November 2025 Tidewater Times Web Magazine

Tidewater Times

November 2025

Miles River - Tucked away on over six lush acres of premier waterfront, “Leggacy” is more than a home—it’s a lifestyle. With sweeping views of the Miles River, this extraordinary estate is a rare offering. It is a sanctuary of refined coastal living, featuring a sandy beach; substantial dock with 8’ MLW; pool and pool house; lighted tennis court; party barn; and a fire pit designed for gatherings under the stars. Surrounded by estate homes and farmland, “Leggacy” offers unrivaled privacy and peace, yet is just minutes from the charm of historic Easton or St. Michaels and the convenience of Easton Airport. Steeped in elegance and history, this grand home has been beautifully updated and impeccably maintained, earning its place on the prestigious Maryland House & Garden Tour. Inside, you’ll find exquisite craftsmanship at every turn—from intricate millwork and gleaming wood floors to gracious archways and custom built-ins. $5,250,000

The Calm in a Storm: Tracey F. Johns

Tidewater Gardening K. Marc Teffeau

Willie Nelson - Rolling On: A.M. Foley

Tidewater Kitchen: Pamela Meredith

Chasing Dreams, Even Still: Michael Valliant .

Between Two Worlds - A Mother's Farewell: Dan Hoyt

Festival of Trees - 40 Years of Silver and Gold

M.S.O. Makes Holiday Magic: Philip J. Webster.

All Quiet on the Sound (chapter 27): B. P. Gallagher

About the Cover Artist Jill Basham

“I am passionate about my art and aim to paint every day. There is always room for growth and learning. I’m not afraid to fail, as failure is a means to success. I most love painting landscapes and am particularly intrigued by how light creates mood. The landscape can be anything that catches my attention: country, city or ocean/water scenes. My goal is to try and get the emotion of the scene across to the viewer by matching the mood of the scene with my brushwork, color palette and value/temperature range. I enjoy painting outside, often times in a large format, but also love painting in the studio, where I have more time for reflection and can produce larger works. I will forever be learning and in turn, growing.”

Basham, is an award-winning artist. Honors include 3rd place in Plein Air Easton (2012);”Best Landscape” for National Oil and Acrylic Painters Association (2014); The Salmagundi Club’s Thumb Box Exhibition Award Winner (2014), as well as other honors and awards. Artwork hangs internationally, including the US Embassy in Sri Lanka, through the US State Department’s “Art in Embassies” Program. Articles and biographies about Basham’s work include “American Art Collector” and the book “100

Plein Air Painters of the Mid-Atlantic”, by Gary Pendleton.

Basham’s work has been featured in Plein Air Magazine’s “Why This Works”, an analysis of what makes a particular painting successful. Basham was juried into The Salmagundi Club, NYC as an Artist Member in 2012. Other memberships include: The American Impressionist Society, Oil Painters of America, The Working Artist’s Forum and The Mid-Atlantic Plein Air Painters Association.

The cover painting is titled Academy from First Annapolis.

New Location Opening Soon

Learning to Drive by

Helen Chappell

I couldn’t wait to turn sixteen. I couldn’t wait to get behind the wheel of a car and go where I wanted to go and do want I wanted to do. A driver’s license meant teen freedom, and teen freedom was what I was looking for.

It was the era of the Beach Boys, when our bands sang about cars and driving around with your best girl and surfin’ USA. This last wasn’t important to me, and I didn’t have a boyfriend, but I desperately wanted to get out. Out of the house

and away from my parents, away from the hell that was high school, where I was not in with any crowd, and desperately a polar opposite of the popular cheerleaders.

Whether I knew it or not at the time, I was like 96% of American teens in the mid-’60s. Hormonal, insecure, a hopping bag of hope and premature cynicism, with an incipient rising social consciousness and a desperate yearning for something more than the century-old academic program of my high school and

Learning to Drive

the weary disapproval of my parental units at home.

Monday-Saturday

Oh, if I knew then what I know now. If my parents had smothered me, I wouldn’t blame them. I was obnoxious and whiny and knew it all. Well, some things never change, but at the time, I was pretty unbearable, I think, even for a teenager. In my imagination, I was driving toward my dreams, which in those days mostly involved folksingers, handcrafted ethnic clothing and being a hell of a lot more hip than the dreary provincialism of small-town life. I lacked the courage to run away to Sausalito and live on a houseboat among beatniks, which was my secret dream, so the next best thing was to get a driver’s license and have fun, fun, fun ’til Daddy took the T-bird away, as the Beach Boys sang, and as one of my BFFs liked to quote in dripping irony. Our little

Learning to Drive

clique was totally about irony. It was our defense against the jocks and the cheerleaders, the hoods and the hoodettes, which were pretty much your choices in my high school. Our little group liked to fly under the radar.

Back in those days, when dinosaurs roamed the earth (and, believe me, when you had road kill then, you had road kill), schools still offered driver’s ed. So we got to drive with a very nervous man named Mr. Messenger who smoked in the driver’s ed car and had an extra set of brakes on the passenger side. He would chain smoke and try to guide nervous teenagers through traffic.

We also got to see Wreck on

“Flying Mallard” Watercolor by guest artist Sandy Alanko

Learning to Drive

Highway 9. Before slasher films, cautionary movies about car wrecks were about the goriest thing most of us saw. Some of you Baby Boomers who were also around in the dinosaur days will recall similar films where the wages of poor decisions in driving were graphically illustrated with real-life accident scenes, crushed cars complete with blood on the two-lane blacktop and severed heads rolling out of the wreckage. Stuff like that. It might sound tame now, but back then, it gave people nightmares. I liked learning to drive with Mr. Messenger. He was ironic, too, and he was pretty patient with me, because I was too timid to try any hot-dogging maneuvers, and I was polite. “Sorry!” I would chirp when I ran a red light downtown, to the sound of

screaming brakes and metal hitting metal. No wonder the man chainsmoked. Five hours of that a day, and I’d probably be smoking something stronger than cigarettes.

Successfully completing driver’s ed, I still had a slight hitch before I could get that piece of paper that would unleash me on the unsuspecting drivers of the world. I was only 15, and you had to be 16 to get a license. True, I had a learner’s permit, but that still meant you had to have a licensed driver with you. We were a three-car family. My brother, a true automotive maven, had a series of more and more exotic sports cars—Austin-Healeys, even a Fiat—which he was smart enough to forbid me to even touch. Every year, my father, as a good doctor did back then, bought my mother a new Cadillac. I had absolutely no desire whatsoever to drive anything so

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Neavitt Enjoy panoramic views of Duck Cove from this light-filled Neavitt home. Hardwood floors, pellet stove, and open living area with wall of windows. Loft for office or studio, two baths, deck, and garage. Just minutes from St. Michaels. $350,000

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Neavitt - Broad Water Views – Designed to showcase stunning vistas, this 3BR home features wood floors, fireplace, and a fabulous kitchen. Expansive deck, patio, gazebo, and private pier create ideal waterfront living near St. Michaels. $1,150,000

Talbot

8198

$800,000

$1,000,000

700

Beaver Beck Ct., Easton

8134 Easton Village Dr., Easton $799,000

S. Morris St., Oxford $695,000

320 Perry Cabin Dr., St Michaels

25292 Sandy Point Rd., Denton $818,000

Learning to Drive

ugly (tail fins, anyone?) that, even with power steering, handled like a school bus. Besides, my mother didn’t want me junking up her matronly Caddy with loose paper and lost books.

This left my father’s car. Now, my father was raised on a farm, and in those days, doctors were united on The Ford Question. Fords were the Old Man’s religion – maybe because his first car was a Ford. For a man who kept himself immaculate, as a surgeon should, my father kept a car so dirty it was worthy of a hard news reporter on a major urban daily. Yes, it was just that dirty.

In those days, Caddys were actually trendy, mind you—like Mercedes and Beemers today. But when he wasn’t working, I got the Fairlane to practice driving. I remember that car very well, and with a great deal of affection. Under the dust, it was a handsome brown, with a darker brown leather interior buried under stuff. It was large, but not as large as the Caddy, and I drove that car all over the farm roads and the blacktops. There wasn’t a lot of traffic, which was just as well, because the roads were lined with deep ditches, and if I’d gone into one of those, the car would have to be pulled out with a farm truck and I’d never hear the end of it, as my father had Eastern Shore Alzheimer’s: he could forget anything but a grudge. So I bumped around and around and up and down until I felt pretty comfortable behind the wheel. Comfortable enough to take my mother out for a ride.

The interior was filled with field detritus from our farm and his gunning and fishing life. He rarely washed his cars, and, as my brother said recently, “he drove the hell out of them.” My father thought nothing of heading his ’62 Ford Fairlane off the oystershell drive and right into a field, bounding on those shocks as we drove over ruts and ditches at a right nice pace. Then, come Monday morning, he’d drive the car to work. He didn’t care. As long as his wife had a classy car, he was cool. At the best of times, my mother was high strung. Having a teenaged daughter will do that to you. Driving with me, she was white

Learning to Drive

knuckled and white faced. Her lips were set in a thin line, and she hit an imaginary brake pedal on the passenger side floor every time it looked as if I were going to make a faux pas, which was often. On the open road, I was speeding up and slowing down, trying to get the feel for what it was like in traffic, however thin it was on a back country road. “That’s it!” Mother finally exclaimed, clutching the dashboard after a truck carrying bushel baskets of crabs nearly rear-ended us. “Turn around and let’s go home.” As we squabbled, I made a right turn into a farm lane, then panicked. I was terrified to turn back out into the road again. As often happens in these situations, the cars were spaced just far enough apart so as not to give a novice driver a chance to sloooooooowly back up and avoid the deep ditches, so I was getting a little hysterical, and my mother was running out of patience. “I can’t do this! I can’t do this!” I was nearly in tears. “There’s a space! Do it now!” my mother said. I had plucked the poor woman’s last nerve. “I can’t!” I whined. Not so grown up now, are we? “Tsk!” My mother made a sort of noise that was unique to her – a sort of tongue click that expressed anger, frustration and her absolute certainty she could do the task at hand better than anyone else. She leaned over, put her foot on top of mine and

hit the gas. The Fairlane was already in reverse, and it swung out into the road as she grabbed the wheel and turned it. In seconds, we were neatly facing the direction of home. And we drove back in dead silence.

Of course, I passed the test and got my license. My parents bought me a little car for my birthday. I found transportation was great but that you can’t run away from yourself. At least not until you get to college and no one knows you. But my mother would never again drive with me. And I can’t blame her. She had a bad heart that would eventually kill her, and she didn’t need the extra stress. You know what? Now that I’m two days older than dirt, I hate driving. Hate it, the very thing I lived for all those years ago. If I were a rich woman, I’d hire a driver.

Helen Chappell is the creator of the Sam and Hollis mystery series and the Oysterback stories, as well as The Chesapeake Book of the Dead . Under her pen name, Rebecca Baldwin, she has published a number of historical novels.

7 W. Belle Rd. ~ Ridgely $495,000

Commercial or Residential Property in downtown Ridgely Two-story building built in 2006 and in excellent condition with C-2 zoning offers mixed-use potential. Previously a pharmacy, gift shop, and ice cream parlor with handicap access, detached storage garage, and 14-space paved lot. Can be converted to a single-family home.

356 St. Aubins Terrace

Easton $398,000

Charming cottage on 1/3 acre with a park-like setting! 3 bedrooms, 2 baths, a spacious family room with cathedral ceilings, and wraparound deck overlooking the private backyard. Bonus, a detached studio—perfect for an artist, office, or guest space.

Helping Buyers and Sellers Reach Their Dreams Since 1989

2025 Waterfowl Festival

November 14-16, 2025

Plan your route at the 2025 Waterfowl Festival to find something fun for everyone!

Venues for the Waterfowl Festival 2025 offer fun for the whole family! Follow the Quackin’ Trail, ride a bus to your favorite exhibit, wine, dine, dance in the streets and shop ’til you drop at the art exhibits and exciting outdoor and indoor pavilions.

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

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

Chesapeake Bay Pavilion - The Easton VFW Grounds will host a variety of activities such as the incredible raptor exhibit

Waterfowl Festival and Fly Fishing Demonstrations. Enjoy an interactive kids’ archery game by Bass Pro Outfitters, disc golf demo with Off Course and a Quackin’ Corner kid’s spot hosted by M&T Bank! Eat and drink at the famous Beer Wetlands sponsored by Kelly Distributing and enjoy a seasonal cocktail and eats from Gourmet by the Bay’s iconic mobile bar. The Sweet Fix truck will be there too!

“Skyhunters in Flight.” Browse our indoor/outdoor vendors such as North Point Marina, various artisans, Mason-Dixon Outfitters, North American Retriever Club demos and conservation exhibitors including Department of Natural Resources.

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

Party at the Ponds! - Whether you’re a hunter, angler, boater, dog lover or just an outdoor enthusiast, you’ll find something to interest you at the festival’s very own Bay Street Ponds property presented this year by The Oaks Waterfront Hotel. Festival guests can enjoy a glimpse of the hunting and angling world with the Talbot Retriever Club Dog Demonstrations, Kids’ Fishing Derby

The Duck Blind, Tasting Tent, 4 Dogs Patio Paw-ty, and the Cocktail Corner - Beer lovers unite! Craft beer and specialty cocktails will be on the taps at the indoor Duck Blind venue, the tasting pavilion and the Academy Art Museum’s cocktail corner presented by Delmarva Craft. Warm up and pick up your winter swag from RAR Brewing, Big

Waterfowl Festival

Truck, Brackish Life, Waterfowl Festival licensed apparel shop and more in the Duck Blind. Featuring the Waterfowl Festival’s very own seasonal blend “In Flight,” a special collaboration by Burnish Brewing Company and Bird Nickel Brewing. In Qlarant tasting pavilion, local wine, cheese, beer and other delights will be available to sample and purchase. Throughout the weekend, join 4 Dogs Brewing at the Eastern Shore Land Conservancy for a fun, lively patio party including a free Goose Music Conservation Kickoff Friday night.

Sportsman’s Pavilion - Outdoor enthusiasts and sporting

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

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

Art Pavilions - Throughout

This extraordinary 10.6+- acre property on the Choptank River and Harris Creek has been fully renovated, offering 1,500+- feet of waterfrontage, a private 172’ L-shaped pier with boat lift, and sweeping views from nearly every room. The home’s interiors balance craftsmanship with modern convenience. The first-floor kitchen features Kraft Maid cabinetry, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances, while the second floor adds a Sanibel cabinetry wet bar with granite surfaces and a wine cooler. Details include handcrafted oak beams and ceiling on the main level, custom poplar beams upstairs, and brick fireplaces with artisan oak mantels in both the great room and the primary suite. Outdoor living takes center stage. A stone and block outdoor kitchen with stainless appliances, custom steel canopy, and gazebo with electric fan creates a striking space by the water, while brick and flagstone sidewalks, paver patios, and extensive hardscaping extend the living areas outside. The shoreline is protected with rip-rap, complemented by an irrigation system and manicured landscaping. Practical upgrades ensure peace of mind, including a 60’ x 40’ pole barn with 12’ ceilings provides room for boats, vehicles, and equipment. This property is as functional as it is beautiful. It’s a rare retreat where timeless Eastern Shore character meets thoughtful modern upgrades.

BENSON & MANGOLD REAL ESTATE

Set on 5.44 acres along the serene waters of Trippe Creek, this extraordinary estate— custom designed by award-winning Hammond Wilson Architects and masterfully built by Pyramid Builders of Annapolis—blends impeccable craftsmanship with timeless design and enduring architectural integrity. Sunset views, deep-water access, and seamless indoor–outdoor living set the stage for a lifestyle unlike any other. Inside, a graceful, curved staircase rises to a landing overlooking the grand two-story living room, anchored by a soaring stone fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows that frame breathtaking water views. The main-level primary suite is a private retreat, showcasing stunning water views and every comfort imaginable. The spa-inspired bath features heated stone floors, a central glass-enclosed shower, and a jacuzzi soaking tub perfectly positioned to capture the view. The heart of the home is its bright and spacious gourmet kitchen, outfitted with a Viking range, Sub-Zero refrigerator, custom cabinetry, and a large central island for entertaining. Just beyond, a three-season screened porch that opens to a stone patio designed for grilling and seamless al fresco entertaining. Outdoors, a private pier offers 8’ MLW depth with full utilities, a boat lift and jet ski lifts and heated waterfront pool. This is waterfront living at its highest level—luxury, comfort, and unforgettable sunsets on Trippe Creek.

EASTON | $8,995,000 | 6068WestlandRoad.com

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

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

Waterfowl Festival ticket. Ample accessible parking, ticket booths and bus stops will be located at Easton High School, Easton Elementary School and Easton Middle School. Transportation and parking are available free with the support of Londonderry on the Tred Avon, The Arc Central Chesapeake Region, Benson and Mangold and the Talbot County Public School System. Four bus routes this year will get you where you need to go, fast! Questions? Please contact us at the Waterfowl Festival office, Monday-Friday, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Volunteers are needed for all venues and will earn a free ticket good for all three days of the festival! For tickets please visit: waterfowlfestival.org/festival-tickets/

About the Waterfowl Festival

Parking and Transportation - Enjoy free parking and bus transportation with a festival

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 environments. 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. We gratefully acknowledge the support of our 2024 Legacy Conservation Partners - PNC Bank, Guyette and Deeter, Ducks Unlimited and the Maryland State Arts Council.

For more information about the Waterfowl Festival, including ticket sales and a full schedule of events, please visit www.waterfowlfestival.org.

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Giving Thanks for Travel Bonna L.

Nelson

Exploration is really the essence of the human spirit.

~ Frank Borman, Astronaut

Once the travel bug bites there is no known antidote, and I know that I shall be happily infected until the end of my life.

~ Michael Palin, Actor, Monty Python

This year when we share what we are thankful for at the family Thanksgiving dinner, I plan to include “travel” on my long list. Of course, like everyone else, I will include family, friends, good health, freedom and the feast before us. And, no, I won’t expand on “Why travel?”

while everyone is anxiously waiting for the carving of the turkey and the slicing of the pumpkin pie.

Why be thankful for travel? Why travel? Why journey? Why move from one place to another? Why eat, sleep and breathe? To me they equate to travel. Like eating, sleeping

Giving Thanks

and breathing, travel is life. Travel is nourishment. Travel soothes the soul and spirit. Travel inspires and educates.

Travel is seeing the world. Travel is exploring our planet, our countries, geography, history, people, societies and culture. Travel is adventure.

Travel is about seeing new places, structures, flora and fauna. Travel is enjoying food, scents, arts, crafts, languages and sights on a journey. Travel is discovering more about ancient civilizations. Exploring our world and being kind to each other are the reasons we are here, our purpose in life.

I am inspired by these quotes about travel from notable people past and present and from unknown sources:

Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world. – Gustave Flaubert

Adventure is worthwhile. – Aristotle

500 Dover Road Easton MD

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SHARP’S IS. LIGHT: 46 minutes before Oxford

TILGHMAN: Dogwood Harbor same as Oxford

EASTON POINT: 5 minutes after Oxford

CAMBRIDGE: 10 minutes after Oxford

CLAIBORNE: 25 minutes after Oxford

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

WYE LANDING: 1 hr. after Oxford

ANNAPOLIS: 1 hr., 29 min. after Oxford

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

CENTREVILLE LANDING: 2 hrs. after Oxford

CHESTERTOWN: 3 hrs., 44 min. after Oxford

3 month tides at www.tidewatertimes.com 12:10 12:01 12:49 1:36 2:24 3:14 4:05 4:59 5:56 6:57 8:00 9:07 10:15 11:2212:25 1:05 1:43 2:21 3:00 3:41 4:23 5:06 5:50 6:36 7:27 8:22 9:21 10:22 11:22

Giving Thanks

Travel teaches tolerance. – Benjamin Disraeli

Who lives sees much. Who travels sees more. – Arab Proverb

One must travel to learn. – Mark Twain And, also by Mark Twain: Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.

Nothing develops intelligence like travel. – Emile Zola

Why be thankful for travel? Travel takes us to see family and friends. Travel allows us to explore our neighborhood, our community, our town, our state and our 49 other states. Travel takes us to the ocean and mountains. Travel takes us to the bays and rivers. Travel takes us to cities, towns and villages. Travel

takes us to art galleries, museums, concerts, sporting events, movies and restaurants.

Travel satisfies the human passion for discovery and knowledge. Travel allows us to see the world’s most magical wonders, nature’s amazing grandeur. Travel allows us to explore national, state, and local parks; wilderness and wildlife; and natural preserves and reserves.

We are thankful to travel with family, friends, neighbors and business colleagues. We are thankful to travel with colleges, cruise lines and local, national and international tour groups and companies.

We are thankful for the various modes of transportation which we have used to travel by land, sea and air. We are thankful to travel by air -

Elegant Custom Homes for Sale in Easton, Maryland

Sandy Lane features ten beautifully designed, totally custom stick-bult homes, offering a very rare, luxurious, and comfortable lifestyle in downtown Easton. Located on a private cul-de-sac with convenient sidewalks and lighting, each of the new one and two-story residences boast elegant finishes, garages, and three bedrooms including stunning primary suites.

Enjoy a carefree lifestyle just a short walk from Easton’s Rails-to-Trails and vibrant downtown, home to some of the Eastern Shore’s finest dining, shopping, and entertainment. The charming waterfront towns of St. Michaels and Oxford are just minutes away. Whether you’re a commuter seeking convenience, a retiree craving tranquility, or a family looking for a welcoming community, Sandy Lane is designed for you. Enjoy convenient access to Route 50, schools, medical services, parks, and amenities; Washington D.C., Baltimore, and BWI are just over an hour’s drive. For nature lovers nearby preserves, hiking and biking trails, and Talbot County’s many stunning waterways off the Chesapeake Bay offer endless outdoor opportunities.

With only five of the ten home sites still available, now is the time to secure your place in this special community!

Elegant Custom Homes for Sale in Easton, Maryland

MOVE IN READY ON SANDY LANE

e Aidan at 14 Sandy Lane

$459,000

Looking for a full or part-time Easton landing spot? is beautiful one-story Aidan model on lot 3 at Sandy Lane is ready to go!

Sparkling new high-quality construction with a primary suite and two additional bedrooms, living and dining room open to a beautiful kitchen with custom cabinetry and natural quartz counter-tops, premium ooring, garage and rear patio.

Encapsulated crawl space, concrete driveway, fully sodded and landscaped yard.

Call for a tour or more information!

CONTACT JANET

Please contact me for more information on Sandy Lane and the available lots.

Lot 5 $699,000

Under construction the two story “Liam”, a new Sandy Lane design with a 1st oor primary suite, kitchen, dining area, living room, laundry and garage plus a 2nd oor with 2 bedrooms, full bath and 320+ sq. . of un nished bonus space. Rear patio, front porch and concrete drive.

Lot 9 $659,000

To be built the largest of the one-story “Ryan” models featuring a primary suite and two additional bedrooms, open design with kitchen, living and dining areas plus laundry and garage. Large front porch, rear patio, concrete drive. is is a premium lot that backs to landscaped open area and woods.

Janet Larson, Associate Broker Benson and Mangold | 211 Talbot St. N., St. Michaels, MD 21663 O: 410-745-0415 C: 410-310-1797 | jlarson@bensonandmangold.com BENSONANDMANGOLD.COM

Giving Thanks

plane, helicopter, seaplane, puddle hopper, train, cruise ship, sailing vessel, motorboat, kayak, canoe, gondola, pontoon boat, paddle boat, rowboat, dinghy, car, van, jeep, bus, motorcycle, golf cart, cable car, ski lift, funicular, horsedrawn carriage, mule-pulled wagon, bicycle and on foot. Excitingly, we are thankful to travel by horseback, donkey, camelback and elephant!

We are ever so thankful to journey to all seven continents on the planet: Africa, Asia, Antarctica, Australia, Europe, North America and South America. We are especially thankful to journey to all 50 of the United States of America. We are thankful to journey to both the Atlantic and Pacific coastal areas of our neighbors, Mexico and Canada.

We appreciate our journeys to all the countries of Central America, including Belize, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Panama, except for El Salvador. We are thankful for journeys to several countries in South America including Columbia, Argentina, Uruguay and Peru.

We are grateful to journey to several of the 51 countries of Europe, including France, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Malta, Monaco, Netherlands, Turkey, United Kingdom and Vatican City. We are especially blessed to journey to Israel and Palestine in the Middle East as well as other fantastic areas of the world, including China, India, South Africa, New Zealand, Tasmania, Australia and Antarctica. Who doesn’t love to travel to some of the world’s best beaches? For breathtaking beaches, turquoise

Giving Thanks

seas, rest, and relaxation, tropical vibes, food, people and music, we are delighted to visit islands of the Caribbean including Anguilla, Antigua, Aruba, the islands of the Bahamas (including Abacos, Am -

bergris Cay, Exuma, Grand Bahama and Paradise), Barbados, British Virgin Islands (including Anegada, Jost Van Dyke, Peter, Tortola and Virgin Gorda), Cayman Islands, Curacao, Jamaica, Puerto Rico, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Maarten, St. Martin, Turks and Caicos and the U.S. Virgin Islands (including St. Croix, St. John and St. Thomas).

What of the world’s natural wonders? Once we have seen the colossal Grand Canyon formations; Yellowstone geysers; Badlands geological formations; Alaska, Canada and Antarctica mountains, glaciers and waterfalls; New Zealand fjords; the Atlantic, Pacific, Indian and Southern Oceans and coastlines; active

Giving Thanks

volcanoes in Hawaii; the roar of the Niagara Falls; and the beauty of a simple farm field, lake or pond, we are forever changed by the experience.

Occupying our global lands, most long before we were, are astounding creations that we have observed, including apes, bears, birds, bison, Cape buffalo, butterflies, cats, dogs, dolphins, eagles, elephants, elk, farm animals, fish, flamingoes, giraffes, gorillas, hippopotamus, iguanas, leopards, llamas, lions, monkeys, ostriches, penguins, rhinoceros, seals, snakes, tigers, turtles, walruses and whales. And there are millions more species in the world who share our space and who we respect and care for.

We experience a sense of peace and calm when entering sacred spaces around the world, such as in Jerusalem, a center for the major world religions. We leave prayers in the Wailing Wall, the most sacred site in Judaism. We take off our

shoes and cover our heads to pray in the Al-Aqsa Mosque, the third holiest site in Islam. We bow our heads and contemplate in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, built on the site traditionally known for Jesus’ crucifixion and burial. In the nearby city of Bethlehem in West Bank, Palestine, we celebrate the birth of Jesus in the Church of the Nativity.

In India, we shared the richness and color of the Buddhist, Sikh and Hindu temples and shrines, washing our feet before entering, admiring the art, sculpture and altars inside. In Vatican City’s St. Peter’s Basilica, we took a spiritual journey through the various rooms filled with sculptures, altars, mosaics, art, furnishings and soaring decorated domes. We bow our heads in prayer in

Giving Thanks

magnificent cathedrals, Notre Dame and Mont Saint-Michel (Abbey) in France, Westminster, Canterbury, and Salisbury in the United Kingdom, and spiritual homes large and small around the world.

Other sacred sites that induce our wonder and awe, though not necessarily religious in nature, include the historic sanctuary high in the mountains of Peru, Machu Picchu. In China, the Great Wall, the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace and the Terracotta Warriors are timeless wonders, evoking contemplation.

Other noteworthy spaces we explore include the Taj Mahal, in India; Tikal, the Mayan city in Guatemala; Chichen Itza and Tulum in Mexico;

Wupatki Pueblo in Arizona; ancient ruins of churches, abbeys, monasteries, castles, and forts in Ireland; Stonehenge in the United Kingdom; the Parthenon and Acropolis in Athens, and Greeks islands including Santorini; the Colosseum and Pantheon in Rome; the ancient Roman, volcanic ash-covered city of Pompeii in Italy; and the ancient city of Troy and Roman city remains of Ephesus, both in Turkey.

We are in awe of these magnificent spaces. We imagine the creativity, hard labor and unity required to produce these unique structures. We are blessed to study, treasure and experience them.

Oh, the richness of the world, the infinite wonders. And we connect with and learn from the people in the

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Giving Thanks

countries we visit. In China we were warmly welcomed in the parks where people played chess, performed yoga and tai chi and insisted on taking photos with us. We enjoyed a meal in a private home, gracious discourse ensued. At a tea plantation we learned how to pick the best leaves and how they are dried and made into tea, the performance of an ancient tea ceremony. Our hosts at a silk making facility showed us silkworms at work and the lovely, fi nished products of scarves and garments.

In Jamaica, we took books and supplies to a school near our resort and shared stories and laughs with students and teachers. In Australia,

local friends of our travel companions shared meals and barbecues and took us touring. On a ranch near Buenos Aires, Argentina, we dined with guachos who raised and grilled the meat for the meal and danced the tango with us. In Italy, locals in Rome and Treviso shared their favorite pasta dishes and wines. We only had positive experiences of friendship, cultural exchanges and learning in every country we visited.

We are thankful to follow our bliss to the end of days with endless adventures and breathtaking vistas on land and sea. We are grateful for the places we have been to and the people we have befriended. Our journeys have changed us, helped us to better understand ourselves and

Giving Thanks

others, given us a broader perspective on this one wonderous life we are living, helped us to better equip ourselves for the future. We hope to travel to bond with the world for as long as we are able.

More of my favorite travel quotes:

And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started. And know the place for the first time.

T. S. Eliot

Home is where the heart is, but I’m thankful for the chance to discover new places.

Unknown

Only one who wanders finds new paths.

Norwegian proverb

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Perhaps travel cannot prevent

bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may become friends.

Maya Angelou

Travel to the magical corners of the world, visit a place you have never been, even if it’s the next town over. See yourself, other people and the world in a different light, bond with people different from yourself. Experience beyond what experiences you have at home. Allow your senses to marvel at new tastes, scents, visions, feelings, sounds, vibrations.

No, I won’t share why I am thankful to travel with our Thanksgiving dinner feasters, it would take too long, but I am sharing my thoughts with you. Now on to the turkey and pumpkin pie for which I am also very thankful!

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

The Calm in a Storm WWII Army Veteran Tom Finch

by Tracey F. Johns

My earliest memory of Tom Finch, my father, comes to me nearly 60 years later.

I am a baby in a crib in my parents’ room, crying. The glow from the bathroom spills down the hall, and Daddy, then 45 years old, steps in to comfort me. Soon, the house quiets for my mother and teenage sisters, Cathie, Gail, and Sharon.

To understand Tom Finch, start there. He brought calm into noisy rooms. He did it when the baby wailed, when the day spun out, and when our mother’s mental health became unpredictable. That steadiness shaped all four of us, and it carries forward into the generations who now hold his legacy.

Like many of his generation, Dad rarely spoke about the war. Once, in a hospital bed late in life, his mind oxygen-starved, he hallucinated he was in a prisoner of war camp. That was as close as he came to bringing the war fully home.

My sister Sharon says he loved the war. I remember that he hated it. Both can be true.

He loved the camaraderie and bonds forged in fleeting moments of ceasefire. But his work as an am-

bulance driver and orderly—roles much like today’s nurses—was grueling and bloody.

One family story recounts that he and his brother, Bill, emerged from separate foxholes on Christmas Eve and reunited. Dad always told that story with joy, as if it had carried him a long way.

Tom Finch with his brother.

The Golf Course as Sanctuary

Evening after evening, he walked public fairways. We weren’t wealthy, but grass, air, and the clean strike of a ball steadied him.

After my parents divorced when I was around eight, I often caddied for him. The bag was bigger than me, and he laughed with his buddies as we walked. He pointed me in the right direction and told me about his eagles, as if they were Super Bowl wins.

Later, when his eyesight faded, he asked strangers to line him up on the fairway, then striped the ball anyway.

Golf wasn’t just a game for him. It was ritual and release. He absorbed what he could not say into

Tom Finch with his four daughters.

Calm in the Storm

the rhythm of the game. Today, we might call it mental health practice: walking, moving, being outside, connecting with others, and finding a ritual that steadies you.

His funeral service was held at the 18th hole of the Rolling Green Golf Club in Sarasota, where he retired in his 50s. A full military salute closed the circle of his 81 years.

Medals and Memories

Tom Finch never bragged, but his record spoke for itself. He served with the Big Red One in North Africa, Italy and France, earning a Bronze Star for rescuing a man from a burning tank.

For years, we thought his medals were gone. Family lore says Uncle Bill, who struggled with gambling, traded them for comic books. Either way, they vanished. As a re -

Walking Sharon down the aisle.

searcher and writer, I tracked down Daddy’s service number, ordered replacements and held them in my hands.

Seeing his name engraved on the Bronze Star made me burst into tears. Today, they rest in a shadow box with his photo, ready to give to my veteran nephew, Jarrod.

A Daughter Remembers

My sister Sharon recalls Daddy’s steadiness.

“He wasn’t drafted. He signed up,” she says. “On Oct. 1, 1940, Daddy entered the Army at 5-foot10 and 135 pounds, an ambulance driver and medic who carried more than his size suggested.”

His war moved like a map: Algeria, French Morocco, Tunisia, Sici-

Calm in the Storm

ly, Normandy, Northern France the Rhineland. He reached Normandy three days after D-Day.

I remember him saying some soldiers drowned because their gear flipped them over and they couldn’t swim. His job as a medic meant blunt, human choices.

“He talked about giving morphine to the ones he knew wouldn’t make it,” Sharon says. “That was about as deep as he went.”

Although he never dwelled on the war, he kept a rifle by the bed. No one touched it.

To him, becoming an officer meant taking the fun out of the war, so he and a buddy would get in trouble and be sent to the brink to avoid being promoted.

“He didn’t want the responsibility,” Sharon says. “He liked being a private with his buddies.”

At home, he was easygoing, almost courtly. He once bought a drum set for Sharon’s 3-year-old son because it seemed fun. He’d crack eggs on my head and howl with laughter.

He shaved with a neat ritual, leaving a smear of lather on the side of the sink for small hands to play with. His golf scorecard measured his mood.

“If he shot over par, you gave him space. If he made an eagle, he floated the rest of the day,” Sharon says.

Although his response to “I love you” was often just “you, too, hon,” his steadiness said everything.

When I was a young child, Daddy

Walking Tracey down the aisle.

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Calm in the Storm

and I went to the Kay-Cee Drugstore for breakfast. He drank cup after cup of coffee at the counter, chatting with the regulars each Sunday. Miss Pauline let me, barely tall enough to see over the counter, help with simple tasks.

Those mornings taught me as much about him as the golf course did. He was steady, sociable and grounded in rituals that gave him connection and ease.

The Quiet Center

Linda Scrofano, his niece, remembers him as the calm in the middle of the Finch brothers and her mother, Aunt Lil.

“When the uncles got together to play cards, Bill and Bob could go at it. Uncle Tom was more of the leveler,” she says.

Family stories placed him in the most harrowing places of World War II, but back home, he found dignity. She also recalls his grit. Once, he fell three stories while fi xing a TV antenna, landed on a

Calm in the Storm

Studebaker and spent weeks in a coma. Doctors said he would never walk. He did.

“That grit fit the stories I heard about him in the war,” Scrofano says. “Uncle Tom wasn’t loud about anything, including the war. He worked, laughed, and stayed steady.”

Carrying the Weight Forward

War runs down family lines like eye color. My nephew, Jarrod Thomas Lynch—Daddy’s grandson—wore a uniform in Afghanistan. He learned the same silence.

“What happens in Afghanistan stays in Afghanistan,” he says. “I’m sure what happened in World War II stayed in World War II for Pop.”

Like his grandfather, Jarrod compartmentalized, came home and slipped back into family life. “All you really want to do is go home to your family,” he says.

But the cost of service is real.

“Sometimes you’re like, wow, that was the happiest person I ever served with, and now they’re not here anymore.”

His advice is urgent: “Even though you feel your battle buddy is 100 percent squared away, always check up on them. Because you’ll never get them back once they’re gone.”

Lynch says the bonds last even when life pulls people apart.

“We were together all the time while we were serving,” he says. “Now it’s a different mindset, a different life. You still care. You still have that bond. But it’s hard not knowing their struggle because you’re not with them 24/7 anymore.”

The

Steady Hand

Tom Finch brought a quiet care

home. He carried malaria, scars and memories he rarely shared.

But he also carried everyday grace—movie nights, fun on the driving range, neat shirts draped on a butler chair, homemade rice pudding and the chuckling laugh of a man who swore on the golf course but tiptoed through life.

He left behind more than medals or stories. He left a model of steadiness. Sharon calls it backbone. Linda calls it grit. Jarrod calls it a reminder to check in on each other. I call it grace.

The war ended. The weight stayed. What Tom Finch passed down was a way to carry it—quietly, faithfully and together.

Veterans Crisis Line

Veterans who are in crisis or having thoughts of suicide, or those who know a Veteran in crisis, can call the Veteran and Military Crisis Line for confidential support, 24 hours a day, at 800-273-8255, and press 1; send a text message to 838255; or chat online at the Veterans Crisis Line.

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.

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Caroline County – A Perspective

Caroline County is the very definition of a rural community. For more than 300 years, the county’s economy has been based on “market” agriculture.

Caroline County was created in 1773 from Dorchester and Queen Anne’s counties. The county was named for Lady Caroline Eden, the wife of Maryland’s last colonial governor, Robert Eden (1741-1784).

Denton, the county seat, was situated on a point between two ferry boat landings. Much of the business district in Denton was wiped out by the fire of 1863.

Following the Civil War, Denton’s location about fifty miles up the Choptank River from the Chesapeake Bay enabled it to become an important shipping point for agricultural products. Denton became a regular port-ofcall for Baltimore-based steamer lines in the latter half of the 19th century.

Preston was the site of three Underground Railroad stations during the 1840s and 1850s. One of those stations was operated by Harriet Tubman’s parents, Benjamin and Harriet Ross. When Tubman’s parents were exposed by a traitor, she smuggled them to safety in Wilmington, Delaware.

Linchester Mill, just east of Preston, can be traced back to 1681, and possibly as early as 1670. The mill is the last of 26 water-powered mills to operate in Caroline County and is currently being restored. The long-term goals include rebuilding the millpond, rehabilitating the mill equipment, restoring the miller’s dwelling, and opening the historic mill on a scheduled basis.

Federalsburg is located on Marshyhope Creek in the southern-most part of Caroline County. Agriculture is still a major portion of the industry in the area; however, Federalsburg is rapidly being discovered and there is a noticeable influx of people, expansion and development. Ridgely has found a niche as the “Strawberry Capital of the World.” The present streetscape, lined with stately Victorian homes, reflects the transient prosperity during the countywide canning boom (1895-1919). Hanover Foods, formerly an enterprise of Saulsbury Bros. Inc., for more than 100 years, is the last of more than 250 food processors that once operated in the Caroline County region.

Points of interest in Caroline County include the Museum of Rural Life in Denton, Adkins Arboretum near Ridgely, and the Mason-Dixon Crown Stone in Marydel. To contact the Caroline County Office of Tourism, call 410-479-0655 or visit their website at www.tourcaroline.com .

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/.

TIDEWATER GARDENING

by K. Marc Teffeau, Ph.D.

November Gardening Notes

November is the time to start putting the landscape and garden to bed. Colder weather has arrived, but November often brings mild weather, with a warm spell typically occurring near Thanksgiving. Still, keep your gardening tools close at hand.

We usually have a couple of hard

frosts in the first part of November that take out the tender flowering annuals. They are done for, so remove them from the flower beds and dispose of them in the trash. Cool-season annuals, such as pansies, violas, flowering cabbage and kale that you may have planted for fall color can withstand some

Tidewater Gardening

freezing temperatures and still maintain their color. The Chrysanthemums that you planted need the spent flower stems and branches to be trimmed back to 3 inches. In the perennial garden, check the beds after a period of rainfall. Look for standing water that collects on the surface. During winter, this standing water will freeze, potentially damaging the plants. Dig shallow trenches to help drain the excess water away. If you have water standing in your bed, note it and be prepared to raise the bed next spring. Planting of perennials can still occur through November, before the ground freezes. Remem- ber that many perennials can be planted or divided in the fall and replanted. However, transplanting should be done early in the month to give the plants time to establish a strong root system.

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Some plants and trees provide color and interest in November. They include camellia, nandina, pyracantha, red twig dogwood, birches, coral bark maple, and Harry Lauder’s walking stick.

Tidewater Gardening

Since November is still an excellent time to plant trees and shrubs in the landscape, consider adding one of these plants to add color and interest to your yard.

September and October are the best months to plant spring-flowering bulbs. But if you haven’t put all of them in the ground, there is still time to plant. The bulbs must be planted while the soil is still warm to promote healthy root growth. The bulb must produce a sound and extensive root system to supply its needs next spring. An extensive root system is crucial for absorbing water and nutrients necessary for the production of flowers and leaves.

If you still intend to plant bulbs, it will be necessary to mulch the soil heavily to prevent soil heaving and thawing. Applying three to four inches of leaves, pine needles, straw or compost over the planting of bulbs after the second or third hard frost will insulate the soil from the cold.

After a killing frost, long vigorous shoots of roses may be cut back to 18 to 20 inches so they are not whipped by the winter winds, which may loosen the roots and make the plant more susceptible to winter injury. Mound the canes with 8 inches of soil for winter protection; remove before growth begins in spring. Be sure also to clean up any leaf debris around the rose plants to reduce black spot disease problems next year.

A common mistake homeowners make is pruning spring-flowering plants in fall. Do not prune azaleas, rhododendrons and other spring-flowering shrubs like forsythia and spirea now because they have already set their flower buds for next year’s blooms. If you feel these shrubs do need to be pruned, however, you can prune them now, but you will sacrifice next spring’s flowers.

It is commonly believed that plants become dormant during winter. Various plants have foliage that remains visible during winter. The following perennials

Tidewater Gardening

are well suited for shade gardens and demonstrate resilience within our climate zone. Bugleweed ( Ajuga reptans) typically grows to a height of 4 to 8 inches. It will form a dense groundcover throughout the year, featuring white, blue, or

violet flowers in spring. Bugleweed is such a vigorous grower that some people consider it invasive. This groundcover prefers well-drained soil.

Lenten Rose (Helleborus orientalis) has leathery evergreen foliage throughout the year. It reaches a height of 1-1/2 to 2 feet and produces pale green, white, pink or maroon flowers in early spring. It is one of the groundcovers that prefers a neutral (pH 7) to alkaline soil. Other groundcovers can be dug and transplanted, but you shouldn’t do this with Lenten Rose. Once it is established, leave it there.

Yellow Archangel (Lamiastrum galeobdolon ‘Variagatum’ ) is an-

other spreading groundcover that grows to a height of 1 to 2 feet. It features silver-patterned evergreen foliage and produces yellow flowers in summer. Yellow Archangel thrives in well-drained, moist

soil, but also tolerates dry shade and root competition.

Root crops like beets, carrots and turnips may be stored in the garden soil through most of winter. Place several inches of soil over the crops, then apply a layer of mulch on top to help preserve them for a longer period. Suppose your garden is not subject to soil erosion. In that case, you can still turn over the

Tidewater Gardening

soil and let it lie fallow to help kill any overwintering adult insects. If you prefer a “no till” garden approach and haven’t sown a green cover, apply a compost mulch to a depth of 3 inches. You can turn it under next spring to add additional organic matter to the soil.

The alternating freezing and thawing, as well as wetting and drying, of the soil during winter will help improve the soil structure. Now is also a good time to incorporate organic matter, such as compost, into the garden soil. Spread an inch or two layer of soil over the garden and till it in.

An alternative would be to till

the soil and then sheet compost it. Next spring, all you will have to do is rake away the compost and till the areas where you plan to plant. The remaining compost will serve as a mulch to control the weeds between the rows. By adding organic matter to the soil, you will improve the soil structure, resulting in better aeration, water percolation,

Tidewater Gardening

nutrient retention, and enhanced plant growth.

The other element that you can add to the garden soil now is lime. Spread the recommended amount of lime from your soil test in November and till it into the soil. This will give the lime a few additional months to react with the soil and adjust the pH before your spring crop goes in. Now is not the time to fertilize the garden. Winter rains and snow will leach out most of the fertilizer nutrients in the soil, especially on sandier soils.

Water broad- and narrow-leafed evergreens and conifers thoroughly before the soil freezes. These plants continue to transpire water through their leaves and needles during the winter months. Without an adequate supply of soil water below the frost line, they will dry out. If the soil is not frozen in midwinter, water again at that time. This is especially important if we have a relatively dry winter. When watering, check to ensure that you

are not overwatering. Overwatering can cause as serious a problem as not watering at all. If your soil is well-drained, there should be no problem. But if your soil is heavy clay, like lots of soil in Talbot County and other areas on the Shore, make certain that water is not standing around the plants after you have finished watering.

If you have fruit trees, November is the time to rake up leaves from around them to help control insect populations and remove diseasecausing organisms that overwinter on leaf debris. You will help reduce rodent populations by removing all remaining fruit from the tree or the ground. Avoid mulching close to fruit tree trunks, as it raises the risk of winter rodent damage. The little critters like to tunnel under the mulch up to the trunks and gnaw off the bark. By now, you should have moved

Tidewater Gardening all your houseplants back inside from their summer locations. Looking for indoor gardening activities in November? The first of the month is the time to pot up amaryllis bulbs for Christmas blooming. Most bulbs arrive at flowers six to eight weeks after they are planted. Ensure that you leave the top third of the bulb exposed and water only lightly until you see signs of growth. Avoid keeping the potting medium excessively wet as the plant grows, as this can lead to bulb rot. Let it dry out almost completely before watering again.

Your Thanksgiving cactus should now be starting to form blooms, with the Christmas cactus blooming not far behind. These “holiday” cacti are really not true cacti but are members of a loosely defined group of plants that include succulents and cacti. Other activities for November include potting and forcing tulip bulbs for winter bloom, pruning out the old canes from raspberry bushes and starting paperwhites in late November for Christmas flowering. 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/.

Willie Nelson - Rolling On by A.M. Foley

On April 20, 2012, singer/songwriter Willie Nelson attended dedication of a statue to himself. That must have been an out-of-body experience, viewing himself and guitar Trigger in a precise, eight-foot likeness. In the larger-than-life version, under his sleeveless left arm, he cradles his iconic guitar, showing above its bridge the hole worn through by decades of strumming. In prior decades, he and the music he made had suffered rejection and tribulations from entities ranging from Nashville’s Country

Music Establishment to the U.S. Government. In Austin, Texas, where his statue stands, people had long embraced Willie. Nevertheless, the idea of anyplace ever erecting a statue to him would once have been bizarre—unthinkable.

To conclude that spring day, the City of Austin renamed a section of Second Street as Willie Nelson Boulevard, then he wrapped things up by singing the crowd two of his songs: his classic “On the Road Again,” and his then-latest, “Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die.”

Afterwards he told an interviewer, “Now I’ll be stoned for a thousand years.” As he neared his 87th birthday, Willie had become the country’s most prominent advocate for legalizing marijuana. (“Tax it, regulate it and legalize it.”)

Once a smoker of unfiltered cigarettes, five decades earlier he had tossed Chesterfields from a new pack and replaced them with illegal joints. Despite several subsequent arrests, he credits switching to pot with saving his life. Willie had begun smoking at the age of six. In a pinch, he smoked tree bark but preferred trading fresh eggs from his grandmother’s henhouse for Camels. At their Abbott, Texas, store, he remembers being attracted to Joe Camel’s image on R. J. Reynolds packaging. Later he came to blame painful deaths of his mother, father, and two step-parents on tobacco. “To my knowledge,” he said, “pot has never killed anybody…. Tobacco has

Willie and Snoop Dogg

probably killed more people than all wars put together.”

As for alcohol, Willie once claimed, “I know practically every bartender in the state [of Texas who] ever pulled a cap on a bottle of beer.” This despite the worry it caused his beloved grandmother, Mama Nelson, who raised him and sister Bobbie in orthodox Methodist tradition. Having family members suffering from alcoholism, Mama worried about young Willie touring honky-tonks for business and pleasure. In his book Me and Sister Bobbie , he said, “In my growing up days most of the men were drinkers…seemed to be what it meant to be a man.” Luckily, Willie had no need for the stimu-

Willie with his sister Bobbie

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/.

Rolling On

lants plaguing some artist friends. “I didn’t need speed,” the multitalented artist said. “I was already speeding.” But, unaccountably, under booze’s influence, he was not good-time-Willie. “I was one of those stupid drunks who liked to take on the biggest bruiser in the bar….I got dumb and violent.” He provoked and lost enough barroom brawls to take up boxing lessons and later martial arts.

Martha, his first of four wives, left after he came home and fell in bed drunk one time too many. Martha sewed him up in a sheet and beat him with a broom, then drove away with the kids and ev-

erybody’s clothes (including all of Willie’s). They’d married as teens, she a beautiful Cherokee, who tired of years waitressing while he chased a lagging career. He later reflected, “I got along great with the opposite sex until I started marrying them.” He had two more exes before settling down with Annie in 1991. Willie treasures a total of eight children, plus, “I’ll always love all my wives. There’s no such thing as a “former” wife.”

After decades paying his musical dues, good fortune finally smiled on middle-aged Willie—as a songwriter if not as a performer. The success of others performing his work enabled him to buy Ridgetop, a farm property outside

Willie Nelson with his 8 children.

of Nashville. There he set about reuniting with his father and other disparate family members. He also had acreage enough to shelter friends, in-laws, outlaws and assorted livestock. After a few years’ enjoyment, an electrical fire destroyed the main house. Called home from a party, as the family watched from the yard, Willie ran in and rescued Trigger and some newly adopted Colombian pot.

Then he joined his family, watching the fire company’s vain efforts to douse the spectacular blaze. With Ridgetop in ashes and his singing style spurned by the Country Establishment, he took the hint and went home to Texas. Outside San Antonio in Banderas, he acquired land, complete with an unkempt golf course and enough grounds to house his tribe. While playing his “mangy” golf course, he contemplated the Beatles’ idea for a “concept” album, Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band . The result for Willie was his first concept album, Yesterday’s Wine . After its release, he finally succeeded in persuading pianist sister Bobbie to join his band. He had her

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select gospel hymns learned from their grandparents to complete his second concept album.

Bobbie had settled in Austin

and helped persuade Willie it was a match for him and his music. After sojourns in the Colorado Rockies and Hollywood, he took their advice, purchasing what he called a “beat-up country club…with lots of land attached, including a rough and rocky golf course… perfect spot to build a recording studio.” He applied two rules at “Luck Ranch.” With cocaine gaining popularity, rule #1 was: “If you’re wired, you’re fired.” Number 2 notified resident, gun-toting hunters: “No killing nothing.” Seventy horses, rescued from slaughter, grazed among the wildlife to their hearts’ content, fed twice a day, sometimes by hand. (“No one can tell me that horses don’t have souls.”)

He’d been philosophical about Ridgetop’s loss, saying “Sometimes…material destruction can help you rethink your priorities.” But he must have felt betrayed in

1990 learning his supposedly eminent accountants had mishandled his taxes. The IRS was demanding $32 million in unpaid taxes, interest and penalties. Despite the success he’d achieved, he was forced to stash Trigger out of IRS reach while they confiscated his ranch, studio and other worldly goods. When they auctioned off the ironically named Luck Ranch, friends placed the winning bid, aiming to hold it until Willie could get back on his feet. For whatever reason, the IRS rejected friends’ money, voided the sale and re-auctioned the ranch. Willie was advised to declare bankruptcy but didn’t want to stiff other creditors. Eventually fan support enabled him

to dig his way out of the hole and prosper again, more popular than ever.

He’d found his niche in Austin, state capital and home of the University of Texas. Unlike Nashville’s obsession with “crossover” music, he found Austin a musical democracy. His gigs attracted his kind of crossovers, a heart-warming blend of cowboys and hippies enjoying good music together. A typical regular was undergraduate Paul Begala. Before old enough to patronize clubs, he’d taped Willie’s music off the radio. Decades later, after graduating UT, Begala and partner James Carville would consult for Bill Clinton’s campaigns. Still a fan in 2025, last February

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Begala told Texas Monthly ’s “One for Willie” podcast, if he had to pick one Nelson hit, he’d opt for the Dylan collaboration “Heartland.”

In his Poli-Sci classroom, Professor Begala calls Willie’s greatest attribute “interpersonal synchronicity”—empathy—President Clinton’s cliched “I feel your pain.” “Heartland” lyrics relate to a reallife tragedy: a desperate farmer’s suicide, self-inflicted in the loan

office of a bank. The struggle for survival between family farms and large corporations led Willie to Farm Aid. “Heartland”’s unrequited love involves a farmer and his country. As a land-losing farmer says in the lyrics, “My American dream fell apart at the seams.” That’s Willie’s gift of cutting to the heart of a complicated issue.

Empathy is at the heart of every major religion. Willie’s religious philosophy is no more orthodox than his music, and just as deeply embedded in who he is. Like his Cherokee mother, Myrle, who carried a tiny talisman of Buddha in her purse, Willie’s way of thinking

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is inclusive and inquisitive. When he once briefly held a day job, he spent hours in a library studying Eastern as well as Western thought. Maybe reincarnation explained his writing romantic poems, which startled his first-grade teacher? More Biblically, hadn’t he benefited tenfold from any good he ever did? When the IRS took his home, didn’t friends try to be their “brother’s keeper?”

Begala contrasts Willie with less durable country artists—those who hit big with a first album about love and truth, mama and whiskey. Then, by their third album, they’re singing about their hardships “being a millionaire, always on tour….”My Lear jet’s out of Perrier.’” Begala contrasts newcomers with Willie, who has recorded one hundred albums but hasn’t lost his ability to identify with others’ problems. Willie still serves the Farm Aid organization he helped found. Their ongoing, multi-faceted efforts offer practical advice and assistance to farmers the year around. At age ninety-two, Willie scheduled his 2025 tour to conclude at his fortieth Farm Aid concert.

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.

A Feast of Flavor: A Plant-Forward Twist on the Traditional Holiday Table

The holidays are a time to gather, to celebrate, and—most of all—to savor. While the traditional turkey may be the centerpiece on many tables, this year’s holiday feast takes a vibrant, plant-forward turn. Imagine a table filled with deep autumn color and rich, comforting flavors: golden roasted acorn squash halves, generously stuffed

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and ready to serve as a beautiful main dish, surrounded by a chorus of seasonal sides that are anything but ordinary.

From a crisp green bean skillet to a jewel-toned cranberry pear relish, every dish on this menu is crafted to please a crowd and spark conversation. There are fragrant soft sweet potato dinner rolls and creamy mashed potatoes brightened with kale. A flaky vegetable pot pie rounds out the savory fare, while a spiced pumpkin tart with oat crust offers a sweet finale.

Whether you’re hosting longtime vegetarians or just looking to bring

more balance to your holiday table, this plant-forward menu for eight delivers all the indulgence and tradition—without relying on meat to make it memorable.

Sweet Potato Dinner Rolls Makes

16 rolls

Just before baking, you can brush them with plant-based milk and sprinkle lightly with poppy seeds.

3-½ cups whole wheat flour, I prefer using organic

2 packages quick-rising yeast

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 cup fresh mashed sweet potatoes or (12-ounce can of sweet potatoes, smashed)

1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce

1/3 cup unsweetened favorite plantbased milk (such as a cashew or soy)

2 tablespoons evaporated cane sugar

In a large bowl sift together the flour, yeast and salt.

In a medium saucepan, heat the sweet potato, applesauce, milk and sugar until it’s warm, between 120° to 125°. Add sweet potato mixture to flour mixture and blend with a mixer or wooden spoon until well mixed.

Turn out the dough onto a lightly floured surface. Knead to make a soft dough that is smooth and elastic for 5 to 7 minutes. Cover and let rest 10 minutes.

Line a large baking sheet with

parchment paper. Divide dough into 16 portions. Roll each portion into a ball and place 1 inch apart on the prepared baking sheet if desired. Make a 4-inch-deep decorative cut across tops of rolls. Cover and let rise in a warm place until nearly double the size, about 45 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400° and bake 20 to 25 minutes or until golden. Cool slightly and serve warm.

Cranberry Pear Relish

Makes 3 cups

Make this relish a day ahead. It takes 10 minutes to make but needs four hours for the flavors to blend.

1 cup frozen cranberries, thawed

1 firm ripe pear, quartered

1 orange, cut into eight pieces

¼ cup cranberry juice or freshly squeezed orange juice

¼ cup dried cranberries

2 tablespoons pure maple syrup

2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger

In a food processor, combine the cranberries, pear, orange, juice and cranberries. Pulse until finely chopped.

Transfer fruit mixture to a medium bowl. Add maple syrup and ginger. Chill covered 4 to 24 hours before serving.

Vegetable Pot Pie

Makes 9 cups

This tasty pot pie makes a hearty addition to the holiday table.

3 cups shiitake mushrooms

1 cup sliced carrots

½ cup sliced celery

3 cups low-sodium vegetable broth

2 cups ½-inch pieces peeled butternut squash (can also use frozen)

1 cup chopped onion

1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme

1 bay leaf

1 15-ounce can chickpeas, drained

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Kitchen and rinsed

to taste 1 pizza dough, I prefer whole wheat

1 cup frozen peas

1 cup frozen corn

3 tablespoons of whole wheat flour, I prefer organic

2 tablespoons organic extra-virgin olive oil

Sea salt and freshly ground pepper

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. In your favorite cast-iron skillet add 2 tablespoons olive oil, mushrooms, carrots, celery, onion, squash, and cook 3 to 4 minutes. You can add 2 tablespoons water to prevent sticking. Add the broth, thyme and bay leaf. Bring to a boil, reduce heat. Simmer, covered, 5 minutes or until vegetables are nearly tender. Stir in chickpeas, peas and corn.

Whisk together flour and remaining ¼ cup water. Stir into vegetables and cook about 2 minutes, until thick and bubbly, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and discard bay leaf. Season filling with

salt and pepper. Spread into 2 ½- to 3-quart round or oval baking dish. On a lightly floured surface, roll pizza dough into a circle or oval slightly larger than the dish. Cut several slits into dough, place on filling and seal. Sprinkle with water. Bake 15 minutes or until crust is browned and filling is bubbly.

Green Beans

Makes 5 cups

Get a jump on meal prep. I like to make ahead and then store in the refrigerator up to three days and just reheat.

6 cups thinly sliced onions

4 tablespoons organic extra-virgin olive oil

2 teaspoons organic maple syrup

8 ounces cleaned and quartered shiitake mushrooms

1 pound green beans, trimmed ½ teaspoon chopped fresh oregano Sea salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

2 tablespoons sliced almonds, toasted

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In a large skillet, add 2 tablespoons olive oil, cook onions over medium heat for 5-10 minutes or until translucent. Stir in maple syrup the last minute of cooking. Remove from heat, place in a dish until ready to add back in.

Add 2 tablespoons olive oil and place mushrooms in large skillet over medium heat for 3 to 4 minutes. Stir green beans in and bring to a boil, then reduce heat. Simmer for 6 minutes or until beans are crispy. Stir in onions, season with salt and pepper. Place in a dish to reheat until you are ready. Place toasted almonds in a dish for later

use. Sprinkle on green beans right before serving.

Mashed Potatoes with Kale

Make 6 cups

The flavors of this holiday-inspired red and green side dish are mild enough to go with almost anything.

2 ½ pounds red potatoes, quartered 3 cups steamed and thinly sliced organic kale

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2 tablespoons organic extra-virgin olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

½-¾ cup unsweetened plant-based milk (almond, soy or cashew) or grass-fed whole milk

1 teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary

¼ cup grass-fed butter, or your favorite plant-based butter

Sea salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

In a 4- to 5-quart Dutch oven, combine potatoes and enough water to cover. Bring to boil, reduce heat. Simmer, covered, 20 to 25 minutes or until potatoes are fork tender.

Add olive oil to a large skillet, cook kale and garlic over medium heat 3 minutes or until kale is wilted, stirring occasionally and adding 2 tablespoons water.

Drain and mash the potatoes with either a fork or potato masher. Gradually stir in enough milk to make potatoes light and fluffy. Add butter, rosemary and kale mixture. Season with salt and pepper. You can put this in a dish and in the refrigerator up to three days and reheat when ready.

Stuffed Acorn Squash Makes 8 halves

For an extra colorful presentation, use tricolor quinoa to fill these brightly flavored squash halves.

4 acorn squash, halved lengthwise and seeded

1 cup chopped carrots

½ cup chopped celery

½ cup low-sodium vegetable broth

1 ½ cups sliced onions

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 ½ cups cooked quinoa (follow instructions on box or bag)

1 10-ounce container cherry tomatoes, halved

1 tablespoon lemon juice Sea salt and fresh ground black pepper, to taste

½ teaspoon chopped fresh rosemary

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line an extra-large baking sheet with parchment paper. Arrange squash, cut sides down, on the prepared baking sheet. Bake 40

to 45 minutes or until squash is nearly tender. Turn squash halves cut side up.

Meanwhile, in an extra-large skillet, cook olive oil, carrots, celery and onions on medium-high heat for 4 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in cooked quinoa, tomatoes, lemon juice and broth. Cook for 3 minutes or until liquid is absorbed, seasoning with salt and pepper.

Spoon quinoa mixture into squash halves. Bake 10 to 15 minutes or until squash is tender; sprinkle with fresh rosemary.

Pumpkin Tart with Oat Crust

Makes 1 tart

A touch of maple syrup in the tart gives your holiday dinner finale a sweet autumn touch.

1 ½ cups rolled oats

4 tablespoons flaxseed, ground (optional for more omega 3 & fiber)

3 tablespoons unsalted almond butter

4 tablespoons unsweetened plantbased milk (such as soy or almond)

1 15 oz can pumpkin

¾ cup unsweetened plant based milk (soy, almond or cashew)

1/3 cup chopped pitted whole dates

¼ cup pure organic maple syrup

2 tablespoons cornstarch

2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

Favorite vanilla ice cream or

Kitchen

whipped cream (regular or dairy free)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. For crust, combine oats, 3 tablespoons flaxseed and almond butter in food processor. Cover and pulse until mixed well. While processor is running, add 4 tablespoons milk until the dough starts to cling into a ball. Take dough out of the food processor. Press onto the bottom and up the sides of a 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom.

For filling, combine the remaining tablespoon flaxseed with a ¼ cup water in a bowl for five minutes. This is your alternative egg

in the recipe. Add pumpkin, milk, pitted dates, maple syrup, cornstarch, pumpkin pie spice, vanilla and salt to food processor. Blend until smooth. Make sure you scrape down the sides. Place filling into crust.

Bake 50 minutes or until filling is set. Cool on rack 30 minutes. Chill 2 to 8 hours. Remove sides of tart pan. Serve tart with ice cream or whipped cream.

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.

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Chasing Dreams, Even Still

by Michael Valliant

Fallingwater leaks. Frank Lloyd Wright’s iconic house, a place I’ve been captivated by for 30 years, which people travel from around the world to see, an architectural masterpiece, has leaked almost from the beginning. And it’s still amazing. It still leaves you in awe and wonder, echoing the landscape around it. Sometimes, chasing our dreams reveals the flaws, imperfections and things we couldn’t see when we started. But we should chase them, even still.

This is a story about dreams, both specific and ethereal. And about what happens in real time when they meet reality.

It was 30 years ago when I was sitting in Professor James Plumb’s art history class at Chesapeake College. He was flipping through a slide show when he got to Wright’s Fallingwater, built for the Kauffman family in southwestern Pennsylvania in the 1930s. It had been a camp in the woods they loved and would visit. They particularly loved

Chasing Dreams

a stream. So Wright built the house right on top of the stream. It runs underneath the house, and the falls empty down beneath it.

My jaw dropped, my awe-ometer spun around—it never occurred to me that you could do that. I became fascinated by Fallingwater and Wright and decided I needed to see this place for myself. It only took me 30 years to get there. It’s only four hours away.

It became a dream in the background, a warm place to visit and think about, but not one that got any traction. We’ll come back to that.

My wife Holly recently asked me, “When you were a kid, or a teenager, was there anyone that you looked up to and thought, I’d like my life to look like that?”

I had to sit with that for a bit. And there really wasn’t. I saw adults who were doctors, teachers, lawyers, boat builders, but I really didn’t want to do any of those things. My father is a great accoun-

tant, but I’ve never had the knack for or love of numbers. My mother went to art school; I struggle to draw stick figures.

My sister knew from an early age that she wanted to be a teacher. She went to college to become one and has been an amazing and loved teacher at Chapel District Elementary School since she and her husband moved back to the Eastern Shore after college and veterinary school for him. They both caught sight of their dreams early and followed them.

As a kid, teenager and through my 20s and 30s, I didn’t have a sense of what I wanted to do with my life. It left me in a lurch in my early 40s, wiping away the sand that covered my dreams to remember and recognize things I wasn’t paying attention to.

It started with books. Writers including Thomas Merton, Frederick Buechner, Barbara Brown Taylor, John O’Donohue. People who wrote about their lives of wonder, faith and God. They became wayfinders who pointed me in my own direction. Saying that, the following of that dream has walked itself very

Chasing Dreams

differently than in my mind.

As far as years go, 2025 has had a lot going on. We got married in June and all eyes pointed to the fall to be ordained as an Episcopal priest. That’s when the latent dream of seeing Fallingwater floated back up. Holly jumped in with my enthusiasm, and we found a cabin in the woods in a town about 11 miles away.

The windy, hilly backroad to get there is a rollercoaster if you are used to driving on the Shore. Pulling into the parking lot and walking to the welcome center, everything about the place suggests Nature with a capital “N.” It’s part of the landscape. Fallingwater is kept up and cared for by the Western Pennsylvania Land Conservancy. The number of people who travel to see it is astounding and at the same

time, it’s still an intimate experience.

Frank Lloyd Wright met Edgar Kaufman through Kaufman’s son, Edgar, Jr., who was a student of Wright’s. They talked about what the family loved about the land and Wright built a house that was to be part of the landscape.

This is from the Fallingwater website:

“Echoing a natural pattern established by its neighboring rock ledges, Wright positioned the house over the falls in a stacked grouping of cantilevered concrete “trays,” each anchored to a central stone chimney mass of locally quarried Pottsville sandstone. Although the house rises more than thirty feet above the falls, the strong horizontal lines and resulting low ceilings reinforce the safe, sheltering effect Wright sought to achieve. Seemingly bringing the natural environment into the house as well as enticing its inhabitants out, the square footage of outdoor terraces of Fallingwater is almost the same as that of its indoor rooms.”

Chasing Dreams

Wright made the hallways dark and with low ceilings to push people into the shared spaces. He made the shared spaces modest with larger

terraces, to encourage people to go outside. Walking around the house and the property, I was a kid on Christmas morning.

And Fallingwater leaks. It has from the start. Wright never made it back to the house after it was completed to see it. It was wildly over budget. It’s in constant repair, due to age and materials. Though designed by one of the most brilliant architects, it has its flaws. And it’s still breathtaking.

Waiting 30 years to visit somewhere could have built up unreasonable expectations. It didn’t. Life has humbled me so many times in that stretch of time, Fallingwater didn’t have to be perfect. I never put it on a pedestal; I just wanted to see it in person. I still love Wright’s work and hope to experience more of his houses.

Leaving Fallingwater, we stopped in the nearby town of Ohiopyle. It’s a town full of whitewater, rafts, trucks

pulling campers, families, dogs, laughter and good food. It’s got only a few hundred residents. We walked around the town, stopped in a café, crossed over the river on a footbridge and soaked our feet in the water. It was an incredible early fall day, full of dreams, expected and unexpected, different when they meet reality.

Time passing does something to dreams. They change, some fall away, new dreams emerge. I didn’t know as a kid that being a writer or a priest would become dreams or reality. The becoming of both feels like a story that’s been a lifetime in unfolding and the next parts of the dream and of life are cueing up.

There are always leaks. It’s worth chasing dreams, even still.

Michael Valliant is the Assistant for Adult Education and Newcomers Ministry at Christ Church Easton. He has worked for non-profit organizations throughout Talbot County, including the Oxford Community Center, Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum and Academy Art Museum.

Between Two Worlds: A Mother’s Farewell

by Dan Hoyt

It was Easter Sunday, March 27, 2005, and my mother was in hospice care and was dying. By the end of that day, I would witness something I have trouble explaining, and it changed my perspective on death and the afterlife forever. My mother entered hospice on Christmas Eve 2004 and was sent home to die peacefully around family. My bother Pat from Plano, TX, took a hiatus from his contractor work to help my dad while mom was home. During the three months at home,

her health slowly deteriorated, and by Easter morning we started seeing some major changes that alarmed us at first, but later we found were a normal part of dying and the last hours of someone’s life. In this story, I will do my best to explain what I experienced and share my increased faith in an afterlife and my belief there is more for us after we pass; I’m deeply convinced of this.

Diagnosis and Discovery

A few years prior, my mother

A

Mother's Farewell

was going in for a standard colonoscopy, but during the procedure the doctor noticed a blockage that wouldn’t allow the scope to pass. It was decided she needed an operation to further examine the blockage. During the exploratory surgery, they discovered she had ovarian cancer, and the cancer had grown around her colon, causing the blockage.

At the time we were living in Jacksonville, FL. We were told my mother had cancer when I received a phone call while shopping at the local Walmart. They say when you hear about or experience a traumatic event, you remember where

you were exactly at the time. We were in the health and beauty section when my dad called with the news. This was quite a traumatic experience for me and my family. Prior to this, my family had been very healthy, with no health-related issues for many years, so hearing about her cancer brought me to tears immediately. I remember my wife asking what was wrong, but it took me a few minutes to regain my composure, as I was choked up and couldn’t get the words out.

A few years passed after her chemotherapy treatments and her reaching remission, and we thought all was back to normal. Something deep down told me I should consider moving closer to

A Mother's Farewell

home. It had been over 10 years since we moved away, and we missed being close to my side of the family. I started looking for a job in July of 2004 and couldn’t find anything in the Quad Cities area, so I widened my scope and found a position that fit me perfectly in Dubuque, Iowa, a town 70 miles north of home. I interviewed, got the position and we moved there in late September 2004. In December when my mother started having issues holding down food, she went to the doctor and had tests done. Not being able to determine the cause, they decided another exploratory surgery was needed. During the operation, they discovered her cancer had come back and was spreading rapidly to other organs. The surgery was rough on her, and it took days for her to regain consciousness. During that time, she was in the ICU, and we weren’t sure if she would wake up again. The entire family stayed at the hospital during this time. My dad, all five of their children and most if not all the grandchildren stayed and held vigil, two at a time in her room. The rest of the family took over one of the ICU waiting rooms, sleeping in chairs, on the couch and on the floor while we waited to see if she would come out of her coma.

The Decision to Let Go

After the third day, she finally regained consciousness and was moved to a regular hospital room. We learned the doctor would be making his rounds in the early afternoon, so the family (our father, my three brothers, my sister and I) along with our significant others all waited for his arrival. When he delivered the news on her cancer and the complications it was causing, my mother made up her mind almost immediately. The doctor told us her cancer was causing issues with her kidneys (hyperkalemia), drains would need to be installed and extensive Chemo was needed to treat her spreading cancer. My mother asked the doctor what would happen if she refused the drains and the chemotherapy; we were shocked at her question. He explained that her potassium levels would increase, putting additional strain on her heart and one day her heart would just stop beating. We, the family, were ready for another fight, but our mother made up her mind and chose the latter, not receiving any treatments and slowly dying from this. She had a rough go with her first ovarian cancer treatments and didn’t want to go through it again. We were all mortified and wanted to understand her thinking. My dad stood silently. He seemed to understand, but I noticed a tear running down his face. At the time, we didn’t understand and were angry

A Mother's Farewell

at the doctor for giving her options, seeming to agree with her decision to not seek additional treatment. It wasn’t until days later that I started to understand our mother’s thinking. I wasn’t ready to lose my mother, let alone lose her in a matter of weeks or months at best, but understanding the pain and suffering she went through the first time, I guess it made sense.

Months had passed and our mother had slowly been deteriorating. She no longer could get out of bed, and that put more strain on my dad and brother taking care of her. She had daily visits from the hospice nurse, but most of the hard

caregiving was left to them. We are eternally thankful for the care they gave our mother in those final months. They earned a place in heaven for their selfless work.

Easter Sunday: Her Final Day

It was early Easter Sunday morning. My family drove down from Dubuque the night before and were spending the night. My dad came and got me right away. He called my two brothers and sister to the house because my mother woke up that morning wanting to see everyone as soon as possible. She was somewhat in a panic. It only took a few minutes, as everyone was within a few miles of the house. I remember standing

The grandchildren waiting outside ICU.

A Mother's Farewell

around her bed in the living room of their home as she wanted to speak to everyone. We got our sister-in-law Toni on the phone, and now everyone was there. She wanted to say her last goodbyes. It was odd to us because besides the look of panic on her face, she looked the same as she had for weeks. Toni asked if she should fly up that day and we figured that wouldn’t be necessary. But moments later, she fell asleep and didn’t regain consciousness. Her breathing started getting heavy, like she was gasping for breath at times, but this lasted for most of the day. The hospice nurse arrived, and she assured us

this was normal. We found out later this was called Cheyne-Stokes breathing, and it often occurs when a person is close to death. With that comes terminal secretions, which is commonly known as a “death rattle.” This occurs when mucus and saliva build up in the patient’s throat. We asked the hospice nurse if there was anything we could do, and she told us we could remove some of the mucus with a baby nasal aspirator. She showed us how to do it, and when the rattle in her breathing stopped, we felt we were making it easier and more comfortable for her.

Spiritual Experience

As it was getting late, my dad asked the family to go to the base-

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A Mother's Farewell

ment so our mom could have some quiet. Dad had a difficult day seeing mom’s condition change so much. Her not waking up all day concerned him, and he wanted her to have peace and quiet for the night. Our children were in the basement playing Wii video games and my wife had already gone to bed. On my way to bed, I stopped at the top of the stairs and listened to my mother’s faint breathing. Upstairs was completely dark and quiet. I spoke to my mother and told her it was okay to go now. We’d had the chance to say our last goodbyes and she could go now. I told her I loved her, and I went to bed. It wasn’t 5 minutes later my dad knocked on our bedroom door and he told us she had passed. We called the rest of the family so they could come to the house. I remember the whole family standing next to the bed in silence. I was on her right side, holding her hand with my sister, Sally, standing next to me. It was at that moment I witnessed something I had never witnessed before or since. I saw my mom’s spirit or outline sit up in bed and leave her body. Her spirit rose gently toward the corner of the ceiling… My mom’s spirit then turned her head, looked directly at me, smiled her biggest smile, then disappeared through the ceiling. I was in shock about what

I had just witnessed. I turned to my sister and asked her if she saw it; she didn’t. I asked others in the room if they saw what I just saw, they didn’t. I was amazed at what I saw and felt this overwhelming sense of joy to see that smile on my mother’s face. I felt an overwhelming amount of peace and calmness and knew I had just witnessed the beginnings of her afterlife. Something not many people ever get to witness let alone believe. I felt like I had inside information about death and dying and my faith in an afterlife changed completely after that day. I always had faith in God, believed in Jesus Christ our lord and savior but that belief was on faith alone. I had no physical evidence to go on, but believed nonetheless. But now I have hard evidence, and I have more peace because of it. I wasn’t sure why mom let me see her leave her body that night, but years later when I was diagnosed with an extremely deadly leukemia (AML), I had peace in my heart and had little to no fear of what was to come. I believe that helped me get through those treatments and the stem cell transplant, knowing there is an afterlife and not just an end to our existence.

Aftermath:

Reflections and Healing

Mom has come to visit me on a few occasions since. Once at a men’s spiritual weekend while I

A Mother's Farewell

was in deep prayer after receiving reconciliation (confession) from a Catholic priest, my mother came to me, didn’t speak, but I could feel her presence and her love and forgiveness. It completely blew me away and brought me to instant tears of joy. She came to me another time while I was in the hospital after receiving my stem cell transplant and when I was at one of my lowest points. My blood levels were low, requiring transfusions, my oxygen levels were in the 80s, requiring my need for oxygen and I had extreme mouth and throat pain from mucositis. I was on a pain pump and in and out of consciousness when she again came to me to assure me I was going to be all right and that she was there for me. Again, an overwhelming amount of peace and joy came over me. It was a turning point in my treatment and from that day forward I started getting better. My oxygen levels increased, my pain was more manageable, I was removed from the pump and was soon was on the road to recovery.

Thinking back about all three experiences, there may have been a reason she was visible to me after her death and came to me the other times. They say God has a plan. And if I having AML and the need for a stem cell transplant, it could have come with a

lot of stress, worry and fear. But for some reason, from the beginning, I put my complete trust in my doctors and nurses. I had very little fear of dying and knew all would be okay. If things took a turn for the worse, I had evidence that there was something beyond our life here on earth. Her brief glimpse of this, her visits when I needed her the most, were all for me to get through my experience with as little stress, worry and fear as possible. And it worked, and I thanked her for that.

I know this story may be hard to believe, but I can assure you, in my mind’s eye, this is what I witnessed, and I will go to my grave knowing there is more for us. There is some sort of afterlife waiting for us when we breathe our last breath. I no longer have a fear of death or dying and love my mother even more for showing me how to let go, that all will be well, no matter what happens. It was her final farewell, and I can’t thank her enough for it.

Epilogue

A message to the reader: If you’ve lost someone, or fear what lies ahead, know this:

in peace

There is beauty in letting go, and grace in what comes after. My mother showed me that death is not the end — it is a passage. And in that passage, there is peace and love.

Festival of Trees Celebrates “Forty Years of Silver and Gold”

Presented by Friends of Hospice, the 40th annual Festival of Trees “Forty Years of Silver and Gold” will be held November 29 through December 2 in downtown Easton. Presented by Friends of Hospice, the Festival of Trees has raised nearly $4 million to assist with Talbot Hospice’s operating budget.

Preview Gala: Launching the Festival of Trees has traditionally been the Preview Gala, a black-tie fundraising event, which will be held on Friday, November 28, at the Tidewater Inn’s Gold Room. From 6 to 8 p.m., guests will enjoy a lavish affair with the first opportunity to view 100 exquisitely trimmed trees of varying sizes, as well as a dozen elegantly decorated wreaths. A highlight of the evening is the opportunity to bid on a special tree decorated with exquisite Michael Aram ornaments. Tickets to the Gala are sold in advance only.

Festival of Trees: The Gold Ballroom opens to the public from Saturday, November 29 through December 2. On view will be 100 beautifully decorated and lit trees all adorned in white, gold and silver. Various live performances will entertain guests all four days.

Of note this year is that The Shoppe returns, selling tasteful items that are perfect for the gift-giving season.

Santa 5K Fun Run/Walk:

Dress with the holiday spirit in mind; participants hit the pavement on Saturday, November 29 at 9 a.m. at Idlewild Park. On-site registration starts at 8 a.m. and advance sign-ups are online at festival-of-trees.org.

Santa’s Workshop: This year’s family-friendly event will

Photograph courtesy of Randy Bachand

Festival of Trees

be held on Saturday, November 29 from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m., nestled in the Tidewater Inn’s Ballroom Garden. Children will be greeted by Santa and may pose for photos. Write a letter to Santa, enjoy an Elf Story Time, compete at game stations, create an ornament or color at various craft stations, and walk away with special tokens of the day. Santa’s workshop is free with admittance to the Festival of Trees.

Carols by Candlelight: Carols by Candlelight is a magical holiday event, free to all on Saturday, November 29 from 5 to 7 p.m. Sing along with choral groups,

bell ringers, and musicians. Visit with Santa on the grounds of The Bullitt House at the corner of Washington and Dover streets. Everyone gets a free candle and a candy cane. Food trucks will be on site, and holiday merchandise will be on sale. This event is perfect for families of all ages to enjoy.

Poinsettia Tree: View the beautiful 12-foot poinsettia “tree” during the Festival of Trees in the Gold Ballroom at The Tidewater Inn. Elegant white poinsettias, sold in advance to raise money for Talbot Hospice, will adorn the tree throughout the Festival. A memory scroll features those names to honor this holiday sea -

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son. Take home your poinsettias for the holidays or donate to Hospice House.

Keepsake Luminaries: A returning favorite! Keepsake luminaries honor a loved one. A limited number of the snow-white metal luminaries will be sold online, then displayed in the Gold Ballroom. At the conclusion of the Festival of Trees, the luminaries will be available for pickup in time to enjoy for the holiday season.

The tradition of Festival of Trees is rich with love and commitment to Talbot Hospice. After experiencing the loss of a loved one who was an early patient of Talbot Hospice, Midge Fuller and her friend Leslie Ware began a

crusade and spent a year organizing the very first Festival of Trees in 1985. The organization is as vibrant as ever and Midge and Leslie continue their crusade even now as this year’s Festival cochairmen.

In a joint statement, Leslie and Midge said, “As the founders of Friends of Hospice and the Festival of Trees, we offer our heartfelt gratitude for the support from our sponsors, decorators, chairmen, volunteers, and attendees for bringing this magical holiday event to our community every year.”

For more information and to purchase tickets, visit festival-oftrees.org.

Mid-Atlantic Symphony Orchestra Makes Holiday Magic by

Philip J. Webster

Ten concerts, appearances by a renowned guest conductor and three rising operatic stars, and over 50 seasonal favorites and orchestral masterpieces will make holiday musical magic in November and December as the Mid-Atlantic Symphony Orchestra celebrates Holiday Joy with its fast-growing audience from the Eastern Shore to the Atlantic Coast.

Now in its 28th season as the Delmarva Peninsula’s only professional regional symphony orchestra, the MSO will be led by

Guest Conductor George Jackson on Thursday, November 6 at 7:30 p.m. at Easton’s Church of God in the orchestra’s Echoes of Greatness concert. Jackson and the orchestra will perform masterworks by three of history’s most renowned composers: Beethoven’s Coriolan Overture, Mozart’s Symphony No. 39 and Mendelssohn’s Symphony No. 1. The concert will be repeated in Ocean Pines and Rehoboth Beach on November 7 and 8.

London-born Jackson, music director of the Amarillo Symphony,

is increasingly sought after as a guest conductor with European orchestras who appreciate his fearless conducting and thorough rehearsal technique. Recent engagements include Orchestre

de Paris, RTE National Symphony Orchestra, BBC Symphony Orchestra, Israel Contemporary Players, Vienna Chamber Orchestra, Opera de Rouen, the Orquesta Sinfonica de Castilla y León and Birmingham Contemporary Music Group. Jackson is an alumnus of the London, Weimar and Trinity College, Dublin conservatories and was awarded the Aspen Conducting Prize in 2016 and the 2012 Jeunesses Musicales Conducting Competition in Bucharest.

Soprano Kresley Figueroa will return to the MSO stage along with Baritone Jonathan Patton on Thursday, December 4 at 7:30 p.m. for the orchestra’s beloved Holiday Joy concert at the Todd Performing

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Arts Center at Chesapeake College in Wye Mills. Grammy-winning Music

Director Michael Repper, now in his fourth season with the MSO, will lead the concert featuring seasonal music from past and present and operatic selections. Two special attractions will be members of the MSO audience, who will conduct and play “the whip” in Leroy Anderson’s iconic Sleigh Ride. Lewes and Ocean City audiences will enjoy the concert on December 6 and 7.

Both Figueroa and Patton have been Cafritz Young Artists with the Washington National Opera. In 2024, Figueroa was awarded First Place and the Audience Favorite prize in the James Toland Vocal Arts Competition and Third Prize in Florida Grand Opera’s National Voice Competition. She

The Holidays Are a Time When Magic Fills the Air

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Symphony

also was a winner of the Duncan Williams Voice Competition and an Encouragement Award winner in auditions for the Metropolitan Opera Laffont Competition. Patton made his Carnegie Hall debut last summer in Faure’s Requiem and was a 2024 semifinalist in the Metropolitan Opera Laffont Competition.

Principal MSO musicians playing trumpet, French horn, trombone, tuba and percussion will fill Christ Church, Easton with holiday favorites at the Holiday Brass Quintet concert on Sunday, December 21 at 4 p.m. Themed Christmas on Broadway, the performance will feature selections from West Side Story, Wizard of Oz, Wicked, The Sound of Music, The Grinch and The Lion King, along with favorite carols and songs of the season. The concert will also be performed for audiences in Ocean Pines and Rehoboth Beach on December 19 and 20.

Ending the holiday season with a concert reminiscent of Vienna’s annual concert from the Musikverein, Maestro Michael Repper will lead the orchestra and soprano Viviana Goodwin in ringing in the New Year on Wednesday, December 31 at 7 p.m. in Christ Church, Easton in a perennially sold-out New Year’s Eve tradition, followed by Easton’s famous Crab Drop. Expect Strauss waltzes, much loved operatic selections and the world-renowned Radetzky March by Johann Strauss II.

Goodwin is a member of the Washington National Opera’s Cafritz Young Artists program, having just sung the principal role in Zambello’s production of Porgy & Bess at The Kennedy Center. This season, she will be the principal in Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro and play the title role in Treemonisha with Denyce Graves. Visit www.midatlanticsymphony. org or call 1-888-846-8600 for more information and to purchase tickets for any or all of these holiday offerings.

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 .

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 .

EASTON,

MD Nov. 14-16, 2025 See you downtown!

“Down the Road” Oil on board by Featured Artist, Al Barker

All Quiet on the Sound A novel by

B. P. Gallagher

Chapter 27: Epistles from Elsewhere

Echoes of the verdict reverberated. Two weeks after Earl’s sentencing, someone set fire to the Gibbs house under cover of night, then stole away by boat. Thankfully, Clara was next door at the time. The search for a culprit was ongoing, though the local constabulary seemed curiously uninvested in catching the arsonists. At least, that was the word through the grapevine.

Meanwhile, Earl’s day-to-day existence in the state penitentiary

devolved into an unending series of doldrums. He soon settled into a tolerable routine, supplemented with an exercise regimen developed during his stint in county jail. When three square meals and exercise alone proved inadequate to occupy his mind, he turned to other pursuits.

For a while, he tried to live vicariously through letters to people on the outside. But his list of correspondents was short, and some more responsive than others. He never ended up sending that thankyou to Henry Ford, but Braddock

became a regular confidant of sorts, even if attorney-client decorum constrained them to the driest subject matter. When penmanship failed to raise his spirits, he perused musty newspapers and even mustier books from the impoverished prison library and lived through their dogeared and yellowed pages. For the first time since Mom’s efforts at homeschooling, he was reading regularly, learning from something other than hands-on experience. His mental life was enriched for it, even if his physical life was constrained. Yet he would have traded the contents of a hundred books for an hour out on the Sound, or even a workday at the marina. Here, the passage of time was measured in pushups and pages rifled through. They piled up like dead leaves over the weeks and months.

Elsewhere, life continued.

Margaret wrote often from Albany, where she seemed to be enjoying life as the newly minted Mrs. Everett. Jonah attended law school there, and the pair of them had eloped at the start of the fall semester. In her neat, cramped script, Maggie wrote of homemaking and vocational classes at the local college, where she was learning the skills for a promised secretarial post at the firm where Jonah apprenticed. Her efficient handwrit-

ing would serve her well in that capacity.

Earl tried not to begrudge her happiness, but it got harder to answer her letters after a time. Maggie couldn’t help but infuse her writing with a sense of dynamism and motion, a naked vim for life that evaded Earl in his imprisonment. Lately she had become conscious of this, which rather than tempering her instincts had the unfortunate effect of highlighting them in a sort of grating meta-commentary.

A recent, typical missive read thus:

Dearest Earl, I miss you and love you and hope you are well, or as well as can be hoped given the circumstances. Please know that Jonah and I have been sending letters almost without cease to the District Attorney on your behalf. Jonah’s gained a prominent position at his firm in the past year and seems to think your next bid for parole will be successful. If so, I guess you’ll truly be an Earl-y bird, in the most important sense. I hope you can please forgive me the flippancy of that remark.

In answer to the questions posed in your previous letter: yes, Dougal is still growing, almost fast as me—Jonah thinks we’ve both got a ways to go yet—and yes, I’m still taking that evening typing course. Doogie’s only gotten more protective the bigger the both of us

get. He’ll either be the baby’s best friend, or jealous as hell once he’s not the center of attention anymore. As for the typing, I’m getting pretty fast. Jonah got me a Royal for home and seems to think I could make court stenographer someday if I keep at it once the baby arrives. Probably I won’t even handwrite my next letter. Or maybe I’ll handwrite and type a copy in shorthand. Sorry, I realize it must sound like I’m bragging, which isn’t at all my intention.

On that note, I suppose I understand why your letters have become less frequent. At first I feared you might be ill, or maltreated in that horrid pit they call a penitentiary. But I know better now. I suspect it’s much the reason Leon rarely writes me anymore—not that I ever expected him to keep up constant correspondence, but I sense the same hesitance in both your letters, or lack thereof. I needn’t burden you with that, though.

Do you resent me? I’d understand, if so. But I hope, if you do, that it doesn’t ferment to hate with time. If in silence that is less likely, I will stop writing you. Please let me know one way or the other, because wondering is torment. Either way, I hope eventually we can all be together again, how things were in the good old days. I can’t

wait for you to meet your niece or nephew.

All my love, Maggie

She’d always been clever, and her perceptiveness extended to the subtleties of the written word. Earl knew he should be happy for her newfound life. She was only doing as he’d insisted, after all. But if her joy came through to such a cloying degree in her words, his bitterness was bound to curdle his. So he found it easier to write less as time went on, and instead made gestures when he could manage. He’d even mailed a few dollars earned in the prison laundry for a wedding gift when he heard she’d eloped, and every couple months since learning of her pregnancy.

Leon wrote less often, with less detail, and—when he penned the letters himself—in a far sloppier hand. But he wrote, in his way. Birthday and holiday letters were almost always dictated to Clara, whose spidery hand had the benefit of being legible. She even managed to capture most of Leon’s dialectical peculiarities while maintaining her grammatical integrity, although Earl suspected she took liberties with the prose. He’d never known Leon to use the word “convivial” in any context, never mind to inquire after the current atmosphere of the prison yard.

A few weeks after Earl’s 23rd birthday, he received the following

communique from the desk of Leon Eldridge Higgins, esquire:

Dear Earl—

How’s the slammer? I reckon that left of yours is faster than ever, but I hope you ain’t been in too many tussles. If you are, though, show those boys in there what I taught you. Don’t worry, you ain’t missing much here on the island. Folks are moving on in droves these days, seems like, and them that still debark from the island have to go farther and farther for their catch. Fishing’s not too bad this year, but the crabbing’s shit and oysters are going that way. Shoals are all tore up, I guess.

Maybe it’s those damned U-Boats I keep hearing about that’re doing it. Bubba Coyne swears he saw one off Ocean City a few weeks back, but that’s Bubba for you.

I’m making my way as a working man and a husband, or near enough to. Starting to consider going back to tugging part-time, now the kid is a little older. The Marylou awaits you when you get out—she deserves a proper captain. Lord knows I’m not cut out to be a waterman for the rest of my natural life, but maybe if I had my brother helping me out... Just something to think on. Our sister informs me you don’t have long left to rot in there, if Jonah’s fancy legal finagling works out.

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All Quiet

Speaking of Maggie, she writes me thrice or four times for every letter I send back. But I know for a fact Clara’s filling her in on the important stuff in-between. Unlike the goddamn holes they keep digging next door, as if the island needed any more of its earth disturbed. I keep telling that bastard there’s not a thing to be found there except ashes and maybe the bones of some old pets, but he sends a crew out every few weeks anyways. I reckon he just likes tearing up my yard to remind me he’s keeping an eye on me. Somehow I don’t think they’ll ever figure out who torched the Gibbs place, though,

even if they spend years nosing around (God forbid). I wonder why that is.

Anyways, when you do get out, you’ve got a place with us for however long you need. This is still your home, same as ever. You’ll find it a little more crowded now, I expect, but I reckon you’ll get along fine with Shane. He’s smart as a whip, just like his mom and aunt. As long as he don’t take after me except in looks (no helping that), I reckon he’ll turn out fine, especially with an uncle like you to look up to.

Much love, your brother, Leon Eldridge Higgins P.S. Those Tangiermen we met that time stopped by the island, if

Casual Classics

All Quiet

you’d believe it. Long Jim’s broader than ever now, and I think Filch made off with one of the wife’s silver teaspoons but that might just be his legend growing in my head. At any rate, Clara has an even harder time than me understanding them fellas, so despite sitting down to dinner together I’ve not got too much else to report on their account. They’re doing alright by the looks of them, though.

Why Leon felt it necessary to note both his relation to Earl and his full name, as if there could be any mistaking the letter’s author from that chicken-scratch alone, Earl didn’t know. Drawn below the postscript in the lower right hand corner was an arrow directing the reader to the back of the page. Earl fl ipped the letter over and found a second postscript in his brother’s unmistakably sloppy hand. It began:

P.P.S. Been wanting to do this ever since Clara told me those bastards read over all your letters…

Below which Leon had scrawled one of the most obscenely colorful sentences Earl had ever seen put to page. Chuckling, he pinned it up on the wall next to his bunk.

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.

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