One of St. Michaels’ historic treasures! Located in the heart of the town’s Historic District, mid-way between Talbot Street and the Harbor, this beautiful home is absolutely charming inside and out. It has been lovingly maintained, expanded and updated, with care to preserve the 18th and 19th century character. Sited on one of the larger lots in town, this is a comfortable, livable home featuring downstairs living and family rooms (both w/fireplaces), dining room and modern kitchen. Three bedrooms (one w/fireplace) and 2 full baths upstairs. All rooms are bright and cheery! Private, professionally landscaped back yard and off-street parking.
$1,395,000
The Art of Improv: Tracey F.
The Tidewater Inn Celebrates 75 Years!
Tidewater Gardening K. Marc Teffeau
When Cowboys Rode the Chesapeake: A.M. Foley .
Tidewater Kitchen: Pamela Meredith
All Quiet on the Sound (chapter 14): B. P. Gallagher .
- Fishing - Excerpt from a Memoir - Part 2: Roger
About the Cover Photographer Ellen Cohn
The cover photo is of Hoopers Community Hall (formerly Hoopers Memorial Church, circa 1886) on Hoopers Island, Dorchester County. No longer a place of worship, the church is now used for community functions. The light pollution on Hoopers Island is minimal making it easy to see the Milky Way with the naked eye if conditions are optimal. Recently “Hoopers Dream” won first place in the Professional Division and also was People’s Choice award at Dorchester Center for the Arts Photography Contest.
The first time Ellen viewed the Milky Way was at Blackwater Refuge. She was in awe of its beauty
and amazed how much she could see without a lens or special equipment. Without light pollution you can see the band stretch up and above your head to the other side of the sky.
Ellen fell in love in Astrophotography when she moved to Dorchester County in the summer of 2022 with her rescue dog, Moo. She also enjoys photographing landscapes, particularly the sunrises and sunsets as well as nature and birds at Blackwater Refuge. Ellen is owner of Photography by Ellen and photographs newborn babies, families and events. Ellen also enjoys drawing and painting
You can find Ellen’s photos at www.photographybyellen.com.
Daddy’s Girl by
Helen Chappell
I have to admit it. I was a daddy’s girl. Which is why it’s so nice to see men unashamedly enjoying their daughters these days. Not just doing the traditionally girly things but teaching their female offspring stuff that used to be guys only, like changing the oil, safely handling a firearm, hunting, fishing and playing cards. Guy stuff.
I’ve read that a girl’s relationship with her father will set the pattern for all her future relationships with men. Whether or not that’s true,
and what it means, good and bad, I don’t know. I suppose a lot of good and bad things come from my father, but I adored him, mostly, and I think I inherited a lot of my creativity from him.
Don’t take my word for it. He died in 1980, and I still have people tell me he was their doctor, and they loved him, so I inhaled that all my life. His patients probably saw a lot more of him than I did.
He was a workaholic who performed surgery all day the hospi-
Daddy's Girl
tal, came home, had dinner and had office hours in the evening. When he came home, he and my mom collapsed in front of the television and I would run and get a comb and play with his hair while he drowsed. He had great hair: he’d turned pure white in medical school and it was thick and straight and perfect for styling while he snoozed. I was still in elementary school and played with his hair as if he were a doll.
Every once in a great while, I’d have him to myself. Mom would be busy with something, my brother was in school and he’d have some time off, so we’d do something.
When I was very young, doctors still made house calls, so I’d ride all over the county with him, as long as I promised to be good and sit quietly in the car. If I was lucky, some nice lady would ask me to come into their house, where I’d get a treat or a chance to play with their dog or cat. We didn’t have
animals, so this was special to me.
But what I really loved was when the two of us had an adventure. We’d go gunning sometimes, but what I really liked was going fishing with my father’s friend and guide from Hooper’s Island.
From the time I was a baby, I’d known Jesse Dean. He carried the doctor’s gunning parties and looked after the shack they called their hunting club. But what I liked was when he took us fishing.
Sometimes, the whole family went out of Jess’s draketail, and maybe one or two his sons, Eddie and Bunky.
I liked it best when it was just the three of us. Jess was great. A Hooper’s Island native, he knew the waters around here blindfolded and he could find his way home in a thick fog by intuition. And he was nice to me, kind and patient, and didn’t make me bait my own hooks. To this day, I’ve ever seen anyone with bluer eyes or more tolerance for a little tagalong.
Jess and my father had a great
friendship. They didn’t talk much, but they didn’t have to. Like a lot of men, they communicated in sophisticated grunts. They were both country boys, and I honestly think Jess was my father’s best friend.
So, the morning in question was a fine early fall day. We left Fishing Creek and headed down the Bay. The tide in Fishing Creek was so low you could see the crabs and duckweed and the mud as the boat glided over them, something I always found fascinating.
As I recall, we were going after drum. I never asked too many questions, lest I draw attention to myself and become a pest.
So, I perched on the washboard
and watched the land grow distant and the water grow bluer and deeper. We were running in the open and the sun was beating down on us, but I didn’t care. I was happy just to be here, with the hull beating against the incoming tide.
Somewhere, and to this day, all these many years ago, I still have no idea where we were, except somewhere down the Bay, farther than I’d ever been before.
Suddenly Jess cut the engine, and the silence was as loud as the noise. “Look at that,” he said, and my father and I looked down in the water.
It was the size of a dining room table, as pale as a ghost, bobbing along the current, passing beneath the boat. I was utterly certain it was a monster, and it was going to reach up and swallow us all, boat,
humans and bait, dragged into the depths.
“I’ll be damned,” my father said conversationally. It would take more than a giant jellyfish to scare him.
Or Jess, either. Using a dipnet, he reached over and poked at the thing. White, floating blob didn’t move, just drifted. If I had expected tentacles to reach for us, like a kraken. It disappointed me.
“Sea nettle,” he said conversationally. “Damn big one,” my father observed.
I didn’t say anything. The first rule of being a sidekick is keeping quiet. I’d seen a lot of monster
movies on Chiller Theater, but since the adults in the boat weren’t screaming, I figured it wouldn’t eat us alive.
Jess poked at it and it didn’t move, just drifted lifeless.
“They grow ‘em big up there in the arctic,” he told me. “Sometimes, they die and drift south on the Gulf Stream.” He went to start up the engine again.
“Let’s fish,” my father said, and we were on our way.
I watched the white blob until it was out of sight.
There are more things in Chesapeake Bay than are dreamed of in your philosophy.
Ask any waterman.
Helen Chappell is the creator of the Sam and Hollis mystery series and the Oysterback stories, as well as The Chesapeake Book of the Dead . Under her pen names, Rebecca Baldwin and Caroline Brooks, she has published a number of historical novels.
Join the Oxford Community Center and the Christopher Foundation for Life for a charitable walk/run to support expanded mental health programs in our area.
Riding the Rails to the Birthplace of Our Nation
by Bonna L. Nelson
Trains are wonderful…to travel by train is to see nature and human beings, towns and churches and rivers, in fact, to see life.
~Agatha Christie
We introduced our granddaughter, Bella, to her first train travel experience by taking her to the “City of Brotherly Love,” Philadelphia. On a drizzly but mild day, we hustled through the classic, Beaux-Arts styled architecture of Baltimore’s
Penn Station to catch a train to Philadelphia, the birthplace of the nation. The beautiful, historical train station, the eighth busiest train station in the nation, was built in 1911 and the latest renovation plans were underway.
Welcome to your home with exceptional views of the Choptank River. Nestled on 3.36+/- acres, this property offers a waterfront lifestyle with shoreline access, perfect for launching your kayak and exploring the waters. This spacious home features 3 bedrooms and 2.5 bathrooms, providing ample space for comfort and hosting family or friends. The primary suite includes en-suite bathroom with soaking tub, separate shower, an access to private balcony with water views, ideal for relaxation. Living room with fireplace and formal dining room with views of the river. The den off the kitchen, complete with a built-in bookcase, offers a cozy nook for reading or work while also taking advantage of the beautiful water views. The versatile upper-level bonus room can serve as a recreation room or office. Outdoor living is easy with a screened-in porch off the kitchen and a patio, ideal for entertaining or unwinding as you take in the scenery. The 2-car garage provides convenient parking and storage. Fiber optic internet available through Easton Velocity.
EASTON | $799,900 | www.9199HighBanksDrive.com
BENSON & MANGOLD REAL ESTATE
Nestled off the sought-after Oxford Road corridor, this custom-built Georgian-style home sits on 2.13+/- acres with breathtaking views of Trippe Creek. The property has a rip-rapped shoreline, private pier complete with two slips, a boat lift, and approximately 4 feet of MLW. The home features exquisite millwork throughout. The expansive waterside composite deck, complete with a hot tub, offers the perfect space to unwind and soak in the serene water views. The screened porch provides a tranquil retreat. The family room, with a gas fireplace, opens to the chef’s kitchen with high-end appliances, and breakfast bar, creating an ideal setting for less formal entertaining. The formal dining and living room areas are perfect for hosting special occasions. The main level hosts the primary suite, offering stunning water views and direct access to the deck. The luxurious primary bath features double vanities, a tiled shower, and ample closet spaces, providing a spa-like experience. The second floor landing is perfect for an office or reading room, complete with built-in bookcases and sweeping water views. Three additional en-suite bedrooms provide comfort and privacy for family and guests.
We were impressed by the ornate granite, terracotta and cast-iron building as well as by the ease of parking, finding restrooms and then our boarding location inside. The waiting area is illuminated by three large domed skylights. The interior is also embellished with mosaic flooring, glazed wall tile and marble detailing. Long, high-backed wooden benches were comfortable seating during our brief wait for train boarding.
Neither my husband, John, nor I had traveled by train in years. We learned from friends that for the best ticket price we should order tickets online at the Amtrak website which we did. Seats are mostly “first come,
first serve,” so that when we boarded, we were surprised to learn that we had to walk through 5-6 cars while the train was moving to find three empty seats together since riders, mostly business people from earlier stops, such as D.C., had filled the train cars.
Bella was a champ at maneuvering the aisles of the moving train. I lagged behind. We settled into a section where we could sit together and relaxed into comfortable seats with fold down trays for drinks and snacks. We watched with fascination as the train headed north past roads, towns, stores, rivers, factories, trees and people through large, panoramic windows.
We passed the lovely Gunpowder River in northern Baltimore County, MD. Rode a bridge over the Susquehanna River between Harford and
Contemporary Blend on Broad Creek
Who says you can’t have a Contemporary Kitchen in a Traditional Home? By choosing wood finishes, adding glass elements, and re-using the existing apron-front sink, this kitchen and breakfast area stands out in design without harshly juxtaposing the rest of the house’s style. The same cabinetry was used in both areas of this open-concept room, but adding a black granite waterfall top begins to transition you away from the mostly-white kitchen and into the rest of the living space in the home. If you like the look of a sleek and modern kitchen, but worry about how it will blend in your home, let us be the experts.
Visit our Showroom at 1 East Dover St. in Easton
Designed by Alison Bridges
Installation by Shaw Contracting, LLC
Photography by John Cole Photography
Riding the Rails
Cecil Counties, MD and passed the nearby towns of Havre de Grace and Perryville. We had a stop in Wilmington, DE.
We adjusted to the clickety clacking and rumble bumbles of train travel, a bit less smooth than car and plane travel, unless there is flight turbulence, but more leg and aisle room. We enjoyed watching the scenery. Bella proudly handed our train tickets to the conductor with a smile. We arrived in Philadelphia in an hour and ten minutes.
Finding a taxi at Philadelphia’s train station, the William H. Gray III 30th Street Amtrak Train Station, to take us to Independence Square at the Independence National Historic Park (INHP) was easy. Rain had been predicted for the day but so far so good. We were looking for the Hop On Hop Off (HOHO) tour bus, which was also
Riding the Rails
easy to find at about a block from our taxi drop off.
We have enjoyed HOHO tours of many cities around the world and in the states. HOHO tours are a fantastic and quick way to learn about a city. Bella was wide-eyed on our HOHO tour of Washington, DC, a few years ago. There are usually 20 to 30 stops on a HOHO tour. Our tour with the Philadelphia Trolley Works, Big Bus was 26 stops. Riders can hop off at any stop, walk, tour, shop, eat and hop back on at any stop.
Our strategy was to ride the bus fully through all stops and then start the trip over again, hopping off at places we were most interested in. Time is the limiting factor, as one complete tour can take up to an hour or an hour and a half. A tour of a museum might take two or three hours. That is half a day, and then it’s time for lunch. With the morning train trip a half hour late and an afternoon taxi and train to catch back to Baltimore, we had to manage our
excursions and expectations well.
So, with the approval of Bella, we completed the tour, including highlights of all the important sites that the historic city of Philadelphia has to offer. The first and last stop was at the Independence National Historic Park, which includes Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, the Visitors Center and the National Constitution Center. Other important sites included the Betsey Ross House, the United States Mint, Ben Franklin’s grave, various art museums including the “Rocky Steps” at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, various churches, Penn’s Landing/Waterfront, Shops and famous streets.
We spent the entire morning with the train trip up, taxi to the Independence Center, walk to the HOHO stop and the tour. Bella’s favorite site was the old Eastern State Penitentiary. She had read that it was haunted, and at age fourteen, she has a thing about hauntings and ghosts. We told her it would take a few hours, and we would return to tour it on a future visit.
Riding the Rails
By then, food was on everyone’s mind, in particular the famous Philly cheese steaks. I had read that Campos on Market Street had
the best cheese steaks in Philly. We hopped off the HOHO at the Visitors Center, where we started the tour, and walked for ten minutes or so to lunch at Campos. Though there was a line it moved quickly, and soon Bella and John were enjoying their cheese steaks and I my chicken cheese steak. The sandwiches are like subs or hoagies with a long Italian sliced roll, piled with shaved meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato, onion and a special sauce. I enjoyed mine; John was okay with his, and Bella wasn’t keen on the chewy roll.
We walked back to the INHP Visitors Center to watch a video about the Park, Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell Center. We were impressed with Bella’s knowledge
Riding the Rails
about the key players in the American Revolution, the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the historic sites at the park. She had been studying the topics recently in her 8th grade Social Studies class and reminded us of several key events, luminaries and dates.
The park area was inundated with visitors that day. Yellow school buses lined the streets. School kids on field trips dressed in patriotic-designed tee shirts were standing in long lines at Independence Hall, where on July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was adopted. The same was true at the Liberty Bell, a revered symbol of American freedom. The lines of eager touring students were
beyond what we could cope with in a timely manner.
So, we decided to avoid the crowds and walk to The Betsy Ross House a few blocks away, and it was a good decision. There were no lines, and we didn’t need to hop back on the bus to get there. We had the place to ourselves with the reenactors.
But first a brief detour to share my Liberty Bell story. In my middle school years, we lived in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania. Close to Philadelphia, whenever family or friends visited from out of state, we took them to Philadelphia to see the historic district. Back then the Liberty Bell, the revered symbol of American independence sat out in the open, not ensconced in a glass enclosure, not fronted by a security guard, not inside of a windowed build-
ing, the Liberty Center. Anyone could walk up to the Bell and touch it. Now Philadelphia’s top attraction, those days of getting up close and personal are long gone due to preservation and security concerns.
The Betsy Ross House, the birthplace of the American fl ag, was very approachable, interactive, immers-
ible and delightful. We wandered through the tiny rooms and up and down the narrow, curvy staircases, with period décor in the circa-1740 home on a self-guided tour. We met “Betsy” dressed in period costume while in her sewing room. She engaged Bella in conversation about her seamstress and upholstery business, Colonial-era fabrics on display and the making of our country’s flag, another symbol of our independence.
During the house tour, we saw many treasures, including her family Bible and her eyeglasses and other documents and artifacts that illuminate her legend. We experienced 18th-century life by viewing the exhibits in each room. Lastly, we observed the memorial where Betsy
Riding the Rails Big
and her third husband, John Claypoole, are buried in the side garden. It was time for us to hustle back to Independence Square to find a taxi back to the train station. Lucky for us the rain held off all day with sprinkles beginning just as we hopped into the cab. We arrived at the train station a bit earlier than our return departure time, purchased some water and relaxed.
Bella shared that she thought that the HOHO tour guide was funny and enjoyed her stories. She said really wanted to tour that penitentiary one day and hopes that former prisoners actually haunt it.
Her favorite experience at The Betsy Ross House was talking with “Betsy” about her work and how she lived, as well as seeing Betsy’s bedroom decorated in pretty pink fl owered linens. Bella commented that she felt Betsey’s presence. Our girl is really into hauntings!
Bella nodded off during the train ride back in the drizzling rain, probably dreaming of all the ghosts that inhabit the historic sites in Philadelphia, the birthplace of our nation. We were happy that we could take her on her fi rst train ride and hope that there will be many more train rides and other adventures in her future.
Bonna L. Nelson is a Bay-area writer, columnist, photographer and world traveler. She resides in Easton with her husband, John.
Last month, I was ordained as a deacon in the Episcopal Church. Four of us who were ordained together will be transitional deacons for a year on our way to becoming priests. Though I grew up in the Episcopal Church, I can’t say ordination was ever on my bucket list, much less on my radar screen. But of all the things I have done in my
life, this path feels like it’s a part of my wiring, something I am called to do. I wonder if we are all wired for particular things, callings large and small, that speak to who we are if we listen.
I started working for the church when I was 44 years old and began seminary when I was 49. It is the first job I have had that feels like I
Temples
am fully engaged, using all the different parts of me and stretching me in life-affirming ways and directions.
It goes back much further than working at a church, when I look at the things I am inclined to do.
Why do I sit quietly outside listening? Why do I stare at the stars, marvel at sunsets and get up before sunrise to read, write and pray? Why did I start reading and writing poetry at age 15 when none of my friends had any interest in it?
Why did I enter a 50-mile trail ultramarathon or swim across a seanettled Tred Avon River to settle a bet and see if I could beat a car driving around the river?
Why did I skateboard 50 miles on my 50th birthday? Why did I go to seminary at a point in life where some people buy sports cars or motorcycles?
I think it has something to do with wiring. We are all wired certain ways. That’s not up to us, it’s
ACADEMY ART MUSEUM
CRAFT SHOW
October 26 & 27
Saturday, 10 am–5 pm • Sunday, 10 am–4 pm
Weekend admission: $10 Members, $12 Non-members
Preview Event: Masquerade Ball
October 25 • 5:30–9 pm
Sunday Brunch at the Craft Show
October 27 • 10 am–1 pm
inherent in us—the way my father is drawn to numbers and accounting, and I am not. Life happens, and decisions we make and how we act and react can sometimes enhance or cover up our wiring. We can do things that work with our wiring or work against it.
In my experience, when I work with my wiring, God or the Universe works with me. And if I am lucky enough, maybe even through me. If I had to give it a name, I would say I am wired for wonder. That’s the thread that runs throughout my life, that I can find in my earliest memories through to this moment. What does wonder have to do with church? That’s a fair question, given the way the (broader) church acts and is perceived in many cases. For me, church has never been about following rules or being on my best behavior. I come back often to Trappist monk Thomas Merton, who wrote:
“Life is this simple: we are liv-
ing in a world that is absolutely transparent and the divine is shining through it all the time. This is not just a nice story or a fable, it is true.”
That quote was with me nine years ago as my younger daughter developed epilepsy at nine years old, and it was with me seven years ago when I began working for Christ
Church Easton full time. The divine is shining through all the time if we have eyes to see it.
It seems many of my heroes are mystics, poets, wanderers and wonderers. John O’Donohue, once a Catholic priest, who became known for his blend of Celtic Christianity, had a similar way to Merton of thinking about the miraculous nature of the world:
“It is a strange and wonderful fact to be here, walking around in a body, to have a whole world within you and a world at your fingertips outside you. It is an immense privilege, and it is incredible that humans manage to forget the miracle of being here.”
Temples
I don’t ever want to forget the worlds within us, or at our fingertips, and the miracle of being here.
Ordination is being called into service. First as a deacon, which the Episcopal Church says is about “a special ministry of servanthood.” As the church outlines the responsibilities of deacons:
“As they proclaim the gospel, lead intercessions, wait at the eucharistic table, and direct the order of the assembly, deacons act as sacred messengers, agents, and attendants. The revival of the order of deacons in the twentieth century has emphasized social care and service.”
Rev. Carol Callaghan was a dea-
con at Christ Church Easton who will forever be a role model for me. Rev. Barbara Coleman is a dear friend whose service as the selftitled, “Deacon of Dorchester” is a standard I will never attain, but I will try in my own way.
Being called into service, for something much bigger than myself, to be full of wonder and gratitude and to put that out into the world; to serve God in the form of serving others; to have a sense of grace that what I am doing has nothing to do with anything I have done or earned, but has everything to do with a love that I can never repay. That’s the kind of grace and love that makes me want to spend my time paying it forward.
That’s the story I hope to live into.
Perfect for Kayaks and Paddleboards
• Kayak Docks
• Re-Decking
• Pressure Wash & Seal
• Boat Lifts, PWC Lifts
• Gangways
• Solar Dock Lighting
• Floating Piers
• Rowing Docks
• Kayak Racks
• Ladders
• Dock Boxes
• Piling Caps
Slot Dock
12’ x 16’
Temples
What does that story look like for you? If we are all taking steps down a path as our lives move ahead, what does your path look like?
I appreciate pastor, author and theologian Frederick Buechner’s words on vocation, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
The world needs what it is that makes you deeply glad and fills your tank. With pain and confusion in the world and in our community, there is a need for people to bring their gladness and joy and those things that light us up.
It also helps me understand that all the ways and times my life has fallen apart, all the times I have
messed up and will mess up in the future, those things are all a part of the larger picture. I recently came across this verse from poet Antonio Machado and felt like he had pointed me at a way of seeing that I needed:
“Last night, as I was sleeping, I dreamt—marvelous error!— that I had a beehive here inside my heart.
And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures.”
I can’t count all the times I have failed. But I can count them in the service of where I am going, how I can serve, and maybe how I can help others. Making sweet honey from my old failures.
What I am finding as I walk the path that is in front of me is that change is constant, and that I can change according to what the world wants, or I can change according to how I am wired. If I am wired for wonder, then I hope I can use my life to serve that wonder, being grateful and telling others.
Michael Valliant is the Assistant for Adult Education and Newcomers Ministry at Christ Church Easton.
The Art of Improv: Lifelong Tools for Adaptability and Success
by Tracey F. Johns
Earlier this year, I took my first Intro to Improv class, and I quickly realized how these skills could be valuable in life and leadership. Nancy Andrew, co-founder of Improv Easton, and I had served together on the board of Shore Leadership and are both graduates. Nancy had been encouraging me to try improv for years.
“This is like playgroup for grownups,” said a fellow participant after the intro session, and I couldn’t agree more.
After that first class, I remarked to Nancy that the skills learned in improv could be particularly beneficial for someone like me with a high ACE score. Nancy, who recently earned her Master of Social Work
The Art of Improv
and serves as director of the Talbot Family Network, understood what I meant.
An ACE (Adverse Childhood Experiences) score tallies experiences like abuse, neglect, and household dysfunction. The higher the score, the greater the risk of physical, behavioral and mental health challenges later in life. In other words, if you’re a 10, you’re a hot mess.
Why my ACE score is high isn’t important here—what matters is that joining Improv Easton and hearing “I’ve got your back” each week has done more for my mental health than any conventional therapy.
It’s remarkable that, at nearly 60 years old, I find this simple, heartfelt gesture life changing. I initially thought improv was just about being funny and performing. But I was wrong. While many in
the Improv Easton troupe perform and make audiences laugh, improv is also about learning more about adaptability, listening, and accepting gifts.
I’m too anxious to perform and not sure I’m funny, but that’s okay. My new tribe, as I call them, has my back. Improv, for me, is more about learning to adapt and embrace the unexpected.
The diversity within Improv Easton is another aspect I love. We have a biologist, an accountant, a life coach, a handful of writers, a pet whisperer, a brilliant high school student, a radio talk show host, a Sean Cassidy fan club member, an artist, an executive director, a married couple, a new mom, and even a Teacher of the Year, among others. We learn about each other as we practice weekly at the Waterfowl Festival building in Easton. Whether we’re playing games like ‘Zip, Zap, Zop’ or diving into improv scenes, it’s all fun, and these are now my people. I’ve got their backs now also.
In a world that values quick thinking and adaptability, we’re all
The Art of Improv
working toward mastering the art of improv as more than just a form of entertainment. Each of us is developing powerful tools for essential life and work skills.
The Power of “Yes, And...”
One of the fundamental principles of improv is “Yes, and” which is accepting what others offer and building on it. This mindset encourages active listening, collaboration, and adaptability, which are invaluable in both personal and professional settings. Whether navigating a tricky conversation or brainstorming new ideas, the ability to accept and build on others’
contributions fosters a more inclusive and innovative environment. And that’s something we can all use at work, at home, and among strangers or friends.
Improv as a Life and Work Skill
Improv teaches you to stay present and respond with confidence, making it a skill that transcends the stage or jam session and proves useful in daily life. Other troupe members and I regularly report improved mental flexibility, increased creativity, and better stress management. By practicing spontaneous thinking, we are learning to embrace the unknown with curiosity and openness.
On the workplace side, I can see how improv skills could significantly improve communication, collaboration, and leadership. The “Yes, and” approach encourages positivity and inclusion, fostering a culture where ideas are welcomed and built upon. This spirit can be particularly beneficial in team settings, where adaptability is crucial. Improv helps teams break down barriers, improve trust, and create a more cohesive working environment.
Building Adaptability at Any Age
Improv is accessible to people of all ages, whether you’re a young professional looking to sharpen your soft skills or a retiree seeking
The Art of Improv
new ways to stay mentally agile. As I age, I’ve learned that adaptability is increasingly important. Life can certainly throw unexpected challenges our way, and improv keeps my mind sharp, encouraging a growth mindset that helps me embrace change and say ‘yes’ to more things in life.
Improv Easton: Building Community and Confidence
Improv Easton is a community improv troupe based in Talbot County, Maryland, that exemplifies how these skills can be cultivated at any stage of life. Founded in 2019, Improv Easton started with a small group of enthusiasts who wanted to explore improvisation without traveling far from home. The group has since grown into a vibrant community hub, offering regular classes, performances, and drop-in nights that welcome everyone, regardless of experience.
Blair Hope of Royal Oak, Maryland says when she joined Improv Easton in 2021, she had no idea
what she was getting into, but the people were the most welcoming, accepting group of people she’d ever met at a time when a safe place was needed in her life.
“Now I look forward to Tuesday night practices because I can step away from everything else in life,” says Blair. “In addition to being fun, I am spending time with people who I know have my back and we all accept each other. We are all learning together and making mistakes together.
“Improv also helps me to be more present and to get out of my head, past that voice that tells you that you can’t, or you’re not enough.”
Adaptability in Action
The adaptability honed through improv practice is particularly relevant today. Improv teaches participants to think on their feet and respond creatively to unexpected
The Art of Improv
situations—a critical asset in workplaces that value innovation and quick decision-making.
Howard Townsend, a member of Improv Easton’s executive team, highlights the practical applications of improv. “We know we all
have one another’s back,” he says. “That’s really critical because then you’re willing to take risks.”
This sense of security empowers individuals to step out of their comfort zones, whether in a boardroom or on stage.
“All of life is improv,” says leadership coach and spiritual leader Heather Hall of Oxford, Maryland. “Unless you’re performing in a scripted play, every conversation we have is improvised. I only wish we all implemented “Yes, and” and “Got your back” in our daily lives.
Lasting Positive Change
In a rapidly changing world, the ability to adapt and thrive is more important than ever. Improv Easton offers a unique and effective way
The Art of Improv
to build these crucial skills, helping people of all ages become more confident, creative, and adaptable. Whether you’re looking to improve your performance at work, enhance your relationships, or simply keep your mind sharp, mastering improv can lead to lasting positive change.
“Improv matters so much in my life because it has taught me the power of active listening and collaboration,” says radio host and writer Val Cavalheri. “In improv, you can’t succeed alone; it’s about building something together with your scene partners, saying “yes, and” to their ideas, and adding your own.
“This has transformed the way I
approach relationships and work— especially in a setting like radio, where quick thinking, flexibility, and strong connections with others are critical,” she says. “Improv has made me more resilient, openminded, and better at communicating—skills that are priceless in any personal and professional life.”
A Lifelong Journey
Improv Easton’s commitment to community building through creative expression is a testament to the enduring power of improv. Through year-round classes, workshops, and performances, Improv Easton invites people from all walks of life to discover the joy and practical benefits of improv, proving that it’s never too late to say yes
to learning something new.
Mastering improv is also a lot like mastering golf. You need to do it a lot to get better at it. So far, I’ve taken a basic and intermediate class with Improv Easton, and I’m attending Tuesday improv sessions to sharpen my game. And play with my new friends.
For me, saying ‘yes’ to Improv Easton has meant any feelings of abandonment don’t stand a chance in my world these days. I’m surrounded by people I trust and who have my back, and I feel a sense of community and being heard. It really doesn’t get much better than that for this ACE-scoring girl.
Oh, and the performing troupe members, they’re hilarious and of-
ten crack each other up! Each show is different, with audience members having fun watching troupe members adapt their storylines throughout each scene.
For more information about Improv Easton, including upcoming events and classes, visit their Facebook or Instagram page.
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.
Set Amid the Charm of Easton
Tidewater Inn Celebrates 75 Years
The Tidewater Inn proudly announces its 75th anniversary, marking a milestone of exceptional hospitality on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
Originally known as the Hotel Avon in 1891, this establishment was Easton’s hospitality cornerstone for over five decades until a fire devastated it in 1944. Following the blaze, local businessman Arthur Johnson Grymes embarked on constructing a state-of-the-art
hotel. The grand unveiling on September 3, 1949, marked the rebirth of the Tidewater Inn, rapidly earning a reputation as one of the MidAtlantic Region’s finest hotels.
Today, the Tidewater Inn features 86 renovated guest rooms and suites, Hunters’ Tavern, Terrasse Spa and stunning event venues. The Tidewater Inn caters to a diverse clientele, from the modern bride to sophisticated business travelers and leisure guests seek-
Tidewater Inn
ing an authentic Eastern Shore experience. With less than a twohour drive from major cities such as Washington, D.C., Baltimore,
Wilmington and Philadelphia, the Tidewater Inn is a sought-after destination for weddings, corporate retreats and weekend getaways.
In 2009, the Tidewater Inn began an exciting new chapter under the ownership and management of John Wilson and Coastal South. With a vision of restoring the Tidewater Inn as the “Pride of the Eastern Shore”, an extensive renovation plan was initiated that took nearly 15 years to complete. This ambitious undertaking involved a total renovation of all guest rooms, lobby, ballrooms, restaurant, and kitchen, as well as updates to the windows and heating and air systems. During this
period, the Tidewater Inn also expanded its offerings, acquiring The Inn at 202 Dover and introducing Terrasse Spa.
“Our 75th anniversary is a testament to the enduring legacy of the Tidewater Inn and our commitment to providing unparalleled guest experiences,” said Don Reedy, Director of Operations. “We are proud to continue the tradition of hospitality excellence that has defined the Tidewater Inn for three-quarters of a century.”
In addition to its signature experiences in the hotel, restaurant, and spa, the Tidewater Inn is renowned as a year-round wedding destination, offering a picturesque setting for couples. It was recently recognized as a 2024 “WeddingWire Couples’ Choice Award recipient.
“The Tidewater Inn has become a cherished part of the Easton community, and we are honored to celebrate this milestone with our guests and neighbors,” said Lau-
ren Catterton, Director of Sales. “Our recent renovations and ongoing enhancements reflect our commitment to providing an exceptional guest experience. We look forward to many more years of welcoming guests to the Tidewater Inn.”
As Tidewater Inn celebrates 75 years, it continues to embrace its historic roots while looking to a bright future. The Tidewater Inn’s legacy is one of warmth and elegance, making it a beloved destination for generations of guests.
For reservations, call 410-8221300 or visit tidewaterinn.com.
CrackerjacksToys.com A ukulele for your budding musician.
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 .
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 .
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/.
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 .
Are you tired of spending your weekends battling unruly grass and overgrown shrubs? Look no further! Sanchez Lawn Management is your one-stop solution for all your property management needs.
• Grass cutting
• Mulching
• Power washing
• Leaf removal
• Estate management
We're here to turn your lawn into a verdant oasis you can be proud of. Our team of experienced professionals is dedicated to providing quality service. Whether you're in need of routine maintenance or a complete lawn makeover, we've got you covered. At Sanchez Lawn Management, we understand that your lawn is more than just grass—it's a reflection of your home and lifestyle. That's why we go above and beyond to deliver exceptional results that exceed your expectations.
Ready to experience the difference with Sanchez Lawn Management? Let us help you achieve the lawn of your dreams! We’re just a phone call away. 410-253-4906
TIDEWATER GARDENING
by K. Marc Teffeau, Ph.D.
October Clean-Up Opportunities
The change in the season is now becoming apparent. Fall has arrived; there is a certain “nip” in the day temperatures and a “woodsy” fragrance in the air, the days are growing shorter, and the deciduous shrubs and trees are coloring up for their beautiful display. Fall
is my favorite season. As the Irish poet and playwright Willian Butler Yeats wrote in his poem “The Wild Swans at Coole,” “The trees are in their autumn beauty, the woodland paths are dry, under the October twilight the water mirrors a still sky.” The cooler temperatures and
Tidewater Gardening
shorter daylight hours of October signal the time to start preparing the home landscape and garden for the winter.
Plant cool-season annuals like pansies, flowering cabbage and kale. Watch your thermometer on colder nights. A windless, cold, clear night usually means a killing frost. If you take the time to pro -
vide some frost protection, you can keep your Chrysanthemums and Asters blooming for quite a while longer. A small frame covered with cheesecloth or an old bedsheet placed over your plants on frosty nights can add a month or more of garden blooms.
If you planted tuberous begonias outside in pots, let them dry by withholding water or wait until the leaves turn yellow. Then, either remove the tubers from the pots or bring the entire pot in and store it in a cool, dry location away from frost and freezing temperatures. If you planted them in beds, dig them and let them dry naturally. When they are dry, cut the tops back and store them in baskets or boxes of peat moss or crumpled newspaper. Tubers of caladiums are dug and stored the same way as tuberous begonias.
Frankly, Cannas are not one of my favorite summer flowering plants. To me, they tend to become ratty-looking toward the end of the growing season. However, if you do have them in the flowerbed, their
Tidewater Gardening
rhizomes should not be dug until the tops have been killed by a light frost. To store, cut off the stems of the plants and dig the rhizome clumps using a garden spade. Allow the clumps to dry and store them with soil still clinging to the rhizomes in an area where they will not freeze.
The best storage temperature for these bulbous plants, except for caladiums, is 40 to 50 degrees F during the winter. Caladiums must be stored at temperatures above 60 degrees F. Temperature is a very important factor in the proper storage of this plant. Gladiolas,
Dahlias, and other tender bulbs should be dug before the ground freezes and stored in a cool, dark area. Dahlia and Begonia tubers should be stored in a box of slightly moist peat moss. Gladiola corms can be stored in a paper bag without additional packing. Check them occasionally for rot or mice damage. Discard those that have rotted and control mice problems with a mouse bait placed in the storage area.
Most homeowners think spring is the best time to plant trees and shrubs in the landscape. However, October and November are generally considered the best time for moving plants in the landscape. The cooler temperatures allow the plants to get their roots established. Garden centers and nurseries usually stock a good selection of woody plants at this time of year.
You can transplant deciduous trees and shrubs after they become
Tidewater Gardening
dormant, usually after the first or second hard frost. You can also transplant evergreen trees and shrubs earlier in the fall before they become dormant. The exception to fall transplanting is pine seedlings. They do poorly when transplanted in the fall because
they cannot develop sound root systems before winter. Consider a couple of concerns when planting trees and shrubs in the landscape. Plant trees at least 6 feet away from sidewalks and concrete pools so growing roots will not crack the concrete. Also, remember the mature height and spread of the plant. This will reduce maintenance problems in the future. Plant a low-growing ground cover such as bugleweed or winter creeper to minimize the look of open spaces between new shrubs. October is a good time to do maintenance of the trees and shrubs in the landscape. While you can identify them easily, prune dead and diseased branches from
trees and shrubs. Old, fallen leaves may contain disease inoculum for next year’s plant infections. Remove any infected debris around the plant’s base and dispose of it. We usually recommend mulching newly planted trees and shrubs to reduce weed problems and to conserve moisture. In the fall, however, waiting to mulch until after
the soil temperatures have reached 32F is usually a good idea. Mulches applied too early can do more harm than good. Mulch is used to keep soil temperatures constant and prevent frost heaving, not to keep it warm. In October, the trees and shrubs start to harden for the upcoming cold weather. Remove mulch around the stems of shrubs and trees to encourage this process. This will also discourage mice and vole damage to the stems during the winter.
Conifers with poor color or weak growth may respond to a light application of a complete fertilizer between mid-October and midMarch. Light pruning of both needled and broad-leafed evergreens
Tidewater Gardening
is recommended in the late fall to encourage a strong framework and help the plant overcome any snow damage. Remove any weak or crowded branches.
Remember to water evergreen shrubs thoroughly before the ground freezes, especially if we have a dry fall. Evergreens continue to lose water by transpiring during the winter. Still, when the ground is frozen, the roots cannot replenish the water lost through the leaves or needles. Also, hold a bagworm picking party will be held in October to remove the bags from the trees. This will help reduce the amount of spring hatch from overwintered eggs in the bags and help
to reduce the amount of spraying you may have to do next year.
In the vegetable garden, October is cleanup time. Remove any dead or dying plants. Compost the debris if they do not contain disease problems. Use a shredder to cut up the plant debris before placing them in the compost pile. This will encourage faster decomposing of the plant material. If you do not have a shredder and have only a small amount of materials, run it over with the lawn mower. This works very well if you have a bagging mower. Then, rake up the cut material or empty the bag into the compost pile.
If the ground is dry and workable and the garden site is not
subject to soil erosion, consider plowing it in the fall and letting it lay exposed over the winter. Latefall tilling can help control insects such as corn borer, corn earworm, cucumber beetle, squash bug and vine borer by exposing overwintering insects to winter conditions. It also makes soil preparation easier in spring.
Another alternative is to mulch the entire garden with straw in the fall to a depth of 4 to 6 inches. Then, in the spring, only pull back the mulch in the areas that you plan to plant. However, you will need to do this a couple of weeks before planting to give the soil time to warm up.
October is a good time to start harvesting, drying or freezing the herbs from your herb garden for winter use. Before the first frost, remove green tomatoes from the plants. Either ripen them in a brown paper bag or lift the entire plant and hang them upside down in a warm spot to ripen. An alternative to prolong the season a little bit is to use some harvest-extending fabric like Re-may. Cover the plants in the early evening and remove it in the morning. This may carry you through for several weeks or more, especially if we have a mild fall. However, this material will not protect the plants when we get a really hard frost.
Harvest winter squash once the vines die back, but definitely before a hard freeze, and continue
harvesting like fall crops such as beets, cabbage, carrots, cauliflower, kale and leeks. Alternatively, some root crops such as carrots, onions and parsnips can be left in the ground and dug up as needed if your garden soil is well drained. Apply enough mulch to keep the ground from freezing, and the crop will be kept fresh until needed.
With a little planting effort now in October, you can speed up the timing of that first new growth next spring by as much as a month. After soil temperature drops below 60°F., spring-flowering bulbs of tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, Siberian squill, dwarf irises, Anemone, and crocus should be planted. Be sure to select healthy, disease-free bulbs. If any bulbs you purchased are soft or have an off odor, discard them in the trash can. They have begun to rot. Some gardening experts recommend adding bone meal or bulb fertilizer into the planting hole as you prepare the soil. Most spring flowering bulbs should be in the ground by the early part of this month, except for tulips, which may be planted until early November.
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/.
When Cowboys Rode the Chesapeake
by A.M. Foley
James Atkinson thought a foggy night in 1946 was his “most memorable experience during my 37 years on fireboats…the night the Esso Camden and William S. Halsted rammed each other off Sandy Point.” Atkinson, captain of Deluge , responded to an SOS. “As we approached the scene, we could hear the roar of the fire before we could see it.”
The Camden had been inbound from Texas with 70,000 barrels of high-octane aviation fuel. From Deluge , “it was like looking in a blast furnace. The Camden had a 50-foot gash in her side and the gasoline was blazing. Flames shooting fifty feet into the air…. The crew—wearing life jackets— stayed on board and did a magnificent job, even though the whole
Seagoing cowboys survey the damage to their ship, the William S. Halsted, November 1946. Peggy Reiff Miller collection, courtesy of Ray Zook
Cowboys
thing might have blown sky-high at any minute.” Between all their efforts, the fire was brought under control. Miraculously, no injuries were reported among those firefighters, nor those aboard Halsted , which suffered minor fire.
A maritime strike had already delayed Halsted ’s departure from Baltimore for over a month. Repairs to her bow required that she return for seventeen days in drydock. Time was of the essence for her cargo, two hundred twentyeight cows, most of which were still on deck. Before being lifted aboard, they had all been “serviced” and
had schedules of their own. Despite their ill-starred departure, benefits from Halsted ’s cows were to long outlive memory of the spectacular collision. Halsted ’s mission of mercy began with one man’s efforts to alleviate suffering from the Spanish Civil War. Dan West had left Indiana farmland to administer relief to its victims. His pacifist Church of the Brethren had joined Quakers and Mennonites to help suffering civilians on both sides. While doling out milk to refugee youngsters in 1938, the Indianan thought to himself, These children don’t need a cupful of milk, they need a cow.
By the end of the ensuing WWII,
off
Moving hay bales on a ship could throw one
balance. Photo by Eugene Souder
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/.
Sunday School children pay farmer Paul Rhodes for their heifer in 1944. Photo courtesy of Kathy Fike Mow
Cowboys forces retreated across Europe, UNRRA assisted Displaced Persons who gradually came under Allied authority. Based on West’s practical program and support from pacifist congregations and others (Kiwanis, Lions, Rotary, etc.), livestock were donated for the destitute. Rural Brethren and their partners recruited volunteer stock-tenders eager to do their part. UNRRA agreed to arrange and pay passage for dairy and draft animals and their tenders.
Dan West’s church had organized the Heifer Program and partnered with the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Agency. As Axis
One Halsted tender, Pastor Robert Ebey, felt a “terrific bump” three hours out of Baltimore, when they collided with Camden . “Both ships were set on fire by the explosion. Our fire was very insig-
202 Morris St., Oxford 410-226-0010
Years in Business We Know Books! Fall Hours: Fri. to Mon. 10-3
Dan West is honored for his service to Heifer Project on their 20th anniversary in 1964.
nificant—just a few scorched cows and bales of hay. The Esso Camden soon had the help of some fire boats, but still burned out of control for several hours.”
Author John McPhee interviewed Paul Washburn, who crewed on Halsted as an AbleBodied Seaman. As Washburn recalled, “Eight Quakers were along to feed and care for the cows. Three weeks to Gdansk. In the North Atlantic, half the cows had calves—a hundred and seven calves. We lost seven calves, one cow. In Gdansk, we discharged three hundred and twenty-seven head.” With over a million Poles displaced by the war, needs were beyond acute. Halsted surely gave ongoing relief to many,
The Treasure Chest
Cowboys
as emigree cows continued to multiply. Recipients had agreed to give first-born calves to other needy families.
Coordinating ship schedules and
accumulating live cargo and professional and volunteer crews was a monumental undertaking. Most shipments left from Baltimore or Newport News, but also Gulf and Pacific ports and several foreign countries. Stock tenders delayed in Baltimore stayed at the Seamen’s Branch of the YMCA or Brethren Service Center in New Windsor, Maryland on a $2.50 per diem. Those stalled in Newport News had the Catholic Maritime Club.
Stock-tenders came to be called Seagoing Cowboys, though cargoes eventually included bulls, horses, mules, assorted poultry, sheep, pigs, donkeys and goats. Cows were notoriously bad sailors, but the Halsted Quakers had it easier
Tidewater Residential Designs since 1989
Homer Kopke’s seagoing cowboy crew, August 1946.
than tenders aboard Earlham Victory. She sailed from New York for Trieste, Italy on June 29, 1945 with three hundred forty-six horses. In below-deck rows of stalls, horses faced head-to-head across a walkway under five feet wide, leaving stock-tenders little room. They
were at the mercy of any ill-tempered horses as they worked from side to side. One diarist noted, “Got snipped on the ear today. The horses are very mean and continue trying to bite you as you are feeding and watering.”
A cowboy was fortunate if his freighter carried a veterinarian to tend wounds. On a tossing ship, winching swaying hay bales from the bottom hold was hazardous enough without getting nipped for the effort. Swinging bales caused injuries, but all manner of accidents were inevitable among seasick landsmen tending frightened stock on storm-tossed ships: bites, kicks, hay bale hook-punctures, innumerable broken bones… Near the end of hostilities, trips were especially dangerous, but tenders got to share their return voyage with jubilant homeward-bound troops.
In the month after VE Day, Clarence Rosenberger and Byron Royer were aboard the Liberty Zona Gale with 346 horses intended for Yugoslavia. Rosenberger noted, “We went up the Adriatic in convoy just
These powerful jaws could make a powerful bite. Photo by Charles Lord
Cowboys
Managing hay bales being hoisted from the bottom hold could be dangerous on a rocking ship. Photo by Charles Lord
behind the mine sweeper. Our sharp shooters would blow up dislodged mines.” On July 19, 1945, they unloaded at Trieste, diverted to Italy because of Yugoslavia’s disputed status. As Royer wrote home, danger lay all around cowboys, even after arriving safely: “There’s a lot of loaded ammunition laying around and one guy just about got blown up by a bazooka shell, and two other guys were playing with a hand grenade, and they heard it sizzle, and then
ran from the pillbox when it blew up. Nobody has been hurt yet by these shells.” Two week later, SS William J. Palmer followed with another load of horses and struck a mine. All crew and cowboys survived, but three hundred horses went down with the ship.
Group leader Clarence Rosenberger later reflected, “Primarily we filled a pressing need by aiding in moving relief goods to war-stricken people…. We have the satisfaction of knowing that the stock we cared for is now helping to provide food for hundreds of people. Some of us whose consciences will not permit us to further the war effort found in this an opportunity to serve Christ, our nation, and mankind in a constructive way.” Along that way, tenderfoot cowboys took needling from salty crewmen, who liked to remind them, “Land is just two miles away—straight down.”
SS Zona Gale sailed November 11, 1946, this trip from New -
SS Zona Gale in port, November 1946. Photo by Jack Shoff
The narrow isle between stalls in the ship’s holds gave horses ample opportunity to grab hold of their caretakers.
port News, with three hundred seventy-three horses. Being hurricane season, the Atlantic soon got rough. With hardly time for seasickness, about 5 a.m. two cowboys were on deck, the bow down in a swell, when a huge wave struck the forward section. As one diarist recorded, “The ocean struck with a vengeance!...One [cowboy] was nearly washed overboard, saved only by being buried under several bales of hay. Both were very badly hurt.” A Kansan had suffered a compound leg fracture, broken shoulder, and jaw; another a broken pelvis. The hurricane raged for two days while U.S. Navy doctors radioed prescriptions to Zona Gale ’s veterinarian. Eventually the Gale was able to put into England, where the injured could be hospitalized. It was months
before they could return to the States. Despite the best efforts of cowboys and crew, the storm took forty-five horses.
From the Gulf coast, Mississippi stock donated for Greece left Gulfport in 1946 aboard Calvin Victory. Journalist Norman Matthews went along. As cows were unloaded in Piraeus and Patras, he toured devastated villages and scenes of Nazi massacres.
Before sailing back to the U.S., Calvin Victory stopped to search for stowaways. Matthews reported, “After three hours we had 22 gathered on the deck—twentytwo of the most miserable looking humans you could imagine.”
A horse about to set foot on solid ground in Italy, February 1946.
Photo by Elmer Bowers
Cowboys
Watching them beg to stay aboard “was pitiful, but ashore they had to go…. Most of you can’t realize how lucky the people of the United States are.”
By the time UNRRA handed off to other organizations in September 1948, it had partnered with the Heifer Project on three hundred sixty voyages, benefiting war victims in Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, Poland, Greece, Albania, Ethiopia, China, and Italy. In four years, seven thousand Seagoing Cowboys staffed the UNRRA voyages. Thereafter, the Heifer Project itself carried on, expanding efforts to assist poverty-stricken families become self-sufficient.
Eighty-some years after inspiration struck Dan West in Spain, Heifer International is a global, non-denominational, non-profit organization, relieving poverty on the same pragmatic basis: helping others help themselves. Expanding efforts beyond Europe, Heifer International breeds many more
species overseas, as various as oxen, water buffaloes, bees, llamas, camels, frogs and rabbits. Clients receive any needed training in husbandry and share resultant offspring with others. More information is online at heifer.org/.
Since “retiring,” Peggy Reiff Miller, a former resident of Sharpsburg, Maryland, blogs at seagoingcowboysblog.wordpress. com/. Her grandfather Abe was a cowboy. Over the years, she has accumulated many photos and firsthand accounts from interviews. She wrote a fictionalized book for youngsters, and a book of nonfiction adventure stories for adults is in the works.
All photos in this story were courtesy of Peggy Reiff Miller.
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.
"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
Maple Syrup Makes Everything Sweeter
When it comes to making maple syrup, timing and temperature are just about everything. During winter, sugar maples go dormant, just as other deciduous trees do. This helps the trees conserve their energy during the coldest, darkest part of the year.
Warming daytime temperatures
signal to the trees that springtime is near, and their sap begins to flow. This sap provides energy for springtime growth and budding green leaves.
Farmers tap the trees with metal spigots that allow the sap to drip into covered buckets. The sap itself is barely sweet and has more water
than anything else, but with time and heat, maple sap is transformed into syrup and sugar. Small-scale producers still produce maple syrup in family-owned sugar shacks. Fitted with wood-burning stoves and evaporating pans, maple sap is progressively reduced to a fine syrup, losing as much as 90 percent of its original water content.
While maple sap is clear, the
syrup that comes from this slow evaporation process can vary in color from a delicate clear amber to an opaque brown that borders on black. The color of the syrup corresponds well with its flavor, with the darkest syrup tasting the most intense.
It’s not just flavor that corresponds to the color and clarity of maple syrup, but also micronutrients. According to a 2015 study published in Food Science and Technology
Research, all maple syrups contain antioxidants, but the darkest syrups tend to have the highest antioxidant capacity. They also tend to be a richer source of various minerals, such
as calcium, zinc, magnesium, and phosphorus. These darker syrups are typically produced later in the season than lighter syrups.
The color of the syrup corresponds well with its flavor, with the darkest syrup tasting the most intense.
Grade A Golden
The lightest syrup in both color and flavor. It typically comes from the earliest tapping.
Use it as a finishing sweetener drizzled over homemade vanilla ice cream, Greek yogurt, or fresh berries.
Grade A Amber
It has a light color and a rich ma-
ple flavor. Try it over pancakes or waffles or swirl it into vinaigrettes and marinades. It’s the most versatile of the grades.
Grade A Dark
The syrup has a dark, reddishbrown color and an intense, robust maple flavor. It’s perfect for people who love a deep maple flavor. Drizzle it over baked apples, stir it into hot cereal or use it as a base for barbeque sauces.
Grade A Very Dark
This is the darkest syrup and is typically produced late in the season. It has a pronounced, strong maple flavor and works well in baking breads, sweets and spice cakes
Tidewater Kitchen in which the maple flavor might otherwise be lost.
Maple Shortbread Cookies
This maple shortbread recipe makes buttery cookies infused with the sweetness of dark maple syrup. For this recipe, we use einkorn. It’s an ancient variety of wheat with a richer flavor and more nutrition than modern strains. It has a delicate crumb and is perfect for cookies and shortbread.
1/4 cup maple syrup, organic 1/4 cup organic sugar
3/4 cup salted organic butter, softened
1-1/2 cups all-purpose einkorn flour
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Blend all ingredients in a mixer until the mixture begins to clump.
Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and form into two balls. Roll one ball out to 1/4-inch thickness. Use a cookie cutter to cut out the shortbread cookies and arrange them on the prepared baking sheet. Repeat the process with the remaining ball of dough. Refrigerate for at least one hour and up to four.
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Transfer the baking sheet to the oven and bake for about 20 minutes. Place on a wire rack to cool completely before serving. Store in an airtight container at room tem-
perature for up to a week. Yield: 4 dozen small cookies.
Maple Dark Chocolate Sorbet Dark maple syrup is a natural
match for chocolate, bringing a complex sweetness to this easy sorbet. The result has the creaminess of chocolate ice cream with a much more robust flavor and no dairy.
2 cups water
3/4 cups Grade A dark maple syrup, organic
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon fine Himalayan salt
6 ounces 72% or higher chocolate
In a medium saucepan over medium heat, bring the water and maple syrup to a simmer.
Whisk in the cocoa powder and sea salt. Remove the pan from the
heat and stir in the chocolate until it melts.
Using a whisk, blend the sorbet base until smooth and mixed well. Pour into a bowl with an airtight lid, and transfer to the fridge for at least eight hours and up to 24 to cool.
Once the sorbet base is cooled, pour it into an ice cream maker and freeze it according to the ice cream maker’s directions. Serve immediately and enjoy or transfer the sorbet to the freezer and store for up to a month. Makes 1 quart.
Maple Vinaigrette
Maple and stone-ground mustard partner beautifully together, especially in this homemade maple vinaigrette. Amber-colored maple
Cindy’s “Good Home Cooking”
Mon.-Sat.: 6 a.m. to 2 p.m.
Want a good home-cooked meal without breaking the bank? Bring the family to Cindy's ~ Eat in or car�� out.
Just
Tidewater Kitchen
syrup provides just enough sweetness to counter the intense acidity of apple cider vinegar for a smooth, gently sweet dressing. This vinaigrette is particularly nice served over winter and autumn salads of arugula, apples, pears and walnuts.
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons Grade A amber maple syrup
2 tablespoons raw apple cider vinegar
2 teaspoons stone-ground mustard
1 shallot, minced
1/4 teaspoon fine Himalayan salt
Put all the ingredients in an 8-ounce mason jar and shake vigorously until the vinaigrette begins to emulsify. Serve immediately over fresh salad greens or roasted or fresh vegetables. Store the vinaigrette at room temperature up to two days, or store it in the fridge for up to a month.
Shake the vinaigrette thoroughly before serving to reintegrate the oil and vinegar. If you store the vinaigrette in the fridge, bring it to room temperature several hours before serving, as some olive oils will solidify when kept at cold temperatures. Yield: 1 pint.
Dark Chocolate Granola
This bittersweet dark chocolate granola makes for a decadent breakfast, especially when paired with homemade yogurt.
Maple syrup gives the granola a subtle sweetness, while cocoa butter and cacao give it a rich chocolatey flavor balanced by the warmth of cinnamon and cloves.
1-1/2 cups sprouted rolled oats
1 cup sliced almonds
1/2 cup cacao or chop 72% or higher chocolate
1/2 cup Grade A dark maple syrup,
organic
1/4 cup coconut oil
1/2 teaspoon fine Himalayan salt
1/4 cup cocoa powder
1 teaspoon ground Saigon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1-1/2 teaspoons chocolate extract, optional
Heat oven to 250 degrees F. In a large mixing bowl, stir the oats, almonds, and cacao nibs together.
Warm the maple syrup and the coconut oil in a small saucepan set over medium heat.
When the oil melts, whisk in the salt, cocoa powder, cinnamon, and cloves until well combined. Turn off the heat and stir in the chocolate extract.
Pour the coconut oil mixture over the oats and almonds, stirring until well coated. Transfer the granola mix onto a baking sheet, and then bake for 40 minutes, stirring once or twice to promote even cooking.
Remove from the oven and allow to cool completely, then add your cacao nibs or chopped chocolate. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to a month. Makes 8 servings.
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.
C. ALBERT MATTHEWS
Where Integrity Meets Innovation INC.
All Quiet on the Sound A novel by
B. P. Gallagher
Chapter 14: Weighty Words
Aside from its oppressive atmosphere, the day of Leon’s dreaded interview with Deputy Calhoun began like any other workday. Smoother than usual in one respect, since Leon, full of apprehension, was awake and pacing upstairs before sunrise. As a result, they left the island early enough to drop Maggie and Clara off at the cannery enroute to work.
When the brothers pulled up to the docks, Bunky was still working on his first cigarette and cup of
coffee of the morning. “Well, I’ll be! You boys are right about on time.”
“You don’t gotta act so surprised.”
“Where you’re concerned, Leon Higgins, I do. Anyways, good thing you are. I got a long list of jobs need doin’ ’round the shipyard today.”
“Give ’em here, Bunk,” said Earl. “We could both use something to get our minds off other matters.”
“That’s what I like to hear. I got plenty for ya.”
Bunky Hodges was a man of his word. Earl and Leon had no choice but to devote their full attention to the dockmaster’s herculean list
All Quiet informant had given her bad intel when she burst in the back door with Dougal on his leash.
of labors. If the hours of strenuous work before them couldn’t quell—or at least deaden—Leon’s nerves, Earl didn’t know what could.
At lunchtime, the brothers ate bologna sandwiches at the end of the pier. While they ate, they reviewed Leon’s talking points for the deputy’s impending visit. In rehearsal, at least, Leon comported himself well. His responses to Earl’s questions were convincing enough, rendered more so by his genuine impatience with the process. You’re wasting both our time with this, his delivery said. Whether Leon would manage the act under Tyler Calhoun’s scrutiny was another question. They would find out soon enough.
To be safe, Earl insisted on more mock interrogation on the drive home. As they drove, he prodded Leon about his access to the tugboat and when he had last seen Pastor Calhoun alive. He even sprinkled in a few trick questions aimed at getting him to admit more than he should know about the location of the sunken truck. By the time they pulled into the driveway at home, Earl was thoroughly satisfied—and Leon thoroughly aggravated—with the repetitions.
No one appeared as dark fell and the tide seeped over the Moore Island land bridge. Leon grew more agitated by the minute. Earl was beginning to think Maggie’s twitchy
“Earl, Leon? Somebody’s walking up the lane.”
“Walking?” said Leon. “The deputy?”
“I think so. He’s tall and skinny, and he’s got a hat on.”
Earl eyed his brother. Leon’s lips drew to a thin, worried line, halfhidden by the bristly winter overgrowth that covered the lower half of his face. “You’ll do fine, Leon. Just keep your cool, and you’ll do—”
“I know I will, goddammit!” Leon snapped. “We gone over it enough damn times, ain’t we?” But he looked flushed and nervous. Earl’s heart was racing along too, come to think of it.
“Hush up, both of you!” Maggie peeked through the kitchen window. “He’s coming up the path.”
“Alright. Just act natural,” said Earl. The cautionary words earned him a glare from Leon, but he couldn’t help himself. This was his little way of alleviating the sudden, crushing weight of Deputy Calhoun’s approaching footsteps. Why was he walking, for that matter? Was this his game, creeping up to houses after dark and spooking folks into giving themselves up?
A knock at the door like thunder, followed by the funerary peal of the tiny brass doorbell— clang-clang. For a breathless beat the siblings stared at one another in horror.
Then Dougal bolted barking down the hall, tiny nails scrabbling on the bare floorboards as he charged the front door. Maggie went to restrain her pup, and Earl to meet their unwelcome visitor. Meanwhile, Leon hung back in the dining room, tugging at his beard. Earl could almost hear his brother ticking off rehearsed responses in his head. It made him glad of the extra practice. Never mind if Leon had found it grating, so long as it stuck.
“Evening, Deputy. To what do we owe the visit?”
“Evening, Mister Higgins. I need to speak to your brother for a minute. Mind if I come inside?” More formality than question, since the deputy was already stamping off his boots on the doormat.
Earl stepped aside and invited the inevitable. Tyler Calhoun entered the house on a chill breeze. He peeled off his leather gloves as he stepped over the threshold, extended a bare hand for Dougal to give a perfunctory sniff. Tipping his hat to Maggie, he removed that too and hung it on a peg beside the door, just as if he were entering the foyer of his own home. But his watchful lawman’s eyes roamed over every knot in the floorboards and seam in the wallpaper.
“Want me to take your coat, too?” said Maggie flatly.
“Thanks, but no thanks, Miss
Higgins. I don’t plan to be here for too long.”
“Park around the corner, did you?” said Earl. “You might have some trouble driving home if so. Tide’s gotta be nearly in by now.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt. That’s why I came by boat today instead.”
“I wasn’t aware the sheriffs patrolled the Sound.”
“Not usually, and not extensively in the past. That’s what the Oyster Police are for, after all. But in light of recent events, you can expect to see my boat in the area more often from here on out.”
“Ain’t you deputies just part-timers? Not elected.”
Deputy Calhoun pursed his lips. “That’s right.”
“So…is that really in your jurisdiction? For that matter, does Moore Island fall under your jurisdiction?”
“I’ll be up for sheriff within a few years,” said Tyler Calhoun sharply. “And I’m free to do as I wish with my personal boat in my off hours. Now, did you say your brother was…?”
“In the den,” called Leon from the other room.
“May I?” said Tyler Calhoun. Earl shrugged, led him down the hall. The two men exchanged curt greetings, and the deputy said, “Why don’t you ask your brother and sister to take a walk? To give us a little privacy.”
“I’d rather stay here, if it’s all the
same,” said Maggie. “I was getting ready to put a pot pie in the oven.” That was a lie, Earl knew, but it set the right tone. This is our house—be about your business and get out.
“I’d rather stay put too,” he said.
“Okay, then.” Deputy Calhoun gave an exasperated sigh. “Leon, why don’t you and I take a walk instead?”
“Uhm…sure, I guess.” Leon glanced at Earl, expression uneasy. “Bit nippy to be walkin’ outside though, ain’t it?”
“Surely not too cold for a waterman such as yourself. Besides, I’m already adjusted to it from the boat ride over, and I don’t believe it’ll take too long.”
With little choice left in the matter, Leon donned his coat and scarf. The deputy slipped his gloves back on, settled his hat atop his head. Tipping its broad brim to Earl and Maggie in the doorway, he ushered Leon outside as if escorting an unwelcome guest from his house. A man accustomed to being heeded wherever he went, and it showed. The observation did not inspire great confidence in Earl as Leon was led away. Leon spared a last, worried glance back at his siblings before the door shut.
“He’ll be okay…?” The apprehension in Maggie’s tone made the statement a question.
“He’ll be okay, so long as he keeps his head on straight,” said Earl, pat-
ting her on the shoulder. “He’s been staying pretty dry lately, and we musta run through those questions you and I worked out a dozen times over. Now, don’t you got a pot pie to get to?”
“That was a bald-faced lie,” she said with a weak smile. “I was gonna fry up some scrapple with beans tonight.”
“Alright then, I’ll help you with that. We can’t be waiting in the windows when they get back.”
When Leon returned a short while later, he was shaken and alone. Entering the house without a word to his siblings, he shut the door behind him, went to the den, and removed a dusty bottle of scotch from the hutch. Popping its cork, he took a long pull straight from the neck of the bottle. Earl’s anxiety swelled to a crescendo as his brother guzzled unabated for several seconds.
Leon reeled, rocked back on his heels as he lowered the bottle. “Long time coming, that drink.”
Earl and Maggie exchanged worried looks. Earl spoke first. “How’d it go?”
“He walked me down to the graveyard,” said Leon, voice flat. “Took me to see Mom and Pop’s and Shane’s graves…asked me questions about them.”
“He did what? ” Maggie’s cheeks flushed with anger. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
Leon shrugged and hung his head, hangdog. “Seemed to think
All Quiet
talking about Mom would get me feeling uncharitable towards that old bastard Peter Calhoun. Maybe he figured I’d let something slip that way.”
“Sly sumbitch. That’s a dirty trick. He was trying to rile you up.”
“I know, Earl! Christ, I said as much, didn’t I?”
“Well, did it work? Did you give him anything?”
Leon paused for the barest moment before saying, “’Course not! Don’t you trust me none?”
Despite his brother’s vehemence, Earl was unsatisfied. That pause troubled him. So brief it could easily go missed in the context of a less
consequential conversation, yet it yawned like a canyon in this one. “What’d he ask you, exactly? What’d you say? The precise words, Leon. This is important!”
Leon slammed the bottle of scotch down onto the shelf of the hutch so hard that the glassware lining it jumped in place. “You think I’m so goddamn stupid, dontcha Earl?
Don’t deny it! I can see in your face every time you look at me! You’re always waitin’ for the next time that idiot Leon screws everything up. Aintcha?”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Well, I ain’t stupid, Earl,” said Leon, waving a finger in his younger brother’s face. His breath reeked of scotch; amber beads of it hung sus-
Tidewater Times December 2024 Christmas Cover Contest
Rules and Image Criteria:
◆ Image must pertain have a Winter/Christmas Theme
◆ Portrait/Vertical Orientation
◆ Room at the top for the Name and Date (Tidewater Times · Dec. 2024)
◆ Deadline for Submission is October 20th to info@tidewatertimes with high res photo and “Christmas Cover Contest” in the subject line.
Tidewater Times December 2021
pended in his beard and mustache. “I’m the man of this house, and it’s ’bout time you two started acting like it!”
“Nobody called you stupid, Leon,” said Earl, cursing himself in his thoughts. Why the hell hadn’t he thought to wrest the bottle from Leon before they had this talk? Getting a straight report from his brother now that he had downed half a fifth of high-proof whisky would be next to impossible.
“Well, I’m sick n’ tired of you lookin’ over my shoulder all the time!” shouted Leon. “How come it’s me you’re always so worried about? I ain’t the one killed the Pastor, am I? That was our dear little sister, remember?”
“Hush up about that! This is exactly why I worry!”
“Who’s gonna hear it, huh? I already told that bastard Tyler Calhoun to get back on his boat and get bent, and he went and did it licketysplit.”
“You did what? ” said Maggie, aghast. “Leon, you can’t—”
“Don’t you dare start in on me too, Maggie! The only reason we’ve even gotta worry ’bout this at all is on your account, so I won’t hear it outta you!”
“Leon.” Earl struggled to keep his voice level. “Can you please humor us for a minute? Then you can down the rest of that bottle if you want, for all I care. Now, what exactly did you say to the deputy?”
“He started off by saying it was common knowledge Pop had a feud with Pastor Calhoun after Mom died, tried to act all slick like he wouldn’t blame us Higgins kids if we had some sorta grudge against his cousin based on that. So I says to him I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about, and could we please wrap this up so I could go inside ’cos it was cold. He took that as a way to steer me into talking ’bout the marina and the tugboat, pretended to be all understanding-like. Says something along the lines of, ‘I’m sure you had a long day on the water already, running tugs for a living.’ Then he asked me a couple a’ questions like we practiced, ’bout the tugboat and whether I ever use her on weekends or haul vehicles with her. He gave farm tractors for an example, but I knew what he was getting at.”
“And?” said Earl, impatient.
“Annnddd I didn’t give him nothing, like we practiced! What’d you think was gonna happen? Tyler Calhoun ain’t as slick as he thinks he is.”
“Good, good.” Earl breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s when you told him to leave, is it?”
Leon’s expression darkened. “Not quite. Then, well—and this is about when we got to the graveyard, mind—then he says to me how he remembers the day they pulled Shane out of the Sound. Remembers like it was yesterday, he says…” He trailed off, lost in his own memories of the tragedy.
“That’s all? He just brought it up and left it like that?”
Leon shook his head, shoulders slumping. “Said it was a damn shame nobody got there in time to save him…and too bad nobody was minding the boy in the first place.”
“How cruel!” said Maggie. “He’s got no right!”
“He ain’t wrong.” Leon’s voice hitched, face on the verge of crumpling. “He said folks on the Shore got long memories for those sortsa things, and he ain’t wrong on that neither. Then he says if I wanna be remembered on the right side of this one—meaning Peter Calhoun turning up missing—that I oughta tell him all I know ’bout where to find the pastor and his truck. I was pretty much seeing red by then, so I says to him ‘if Shore folk got such long memories, he oughta know where that truck is, seeing as they dredged it up already.’ And as for that preaching pervert of a cousin of his, I says, maybe if anybody woulda paid mind to him slinking ’round whisperin’ falsehoods and worse all these years, then maybe he wouldn’a turned up missing in the first place!”
Earl and Margaret stared speechless at their elder brother, Earl with a hand clapped to his forehead. It came away slick with panic sweat. He felt like he might faint, blood pulsing in his ears, the corners of his vision fuzzing, equilibrium awry.
“Then I told the deputy to get the fuck back in his boat and off Moore Island. And he listened,” Leon concluded.
Maggie sat down in Pop’s favorite armchair and began to cry. Earl was close to tears himself, but his abject horror at this turn of events was quickly being overtaken by anger.
At Pastor Calhoun’s mortal sins, at Deputy Calhoun’s trickery, at Leon’s blundering mistakes—the target didn’t matter. Anger was the better, more actionable effect. With anger he could fight, but with the other emotions, those that threatened on the periphery, lay only hopelessness and despair. The urge to curl up in a ball and sink down somewhere deep, deep, deep in the mud where no one would ever find him. A temptation he must resist at all costs. He lashed out instead.
“You’ve been played for a fool, Leon! He fed you a tired old line of bull and you let him dance you around on it like a marionette, and now you mighta gone and implicated all of us! Ain’t you learned not to heed that horseshit about Shane by now? I mean Jesus, I musta seen you get in half a dozen fistfights over the same taunt since we were kids!”
Leon was red-faced. “So I told him to get bent—So what? I coulda gone right ahead and hit him in the face for saying that, like you said! But that’s what he wanted me to do, I think.”
“No, you imbecile!” Earl shouted,
too incensed to think of sparing his brother’s feelings. “You’ve just buried us, and you don’t even have the wits realize it!”
“Take it back! I—ain’t—stupid! ” Leon shoved him, forcing Earl into an awkward pirouette to avoid tangling his legs with the coffee table.
Maggie cried harder than ever, rocking back and forth in Pop’s overstuffed armchair with her arms wrapped around her knees. Dougal paced anxious circles around the chair, yipping and whining for his mistress’s attention.
“Wanna fight me too, then?” said Earl. “Fine, take a swing. But you better make it a good one, ’cos I’ll—”
To what shouldn’t have been his surprise (considering he’d invited it), Leon punched him in the face. A stabbing left that he didn’t follow up, but at the end of that lanky frame the jab hurt bad enough. Earl reeled, right eye smarting and blinded with tears, which he scrubbed away with the back of his hand.
Leon looked a touch surprised to have landed the blow also. Lowering his fists, he said, “You told me—”
Visibility restored, Earl launched himself at Leon with a leaping left hook. His range was off, and Leon took the punch on his cheek instead of his chin, which was for the best. Earl was too angry to pull the punch, and if he had landed flush on the chin he might well have put his
brother out. As it was, the walloping blow staggered Leon on scotchwobbly legs into the hutch, which rocked against the wall in a tinkling cacophony of liquor bottles and antique glassware.
“Stop! Stop it! Both of you!” Maggie screamed. The tussle was already over, a bout contested via verbal pugilism only punctuated by actual blows. But the damage was done. Having traded one punch apiece, an explosive opening salvo in what had been slow-boiling hostilities, the brothers stared daggers at one another from across the den.
“You’re gonna ruin us!” Earl yelled. “All of us!”
Without another word, Leon stormed off down the hall and up the stairs to his room. Maggie followed suit a moment later, fleeing in tears to her bedroom with Dougal at her heels. The puppy’s claws chattered like small arms fi re on the floorboards as he trotted to keep up with his distraught mistress. Upstairs, Leon commenced stomping like the thud of artillery fi re. Not knowing what else to do, Earl went to his room also. Doors slammed like bombs going off. The Higgins household at war with itself.
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.
Waterfowl Festival 2024
A Celebration of Art, Conservation and Outdoor Adventure
The Waterfowl Festival, one of the nation’s premier events dedicated to the celebration of waterfowl and the natural environment, returns to Easton, MD, November 8–10. The festival, now in its 53rd year, offers a diverse range of activities that highlight the art, culture and conservation of the Chesapeake Bay region and beyond.
Festival Highlights
This year’s festival promises an unforgettable experience for attendees of all ages, with activities that cater to art enthusiasts, wild-
life lovers and outdoor adventurers alike.
Fine Art and Photography Exhibits
Renowned wildlife artists and photographers from across the country will showcase their work in a series of exhibits spread throughout Easton. Visitors can expect to see stunning paintings, sculptures, decoys and photographs that capture the beauty and majesty of the natural world. The works will be available for purchase, providing a unique opportunity to own a
Waterfowl Festival
piece of art that reflects a deep appreciation for the outdoors. This year’s featured artist is acclaimed Texan sculptor and painter Ronnie Wells. Wells is a crowd favorite, and his works will shine in the newly expanded PNC Art Pavilion in the middle of the historic downtown.
Going to the Dogs!
All of our outdoor venues are dog friendly! Three amazing exhibits specifically focus on our lovable furry friends. Dog lovers will be thrilled by the retriever demonstrations at the Bay Street Ponds, the incredible competition between professionals and amateurs alike at the Delmarva Dock Dogs exhibit, and the lightning-fast field trial dog demonstrations at the Chesapeake Bay Pavilion. At each pavilion, visitors can enjoy a variety of beverages and foods to help make their experience tasty and fun.
Quackin’ Trail for the Kids!
The Waterfowl Festival is a family-friendly event with a range of activities designed to engage and educate children. New this year is the Quackin’ Trail! Parents can pick up a map for their kids at our ticket kiosks. The trial will lead kids to educational activities such as the Phillips Wharf Fishmobile, “Skyhunters in Flight” raptor show, The Live Mermaid story times, face painting and art activities throughout the festival. Kids 10 and under are free with the purchase of an adult ticket. Don’t miss the kid’s calling contest at the Sportsman’s pavilion.
Shop ’til You Drop!
If you need something to play outdoors, the festival will have it! Shopping pavilions include the Sportsman’s pavilion featuring the ever-popular Molly’s Place Sporting Goods, the Chesapeake Bay Pavilion full of crafts and items you need for water sports, including some great boats from Northpoint Marina, the Marshland Mercan-
tile with artisans and festival store merchandise, multiple fine art pavilions and the incredible Buy, Sell, Swap collector’s venue. New this year is the Guyette & Deeter auction and tailgate swap, complete with an incredible display of Cobb Island decoys in the Harry M. Walsh Waterfowling Artifacts exhibit. Easton’s downtown merchants will
also be stocked and ready for visitors. Visit DiscoverEaston.com for current business listings.
Conservation Corner
The Waterfowl Festival is committed to the conservation of our wild open spaces and will feature presentations and exhibits from leading organizations in the Chesapeake Bay Pavilion. Learn about the latest efforts to protect and preserve vital habitats, and find out how you can get involved in local initiatives.
Eastern Shore Feast!
No festival is complete without great food, and the Waterfowl Festival is no exception. Enjoy a variety of culinary delights throughout downtown. Local restaurants will feature incredible Chesapeake Bay
Maryland & Delaware
fare, and the food trucks scattered throughout will offer something delicious for everyone. Thirsty? Our guests over 21 can enjoy our new Duck Blind and Decoy bars, the famous Bullitt Garden Tasting Pavilion and the ever-popular Beer Wetlands.
Since 1971, the Waterfowl Festival has raised nearly six million dollars for conservation and education efforts. Proceeds from the festival support various environmental, art, student scholarships and cultural initiatives, ensuring that future generations can understand and enjoy the beauty and diversity of waterfowl and their en-
Waterfowl Festival QUALITY
vironments. The festival also plays a vital role in supporting the local community, drawing visitors from around the country and boosting the regional economy.
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.
For more information about the Waterfowl Festival, including ticket sales and a full schedule of events, please visit www.waterfowlfestival.org.
Woodwind Quintet Highlight
Mid-Atlantic Symphony Fall Concerts by
Philip J. Webster
The Mid-Atlantic Symphony Orchestra, led by Grammy-winning conductor Michael Repper, will feature two electrifying overtures with two equally compelling symphonies in its “Fireworks of Fate” concert on Sun., Nov. 10 at 3 p.m. at the Todd Performing Arts Center at Chesapeake College in Wye Mills, MD.
Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 1 and No. 5 will be paired
with Louise Farrenc’s Overture No. 1 and No. 2 in a concert linking two composers that share intriguing musical connections that highlight their impact on classical music. Both composers were pioneers, with Farrenc drawing inspiration from Beethoven’s innovative symphonic forms and infusing their own distinct style into her compositions. They were both known for their groundbreaking approaches
to musical structure—Beethoven expanding classical forms while Farrenc skillfully mastered them in her symphonies, piano works and overtures. Each faced significant challenges in their careers— Beethoven with his hearing loss and Farrenc in a male-dominated field—but their dedication to pushing musical boundaries left a lasting legacy.
Maestro Repper underscored that Farrenc’s influence as a teacher and her growing recognition in recent years reflect the enduring impact of both composers. Their stories underscore how true innovation in music thrives on
talent and perseverance. “Couple that with Beethoven’s 5th, the most famous symphony in history, and the rare opportunity to hear two works by one of the very best and underperformed female composers, and our audience will experience a concert of exceptional
Melissa Grimes-Guy Photography
energy, passion and excitement.”
The Orchestra’s 27th season as Delmarva’s only professional symphony orchestra will also highlight its woodwind principal players in the opening of its 2024–2025 Ensemble Series on Sun., Oct. 20 at 4 p.m. at the Academy Art Museum in Easton, MD.
The season will continue with the perennial favorite “Holiday Joy” concert attracting holiday revelers on Thurs., Dec. 5 at 7:30 p.m. at the Todd Performing Arts Center in Wye Mills with the Orchestra featuring seasonal favorites and tenor Jonathan Pierce Rhodes, followed by a Holiday Brass Quintet ensemble sell-out on Sun., Dec. 22 at 4 p.m. and the New Year’s Eve sell-out at 7 p.m. with renowned soprano Kresley Figueroa, both at Christ Church, Easton.
The March 23 Elizabeth Loker International Concerto Competition at the Todd Performing Arts Center
in Wye Mills will be a highlight of the season, featuring three young instrumental soloists performing, backed by the entire Mid-Atlantic Symphony Orchestra. Rare among global competitions, the competition last spring attracted 155 instrumental solo musicians competing from 12 countries worldwide and 24 states.
The spring concerts begin with “Mozart’s Jupiter” with Mozart’s symphonies No. 1, 40 and 41 on Thurs., April 3 at 7:30 p.m. at the Church of God in Easton. No. 1 was written by Mozart as a child and No. 41 was his fi nal symphony, regarded as one of the most ingenious works of western music ever written. It will be followed by “Romantic Triumph & Celebration” on Thurs., May 8 at 7:30 p.m. in Wye Mills including brother and sister Felix Mendelssohn’s Symphony No. 4 (Italian) and Fanny MendelssohnHensel’s Overture, and Schumann’s Cello Concerto with Sphinx Competition-winning cellist Gabriel Martins. String Quartet and Woodwind & Strings ensemble concerts on Sun., Feb. 9 at 4 p.m. and May 18 at 4 p.m. at Easton’s Academy Art Museum will conclude the season.
Tickets will be available at midatlanticsymphonyorchestra. org.
The Contested Election in 1876 on the ‘Shore
(written about 1941 by Louis C. Wainwright - transcribed, edited and with notes by James Dawson
“It wuz a trick, a low-down, politician’s trick. That’s what it wuz,” growled “Lige” Waters to himself as he trudged down Gengquakin highway from Princess Anne to Deal’s Island with his cronies, who in white hot indignation responded: “That’s what, Lige. That’s what!” He was
speaking of the defeat of Tilden and Hendricks in the 1876 Presidential election, the most notable election down Tangier way since the days of the Civil War.
When Tilden and Hayes ran for the presidency, there was a general interest throughout, in the voting,
but down Tangier way there was fervent heat. The resultant election was that the popular vote gave Tilden the majority, but the device of determining by the electoral voters of the states gave the election to Hayes.
That was before the days when psychiatry was applied to every action, before every little speech had “gravamen” and every tyro was a titled dignitary, or a man of science; yet “confidential talks,” “goodsbox” oratory and some slogans were in vogue, and did service as effectively as is now done with a parade of knowledge of things not known as with the rise of a robot psyche, since it has been discovered that psychol-
ogy has no psyche.
Yes, such were the slogans and appointed the speakers who should lift up the gates for irrigation to flood the districts with oratory, and scatter such hot tamales? as they deemed winning and attractive.
The rank and file of the voters were kept in fervor with pamphlets, and peppy articles in the papers, while the local bosses “angryfied” as best they could, grew excited, spat tobacco juice, and called unevangelical names in order to stir and warm things up for election day. Toward the fall, senators, party leaders, eminent lawyers all “speechified” in order; then came the candidates visiting every district and pouring plenteous libations of promises.
The campaign must have good talkers to make impressive speeches. What may impress is difficult to state. A good campaigner arranges his speech much as proprietary medicines are prepared—some of many ingredients, that will be, thus effective all along the line in this and fluent utterance. Said one listener: “Just hear him! C’yant he just talk?” Right or wrong! This was not in mind, but merely the April shower of words. “C’yant he just talk!”
The Tilden and Hendricks election was, perhaps, the first completely free election since the Civil War. It was red-hot. Then it was down Tangier way the political calendar was near to a new arrangement, and history, if not U.S. history. Tangier
history might henceforth be measured as the eras before and after “Tilt’n an’ Hendrake’s ‘Lection.”
Election day now drew near and the loudspeakers were booming their first barrages.
There were no soldiers guarding the polls [as there were during the Civil War elections].
Freedom came forth exhilarated to assert her claims; and her emotions were spent in a hot campaign and a free vote.
Cried the local orator, “Vote, my fellow citizens. Vote for freemen!! Let no chains rattle from your limbs. Vote down this strangling of our blood-bought states’ rights, our right to self-government; vote down the men who would have these rights
whelmed under national control; vote down this high tariff wall erected to enrich a few; vote for Tilden and Hendricks; vote for them and give them a cheer: Hip, hip, hurrah!”
The speech had Greek fire in it; the huzzahs sounded from the county seat through St. Peters, through Monie, Gengquakin, Dames Quarter and Rock Creek across to the islands in Tangier Sound Deal’s, Smith’s, Tangier and Hollands.
As election day approached the party bestirred itself. They had raised a fine flagpole consisting of two tall fine hickory trees spliced together with iron bands.
Every day, Old Glory fluttered from its sixty-foot height. Every evening, a wee hot coal from the fire of freedom (someone who graciously wished to “sarve” his country) glowed with eloquence and fervor.
The fever was rising as the tide; was reaching the lowlands and its islands
I doubt that in the region there has ever been a hotter election campaign than that one proved to be.
As from time to time I drove to Princess Anne and returned over the uninteresting twenty miles of lowland road, often overflowed in places by high tides, the people of Gengquakin regions frequently would come from their cabins to make inquiry. The number of people who sometimes might emerge from
one little house was astonishing.
Sometimes I saw them lined up on the sunny side of a house or the “lee” side of a cottage for warmth and shelter from the winds, while they waited the passing of some travelers who might impart views of “the doin’s” in town.
How many generations found accommodation in the small cabins I may not venture to assert, but among those who sought the sunny side of their little cabins I have seen graybeards, strong and healthy men or women, and children of various ages. How they stowed them all I cannot say, but I remember the story; there was an old woman who lived in a shoe who had so many children she knew not what to do. It may be analogous.
Some of the small cottages must have crowded representatives of three generations in their small quarters. At any rate, elderly, middle-aged and young often were seen seeking warmth from the sun, as they awaited news; and then lined up on a log to enjoy the warmth of a sunny day. As I approached, the older people would step out to the roadside and hail me to ask if I had any news, and whether I thought “Tilt’n an’ Hendrakes” would get “‘lected.”
Old Glory fluttered in the fall winds, and with the approach of frost the campaign grew hotter and hotter. In the county seat crowds from all districts gathered round the speakers’ platforms near the fine hickory flagpole to hear the competing
saviors of the land denounce rotten politics, and particularly High Tariff and Paternalism.
The various crowds clapped and roared their approval, and spat tobacco juice, and some indeed grew very tipsy. This was markedly true of Littleton Ball, who that night slumped completely into his old ways. Lit had reformed and had taken to ladies and literature, for at that time the ladies of the country town circles were bent toward Belles Lettres, and discussed with their company “The Last Days of Pompeii,” “The Light of Asia” and other such popular novels of the day.
Lit was attentive to the ladies and tried to encompass all tastes, so that he could be seen almost any day
devouring some kind of “sweetness and light,” most likely some Buddhistic paganism, poeticized after modern pattern, and denominated “Light of Asia”.
A few days before election, politics became as hot as tabasco sauce, and that is hot enough.
Lit was excited and drank and drank until he could brook restraint no longer. He tossed his hat and hurrahed; he went in and out among the various groups inciting action; and at last in his zeal minus judgement, he procured an axe with which to cut down the flagpole.
In this he was prevented, but while engaged in the effort he espied the upper porch of the hotel where the ladies of the town’s elite society were
Contested
gathered to watch the campaign proceedings and to hear savers of the country speak.
The Washington Hotel was old and historic, had been operated for much more than a century, and its porch was sustained with short pillars.
The excited Lit beheld in fact the literary coterie of the town with whom he discussed “The Last Days of Pompeii,” as he called it.
He waved his hat and shouted, “Harrah ladies!” then he essayed to climb one of the porch pillars to the place where the ladies were seated, an action which scared the ladies and caused them to scream with alarm and flee.
Some strong hand dragged Lit down, greatly to the women’s relief.
Right there Lit’s social ambitions were scotched; he was no more acceptable in the town’s social circle, and no more discussed “Adam Bede” or “Asia’s Light” with the ladies, or “The Last Days of Pompeii.”
But the campaign culminated in the grand parade and cavalcade just before election day.
The riders also bore torches. The well-groomed statesmen, the candidates (other than presidential), the orators and “sentiment formers,” and other saviors of the country, for the most part, were astride of some gallant charger, that curvetted, champed and featly pranced.
After them came the mounted representatives of the districts of the county, some in gala attire.
The cavaliers from Mt. Vernon district were draped and festooned
with decorative crows foot and other evergreens.
They rode erect and impressive, and the very horses were proud and prancing, and if any neighed it was as a trumpet blast resounding: “Hurrah for Tilt’n an’ Hendrakes!”
Salvos of confidence rolled down the long procession, and campaign songs rolled lustily with skyward tenor and reverberating bass, with ever and anon an explosive “Hurrah for Tilt’n an’ Hendrakes!” interjected.
As I was riding up from the shore to see the procession the folk along Gengquakin road were out to sun themselves and gather the news. They hailed me: “They’s gwine to be big doins’ in town tonight, ain t
they? My, I wish I had a good hoss, I’d jine ‘em. Don’t yo’ feel purty sho’ Tilt’n an’ Hendrakes will win? We’ll be gittin’ the news from the one we kin.”
The music, the singing, the torches and the shouting! It is doubtful that such a foaming, effervescent campaign had ever before filled the political world of the region.
What they did in Andrew Jackson & John Tyler’s day I do not know. The region is naturally a hot spring for politics.
Repressed during the war, soldiers at the polls even through Grant’s elections—how could there be great enthusiasm? But freemen in a free country were chortling and marching to cast their vote. Tilden
Since
and Hendricks were the symbols of the new freedom, the new Democracy—“Hurrah for Tilden and Hendricks!!” Some such was the feeling throughout the country and down Tangier way.
I rode up from the shore with a companion to see the parade. We were well mounted. When we arrived, the parade was well started and was turning into Main Street. There was a slight opening, and we turned our horses into it and joined the cavalcade about its middle.
The blood tingled, the horses were on their mettle; the long cavalcade seemed quite martial. Enthusiasm
prevailed in man and beast, we wheeled in line and sat erect and proud as cavalrymen.
I could not vote, but I could join the fun for I was just passing my teens and vibrant with the thrill of youth.
Other parades, generally speaking, are ordered, orderly without sparkle or resistance; but this parade was a living creature all aquiver, but without disorder. It was a parade of the people, by the people, and for the people, without a hint of totalitarianism in it.
As far as the county was concerned Tilden and Hendricks were elected; but it was not so nationally. The electoral votes of the states
which gave the election to Hayes, though the popular majority was for Tilden, was in many eyes but a device to defeat the will of the people.
The county was sore, the people were angry; some said they were ready to rush to arms; said one from Gengquakin, “It’s a low down politician trick; it ain’t right; no such, we’ll fight it out. Whar’s our leaders? Horray for Tilt’n an’ Hendrakes!”
Notes by J.D.:
The controversial Presidential Election of Nov. 7, 1876, pitted the Republican Samuel J. Tilden, governor of New York, and his V.P. choice, Thomas A. Hendrick, governor of Indiana, against the Democratic picks, Rutherford B. Hayes and William A.
Wheeler. The preliminary count gave more popular votes to Hayes, while Tilden was one vote shy of winning the electoral majority and thus the election. However, the electoral votes of three states—Florida, Louisiana and South Carolina—were disputed. To resolve this and any future issues, Congress created the Electoral Commission in 1877, which awarded all the disputed electoral college votes to the Democrat Hayes, giving him a one vote electoral majority and thus the Presidency. This ended the Republican lock on the presidency since the Civil War, which also ended Reconstruction with the withdrawal of Federal troops from the South. It should be noted that at that time the Republicans were the liberal party
and the Democrats the conservative party.
Election shenanigans don’t seem to have changed any since Tild’n an’ Hendricks except then, in the days before electricity and electronic enhancement was available in rural areas, a loudspeaker was literally that—someone who spoke with a loud voice to “angrify” the crowd.
Gengquakin, also spelled Geanquakin and pronounced locally “Jing gaw kin,” is a creek in Somerset County. The name was also used by Wainwright for the Dames Quarter Deal island area and the road from Princess Anne, the county seat, to Deal Island.
The Washington Hotel, now the Washington Inn & Tavern, is still in business at 11784 Somerset Ave. in Princess Anne, although as shown by an old postcard, the porch roof has since been slightly remodeled. In Wainwright’s day, the porch had a fl at roof surrounded by a railing, which made a balcony that was accessed by a door on the second floor that still can be seen. Although the balcony where the ladies gathered to watch the parade is gone, the columns that Lit attempted to climb are still there.
James Dawson is the owner of Unicorn Bookshop in Trappe.
NEW LISTING - Talbot County 5-acre Estate Sale. Diamond in the rough. 3 BRs and 2 baths. Heat pump replaced August 2024, the water heater is less than 3 years old, and there’s a newer roof on the house. 24x24 detached garage, run-in shed for equipment, and an additional detached building by the pond. Sold “AS IS”. $380,750
NEW LISTING - 816 Chapel Farm Dr. - Easton - Enjoy one level living in this 3BR, 2 bath split bedroom design. Sunroom with vaulted ceiling and sliding glass door leading to the fenced-in backyard. Many upgrades have been done in the past 3 years. Owner/Agent $475,000
e Wylie | $479,900
e Aidan | $469,000
The "Wylie" and the "Aidan" are the first of ten homes to be completed in Easton's new luxurious downtown subdivision Sandy Lane off N. Washington Street. Sited on fully sodded and landscaped lots, both homes offer easy, affordable one-story living featuring fresh, contemporary floorplans with 3 bedrooms and 2 luxurious full baths, open living, dining and kitchen areas with vaulted ceiling, separate laundry and attached one car garage. Call for more information!
Changes: Fishing
Excerpt from a memoir by
Roger Vaughan
Part 2 of 2
This couldn’t happen again. Commercial fishing on the Northern Edge of George’s Bank was stopped in 1994 to protect the habitat for spawning Cod and other bottom-dwelling fishes. But in 1980 I joined a fishing trawler out of Gloucester, Massachusetts, for a ten-day trip.
January 1980:
The net was back overboard, combing the bottom for another haul while we worked fast to process 5,000 pounds of fish. We sat in the pen, listening to Joe relate the latest news that he had heard on his radio while we removed pink, purple-veined, membrane-
thin bags of roe; fluted strings of codfish intestines perfectly sculpted like origami cuttings, tough, slippery tubes that often required three turns around a finger to tear loose; soft, tofu-smooth, pallid wedges of liver; swim bladders swollen to bursting from the quick and unexpected rise to the surface;
Fishing
and little maroon hearts. The accumulation of these things was soon more than ankle deep. Eventually, they were washed into the night sea to be attacked by the hungry birds from the snow–flecked darkness.
To show how pleased he was, Captain Nino turned on the deck speakers and put a tape into the machine. The first song to come blaring through the slosh of the water and the thrumming of the diesel was “I Never Promised You a Rose Garden.”
In 1602, the English navigator Bartholomew Gosnold reported that the codfish were so thick in Massachusetts they were “pestering” his vessel. In 1619, England imported 300,000 barrels of salt cod. By 1714, some 70 fishing vessels were sailing out of Cape Ann, Massachusetts (now Gloucester and Rockport). Over the years, Gloucester’s fortunes have hit extreme highs and lows, like those of any one-industry town. But whether Gloucester has been riding the crest or wallowing in depression, the town has become synonymous with the worst of hardship, the highest of adventure, the best of courage.
At times, Gloucester’s losses have been overwhelming. The sleek clipper schooners introduced in 1871 to shorten the trip to the
Banks were paid for in lives. In the six years between 1873 and 1879, losses totaled 120 vessels and 900 men. Over the next 18 years, 264 vessels went down with 1,614 men. The swift clippers proved to be too shallow of draft, too lofty of rig, too susceptible to capsizing. Even now, with modern equipment and electronic aids, two or three ships are lost each year.
Given the nature of Gloucester’s business, there has been no dearth of daily heroics. The name of Howard Blackburn stands above all others. Blackburn, a young Nova Scotian sailing out of Gloucester, was separated from his schooner while fishing 60 miles off Newfoundland in the winter of 1883. A gale struck, and that first night his dory-mate froze to death. Blackburn bailed and pounded ice to keep the dory from foundering. Knowing his gloveless hands would freeze he curled them around the oars so they would stiffen in a useful place. Then without food or water, he rowed to the coast with his mate’s body in a five-day ordeal that is unmatched in the annals of endurance at sea. He lost all his fingers and most of both thumbs, but that did not deter him from making a solitary voyage to England 12 years later.
Joseph Branceleone was never put to such a test, but he doesn’t seem like a man who would have hesitated to curl his freezing hands
Fishing
around a pair of oar handles if it had been necessary. When he was a boy growing up in Terrasini, Sicily, he had an argument with his teacher and quit school. He heard that a neighbor was taking his boat down the coast to fish for a month. Another man was needed, so Joseph signed on. He made the fisherman’s wife promise not to tell his mother until after the boat had left. He was eight years old.
Joseph came to America in 1922 at the age of 24. He left behind a 10-month-old son and a pregnant wife. But he was seeking opportunity. Lucia, his wife, had talked him out of going the first time he had the chance. If he didn’t take
advantage of the second opportunity, he risked being drafted into the military for a second tour of duty. After four years of working as a laborer in Detroit and hating it, Joseph returned to Sicily.
On the boat home he met some men from his hometown who told him about fishing in Gloucester. “Father came back long enough to plant me and take off again,” Nino says with a big grin. When Joseph got back to the United States, he couldn’t get a job on an “Italian” boat. Nino laughs at that. “They thought he was a gangster from Detroit.” In 1927 he began working as a deckhand on an “American” boat. He was good. At 29, he had close to 20 years of experience on the job. He learned the same way he had
always learned: by watching. “No one ever taught me to fish,” the old man says.
By the mid-1930s, Joseph Branceleone had attracted a partner with money to build a boat. It was the right time. Having hit bottom during the Depression, Gloucester was enjoying a boom. By 1940, the harbor would boast more than 200 vessels. In 1937, the new boat cost $36,000 to complete. Joseph’s partner put up $6000. Joseph put up $2000 and ran the boat. Then, and only then, did he feel he had set down roots in America. He sent for his wife and four sons. Their arrival would help push the Italian population of Gloucester to near 500 that year.
When they landed, Nino picked his father out of the crowd and threw his arms around his knees. The old man wasted no time putting his sons on the water. When they were still in school, they fished summers. Then they came on as regulars and watched the master at work. They learned about how the fish come first.
At that time, Gloucester’s fortunes were high on redfish, a small, plentiful creature that could be iced without being cleaned and that lasted a long time in the hold. The old man proved redfish could be taken just as easily at night, and the 24-hour workday began. In the winter, he steamed south to find bass, porgies and fluke. He would
October 5: 12-5 p.m.
Wine Tastings of up to 16 Italian wines from our Italian Importers
Simpatico tasting Glass included in ticket
Food Tastings of delicious Italian specialties including cheeses, sauces, spreads, olive oil cake, and more Talbot Watermen with Oysters for Donations
Live Music with Accordion Artist, Sergio Fresca Bocce Ball on the lawn for kids of all ages
Trattoria Simpatico Restaurant cooking up your lunch ticket orderscheck out our event space
Special Discounts up to 15% on selected wines, foods and gifts. Join us for a special weekend as we celebrate All Things Italian!
Fishing
often augment the crew with local blacks. After a few days on the Branceleone work schedule, they would shake their heads. “And you call us niggers,” one of them once said to the old man.
He worked them and himself half to death, but crews fought to go with him. He knew how to find fish. Without electronics, other boats kept land in sight and used fixed ranges. The old man went offshore, trusting his ability to run timed courses. He dropped markers as he went, like Tom Sawyer unrolling string in a cave, and he dared the weather. If he heard a big storm system was due in 36 hours, he would take off, load the boat and return before the storm hit. Some -
how when other skippers tried it, it didn’t work out so well.
Joseph and other Sicilians brought more than fishing methods to the New World. They brought a whole way of life, one that would have been difficult to sustain in a place other than Gloucester, which is off the beaten path on a cape north of Boston. And Gloucester has always relied on foreigners to bring in the catch. In 1895, Gloucester had 6,600 Canadian residents. In 1915, there were 1,000 Portuguese in town. The Italian population is still growing.
The family gatherings at Joseph and Lucia’s house have a timewarped, Old-World feel about them. The men—sons and grandsons—talk business in the parlor. The women, mostly daughters-in-
law, sit in the kitchen watching TV and drinking coffee. After a while, the two groups pass in the dining room as the men take over the kitchen for coffee and pastries. One or two women stay in the kitchen to serve. At this point the old man, who is now 83, has usually had enough gabbing. He will take out the section of net he is making by hand, hitch it to the back of a kitchen chair, thread the big needles and go to work. He is still the titular head of the company under which the two boats operate. And he is the president of Gloucester Marine Railway, a shipyard. But his sons know that work with the hands makes him feel best. They lavish praise upon his netting and make requests for it. He complies with obvious satisfaction.
In this world, the separateness of women starts early. It is a tradition stemming from long voyages, widow’s walks built onto rooftops, and from Sicily, home of two female goddesses. Sicilians venerate mother above all things. In fact, the heavily protected pedestal upon which Sicilians place women is so lofty that it is ultimately lonely—and cold. In this society of absentee husbands and fathers, the women run the houses, make all domestic decisions and raise the children with the relatively empty, but effective threat of what their father will do to them when he comes home. Although many of
Find Your Fall Style with
10:30-5:30
Fishing
their fathers were fisherman, both in the old country and Gloucester— and they themselves married fisherman—the women profess to hate the vocation. They understand that their competition, the “other woman” in their husbands’ lives, is not flesh and blood, but a fishing boat. That has a strange effect upon their psyches.
Antonina, Nino’s wife, is a slim, attractive woman in her fifties. She is a fisherman’s daughter, born and raised in Gloucester. When she was 17 years old, “Nina” wanted to take a job at Woolworth’s. “My father probably gave me a whack,” she says. “He thought there was no reason for me to work. He was fisherman! He brought the money home.” Nina says she fell in love
with Nino at first sight, when she was 11, when the two were in fifth grade. Young Sicilian girls had to refine the technique of recognizing love at long distance. They couldn’t go out on a date until they were engaged—and even then they had better be home by 10. When they were 17, Nino asked Nina to go steady with him, to let him know the answer after his next trip. “I’ll tell you right now,” she said: “I’ll wait.” She waited for the young fisherman. While Nino was in the army, she waited. She wrote him three letters a day for a year. She has been waiting for Nino ever since. She cleans the house, bakes and freezes delicious pastries and watches TV. Once a week, she visits her mother. She shops with her sister-in-law, who is also called Nina and is her best friend. She goes to church.
And that is all. Her life is keyed to the three days or so out of every fourteen when the boat is in. She considered exercise classes but decided against it. “Sometimes when he is fishing, he will get in a blue mood, and he’ll call on the radio. I am afraid if I am out, I would miss the call. If I did, it would break my heart. I could get sick over it. So I stay home—I clean, I bake.”
Nina says her job has become more difficult as the years have passed, as the children have departed as she and Nino get older. The wind that shakes the house at night, the bad weather, the disturbing dreams, the constant leavetaking are not things one gets used to, she says. She can’t bear to see
Make Your Next Move Next Level
the boat off anymore, to watch the lines being cast off. She wishes Nino would take more time off so they could be together more often. Nino says maybe he will, although he has seven more years to retirement age. The need to press hard isn’t as great as it was. The boats are both paid for. Nino makes up to $60,000 in a good year. But all of the brothers find it difficult to think of easing back even a little.
The legacy of the family struggle is fresh, and their need to be a part of that struggle is great. Once a year, Nino takes his wife on vacation. They go on a cruise to the Caribbean, where they stop at seven islands in two weeks. Nina says her shyness disappears then. They
Monica Penwell Associate Broker
410 310-0225
mpenwell@ttrsir.com
St. Michaels Brokerage 410 745-2596
monicapenwell.sothebysrealty.com
Fishing
enjoy the strangers they meet. Pictures of them on board the ship sit framed upon the living room tables.
Not a man aboard the Joseph & Lucia II doesn’t bemoan every voyage the minute it begins. Every crewman schemes of alternate ways to make a living. Peter consoles himself with thoughts of vacuum cleaners. Even Nino confesses that he almost bought a gas station once, and he still imagines himself running a small grocery store. But they all continue to fish, year after year. Wild horses couldn’t take them off the boat. Even Giuseppe admits that when he’s ashore, he misses the life. “I stayed in for a month after my daughter was born,” Giuseppe says. “When the boat came in, I was there. When they went out, I went down to help them cast off. So help me, when I watched them go without me, I had a lump in my throat.”
They will all admit, if only in private, that theirs is a terrible life.
Their satisfaction seems to come from being able to sustain it. The awareness of suffering among both the men and the women verges on pride. In the wee hours of one endless morning, Jackie said, “My ten-year-old boy, it is for him I suffer. So he can maybe go to college.”
The men do take special pride in their role, warriors tangling with the deep-mouthed sea to bring home not only good wages but food for the table as well. Providers. And they savor the recognition of their rugged existence both on the streets of Gloucester and among their fellows.
There is no lifting of morale quite so marked as that of a fishing crew with a full hold when port is in sight. In the case of the Joseph & Lucia II, that sighting means the skyline of Boston, where they unload. The docks swarm with the familiar faces of “lumpers” who unload the fish, agents, wholesale and retail buyers, friends and the crews of other boats ready to welcome them from the sea with a raft of insults worthy of their reputa-
tion as high-liners. Then there is the auction, where prices are determined. And the easy work of keeping a sharp eye on the scales as the fish are weighed out. Tomorrow there will be paychecks. Then it’s a two-hour steam to Gloucester and home for three, maybe four days. Maybe five, depending on the weather. And maybe only two. They are not really days off, those days ashore. The men are expected on the boat at 8 a.m.. to work an eight-hour day mending nets, repairing gear and painting. They are free at night, but even then, in the winter at least, someone must check the boat at midnight to make sure the furnace is working so the pipes don’t freeze. And after a few
precious evenings—into which they cram the pleasure of good meals, good sleeping, good movies, and good loving—it is time to take on fuel and ice once again. Once more the cars gather at the dock. The wives who can still stand it come to bid their men adieu. The Joseph & Lucia II drops its lines and steams out of Gloucester for George’s Bank once again. Perhaps there will be a whist game. But most of this crew of stalwarts take to their bunks before the trawler clears the harbor to store up sleep for the ordeal ahead.
-Photos by Roger Vaughan Vaughan.roger@gmail.com
Easton/Oxford: Situated on an expansive 2+ acre lot just off the highly sought after Oxford Road corridor, overlooking the 13th fairway of the Talbot Country Club Golf Course. Four bedroom, 2.5 bath brick colonial on a private lane offers generous living space as well as lots of room to expand. Wonderful deck with built-in seating overlooking the large backyard. Home features separate living room, dining room, great room with gas stove fireplace and vaulted ceiling as well as eat-in kitchen, primary bedroom suite with sitting room overlooking great room and bath with soaking tub and separate tile shower. This home is waiting for its new owners to make it their own! Call Peyton for additional details. $795,000.
COOKE’S HOPE: JUST LISTED
5,712 sq. ft. residence featuring imposing Stair Hall, large handsome Living Room with fireplace and built-in book/display cases. Formal Dining Room. Kitchen; Butler’s Pantry, Breakfast Room with relaxed sitting area. Office with full bath and closet. 10 ft. ceilings and crown moldings throughout. 2-car Garage with extensive overhead storage. Three second story BRs, 2 baths, huge walk-in closet and dressing room. Kitchenette and Laundry Room. Porches overlooking lake. Community nature trails, Fitness center. Dog park and pier. Recent property Inspection available. $1,395,000 .
TRED AVON RIVER
Private 4,250 sq. ft. 4 BR Southern Living home on deep sheltered cove off the Tred Avon River - minutes by boat from Oxford, the Choptank and the Bay. Substantial pier with boat lift. Large porches, Great-Room with vaulted ceiling and fireplace, 1st floor BR with 10 x 14 closet. Kitchen open to FR. 2-car Garage. Pool. 3+ acres. $2,625,000 .
