there. The Maryland Rehobeth was named for William Stevens’ plantation “Rehobeth” from the 1660s, which itself was presumably a misspelling of the biblical Rehoboth.

James Dawson is the owner of Unicorn Bookshop in Trappe.

Photos by Karina Dixon

Easton

Map and History

The County Seat of Talbot County. Established around early religious settlements and a court of law, Historic Downtown Easton is today a centerpiece of fine specialty shops, business and cultural activities, unique restaurants, and architectural fascination. Treelined streets are graced with various period structures and remarkable homes, carefully preserved or restored. Because of its historical significance, historic Easton has earned distinction as the “Colonial Capitol 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/.

Dorchester Map and History

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/.

"Welcome to our Roadhouse Bar & Grill, where the open road meets mouthwatering flavors and good ol’ fashioned hospitality. In the heart of Preston, Caroline County, we are not just about great food; we’re about creating great memories" ~ Ian & Elinor Fleming

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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 .

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TIDEWATER GARDENING

by K. Marc Teffeau, Ph.D.

November Necessities

As I have mentioned in the past, fall is a favorite season. The autumn leaves are falling, there is a crispness in the air and the colors are beautiful. Unfortunately, in early November we usually get a rainstorm that removes most of the colorful leaves from the trees and shrubs. This event ushers in the bleak winter landscape that we see until next March. November is not the time to hang up our gardening gloves and tools. There is still work to be done in the garden and landscape. Gardens, like houses, need special at-

Tidewater Gardening

tention to get them through the winter months. By investing a little time and effort now, you will be rewarded next spring.

In the vegetable garden, a good cleanup is needed. If you have a cold frame, plant lettuce and hardy

construction

vegetables, such as beets, cabbage and spinach, in it for winter or early spring crops.

If you have an asparagus bed, now is the time to trim the decaying ferns. After this first frost, prune the ferns down to 2-inch stubs. Do a good cleanup of the bed, removing dead and diseased ferns, and apply a 4- to 5-inch layer of mulch to control weeds. Wait until early spring to apply fertilizer to the bed.

November is a good time to apply an organic soil conditioner to the vegetable garden. It is too late to seed a cover crop, so compost is a good alternative. Aged manure is also a good source for soil conditioner. Apply it now to the garden soil, and till it under. Aged manure, especially horse manure, with straw can be a source of weed seed. Composting the manure before application can reduce the number of viable seeds. I once made the mistake of applying horse manure and straw to the vegetable garden one fall. In the spring I had the most beautiful crop of lamb’s quarter!

Tidewater Gardening

If you have a small garden plot, one method of non-chemical weed control is to spread manure on the surface, lightly mist it and then cover it with a clear sheet of plastic. There will be enough heat under the plastic generated by solar radiation to warm up the manure and get the weeds seeds to germinate. When you see that the seeds have germinated, remove the clear plastic and let the frost kill the weed seedlings. Then plow the manure under into the soil. If your garden site is not subject to wind or water erosion, you can leave the soil uncovered and let the cold kill some of the weed seeds. This does not kill all the seeds, but it helps with some of the more tender ones.

Fall is the best time for growing cool season crops like broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower and brussels sprouts. If you planted these crops in August, some may be ready for harvesting, depending on the variety. If there is a mild fall, they can grow through December. After one

mild fall, I was cutting broccoli on Christmas Day.

For broccoli, remember to leave the plant in the garden after cutting out the main flower head. Smaller side shoots that you can harvest later will grow from the stem joints and the leaves. If a hard frost or cold temperatures are forecast, be prepared to cover the plants with a floating row cover (FRC) like Reemay® to protect the plants at night and extend the season. I installed PVC pipe hoops over my raised beds and attach the flowing row cover to it with clips. During the warm days, you can open up the FRC to expose the plants to the sun.

In the flower department, you should have pulled out all the annual flowers in the flower bed and

Tidewater Gardening

disposed of them, especially if they had disease issues. When chrysanthemums are through flowering, remove the stalks at once within a few inches of the ground. This will help root development and make them send out vigorous sprouts in the spring.

If you are interested in propagating the mums, lift some of the plant and heel them into a cold frame. Plants for potting can be propagated from the side sprouts, which will develop next May. Remember that many perennials may be planted or divided in fall and replanted. Make sure you get them

Custom Yearly Programs Mosquito and

Disease and Fungal Control

in the ground early—no later than mid-November—to establish their roots before the ground freezes. Apply mulch over the perennial beds after the first or second hard frost to prevent the soil from heaving during the winter and exposing the plant crown and roots to dryness and cold temperatures.

Check on your fall plantings of pansies and flowering cabbage and kale. Remove any dead or dying leaves to keep the foliage and flowers in top shape. If you planted fall snapdragons, they will still flower until a hard frost.

Don’t forget that there is still time to plant spring bulbs in the landscape. I would recommend that you try to get them in the ground before the middle of the month. That way, they will have enough chilling temperatures to help them form the flower buds for next spring. It is important that the bulbs be planted while the soil is still somewhat warm in or-

Tidewater Gardening

der to promote good root growth. A good, large root system will be produced this fall for next spring. A large root system is essential for the absorption of water and nutrients necessary for the production of flowers and leaves. If you still intend to plant bulbs, it will be necessary for you to mulch the soil in order to keep a constant soil temperature. The application of three to four inches of leaves, pine needles, straw, or compost over the planting of bulbs after the first or second hard frost will help insulate the soil from the cold.

When planting bulbs, make certain that you are planting them

deeply enough. Large bulbs should be planted five to six inches or deeper, while small bulbs should be planted three to four inches deep. Many gardeners complain about the decline in flowering of tulip and daffodil beds over time. This is the result of the bulbs being planted too close to the soil surface. As a result, energy is devoted to bulb production rather than flower production, so flowers get smaller and smaller. Then, in a few years, you have to thin out the bulbs and replant. If you plant them on a 10- to 12-inch spacing, you will maintain your flower display and not have to thin later on.

If you have houseplants outside, you should have moved them back indoors by this time. When placing plants around the home, remember, as a general rule, plants with thick leaves can take lower light levels than those with thin leaves. Keep an eye out for spider mites on your houseplants; they thrive in dry air. At the first sign of any insect infestation, isolate your plant. Several thorough washings of the leaves with plain water may bring them under control. If not, apply an appropriate insecticide and follow the instructions on the label.

During the cooler temperatures and shorter days of winter, the growth of most houseplants slows. Unless plants are grown under an artificial light source that is left on 16 hours per day, new growth will

be minimal until spring. Reduce fertilization and water until late April or May, when new growth resumes. If you have African violets, they do best when potted in small pots. A good general rule is to use a pot one-third the diameter of the plant. To humidify African violets, surround the pot with moist peat contained in a second pot. Also make sure that you water the plants from the bottom of the pot. The quickest way to rot out the top part of the plant is to water from above and often.

As the days get cooler, a number of outside critters try to come inside. Besides mice, we also have insect invaders like boxelder and squash bugs. Boxelder bugs are black-and-red insects about 5/8 of an inch long that resemble stink bugs. Each fall, they congregate in large numbers on female boxelder trees and on the sunny side of houses near these trees.

Boxelder bugs frequently invade the house through openings around windows and doors. This is when they become a real problem. Although they don’t bite, eat any stored foods or bother house plants, their presence in large numbers makes them a real nuisance. When crushed they also leave a red stain that is difficult to remove from fabrics. If you need to control boxelder bugs you can vacuum them up inside or spray them with an insecticidal soap on the outside of the house. Make sure that all windows and doors are properly caulked to keep the critters out.

Happy Gardening!

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.

St. Michaels Map and History

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/.

Election Day by A.M. Foley

Nobody pretends that democracy is perfect . . . Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.

(Winston Churchill, November 11, 1947)

It’s always a treat when Jim Dawson brings us an excerpt from Rev. Louis Wainwright’s journal, as in September’s Tidewater Times. That report on Deal Island’s 1880s elections included some delicious phrases I may be tempted to borrow. I’m not the wordsmith Jim’s preacher was, but let me report that even today, here on Elliott Island, Election Day stands apart from everyday life—to borrow a phrase—like “tabasco on oysters.”

Dorchester County is Maryland’s largest land mass (especially at low tide). Over years, Dorchester’s been sliced and diced into different electoral districts, sometimes homogeneous, sometimes diverse. As Precinct 3 of the “Straits District” from 1852 to 1914, Elliott Island was among kindred spirits, who primarily made their livings on the water. In 1912, island men voted overwhelmingly Democratic, 32 to 9 for Woodrow Wilson over

Election Day

William Howard Taft. Before the next election, Maryland had reshuffled District boundaries. Currently Elliott Island is in a diverse District which reaches northward inland from Fishing Bay into farm country.

The mode of electing County Commissioners also changed. Formerly elections were at-large, so this small, remote island received little attention until 1954, when Austin Gray ran successfully from the island for Commissioner. Gray was active in the transportation business and Democratic party, and he traveled countywide as a well-known church soloist. Despite

the smallness of his home community, he was elected in 1954. That’s when Elliott Island Road beyond Vienna began to get paved. After one term, he lost to a candidate from a more populous area. Roadwork stopped. Then Dorchester began electing commissioners from each district separately. He was reelected. By the time that term ended, the 18-mile road from Vienna was paved end-to-end and a sturdy bridge led onto the island, where even four byways got paved. Through every reshuffle, Election Day resembled the Fourth of July—a great day for getting dressed up and seeing everybody. Ladies held bake sales for the church and preacher. Men congre-

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Oxford Map and History

Oxford is one of the oldest towns in Maryland. Although already settled for perhaps 20 years, Oxford marks the year 1683 as its official founding, for in that year Oxford was first named by the Maryland General Assembly as a seaport and was laid out as a town. In 1694, Oxford and a new town called Anne Arundel (now Annapolis) were selected the only ports of entry for the entire Maryland province. Until the American Revolution, Oxford enjoyed prominence as an international shipping center surrounded by wealthy tobacco plantations. Today, Oxford is a 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/.

gated at stores and harbors. According to Reverend Wainwright, down in Somerset County rural stores laid in stocks of coveted, water-resistant, leather boots, pre -

pared for wily lowlanders to barter with politicians, “votes for boots.” No record of such pricey horsetrading survives on Elliott Island, though it’s said a man could earn five dollars a day for delivering voters to the polls. It’s also said “Big John” Hurley, buying oysters down at the harbor, shared a swig from his bottle with men who voted to his liking.

One islander whose father was interested in politics, Ralph Foxwell, Jr. (1921-2019), had a sharp memory reaching back almost to women gaining Suffrage. He once reminisced, “In the cities they still have what they call ‘walking around money.’ . . . Down home, outside the polls they couldn’t elec -

tioneer past a certain point. They had to stay back of these signs if they wanted to talk to somebody

and tell them how to vote. Daddy never had a car, but he had charge of somebody who did. He arranged rides to go get those who didn’t have a way, or who normally wouldn’t bother to walk out. I don’t think Austin Gray gave whiskey to anybody, but he made sure they got out.”

In more recent history, when I came to Elliott Island, women not only voted but served as “election judges,” confirming voter eligibility at the polls. They directed voters into “levered voting machines”—cutting-edge technology since 1892. The machines were impregnable-looking contraptions the size of telephone booths, containing numerous rows of little le -

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vers, each lever labeled with a candidate’s name and office sought. Closing the booth’s privacy curtain unlocked levers. After flipping them to record his choices, a voter reopened the curtain to exit. Opening the curtain sounded a reassuring clang, signaling that votes were locked in, and levers reset. Selections remained secret, a great advance over the days of public voicevoting.

Chief Judge Nora Foxwell presided over many terms, along with her sister Elma and other of their contemporaries. Luckily, by the time computers replaced weighty booths, our long-serving, elderly Election Day judges had retired. Aside from failing eyesight, they were unacquainted with computers, and

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fatigued by long days of polling. (Before dawn each election, waterman Glen McNaughton came to Miss Nora’s Store, put her easy chair on his head, and carried it to the polling place for the duration.) I’m proud to say I served as an election judge myself for quite a few contests, in the 1980-90 era. Elliott Island’s 18th Precinct did not have the longest voter roll, but we always had Dorchester’s highest turnout percentage. As my friend Eva would said, “We’re little, but we’re loud.”

Once upon a time, only white men owning fifty acres of land or fifty Pounds Sterling were eligible to vote. Maryland first decreed Elliott Island’s polling place be “the plantation of John Reed, Esquire, called Reeds Grove”—many miles above the island via the Nanticoke River. As Dorchester became more populous and participation more accessible, Election Districts increased from three to five. In 1830 island polling moved to “Mrs. Lake’s house,” in 1852 to “Mr. Todd’s.” Finally, in 1898 Elliott Is -

land gained Precinct status, voting at Captain Wes Moore’s store. Captain Moore’s original store was a chandlery on Elliott Creek, but he built another location inland, with a second story called Moore’s Hall. In the era of paper ballots, elections were held upstairs, but not so after voting booths. (Islanders built substantial boats at home in their yards, routinely rolling them down the road for launching, but launching weighty voting booths upstairs would have been a problem.) In any case, the hall ultimately had to be abandoned when the second floor collapsed. Moore’s Hall was the Red Men’s lodge, and also the site of plays and one crowded community event too many.

Reverend Wainwright writes of Deal Island crowds drawn to hear distinguished politicians. The major issue in the 1880s was Tariff, said to be an evil that “puts its hand in every pocket.” Making this point to largely self-sufficient Deal Islanders, high tariff was denounced for raising the price of

salt, matches, and (pointedly) boot leather. Along with the dignitaries, coat-tailing, would-be “big guns” returned to their origins hoping to capture votes of kinfolk. Similarly, an Elliott man complained in the store of a cousin who’d emigrated to town, but came “vote-dredging” after ignoring relations for fouryears at a stretch: “Up the road in town, he won’t look at us. Then when he’s runnin’ for office, he’s down here goin’ door-to-door and it’s ‘Aunt Leila this’ and ‘Cousin Sherwood that’.”

No speechifying has been heard on the island in decades, but Dorchester’s official Board of Election sends bi-partisan inspectors every Election Day to assure polling sites comply with regulations. One year during my service as a judge, Election Day coincided with

high tide on the access road across the marsh, causing an inspector to grouse, “The county’s gonna pay to wash my car!” Presumably, travel time and inconvenience on bi-annual inspections contribute to periodic attempts to remove the island polling place many miles to town. So far, attempts have not succeeded [knock wood].

A happier memory of serving as judge relates to fine dining. This sustained us for work days stretching fourteen or fifteen hours. I remember the first time a stranger from “up on land” was sent as a substitute to sit in with three lady elders. Unfamiliar with local customs, he actually brought his own food. The highlights of my own service were probably when our panel included one of the Nause-Waiwash Band of Indians—descendants of original regional population. Then their late Chief Sewell Winterhawk Fitzhugh treated us to homemade Indian fry-bread tacos. That said, no disrespect is intended to other years of roast turkey—the national bird, so appropriate to November. Author Theodore White followed

the knife-edge contest between John Kennedy and Richard Nixon, throughout what he called “the long fall campaign.” Alas, a campaign now can grind for years. But our Election Day itself has long been the envy of the world. In his book The Making of a President, 1960, White could accurately assert of our elections:

“Heroes and philosophers, brave men and vile, have since Rome and Athens tried to make this particular manner of transfer of power work effectively; no people has succeeded at it better, or over a longer period of time, than the Americans. Yet as the transfer of this power takes place, there is nothing to be seen except an occasional line outside a church or school, or a fi le of people fidgeting in the rain, waiting to enter the booths. No bands play on election day, no troops march, no guns are readied, no conspirators gather in secret headquarters. The noise and the blare, the bands and the screaming, the pageantry and oratory of the long fall campaign, fade on election day. All the planning is over, all effort spent. Now the candidates must wait.”

Forty-some years ago, A.M. Foley swapped the Washington, D.C. business scene for a writing life on Elliott Island, Maryland. Tidewater Times kindly publishes Foley’s musings on regional history and life in general.

Talking Turkey

Around the family table in the quiet, unhurried atmosphere of a Thanksgiving dinner, conversation can linger on through dessert and well into the second cup of coffee. It is here, without the interruptions of a busy restaurant, that our children learn their company manners

and, after being excused from the table, can wander off for conversations of their own. I learned early on that having little never meant having less. Personal touches such

as a simple table bright with garden flowers or an heirloom vase would make the meal special. The china may not be showpiece quality, but it gleams with meaning. From the moment we smooth the cloth, our everyday table—once piled with homework—can become a place to build fond memories.

Perhaps your family is small. Perhaps only half of your family eats meat. Perhaps you simply don’t enjoy leftovers. The point is that there are any number of reasons you might have for not wanting to roast an entire turkey, but that doesn’t mean you should be deprived of juicy meat, crispy skin and turkeysaturated stuffing!

Cooking a turkey breast is far easier than cooking a whole turkey. As soon as the breast is 150°F, you can pull it out of the oven and let it rest.

Since I like stuffing with my turkey, and this method makes it easy—just place the breast on top of a pan of stuffing and place it into a hot oven. About halfway through cooking, the stuffing may threaten to burn. Remove the pan, transfer the turkey to a rack set on a rimmed baking sheet, and put it back in the oven to finish roasting. Once the turkey is cooked, pour the pan juices over the stuffing and put the stuffing back in the oven for one final crisp-up blast while the turkey rests.

Bumpuses!!!!

Sage and Sausage Stuffing

2 pounds (about 2 loaves) highquality sandwich bread or soft Italian or French bread, cut into 3/4inch cubes

8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter or 1/4 cup olive oil and 1/4 cup butter

1-1/2 pounds sage sausage, casings removed

1 large onion (about 2 cups), finely

chopped

4 large stalks celery (about 2 cups), finely chopped

2 medium garlic cloves, minced

1/4 cup sage, minced (or 2 teaspoons dried)

4 cups homemade or low-sodium

chicken or turkey stock

3 large eggs

1/4 cup fresh parsley, minced

Sea salt and freshly ground pepper to taste (if needed)

Adjust the oven racks to the lower and upper-middle positions. Preheat the oven to 275°F. Spread the bread evenly on 2 rimmed baking sheets. Stagger the pans on the oven racks and bake, rotating the pans and stirring the bread cubes sev-

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eral times, until the bread is dried, about 45–50 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow to cool. Increase the oven temperature to 350°F.

Heat the butter in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat for about 2 minutes (don’t allow the butter to brown. Add the sausage, breaking up into fine pieces with a wooden spoon, then cook through, about 6–8 minutes. Add the onion, celery, garlic and sage and cook until the vegetables are softened, about 10 minutes. Remove from the heat and add half of the stock.

Whisk the remaining stock, eggs and 3 tablespoons of the parsley in a medium bowl. Stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, slowly pour the egg mixture into the sausage

mixture. Add the bread cubes and fold gently until evenly mixed.

Easy Herb-Roasted Turkey Breast with Stuffing

If you prefer a juicier, crisper breast, dry-brine and air-dry it overnight.

1 (4–5 pound) bone-in, skin-on tur -

key breast, patted dry 1 recipe Classic Sage and Sausage Stuffing

3 tablespoons butter at room temperature

3 tablespoons fresh parsley, minced 2 tablespoons fresh oregano, minced

1 tablespoon kosher salt 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

Fill the cavity under the turkey breast. Transfer the remaining stuffing to a buttered 9 x 13-inch baking dish, then place the turkey on top. With your hands, carefully separate the turkey skin from the meat, starting at the bottom of the breast and being careful not to tear the skin. Combine the butter with

the parsley and oregano in a small bowl. Add the salt and pepper and stir until mixed. Rub the mixture evenly over and under the turkey skin.

Roast until the stuffing starts to brown, about 45 minutes. Remove from the oven and transfer the turkey to a wire rack set on a foillined rimmed baking sheet. Return the turkey to the oven and continue roasting until the skin is golden brown and crisp and the thickest part of the meat, near the bone, registers 150°F on an instant-read thermometer, about 30 minutes longer. Remove from the oven, transfer to a large plate and rest for 20

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minutes. Pour the pan juices over the stuffing. Return the stuffing to the oven and cook until it is golden brown on top and registers 160°F, about 15 minutes. Carve the turkey breast, arrange over the stuffing and serve.

Family Holiday Sauerkraut

Sauerkraut is a family tradition that’s been with me forever. It was handed down and is divine with gravy and piled high between the turkey and dressing, so you get a bite of kraut with every forkful. When new friends come to our home for holiday meals, they are always skeptical. Once they try it, it also becomes their favorite. You can even savor it the next day in a

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sweet-and-sour sandwich with turkey, cranberry sauce and a dab of mayo.

2 32-ounce bottles of sauerkraut

Chicken broth

1 large yellow onion, sliced in rings

1-1/2 tablespoons caraway seeds

1 tablespoon of dill weed

1 teaspoon pepper

Place the sauerkraut in a pot. Pour chicken broth over the sauerkraut until just covered. Add onion, caraway seeds, dill weed and pepper. Stir together, place on stove at medium temp and cover pot.

Cook and stir occasionally for several hours for the best result of blended flavors. (It really only needs an hour probably, but we love the smell along with the turkey cooking.) When ready to serve, drain the juice from sauerkraut. You can add little pieces of dark or light turkey, and also pour on gravy to make it creamy. (If you’re lucky, you’ll have enough left over

so you can enjoy a turkey sauerkraut cranberry sandwich the next day!)

Potatoes Au Gratin

4 potatoes, I like Yukon or red 1/2 cup grated Parmesan Cheese

1/2 cup grated Gruyère or Swiss Cheese (Switzerland)

4 tablespoons butter

Salt and freshly ground pepper

1/4 cup heavy cream

Preheat oven to 375°F. Peel the potatoes and cut them into thin slices, then wash them thoroughly with cold water to remove excess starch. Pat them dry. Butter a heatproof baking dish and place a layer of the sliced potatoes on the bottom. Cut the butter into small pieces and put some of it on the potatoes, then season them with salt and pepper and sprinkle some of the cheeses over it, continue this until all of the potatoes are used, finishing it with the cheese. Then pour the heavy cream over it and cover the dish with aluminum foil. Bake in the preheated oven for about one hour or until potatoes are soft (this depends on

what type of dish you use). Remove the aluminum foil ten minutes before serving so the top the potatoes can brown. Serve immediately from the baking dish.

Note: Count about one potato per person. If you are in a hurry, you can parboil the potatoes slices (put the potato slices in a saucepan, cover them with cold water and bring it to a boil for 3 minutes). Don’t bake until ready for them!

Green Beans

2 pounds fresh green bean, cleaned and cut in half 3 tablespoons chopped shallots 2 tablespoons, grass fed butter Sea salt and freshly ground pepper 1/4 cup water

After cleaning the beans, put them in cold water with some ice cubes for about 5 minutes to make them crisp, then strain in a colander. In a heavy saucepan, heat the butter, add the shallot and sauté until they are lightly browned, then add the beans and season with salt and pepper. Stir them constantly

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with a big wooden spoon, which is a favorite tool in the kitchen, for about 2 minutes. Add the water and cover the pan immediately and continue cooking for another 2 minutes, shaking the pan occasionally.

Tip: You can steam green beans for 2 minutes and put in refrigerator, then stir fry later to reheat them.

Aunt Mary’s Sweet Potato Pie

Makes 1 Pie

1 unbaked pie shell

1 very large, raw sweet potato or 15 oz. can sweet potato (see How to Prepare Sweet Potatoes for Pie)

3/4 cup brown sugar

3 eggs

1 cup heavy cream

1/2 cup whole milk

1 teaspoon pumpkin spice blend

Set the oven rack in the middle position. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Place prepared sweet potatoes in

the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. With mixer running on low, add brown sugar and eggs, one at a time. Add heavy cream and milk. Do not overbeat. Add pumpkin spice blend. Pour batter into pie shell. Bake for 45–50 minutes, or until a tester inserted into pie comes out clean. The center of the pie should wiggle a bit. Cool 2 to 3 hours on a rack. Serve with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. Store covered with plastic wrap in the refrigerator.

How to Prepare Sweet Potatoes for Pie

Select large sweet potatoes, prick them with a fork and place them on a foil-covered (shiny side up) metal

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baking pan that has been coated with olive oil. Bake in a 400°F oven for 1 hour. Place the baking pan on a cooling rack. Carefully cut the hot sweet potatoes in half lengthwise so that they will cool more quickly. When potatoes are cool enough to handle, scoop out the insides (discard the skins) and place them in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade. Weigh the sweet potato pulp after scooping it. Process until potatoes are soft and fluffy.

Karo Nut Pie

Makes 1 pie

A really good pecan pie that

deserves a place of honor on your Thanksgiving table.

1 cup Karo light or dark corn syrup

3 eggs

1 cup sugar

2 T. butter, melted

1 t. Spice Islands Pure Vanilla Extract.

1-1/2 cups pecans

1 (9-inch) unbaked or frozen deepdish pie crust

Preheat oven to 350°.

In a mixing bowl, mix corn syrup, eggs, sugar, butter, and vanilla using a spoon. Stir in pecans. Pour filling into pie crust.

Bake on center rack of oven until center reaches 200°F and springs back when tapped lightly, about 55 to 70 minutes.

Pamela Meredith, formerly Denver’s NBC Channel 9 Children’s Chef, has taught both adult and children’s cooking classes. For more of Pam’s recipes, visit the Story Archive tab at tidewatertimes.com.

All Quiet on the Sound A novel by

B. P. Gallagher

Chapter 15: Fraught Waters

Echoes of the fight reverberated. Except for Leon stumping downstairs sometime after dark to use the commode—and to retrieve the bottle of scotch he’d started in on earlier, by the sound of it—the Higgins siblings kept to their rooms for the rest of the evening. Come morning, the scrapple and beans Maggie had been preparing for dinner sat congealed and forgotten on the dining room table, minus a few bites stolen by Dougal. Earl and Maggie

cleared the dishes while Leon slept off his hangover. Earl feared any progress their brother had made toward cutting back on drinking was a moot point after nursing a bottle overnight.

When Leon emerged from his room a couple hours later, he made no mention of last night’s events. Only the purpling hematoma beneath his right eye and the shiner he’d handed Earl in the bargain recalled them. There’d been talk of hunting today before the blowup, but it’d be a late start at this point

All Quiet

and Earl thought it best to let sleeping dogs lie. They had reached an uneasy ceasefire, and he was loath to break it by bringing up thwarted plans. Besides, they all needed to collect themselves for what was to come.

Hard to say what ripples Leon’s careless tongue might have stirred up, how far and quick they would radiate. If his telling was accurate— and Earl didn’t dare press him on it again—then Leon hadn’t made any explicit admission of guilt, just overplayed his hand. Bringing up the pastor’s swamped truck unprompted was bad, no doubt, but explicable given Dave Howell had known about it as early as Christmas. Far worse was allowing the deputy to goad him into suggesting a motive for Peter Calhoun’s disappearance. Deputy Calhoun was likely even now reporting back to his family and the duly elected Sheriff. Best to assume the Higginses would have eyes on them in some form or other from here on out, at least until folks forgot about this sordid affair. If they ever did. Like Deputy Calhoun claimed, Shore folks had long memories for such things.

In light of these developments, Maggie’s budding dalliance with Jonah Everett began to seem a riskier and worthier pursuit than ever. Again Earl was forced to confront with grudging admiration the

shrewd timing with which she’d engineered the relationship. He couldn’t decide how much to credit her machinations, nor how much he wanted to. He was learning much about his sister’s character that surprised him, and some of which frightened him. When life gives you lemons, though—or in this case, when sisters strike up with spies…

“Gonna take Dougal for a walk,” said Leon after a cup of coffee. “See if Clara’s around.”

“Okay,” said Maggie. “But don’t let him roll in anything down by the water. He’s taken to that lately.”

Leon shrugged and headed out the door, looking forlorn as he followed the puppy down the lane. When he’d gone, Earl said, “I need you to talk with that boy Jonah, Maggs, the sooner the better. We ain’t got much time to get out ahead of this, and we need some idea what the Calhouns are thinking or we’re good as blind.”

“I know. I’m gonna see him on Monday.”

“Gotta be sooner than that. I’d guess that deputy went right back last night and held one of them Calhoun powwows you were telling us about, or this morning if not last night. Either way, if ‘Higgins’ wasn’t on their tongues before, it sure as hell is now. We need to find out what’s comin’ our way.”

Maggie screwed up her forehead in consternation. “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe Clara’s up for a ride into

town. She sometimes runs errands to the Shore on weekends in her Pop Pop’s truck. I guess we’ll know if she’s around once Leon gets back with Dougal.”

“Sounds good, but be careful. And Maggs? Keep this thing about Jonah quiet from Leon, okay?”

She hesitated. “He’s just scared, Earl. Same as me.”

“Shit, sis, I’m scared too. Scared as hell. That’s why we all need to keep our lips buttoned up tight. Difference is Leon makes big mistakes when he’s scared, bigger’n we can afford. So for all our sakes, let’s keep this between the two of us.”

“I guess.” Her frown deepened.

“But I’ll need your help keeping it secret, and that means you two gotta make up. Get him outta the house today—off the island, if you can.”

“Fine. I’ll bury the hatchet if he’s willing, but you take care of the rest. Secret-like, hear me? It’s for the best.”

Maggie nodded, looking more dejected than ever. Part of Earl, the brotherly instinct that always got him accused of doting, wanted to comfort her. Another could barely restrain the impulse to curse her for getting them into this impossible situation. The ice thinned beneath their feet, and she’d drawn them out onto its splintering center. Worse still, the anniversaries approached. Never a happy season for the Hig-

gins household at the best of times, and this one as fraught as any they’d ever weathered.

Leon’s temperament was much improved for a breath of fresh air and a walk with Clara, opening the door for Earl to make amends upon his return. Earl’s ambivalence toward doing so was immaterial. He could be the bigger man in service of protecting the family, even if that meant swallowing his pride and shitting out an apology.

“Look, Leon,” Earl began. This would be a bitter pill to swallow indeed, while his anger yet simmered and his right eye smarted. But it was for the best, like he’d told Maggie. “I shouldn’a clocked you in the face, even if you did hit me first. I

know I hit a lot harder’n you and I’m quicker besides, so that wasn’t fair.”

Leon bristled, and out of the corner of his eye Earl saw Maggie shake her head in exasperation. Maybe that was a little backhanded. Clearing his throat, he tried a different tack.

“And you ain’t stupid, even though you didn’t do us no favors mouthin’ off to the deputy. Sounds like he was stooping about as low as a man can to draw it outta you.” Maggie nodded him on. “So it ain’t your fault. We’ll deal with what comes, and in the meantime let’s put our differences aside. How ‘bout it?” There. That would have to be good enough.

“Sure,” said Leon gruffly. “Sorry

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I swung on you. Coulda hit you a lot harder if I wanted, of course, since it was me taught you to throw a punch in the first place. But still. Sorry.”

“Of course.” They shook hands. Maggie started to clap, earning her matching glares from her brothers.

The worst of the spat papered over for now, Earl proposed a boat ride. “C’mon, Leon, why don’t we take the Marylou out for the afternoon? Weather don’t look half bad; we can get out on the Bay if you want.”

Leon cast him a suspicious look. “You ain’t gonna grill me ‘bout my chat with the deputy once I’m stuck out there, are you?”

“I won’t, promise. Maybe we can scout some ducks, in case we decide to hunt the next couple days.”

“Guess we gotta keep on pretending things are normal, huh? Okay, lemme change my long-johns and we can go.”

“Things are normal. That deputy don’t know shit except that we consider his cousin a lecherous cretin, if you think about it. And the more I get to know about the man, the more I doubt we’re the only ones feel that way.”

Consensus from his siblings was less than deafening.

“I’ll do what I can without raising suspicion,” said Maggie when Leon had gone to his room. “But you two

need to be just as careful as me. If the Calhouns are onto us, they’ll have a quarter of the Island and half the Shore keeping tabs on our whereabouts for them.”

Earl needed no reminder to watch out for those long Calhoun roots. “Good luck, Maggs, and watch your step. We’ll be back by suppertime.”

The sun shone over the Sound as the Marylou motored through the slushy shallows and out onto the open water. Earl had piloted the Geezer’s deadrise enough times now to feel at ease at her helm. So much so, he scarcely batted an eye when Leon produced a pint bottle like any other scouting excursion the day before a hunt.

“If things are normal, like you say,” he said, “then I’m having a drink to stave off the chill.”

“Lemme get one too, then.” If passing a bottle back and forth was all it took to make peace, they could do worse for a parley. For scenery, too. The water was restful,

undisturbed except by fish, waterfowl, and boats puttering around the Chesapeake Bay. The skies were clear but for gossamer clouds borne so high they hardly scattered the sun’s rays. Below them, geese winged in great Vs toward farm fields on the Shore.

The prey Earl and Leon sought occupied a plane between the restive geese and leaping fish. Low-flying knots of waterfowl cut evasive flightpaths as they hopped from Sound to Shore to Bay and back again. More movement should forecast a better hunt, and today there was plenty. But Earl struggled to get excited about the birds they spotted rafted up off points on the big water. He didn’t really believe they would go hunting this weekend. In fact, he wasn’t certain when he’d feel comfortable on the Blackwater again. Those waters were stained now, and not only by pigments leeched from the peat.

“Should we head up Fishing Bay?” said Leon, reading his mind. “See what’s getting up on the Blackwater?”

“I’d rather not.” Earl turned them west toward the Hooper Strait instead, headed for the wide-open expanse of the Bay.

“Could always hide out on Bloodsworth if we ever need to go on the lam,” said Leon. “Like them pirates used to back in the day.” He wasn’t

smiling, so Earl treated it as a serious suggestion.

“I reckon that’d be one of the first places they’d look, for that very reason.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Ain’t gonna come to that, y’know.”

Leon huffed. “Sure hope not. I screwed up though, Earl, I know I did. With sinking the truck, and now with that slick-talking deputy too. I’m thinking if the hammer comes down…it oughta be on me.”

“Ain’t gonna happen,” said Earl again. He made his voice firm, even if his mind wasn’t. “And didn’t you say we weren’t gonna speak on that out here?”

“Where better? Can’t nobody hear us on the water, and I ain’t so mad about it now, promise. I can see it more clear-headed today than I ever could yesterday.” He raised the bottle to his lips again, then slapped it into Earl’s hand.

Earl took another swig against his better judgment. A necessary evil, he told himself. He didn’t want Leon drinking the entire volume of whiskey himself, for one thing, and it was getting chillier as they approached the Bay proper. Besides, it seemed he was about to receive the full account of Leon’s encounter with Deputy Calhoun, and he had a sense he might not want to be sober to hear it. If this was how Leon wanted the conversation to go, Earl would indulge him, if only in the

All Quiet

interest of maintaining the uneasy truce they’d reached this morning. He just hoped whatever Leon had to say wouldn’t reignite hostilities out here on the water.

“You see it clear-headed now, do you?” he said when he’d had a drink to calm his nerves.

“I do.”

“Okay, then. Let’s have it.” Earl braced himself as Leon took a deep breath.

“Well, I mighta played down the strength of my assertions a bit last night. Mighta been more forceful regarding…certain things than I first let on.”

Earl’s stomach performed a sickening maneuver. “Which assertions, Leon? What things?”

They neared the old screw-pile lighthouse that guarded the mouth of the Hooper Strait, a squat, hexagonal construction of whitewashed wood and wrought-iron railings. A lantern glowed in its windows, its flame an impish miniature of the

swiveling monstrosity that would come alight at dusk. Its idle mirrors caught the sunlight as Earl and Leon approached and blazed with sudden light that flitted over the mile-wide channel. Earl held up a hand to shield his eyes from the baleful glare.

“You gotta understand, I was seeing red after the deputy brought up Mom and Shane. You shoulda heard the way he was talking, Earl. It was all I could do not to throttle him right there, y’know? Hearing a Calhoun speak so, of all people, after what that sick bastard cousin of his did to Clara? After all the poison that pastor whispered in Mom’s ear all those years? I just kinda…lost it.”

“What the hell did you tell him, Leon?” A motorboat was coming up the channel behind them, putting on speed by the sound of it. Earl upped his own pace and pushed the Marylou out onto the Bay at a modest clip. Soon they were bouncing over minor swells on the open water, where there was little to no chance of colliding with other boats. Earl cut the deadrise’s engine and turned to his brother. “Well?”

“I’m telling you, Earl, if you’d only heard him you’d understa—”

“I don’t give a damn what he said!” Earl shouted over him. “Just tell me what the fuck you said already, so I can figure out how sunk we are!”

Leon shrank from him, looking for all his height and scruff

like a reprimanded child. The selfrighteous anger of last night was gone. This man looked deflated and beaten. Earl’s dread grew. From the mouth of the channel behind them, so did the grumble of the approaching boat engine.

“I let slip about the truck more or less like I told you yesterday, and the thing about his cousin being a no-good skulking pervert—or something like that—and maybe that’s why he’d gone missing. But then, well…” Leon gave a shuddering breath. Earl tightened his grip on the workboat’s steering wheel, listened white-knuckled. “Then I says to him, ‘Wasn’t me killed that goddamn rapist, but I sure as hell wish it was!’”

Earl closed his eyes against a wave of panicky vertigo, fought to focus on the calming sway of the deadrise’s deck beneath his feet. He forced himself to exhale before responding. “And what did Tyler Calhoun say to that?”

Leon shrugged miserably. “Nothing, really. Just, ‘I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other real soon.’ Then he walked off toward the pier. I didn’t get a look at his boat.”

The gentle pitch and yaw of the deck was no match for the psychological upheaval Leon had just heaped upon him. That’s that, then. They know it’s us. Not which of us, and maybe not enough to pin us

quite yet, but they know it’s us. Earl opened his eyes. Oh lord—and I’ve sent Maggie right into the viper’s den to spy!

“We gotta get back,” he mumbled. “Could be detectives and sniffin’ dogs coming right this minute to tear the house and yard up looking for a body!”

Leon paled. “You think?”

“Hell Leon, I don’t know. Maybe! Let’s just head back. Bad idea coming out on the water today anyways.” He switched the engine back on, swung the deadrise back towards the Hooper Strait.

“You ain’t gonna throw me overboard?”

“No, you goddamn fool. We’re deep enough in the muck as is—I can’t see how you turnin’ up missing on top of all else would help anything.”

“I’m sorry, brother. Really, I—”

“Shut up, Leon. Do yourself a favor for once, and shut the hell up before I change my mind.”

“Sure, okay. But first, you got eyes on that waterman, right? He ain’t giving us much of a wide berth.”

“I see him,” said Earl. There were a few boats in the offing, weekend fishermen trawling lackadaisically and waterfowlers like themselves prowling the points. The vessel Leon referred to was far nearer and moving with greater purpose. A motorboat with a sleek draketail transom, it rode high on the water as it sped up the channel towards

them. A chill breeze swept out of the east behind it as if to speed it on its way, bringing its captain swiftly into view. The man at the helm was tall and slender and wore a hat pulled down low. He didn’t hail the brothers in passing, only stared at them from the shadowed recesses of that wide brim.

“Was that—” Earl’s sudden shiver had nothing to do with the rising wind.

“I…I think it was.”

“Jesus. Small chance it’s a coincidence, huh?”

“I don’t think so, Earl. He’s swinging around. Can you lose him?”

“Lose him? Are you crazy? Motor on that boat’s half again the size of ours, by the sound of it.”

“Well, we can’t let him stop us! We both been drinking, and we ain’t got proper papers for this boat, either! He’s apt to arrest us as boat thieves for the excuse to take us down to the station!” For someone who had just promised his silence, Leon sure had a lot of thoughts on the situation.

Maybe that was for the best, though. Earl’s mind felt afire. He could hardly think straight.

“Hell do we do, then?” he said, wanting nothing more in fact than to sit down and hide his head in his hands. “Should I take us home?”

“No! He’ll get us there the same way, even if the Geezer vouches for us at the pier. That deputy’s gonna

be looking for any chance to take us in now, on whatever charge he can drum up. We can’t give him a damn one.”

Earl reflected that they wouldn’t be in this situation if Leon hadn’t given Deputy Calhoun ample fodder already but thought better of speaking it aloud. “Where, then? Are you certain he’s even tailing us anymore? I mean hell—couldn’t he just be out boating, like us?”

“He’s still on us, brother. No mistake. Cut south! Let’s see if we can’t shake him off south o’ Bloodsworth.”

“Son of a bitch,” said Earl. His stomach performed a fresh series of panicky somersaults, and his hands shook so hard that it was all he could do to steer straight. The Sound was growing choppy now, whitecaps appearing on the big, broad water. To aft, the deputy’s draketail sped up the Hooper Strait. “What do we do if that don’t work?”

“Don’t slow down! Lemme think for a minute,” said Leon. Not a promising sign.

“I’m pushing her hard as I can! Just tell me which way!”

“Tangier!” blurted Leon. “We’ll keep on south to Tangier!”

“Tangier? What the hell’s there for us?”

“Ain’t much there but the Tangiermen, that’s the point! Ole Neil won’t let no uppity out-of-town sheriff take us on his watch. Plus, it’s over the state line. Calhoun’s got no jurisdiction there!”

“How d’you know Ole Neil will let us ashore either?”

“He will.”

Earl was far from convinced, despite Leon’s assurances. For lack of a better suggestion, however, he turned them south and, with the vastness of the Sound before them and dogged pursuit closing in from behind, pushed the throttle of Geezer Gibbs’s boat as far forward as it would go.

Brendan Gallagher is a 2013 graduate of Easton High School and is currently finishing up a Ph.D. in Social-Personality Psychology at the University at Albany.

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 information specific to Chestertown visit www.chestertown.com .

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. The county is named for Queen Anne of Great Britain, who reigned when the county was established in 1706.

Queenstown was the original county seat when Queen Anne’s County was created, 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 .

Waterfowl Festival 2024

Something for Everyone!

Plan your route at the 2024 Waterfowl Festival to find something fun for everyone!

Venues for the Waterfowl Festival 2024 offer fun for the whole family! Follow the Quackin’ Trail, ride a bus to your favorite exhibit, wine, dine, dance in the streets and shop ’til you drop at the art exhibits and exciting outdoor and indoor pavilions.

Quackin’ Trail - Little ducklings can pick up a Willa’s Waterfowl adventure map at any ticket booth and follow along for exhibits that will delight the kids! Activities include a live mermaid, the Phil-

lips Wharf Fishmobile, face painting, goose calling clinic, silhouette painting class and a live terrapin exhibit. Be sure to find Willa, Webster and Winston, the festival’s mascots, for a special selfie that will make everyone smile. All kids activities are free for kids under ten with an adult ticket; some activities require advance reservation.

Chesapeake Bay PavilionThe Easton VFW Grounds will host a variety of activities such as the incredible raptor exhibit “Skyhunters in Flight.” Browse our indoor/outdoor vendors such as North Point

Waterfowl Festival

Marina, various artisans, MasonDixon Outfitters, North American Retriever Club demos, and conservation exhibitors including Department of Natural Resources.

Talbot Humane Doggie Day Care - Can’t go anywhere without your pup but sometimes need a little “me-time”? Let Talbot Humane Society volunteers pamper your pooch while you enjoy the indoor exhibits. Armory Lawn. Small donation.

Party at the Ponds! - Whether you are a hunter, angler, boater, dog lover or just an outdoor enthusiast, you’ll find something to interest you at the festival’s very own Bay Street Ponds property presented this year by The Oaks Waterfront Hotel. Festival guests can enjoy a glimpse of the hunting and angling world with the Talbot Retriever Club Dog Demonstrations, Kids Fishing Derby and Fly Fishing Demonstrations. Enjoy an interactive kid’s archery game by Bass Pro Outfitters, disc golf demo with Off Course and a Quackin’

Find Your Fall Style with

Monday-Saturday 10:30-5:30 31 N. Harrison St., Easton

Waterfowl Festival

Corner kid’s spot hosted by M&T Bank! Eat and drink at the famous Beer Wetlands sponsored by Kelly Distributing and enjoy a seasonal cocktail and eats from Gourmet by the Bay’s iconic mobile bar. The Sweet Fix truck will be there too!

The Duck Blind, Tasting Tent, 4 Dogs Patio Paw-ty, and the Cocktail Corner - Beer lovers unite! Craft beer and specialty cocktails will be on the taps at the indoor Duck Blind venue, the tasting pavilion and the Academy Art Museum’s cocktail corner presented by Delmarva Craft. Warm up and pick up your winter swag from RAR Brewing, Big Truck, Brackish Life, Waterfowl Festival licensed apparel shop and more in the Duck Blind. Featuring the Waterfowl Festival’s very own seasonal blend “In Flight” - a special collaboration by Burnish Brewing Company and Bird Nickel Brewing. In Qlarant tasting pavilion, local wine, cheese, beer and other delights will be available to sample and pur-

chase. Throughout the weekend, join 4 Dogs Brewing at the Eastern Shore Land Conservancy for a fun, lively patio party including a free Goose Music Conservation Kickoff Friday night.

Sportsman’s Pavilion - Outdoor enthusiasts and sporting visitors can delight in the array of Sportsman’s Pavilion vendors at the Easton Elks Lodge, offering everything from big-game hunting adventure trips to the smallest fishing lure. Incredible new outdoor Waterfowl Festival attire will be here with the Brackish Life showcase. Warm up with the fire pits, dance to the live music, and

shop for everything outdoors! Don’t miss the Delmarva Dock Dogs - a festival favorite for decades. Nearby, make sure to stop in to the Buy, Sell, Swap exhibit at Easton HIgh School and listen in at the World Waterfowl Calling Contest - host to the globe’s best callers since 1976.

The Country School - Take a bus to the Country School this year, the new home of the Harry M. Walsh Waterfowling and History exhibits, the exclusive Guyette and Deeter auction, and the fun Tailgating swap and sell, a favorite of long-time festival attendees for its variety of affordable collectibles.

Parking and Transportation - Enjoy free parking and bus transportation with a festival ticket. Ample accessible parking, ticket booths and bus stops will

Art Pavilions - Throughout downtown, a variety of art pavilions will enchant and entice collectors to seek out the very best in wildlife sculpture, paintings, carvings and photography. A selection of the nation’s finest artisans and artists will be represented in the Pavilions presented Waterfowl Festival this year by PNC Bank. Don’t miss the Featured Artist table, where Texas-based sculptor and painter Ronnie Wells will unveil this year’s waterfowl sculpture and painting.

be located at Easton High School, Easton Elementary School and Easton Middle School. Transportation and parking are available free with the support of Londonderry on the Tred Avon, The Arc Central Chesapeake Region, Benson and Mangold and the Talbot County Public School System. Four bus routes this year will get you where you need to go, fast!

Questions? Please contact us at the Waterfowl Festival office, Monday–Friday, 9 a.m.–5 p.m. Volunteers are needed for all venues and will earn a free ticket good for all three days of the festival!

For tickets please visit : waterfowlfestival.org/festivaltickets/

The Waterfowl Festival gratefully acknowledges the support of the Maryland State Arts Council, the Maryland Historic Trust, the Town of Easton, Talbot County Government and all of our incredible community partners including the hundreds of volunteers that make all the magic happen. We gratefully acknowledge the support of our 2024 Legacy Conservation Partners - PNC Bank, Guyette and Deeter, Ducks Unlimited, and the Maryland State Arts Council.

What’s Next: The Future of the Chesapeake Bay Cleanup

After 40 years and $20 billion, it is clear that only some of the 2025 Chesapeake Clean Water Blueprint goals will be achieved. A recent independent scientific report, Achieving Water Quality Goals in the Chesapeake Bay, A Comprehensive Evaluation of System Response, known as the CESR Report, is a gold mine of what works, what doesn’t, and options going forward.

A panel discussion hosted by Temple B’nai Israel’s “ENGAGE” Life Long Learning Adult Education Program, in cooperation with ShoreRivers, will be presented Nov. 14 at 7 p.m. at 7199 Tristan Drive, Easton. Facilitated by Matt Pluta, ShoreRivers’ Choptank Riverkeeper & Director of Riverkeeper Programs, key scientists Dr. Larry Sanford, Dr. Bill Dennison and Dr. Tom Fischer will discuss the CESR report. They will also present recommendations for what’s next in protecting and improving the Chesapeake and its tributaries beyond 2025. A 7-minute video about the CESR Report will help set the stage for the discussion.

Will climate change influence future Bay plans? Will recommendations for the Chesapeake Bay Agreement beyond 2025 affect our access to the Bay? Will any current resto-

ration efforts be dropped? And will new restoration efforts be able to keep pace with more people moving to the Bay and the development and land-use changes that come with it?

The expert panel is drawn from the Chesapeake Bay Program‘s Scientific and Technical Advisory Committee (STAC) drawn from 20 academic research intuitions. The CBP is a partnership set up by the EPA including the EPA itself, state and local governments in the Bay watershed, non-governmental environmental organizations, and the academic research institutions. The formal goals and agreements of CBP influence and fund the programs of the numerous environmental organizations and programs around the Bay.

All are welcome to this free event. Registration is required at bnaiisraeleaston.org/event/chesapeake.

Christmas in St. Michaels Ornament, Gingerbread House Registration

by Tracey F. Johns

Gingerbread “House” Preview Cocktail Party kicks off event on the evening of December 12

Bakers and pastry chefs of all ages and talent levels are encouraged to get their gingerbread house games on with the return of the Christmas in St. Michaels Gingerbread House competition this December and a purse totaling $2,000 in prizes up for grabs.

The competition is an important component of the fundraising the all-

volunteer organization achieves with the annual event, with the creations highlighted and on display at the Gingerbread “House” Preview Cocktail Party at the Woman’s Club of St. Michaels on Thursday, December 12 beginning at 5 p.m.

“We are encouraging participants to donate their creations for our silent auction, to be held the evening

Christmas in St. Michaels

of the cocktail party,” says this year’s Gingerbread House Competition Co-Chair Michele Lowe. “All auction proceeds support the beneficiaries of

Christmas in St. Michaels.”

Entrants can pick their category for participation, which includes master chefs and caterers, adults, young adults, children, children with adults, kit-made houses, and nonprofit organizations. Participation is free, with pre-registration needed at www.christmasinstmichaels.org/ events.

The 2024 Christmas in St. Michaels Collectors Ornament has also been announced and is the 21st in the series. This year’s ornament depicts the Chesapeake deadrise workboat with its crew and a friendly canine companion. The image was provided by St. Michaels artist Sherry Smith. The boxed ornament is available for purchase at select local retail

shops and the weekend-long Christmas in St. Michaels Marketplace and Sweet Shoppe. Online purchases can be made at www.christmasinstmichaels.org/ornament.

The deadrise workboat has been a staple among Chesapeake watermen for decades. “Deadrise” refers to the almost flat, V-shaped hull that provides a shallow draft to accommodate the waters in creeks and rivers of the Eastern Shore. Boats range from 25-45 feet in length and are powered by large, inboard 4 or 6-cylinder engines, usually diesel-fueled.

These wooden workboats typically have a forward housing or small cabin and a large open stern area that can accommodate various tools of the trade including nets, oyster tongs,

wire mesh crab pots, bushel baskets to hold the catch, and myriad other bits and pieces of the watermen’s equipment.

The shallow sides of the craft provide easy access to the water, a neces-

sity for trot-lining for crabs and maneuvering oyster tongs. A wooden or canvas roof protects watermen from the sun although in other seasons, a large metal clamming device is attached near the stern and the roof is removed.

Workboats typically sport women’s names on the transom or bow, paying tribute to wives and daughters. Others, such as the one in this ornament, refer to the town, river, or creek the boat calls home port.

“It is typical to see dozens of these deadrise workboats plying the waters of the Eastern Shore in the wee hours of the morning as they seek the day’s catch, returning to the pier in the ear-

ly afternoon to get their catch to market,” says Christmas in St. Michaels Chair Pat Martin. “We’re honored to add this limited-edition ornament to our collection to pay tribute to watermen and their boats in the St. Michaels area and the Chesapeake Bay region at large.”

Since the all-volunteer organization’s beginnings, sponsors and patrons of Christmas in St. Michaels have helped raise more than $1.7M in support of local children and adults served by family-focused, education and child development, and community enhancement organizations.

Event details, online ticket and ornament purchases, and more about Christmas in St. Michaels are at christmasinstmichaels.org. Christmas in St. Michaels

Festival of Trees Kicks Off the Holiday Season

Presented by Friends of Hospice, the 39th annual Festival of Trees is set to bedazzle this holidayseason. The fundraiser raises critical funds for Talbot Hospice.

Preview Gala

The Preview Gala will again be a formal affair on Friday, November 29 with the kickoff of the Festival of Trees. From 6 to 8 p.m., guests will have the first opportunity to view 100 exquisitely trimmed trees of varying sizes. Tickets to the Preview Gala are available in advance only for $125 per person or $200 per couple. While the larger trees are sponsored in advance, Preview Gala guests get the first opportunity to purchase the smaller trees, from 12 inches to three feet, in varying price ranges. Guests will enjoy heavy hors d’oeuvres and signature cocktails in the Gold Ballroom at The Tidewater Inn while listening to piano tunes from the talented Joan Dent. An on-time arrival to

the Gala is essential so guests won’t miss out on a beautiful surprise.

Festival of Trees

The Gold Ballroom opens to the public from Saturday, November 30 through December 3. A big highlight for many in the community are the beautifully decorated trees at the Tidewater Inn. As always, local performers will be cycling throughout the event to provide beautiful music and singing.

Keepsake Luminaries

New this year is the debut of oneof-a-kind, keepsake luminaries in honor of a loved one. Designed and created by Pat and Eric Harvey, a limited number of the metal luminaries will be sold online, then displayed in the Gold Ballroom. At the conclusion of the Festival of Trees,

Festival of Trees

the luminaries will be available for pickup in time to enjoy for the holiday season.

Carols by Candlelight

Returning for the fi fth year, Carols by Candlelight is a magical holiday event, free for all families on Saturday, November 30 from 5 to 7

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Tues-Sat: 10 a.m. - 4 p.m.

p.m. Sing along with choral groups, bell ringers, and musicians while enjoying hot cocoa and holiday treats. Santa will be located on the grounds of The Bullitt House at the corner of Washington and Dover streets in downtown Easton. Other visitors include The Grinch, Elsa, and Buddy the Elf.

Fine Jewelry Raffle

This year, the Festival of Trees introduces a Fine Jewelry Raffle, courtesy of Kyle Edward Fine Jewelry, of Easton. Thanks to this generosity, a beautiful pair of satin ball earrings and a 14k yellow gold, ¼ carat diamond bezel necklace will be offered in the raffle to benefit Talbot Hospice. One raffle ticket costs $25 and is available online at www.festival-of-trees.org. and at Kyle Edward Fine Jewelry, located at 27 South Harrison Street. The raffle will be drawn at 5:30 p.m. on December 3 at the conclusion of Festival of Trees.

Santa’s Workshop

Santa’s Workshop returns on Saturday, November 30 and Sunday, December 1 from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. in the Tidewater Inn’s Ball-

room Garden. Children will rotate through stations after being greeted by Santa and posing for a photograph. Children will enjoy writing a letter to Santa, craft stations, entertaining games, lively music, and a SELFie Station with fun props for photo opportunities. Santa’s workshop is free with admittance to the Festival of Trees.

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Santa 5K Fun Run/Walk

Encouraged to dress with the holiday spirit in mind, participants will hit the pavement on Saturday, November 30 at 9 a.m. at the Santa 5K Fun Run/Walk. There will be on-site registration starting at 8 a.m. at Idlewild Park in Easton and advance sign-ups will be available at festival-of-trees.org.

Poinsettia Tree

As Christmas is a season for remembering, friends and family remember their loved ones in a very special way by purchasing a poinsettia. The name of someone dear is placed on a Memory Scroll next to a stunning 12-foot poinsettia “tree” during the Festival of Trees in the Gold Ballroom at The Tidewater

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Festival of Trees

Inn from November 30 through December 3.

Friends of Hospice was formed in 1984 and began hosting the Festival of Trees in 1986 to raise money for the Talbot Hospice Foundation. To date, close to $4 million has been

raised by the Festival of Trees to assist with Talbot Hospice’s operating budget.

As a celebration of life for those who have received Hospice care during the past year, the continued success of Festival of Trees is made possible by the generous fi nancial contributions from local individuals and various businesses. To get involved in any capacity, or to inquire about a sponsorship, contact Festival of Trees Co-Chairmen Karla Wieland-Cherry at dkcherry4@ aol.com or 410-310-8421 and Denise Haddaway at 443-995-4431 or denise.haddaway@gmail.com.

Talbot Hospice provides compassionate care, comfort and support for patients and their families and caregivers wherever they call home. Talbot Hospice serves patients facing life-limiting illnesses through hospice and palliative care, as well as its pathways and bereavement programs. Services are available to patients and caregivers regardless of ability to pay. Learn more at www.talbothospice.org.

Changes: MARS(A) Making

America Relatively Sane (Again?)

by Roger Vaughan

“Make America Great Again,” a slogan which has become the name of a right-wing movement purportedly representing the underlying aspirations of the Republican party, has never made sense to me. While it has turned into a commonly used, compact way of describing a set of political beliefs, MAGA, as an acronym, is a misnomer. Aside from a list of exemplary accomplishments one could offer, from engineering miracles like the Brooklyn and Golden Gate bridges, the Empire State building and the automobile, to stunning technological achievements like putting men on the moon, the computer and printer, the cell phone, GPS and the Styrofoam cup, it’s a stretch to say any period in America’s turbulent history could be generally classified as “great.” Filling an order to return our culture to some proud state of “greatness” would be a considerable challenge for any time machine operator.

What about going back to Pilgrim days, to the 1600s when our adventurous European ancestors crossed

the Atlantic in rickety ships and settled on this hunk of attractive real estate, while promising religious freedom? The blood baths suffered by the indigenous residents trying to protect their way of life indicate that period was more brutal than great. The freedom of religion part turned out to be anything but free.

The Wild West period of expansion that followed was ruled by those fastest with guns, which isn’t so different from the fact there have been more than 600 mass shootings (four or more injured or killed) in each of the last three years. The Wild West, with its pitched battles over fences, water rights, (another situation currently being revisited in 2024), with its colorful gun-toting cowboys, robbable stagecoaches and frantic cattle drives, has provided the fodder for many exciting films. But was it great? Would we want to live in that perilous time when the bullet ruled and the average life span was around 40 years?

The horrors of what we might consider “racial” rather than “conquered” slavery started in the 1500s

in the British colonies, and that ugly business—designated by the historian Nancy MacLean in her book, Democracy in Chains, as the birth of capitalism—was making a lot of land owners (slavers) very wealthy in this country from the mid-1700s to the mid-1800s. Wealthy, and powerful. In fact, the slavers thought they should run the country. Nothing great about that. Or new.

The 13th (1865), 14th and 15th amendments (1870) freed previously enslaved people and gave them the right to vote. That wasn’t the end of their struggles by a long shot.

Women were treated as property, definitely secondclass citizens, until they won the right to vote in 1920 (19th Amendment). Title IX of the Education Amendments didn’t extend equal educational and athletic opportunities for women until 1972. Women are still fighting for equal measures and making headway (Madam President?).

marine USS Thresher in which 119 sailors died.

Or try 1975, picked at random, when there were two assassination attempts on President Gerald Ford in 17 days. The Vietnam War was on, the Watergate break-in occurred, resulting in President Nixon’s resignation, and thousands of Jehovah’s Witnesses sold their homes and businesses so they would be prepared for Jesus establishing God’s Kingdom on Earth. (Jesus was a noshow).

The slavers thought they should run the country. Nothing great about that. Or new.

Pick a year. I spun the wheel and got 1965. Aldolf Coors, the beer baron, was kidnapped for ransom and murdered. Thirty-five hundred more troops were sent to Vietnam. The Cold War was on. The Soviets shot down America’s spy plane (U-2) and put pilot Gary Powers in prison for 10 years. (There was some good news that year: the Pirates beat the Yankees in the World Series).

It would be difficult to select a period in America’s history that wasn’t tarnished by moral, ethical or violent issues. The Kennedy assassination quickly comes to mind. That was in 1963, a year that includes the Vietnam War; the 250,000-strong March on Washington to promote social and economic equality for minorities; and the sinking of the sub -

Next spin,1935 came up. The Great Depression was in full swing. The man who abducted and murdered the Lindberg baby was put to death after a disturbing trial. There was a race riot in Harlem, and dry blizzards created a “dust bowl” in Texas and Oklahoma. U.S. Senator Huey Long was assassinated, and Hitler was passing stringent laws against the Jews.

The notion of Making America Great Again appears to be a de -

monstrable fantasy. A brief cruise though our history reveals a rapidly growing mass of humans: people, with articulating thumbs who can walk upright and talk, two-legged animals at the top of the food chain doing the best we can under the circumstances, many of which are quite beyond our control. We barely get a passing grade.

The cruise through history indicates some amazing progress. Don’t forget that Styrofoam cup, or the great artists and musicians, the athletes, the physicians, the writers and comedians, the designers, the scientists, researchers and teachers and all the hard working, decent people we interact with on a daily basis.

edicts of national leaders. Many of today’s edicts would have caused those leaders to be disgraced or shunned 25 years ago. Add several eyes of newt, a few toes of frog, stir and ingest a spoonful.

It’s our response to that cultural stew that determines just how “great” our time on the planet will be judged. When asked why we have done this or that, we could say with some assurance, “the culture made me do it.”

Culture is defined as “all products of human work and thought.”

It’s the culture where things tend to go south.

Culture is defined as “all products of human work and thought.” That’s a mouthful. Imagine making a list of everything that affects our lives and putting it into a boiling witches’ pot out of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. “Toil and trouble” for sure. The recipe calls for everything from marshmallow “Peeps” to Artificial Intelligence; from Sonic drive-ins to five-star restaurants; from rowboats to 1,000-foot freighters; from the decisions of small-town commissioners to the

It’s a good bet future historians will isolate our 21st century as the most stressful of all time. Certainly, the dropping of the bomb on Hiroshima has to be a contender for the angst (and deaths) it caused, as is the chronic anxiety created by the Cold War period, or the ten years of the Great Depression. But today’s culture is unique in that it adds significant natural abnormalities to the usual list of influential effects: climate chaos, and overpopulation. Add those two runaway significant elements to our obsession with cell phones; the power of the internet; all-seeing GPS; the looming rise of AI; the saturation of social media; the lack of space we are all suffering; the political issues of abortion, immigration, LGBTQA+, Big Lies and the possibility of authoritarianism replacing democracy; the personalization of truth; the legalization of marijuana and just

getting through another day in one piece feels like a notable achievement.

That’s why Making America Relatively Sane Again(?) is appealing. “Sane” is the key word. Because looking around, it seems like sanity is losing its grip. Looking back, it seems evident that sane thinking played a huge part in our recovery from the typical moral, ethical and violent issues mentioned above, issues that undercut the return to the “greatness” MAGA promises.

Emerging on the positive side of the human condition under which we all struggle isn’t easy. Baseball players tend to make the Hall of

Fame if their lifetime batting average is .300 or better, meaning the best of them get a hit every three times at bat. Most of us will be lucky to get a hit every five or ten times at bat. Or twenty. Because practicing the seven deadly sins (pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, sloth) has always seemed easier than living by the four cardinal virtues (prudence, fortitude, justice, temperance). And more fun.

A certain degree of sanity helps us do the right thing on occasion, and maybe make it to first base. We’ll never hit .300. But if we keep at it, every so often we can knock a line drive through the cultural infield.

Vaughan.roger@gmail.com

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