CAMP REHOBOTH HISTORY PROJECT
BY JAMES T. SEARS, PhD
A Tale of Two DANCE CLUBS THE RENEGADE & THE STRAND
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Above: Wayne Hodge Right: The Renegade
Letters 14 NOVEMBER 13, 2020
e stepped out from a Trailways bus, a sole suitcase in hand, and hair, well-past his shoulders, blew with the breeze. The drawn-out ride from DC to his summer destination was not uncomfortable. From Route 16 to his stop, though, was just minutes as the bus sped through the two lonely stoplights. In 1987, along Highway 1, there were no outlet malls, no chain restaurants, no townhomes—just farmers’ fields and an occasional business. On the town’s outskirts, along the service road to his left, he spotted Glen Thompson’s pale yellow and brown Renegade. He remembered first visiting the dance club and restaurant years earlier with DC friends. They enjoyed its beachy feel, the grand patio, and a dance floor with its low ceiling and “a dryer hose that went around the back of the bar with holes punched through with lights in it. It was wonderful!” The resort town had awoken from its wintery slumber. Along Rehoboth Avenue, traditional commercial establishments, some owned by the town’s leaders, were already open: Bob Derrickson’s Carlton’s Apparel and brother Donald’s nearby Sandcastle Motel, the Rehoboth Pharmacy which Gene Nelson had owned since the 1950s, and the office of Realtor Norm Sugrue at Lingo’s, a family name synonymous with Old Rehoboth.
There was the occasional car sporting a “Keep Rehoboth a Family Town” bumper sticker. Its advocates—Rehoboth Beach Homeowners’ Association and most of its band of city commissioners, the Anti-Gay Vigilante Movement, and Mayor Hughes—frustrated as the town’s queer presence was far from vanquished. The Washington Blade trumpeted Rehoboth as “an irresistible draw for ‘people like us’.” Wilmington’s Morning News, headlining “Rehoboth’s Growing Gay Population,” estimated 15 gay-owned businesses. Columnist Bill Frank asked readers, “Are the gays in Rehoboth Beach troubling you?” During the six years since Hughes’ infamous showdown about “gay food” at the Blue Moon, other queer-owned or -friendly restaurants like Mano’s, the Palms, Astral Plane, and Sydneys had opened. Baltimore Avenue, once a sleepy side street a block off Rehoboth Avenue, was, by 1987, flourishing. Flanking “The Avenue” was M-Style, a unisex clothing store owned by Debby Appleby and Beth Shinn, Terry Plowman’s Front Page restaurant, the Camel’s Hump which served Middle Eastern food, and Pat Whittier and Pegi Fuller’s Paper Nautilus B&B. Down the Avenue, a former rooming house and courtyard had been converted into eight specialty shops, ranging from Crysti’s women apparel to Carole and Deborah’s Elephant’s Trunk offering fine crafted toys. Toward Second Street, on the other side of The Avenue, was the Rehoboth Muse, an alleyway of boutique emporia partly owned by commissioner Norman Sugrue. Secrets on the Beach showcased Crazy Shirts of Hawaii in