September 2025 Tidewater Times Web Magazine

Tidewater Times September 2025

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Delivering Pets with Care and Heart: Tracey F.

Tidewater Gardening K. Marc Teffeau

Frederick Douglass Day by

James Young

On Sat., Sept. 27, the Talbot County community will once again gather in Easton’s historic downtown to honor the legacy of Frederick Douglass, one of the county’s most celebrated historical figures. The famed orator and anti-slavery activist was born into slavery near Easton in 1818 and rose to nationwide prominence after the publication of his first autobiography, which detailed his early life and his struggle to escape from captivity. This year’s Frederick Douglass Day will include speeches from local community leaders, music and

activities that will both entertain and educate people of all ages.

The festivities will begin at 10 a.m. with a parade led by Grand Marshall Childene Brooks, a former president of the Frederick Douglass Honor Society, as well as Community Marshall Brianna Wooden, whose mother, Brenda, was also a president of FDHS.

Participants in this year’s parade include local community organization BAAM (Building African American Minds), the Easton High School NJROTC Color Guard, Polaris Village Academy, the Easton

Frederick Douglass

Frederick Douglass

and Oxford fire departments and more. Musical acts in the parade include the Easton Middle School and White Marsh Elementary School bands, as well as local bagpiper Randy Welch. The parade will begin at the elementary school on Glenwood Ave and proceed to the Talbot County Courthouse on Washington St.

The parade will conclude at 10:30 a.m. with a Welcome Ceremony held on the front lawn of the Talbot County Courthouse, hosted by Mistress of Ceremonies Gabriella Thompson. The ceremony will begin with an invocation by Javion Jones, a 15-year-old minister at Union Baptist Church. Following the invocation, speeches will be given by members of the Talbot County community, including Mayor of Easton Megan Cook, Talbot County Public Schools Su-

Fall ‘25 Collection, Arriving Weekly

Monday-Saturday 10:30-5:30

Frederick Douglass

perintendent Dr. Sharon Pepukayi, Talbot County Free Library Director Dana Newman, Washington College fellow Darius Johnson, Talbot County student Giuliana Thompson and more. Music for the ceremony will be provided by the Mid-Shore Community Band directed by Matthew Fullerton, as well as Randy Welch and Dana Bowser.

Immediately following the ceremony, the Children’s Village will begin outside the Talbot County Free Library. This event is always a hit – children of all ages can enjoy face painting, Douglass-themed coloring books, a prize wheel, a

portrait booth featuring photos with Frederick Douglass and story

Frederick Douglass

time with Shauna Beulah at 11:30 and 12:30. Visitors can check inside the library for multimedia panels showing images of Douglass and his family as well as biographical and historical information; the National Park Service will also be providing several items owned by Douglass.

At 1 p.m. in the library’s meeting room, a lecture will be given by Nicholas Buccola, professor of humanism and ethics at Claremont McKenna College in Claremont, Calif. The lecture, titled “Frederick Douglass, American Revolutionary,” will explore how Douglass conceived of himself as an heir to the American revolutionaries and reimagined revolutionary principles to meet the challenges of his time. Buccola’s writing on

Douglass and other figures such as James Baldwin and Abraham Lincoln has been widely celebrated; his upcoming book, One Man’s Freedom, explores the ideological conflict between Martin Luther King Jr. and conservative politician Barry Goldwater.

The musical events of the day will continue from noon to 3 p.m. at the Entertainment Stage, located at the intersection of Dover and West St. Solo performers include American Idol contestant Ayla Dennis, Ruby Fisher and Sofia Fernandez. Group acts include the Asbury United Methodist Choir, directed by Ricky Caldwell, the New St. John’s United Methodist Men’s Choir, directed by Dwight Henry, Allegra Academy Choir, directed by Amy Morgan, the Bay Country Chorus and a capella group Friends in Faith. Adjacent to the entertainment stage, a marketplace will feature local food vendors and other organizations.

Frederick Douglass Day, which began in 2011, has been a staple of the Talbot County community for over a decade and is always packed with fun and educational events. This year will be no exception, so mark your calendars for Sat., Sept. 27 to celebrate the life and legacy of one of our country’s greatest minds.

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Out of the Ashes

Faith Chapel’s Congregation Rallies After Lightning Strike

by Tracey F. Johns

A literal act of God struck more than just the roof of Faith Chapel United Methodist Church—it struck the heart of Talbot County’s close-knit community of Bruceville and beyond.

Bruceville is a small, unincorporated village situated at the crossroads of Bruceville Road and Windy Hill Road in the heart of what locals call Bambury Neck. The community once thrived as a hub for agriculture and river trade and today remains a close-knit, multigenerational residential spot.

During a storm this past July,

lightning set fire to the 140-yearold Faith Chapel, leaving behind scorched timbers and stunned silence. As the charred wood cooled, however, a wave of resolve swept through the chapel’s worshippers and to those in the surrounding Trappe area.

“There’s something about this place,” said Anne Gustafson, a longtime member whose family’s milestones—including baptisms, weddings and worship—have been shaped beneath Faith Chapel’s steeple.

“We’ve been members for al-

Moment of impact caught on a neighbors security camera.

Out of the Ashes

most 30 years,” she says. “Our sons were baptized here, and our oldest son was married here. The church holds so many good memories for the community.”

Founded in 1885, Faith Chapel is more than a building. It’s a surviving thread in the tapestry of Methodism’s long history on the Delmarva Peninsula.

Often referred to as the ‘Garden of American Methodism,’ the region bore early witness to itinerant preachers, fledgling societies and the establishment of small churches that became spiritual outposts for rural communities, according to the Rev. Gary Moore,

Rev. Gary Moore

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Out of the Ashes

the church’s pastor and an avid historian of Methodism.

“The purpose of Methodism was to renew the Anglicans of the church,” said Rev. Moore. “So, when Methodist people started coming to the East Coast, that model was being replicated here. You’ve got all of these small groups. That’s what they called societies.”

Moore sees the story of Faith Chapel as part of a broader narrative of lay leadership and spiritual resilience.

“In rural communities, you’re

not going to have big churches,” Moore said, as he offered an analogy of a small church to music.

“But a really good piece of music can be played by a small group or a full symphony and still be equally meaningful,” he said. “The music of a church, whether a small church or a larger one, is really the same. It’s just the scope that changes.”

That sentiment resonates deeply with Bob Croswell, a Trappe native and unofficial historian of Faith Chapel. Though he never lived in Bruceville, his family roots run deep there. In 1992, when the congregation had dwindled to a handful of older women and the church was on the brink of closure, Croswell stepped in, not with fanfare, but with a Commodore 64 computer and an old Hammond organ.

“There wasn’t much magic in

Out of the Ashes

1990s technology,” he laughed. “But I modified the computer, pieced together some scraps and hooked it up to the organ. We had music as it was. And people started coming.”

That trickle became a flood, and by 1997, attendance had grown by 600 percent, according to the Chapel’s historic documents. Faith Chapel received the Order of St. Barnabas Award for its revival—a rare honor usually bestowed on individuals, but in this case granted to the entire church after the nominated member declined individual recognition.

“People liked this little church,” Croswell said. “We just thought it would always be there.”

Now, in the wake of the fire, that assumption is being tested once again.

The July lightning strike raged through the attic space of the upper story, where the HVAC system is, causing damage to the sanctuary and leaving the community reeling. The building, enlarged in

1902 and lovingly maintained over generations, now stands needing major repair far beyond the tarpcovered hole in its roof. Waterdamaged timbers, carpet and pews are among the sobering reminders of what was lost, but also what remains.

“When I was at the church the morning after, so many people came by to ask about it,” Gustafson said. “Old and new community members. Some had gone there as kids or had family buried nearby. Everyone asked the same thing. ‘Can it be saved?’”

The answer from the chapel’s leadership and members has been a resounding yes.

“We’re hoping to rebuild the church,” Gustafson said. “Not just

Out of the Ashes

the building, but the ways the community uses this space and our two acres of land. We need the community, and the community needs Faith Chapel.”

That sense of mutual dependence goes beyond Sunday mornings. The church has long served as a hub for fellowship, memory and service, even for those who don’t worship there regularly.

“The people of this community have overwhelmingly expressed the desire to keep this church as a focal point of their small community,” Croswell said. “It’s just always been there and available.”

Faith Chapel’s story is interwoven with the complicated religious history of the area. In the post-Civil War era, the congregation was part of the Southern Methodist tradition, alongside Trinity Methodist Church in Trappe. Churches like Lebanon and Avery Chapel were affiliated with the non-Southern Methodists, reflecting broader

denominational and cultural divisions of the time. Avery Chapel, like several others, ceased operations by the early 20th century.

“Unfortunately, that’s happened before—to at least four other Trappe-area churches,” Croswell said. “The buildings get repurposed or just fall down. Then, a hundred years later, someone comes along looking for history that is lost.”

The community is determined not to let that happen to Faith Chapel.

Efforts to raise funds for reconstruction are underway, with leaders stressing that this is about more than bricks and mortar.

“This isn’t about rebuilding a historic building,” Croswell said. “It’s about rebuilding a communi-

Out of the Ashes

ty to care for the building, to lead people to Jesus and provide a place to worship.”

That message is already resonating across the Eastern Shore. Donations have begun trickling in. Volunteers have offered their time and tools. And the spirit of renewal that saved the church three decades ago seems to be rekindling once more.

As the Rev. Moore puts it, the future of small churches like Faith Chapel is not about numbers, but about purpose.

“These churches were never about being large,” Moore said. “They were about being faithful — about being places where people gather, worship and support one another. That model is as relevant today as it ever was.”

Gustafson agrees.

“I think the rebuild will encourage the community to join us again in our weekly services,” she said. “We hope people will come, worship and keep the music of this church playing.”

For those who have walked through Faith Chapel’s front doors, sat in its creaky pews or sung beneath its once-intact roof, the church is more than a historic landmark. It’s a spiritual home, and one that this small group of parishioners is determined to reclaim.

As Croswell put it simply: “If

people don’t support the church with their attendance and their gifts, the time will come when it won’t be there when our community needs it.”

The storm may have taken Faith Chapel’s roof, but not its foundation, nor its faith.

Maybe that act of God is a call to the community to resurrect a symbol of hope, faith and unity. Something we could all use today and likely need for the generations who follow.

How You Can Help

Faith Chapel United Methodist Church is currently accepting donations for its rebuilding effort. Contributions can be sent to:

Faith Chapel UMC Rebuild Fund 4860 Windy Hill Rd. Trappe, MD 21673

Out of the Ashes

For more information, call 410714-9390.

As Faith Chapel looks to rise from the ashes, its members invite the community to join them — not just in rebuilding a church, but in preserving a legacy.

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.

Sint Maarten/St. Martin

One Island – Two Nations – One People Part 1

Bonna L. Nelson

Crystal-clear turquoise seas, sparkling sand beaches, secluded coves, brilliant azure sky, tropical forestcovered mountains, bougainvillea and orchids, warm welcomes and adventures at every turn attracted us to the Eastern Caribbean island. We were also eager to visit the smallest landmass in the world shared by two nations. St. Maarten/St. Martin, nicknamed by locals “SXM,” two countries, one Dutch, one French, binational, multicultural, offer -

ing unique diverse experiences in manageable bites. The residents represent the cultures of 100 nations spanning the globe.

The two-flight trip took us from BWI to Atlanta with a flight change and then direct to Philipsburg, the bustling capital and cruise port for St. Maarten. After an easy customs experience, we found our car rental shop. The agent loaded a Google Maps-type app for the island onto John’s cell, which was hugely helpful

One Island - Two Nations

for traversing the two countries with few road signs. He even annotated our resort location and the best food store near it.

SXM is one of the smaller islands in the region of the Caribbean known as the Dutch Antilles, at just 37

square miles. In 1998, the country celebrated 350 years of dual nationality according to the National Geographic Traveler, The Caribbean . Though dual nationalities, friendly residents actually represent the cultures of 100 nations spanning the globe.

The French occupy the slightly larger northern portion of the island, and that is where we stayed. Even though there are no border controls between the two sides of the island, local people are proud of their separate identities. The border is marked with plaques and flags but nothing else. During our two weeks of touring, we frequently observed visitors stopping at the border crossing points taking photos on a road that

One Island - Two Nations

encircles the outer edge of the island.

The National Geographic guidebook offered that according to local legend, the division of the island was settled by a Frenchman and a Dutchman who set out to walk around the island in opposite directions. The Frenchman was armed with a bottle of brandy, the Dutchman with gin. The former, refreshed by brandy, fared better and when the dividing line was drawn, the French secured 21 square miles of territory and the Dutch only 16. Lesson learned, when you are creating national border boundaries, celebrate with brandy.

SXM shares a common history

with other Caribbean islands in that its earliest inhabitants were Amerindians, followed by Europeans who introduced slavery to enable its commercial interests. Now SXM is notable for its history of peaceful open borders. Apart from a monument at one border point, you really won’t notice when you cross from one side to the other. You will experience, as we did, the beauty of this unique blend of Dutch, French and Caribbean cultures, with each side having its own special charm and character as well as atmosphere, cuisine, language (though everyone on both sides speaks English), architecture and history.

Sint Maaerten, on the Dutch side of SXM, is a constituent country

TIDE TABLE

OXFORD, MD SEPTEMBER 2025

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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 10:41 11:47 12:47 1:39 2:27 3:10 3:52 4:32 5:12 5:53 6:37 7:25 8:19 9:21 10:29 11:40 12:52 1:53 2:45 3:27 4:04 4:37 5:08 5:39 6:12 6:48 7:30 8:18 9:14 10:15

One Island - Two Nations

of the Kingdom of the Netherlands located in the Netherlands Antilles. Its capital, Phillipsburg, is a popular cruise port, recognized as the number-one cruise port in the Caribbean. The popular port also offers high-end, designer duty-free shopping. The island’s only international airport is located there. It is known for its vibrant nightlife, casinos, local arts and crafts and a wide range of activities. A famous tourist spot is a beach near the airport where planes fly so low you can practically touch them. Beware of the jet blast!

The slightly larger French side, with its capital Marigot, St. Martin is a designated an overseas collectivity belonging to France. Less populated, with more cactus and scrub-covered mountains and natural areas, the French side was our home for two weeks. There we found the warm weather, peace and tranquility that we craved, along with culinarily captivating food at multiple restaurants

and local spots, French bakeries, French wine shops and lovely remote beaches. St. Martin is café and croissant country, a little bit of heaven.

Despite its small size, SXM attracts more than one million visitors a year to its 37 beaches on its 37 square miles. Tourists find it convenient that the U.S. dollar is accepted in both countries and are attracted to the multitude of beaches. We made it our mission to visit or see as many of those 37 beaches as possible. We set eyes on 24 gorgeous, tranquil beaches by land and by sea (some remote beaches with no roads can only be reached by sea or with long, hot hikes).

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One Island - Two Nations Marcel, our resort and beach. A bit famished and tired as we headed from St. Maarten to St. Martin, we came to a complete standstill at an intersection on the French side blocked by local police officers.

Driving in other countries doesn’t faze my John. With the help of the local map app, he cruised us out of bustling downtown Phillipsburg onto the main highway heading towards our destination at the farthest end of the island, Le Domaine Anse

To our astonishment, colorfully costumed dancers, performers and musicians of all ages marched by on the road we needed to be on. We had arrived at the annual island Carnivale parade with nothing to be

EASTERN SHORE

Melissa Grimes-Guy Photography

done but watch and enjoy as we did! We were intoxicated by the luminous shades of fuchsia, teal, lemon and lime sequined costumes, the jaunty reggae music, the beat of the drums and the happy, smiling faces and soon forgot that we were hungry and impatient to reach “home.”

We arrived at Anse Marcel at dusk after driving up and down and

around several curving mountains and finding the resort in a valley on a cove on a beach. A charming young man speaking heavily Frenchaccented English checked us in and then hopped in our car to direct us to our studio condominium with balcony overlooking the quiet sea. He took our luggage to our space, shared a few tips about the beach, dining, and room and where to dine that night and then we were on our own.

After walking to a nearby restaurant for a quick bite, we returned to our room and relaxed on our balcony observing the night sky, sea, beach and quiet, then slept soundly. The next day, we were delighted with a breakfast of delicate French pastries and lattes at the resort’s patio res -

One Island - Two Nations

taurant overlooking the cove dotted with a few sailboats.

Grocery shopping was a delight! Our condo had a kitchenette, and we planned to enjoy some meals in and some out. We found French bread, pastries, sandwiches and wine at a nearby well-stocked store and French bakery. French cheeses and wines filled our shopping bags along with fresh fruits and vegetables.

Back at Anse Marcel, we had our choice of lounge chairs by the pool or on the beach. Towels and umbrellas were provided, too. The cabana staff kindly directed us to a quiet beach area and later came by for drink and lunch orders. How lazy were we? We didn’t have to move a muscle. Since the public comes to dine there and use the beach with a fee for chairs and umbrellas, the staff suggested

that as resort guests, we reserve our favorite beach lounging spot, chairs and umbrellas for the two weeks (with no fee), which we gladly did.

We ended the first beach day with dinner and wine on our balcony while watching the sun set over the

caramel-colored Anse Marcel beach. The cove on which the resort is situated looks like a volcanically produced caldera, as we observed in Santorini, Greece. Mountains loom over and encircle the cove and need to be conquered by driving up, down and around wild, narrow switchbacks, breathtaking curves overlooking the sea, when coming

from or going to the resort.

We elected to be sun safe by alternating beach days with adventure days. Though we practice safe sun habits—sunscreen, hats, sunglasses, beach umbrella, break at lunchtime, etc.—we were closer to the Equator, and therefore there was greater sun intensity. Plus, there was so much to explore!

We explored bays, beaches and botanical gardens. We explored marinas, markets and museums. We explored towns, villages, forts, farms, nature preserves, salt ponds and historical sites. We dined at restaurants, lounges, local “Lolos,” cafes, grills and on our balcony. We enjoyed grilled lobster, grilled red snapper, conch fritters and conch

One Island - Two Nations

chowder. We listened to local musicians and admired local arts. We went beachcombing, sunbathing, swimming, fi shing, driving, hiking and sailing. We shopped. We cooked. We laughed. We lounged. We relaxed. We napped. We watched sunrises and sunsets. We experienced

two united nationalities on one small island in the Caribbean with all its beauty and culture.

With one main road encircling the island, it takes about 1 ½ hours to drive all the way around the island, depending on traffic. But that is without stopping to savor and enjoy all that SXM has to off er. Coming soon, observe, partake and experience more of our adventures and explorations on St. Maarten and St. Martin in the towns, museums and restaurants, on the beaches and on the water.

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

Learning to Care by Michael

I wish learning to care for others was a requirement for being human. We all encounter people in our lives, family, friends, co-workers, who go through difficult times physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. What if each of us learned at least a little bit about how to help someone navigate those tough times? I have both seen and experienced the change that takes place in someone when they

Valliant

open themselves up to learn to be a caregiver. There are a few takeaways that can be helpful in any of our daily lives.

First, some context.

One of the requirements to become an Episcopal priest is to complete a unit of Clinical and Pastoral Education (CPE). This is separate from a seminary education. Where seminary trains your brain, CPE forms your heart.

The newest class of trained Stephen Ministers at Christ Church Easton, lay caregivers trained to help individuals who are going through a difficult time.

Learning to Care

To complete a unit of CPE, you receive 100 hours of classroom instruction, and you have to log 300 clinical hours, actively engaging in pastoral care in a hospital or hospice setting, along with pastoral meetings with parishioners and others in need of care. To that end, my co-worker and classmate Rev. Kelsey Spiker and I became chaplain interns at the Easton Hospital (University of Maryland Medical Center at Easton) for four months. A number of years ago, the Easton Hospital made a budget decision to get rid of its chaplaincy program. So a number of clergy and certified chaplain caregivers came

Learning to Care

together to coordinate and staff a volunteer on-call chaplaincy, which is made up of various churches and synagogues in the area, including local Episcopal Churches, the Easton Church of the Brethren, Real Life Chapel (Nazarene), the Temple B’nai Israel, and Saints Peter and Paul. If a patient asks for a chaplain, or is looking for spiritual or pastoral care, nurses know to reach out to the chaplain who is on call. As chaplain interns, Rev. Kelsey and I made regular rounds on the different floors of the Easton Hospital.

Let me say that nurses and teachers make our world go around. If

selfless and caring people didn’t step into these professions and callings our society would fall apart. And sadly, both of these jobs are frequently overlooked and underappreciated. In hospitals and hospice organizations, nurses care for so many patients during their shifts that they have to keep on the move to tend to all their needs.

That’s where chaplains come in. We can stop through, sit and listen, ask questions, and have conversations. In my experience, some patients might want to pray or take Communion, but most just appreciate having someone to talk to, someone to listen to them, someone to acknowledge that they are a feeling person going through something they have no control over.

Chaplaincy is the lens I am looking through. There are also programs locally, such as the Stephen Ministry program at Christ Church Easton, learning to be a caregiving volunteer at Talbot Hospice among others, where you learn to walk beside someone who needs some extra help. The things you learn and experience are useful for anyone who is just trying to be a better friend, family member, or just a more caring person.

Sooner or later, we all experience suffering. Something happens to our health or the health of someone we love; we lose a loved one; we go through a divorce or the loss of a relationship; lose a job. Every

The designated chapel at the Easton Hospital

Learning to Care

religion and spiritual tradition acknowledges the presence of suffering and tries to help us make some sense of it.

One of the things that is stressed in CPE is learning to be a non-anxious presence for someone. Showing up, listening, allowing someone a safe place (person) to be vulnerable with, to share with, who doesn’t add to their stress or anxiety, and who doesn’t judge them.

We often discuss the idea of being versus doing. Whether as a chaplain or a caring friend, rarely can we fix what someone is going through. But we can be there with them so that they aren’t alone.

Talking about empathy, social worker, researcher, storyteller and best-selling author Brene Brown writes:

“One of the things we do sometimes in the face of very difficult conversations is we try to make things better. If I share something with you that’s very difficult, I’d rather you say, ‘I don’t even know what to say. I’m just so glad you told me.’ Because the truth is, rarely can a response make something better. What makes something better is connection.”

Brown describes “sympathy” as feeling sorry for someone, whereas “empathy” is feeling with someone; not judging them but taking on

New Townie Go! S their perspective to better understand what they are going through. Can you imagine what the world

The

would be like if we all took the time and made the effort to see and feel and to allow ourselves to take on someone else’s perspective?

“Family systems” is a concept that we spend a lot of time with in pastoral education. The idea is that an individual person does not exist in isolation, but is part of a nuclear family, even if that family is broken up or nonexistent. We are at least in part products of the people and the way we were raised. If someone has had a traumatic childhood, they carry that trauma with them. If we can see someone and what they are going through as also consisting of these key family relationships and history, we can better understand who they are.

Townie Go! has re-entered the chat with a fresh, new look and more power. It still features the legendary comfort and control of a Townie, but now with a throttle. Rolling to the park with your kiddo? Heading to happy hour with friends? Tackling your daily commute like a boss? Make getting there the fun part.

Learning to Care

Learning to care for people asks us to take on perspectives that are not our own. It asks us to see, experience, and open ourselves to someone else’s experience and not to drop our experiences or judgment on them. In doing this, we learn more about ourselves than in almost any other way—we see how our own upbringings and biases, our own viewpoints and education, shape who we are and how we see the world and other people. And when we allow ourselves to take on someone else’s experience, we can become more loving and caring, and more self-aware.

In his book, “Seven Thousand Ways to Listen: Staying Close to What is Sacred,” author Mark Nepo writes:

“Listening is more a matter of letting things enter and combine than sorting and analyzing. And loving is more a matter of being a conduit than a mirror. And living is more a matter of keeping everything connected than fending off life with our will.”

Listening, loving, and living— each of these things asks us to receive and connect; to be open and to share. I might add learning to these key “L” words.

During the month of August, Rev. Kelsey and I completed our CPE program. At the end of September, we are scheduled to be ordained as Episcopal priests. But CPE and ordination are not endings or the finish line in any way, they are points of beginning. These are steps in our lifelong journeys of learning to care.

What if each of us opened ourselves up and put some time toward learning to care? I can’t imagine much that would change our community, or our world, more for the better.

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.

Local Catch

Jamie Merida Interiors & Bountiful Home Celebrates 25 Years

Jamie Merida Interiors & Bountiful Home is proud to celebrate 25 successful years in Easton, Maryland. What began in 1999 as a charming antiques shop has grown into a premier destination for home furnishings, gifts and interior design on the Eastern Shore. Owned and founded by Jamie Merida, the business now employs 30 dedicated team members and serves clients throughout the Mid-Atlantic region.

Originally located in Talbot Town Shopping Center, the business made a significant move in 2019 to its spacious, beautifully renovated showroom on Goldsborough Street in Easton. The new location allowed for expanded services and a broader selection of offerings to meet the evolving needs of its customers.

In addition to its popular furniture, home accessories and gifts, the business has recently expanded to include a flooring department, custom framing studio, Hunter Douglas window treatment gallery and a full-service kitchen and bath design center. These additions further enhance the business’s ability to provide comprehensive, highquality solutions for home renovation and interior styling projects.

“Our goal has always been to

bring beauty, comfort and timeless style into our clients’ homes,” said Jamie Merida. “Over the past 25 years, we’ve grown tremendously thanks to the support of our amazing clients, our talented team and the vibrant Easton community. We’re excited about the future and look forward to continuing to evolve with our customers’ needs.”

To commemorate the 25th anniversary, Jamie Merida Interiors & Bountiful Home will host a celebratory party on September 26 at 6 p.m., including live music, lite fare and a raffle for a $10,000 shopping spree to benefit Talbot Humane.

For more information, visit jamiemerida.com or follow @jamiemerida on Instagram and Facebook.

Delivering Pets with Care, Precision, and Heart

by Tracey F. Johns

Royal Oak resident Ben O’Donnell doesn’t just transport pets. He moves memories, connects families, and offers peace of mind with every crate strapped into his vehicle.

As the owner and operator of Kingsdale Transport LLC, a pet transportation business based on Maryland’s Mid-Shore, O’Donnell has built a thriving enterprise on a foundation of care, professionalism, and the kind of attention to detail that pet owners value when trusting someone with their furry companions.

His journey began in the rolling fields of Queen Anne’s County, where he was raised on a farm and surrounded by animals of every kind.

“I grew up on a large family farm with horses, sheep, chickens, pigs, labradors, you name it,” O’Donnell said. “I was very involved in 4-H. I learned early on how to handle animals with respect and responsibility.”

That young exposure to animal care would later shape the vision behind Kingsdale Transport.

Before launching the business, O’Donnell’s career path took several turns. After graduating from Queen Anne’s County High School, he attended Chesapeake College to study Addictions Counseling and Human Services.

When the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted life in 2020, O’Donnell found himself at a crossroads. He was asked by a friend to watch their dog, then another friend reached

Kingsdale Transport

out, and before long, the referrals started to fly. His one client operation snowballed into more than 40.

“It started with watching a pet for a friend, and then I was petsitting for a friend of a friend, then five friends of friends,” he said with a smile. “I have always had a passion for helping people—and animals.”

“I went from walking dogs through neighborhoods to driving a dog to Texas,” he said about the pivotal moment his business took a shift.

That realization spurred the formation of what would become the private pet transportation busi-

ness, Kingsdale Transport.

After working briefly for other transport companies, O’Donnell took a leap of faith and launched his own company to bring his commitment to safety and cleanliness to the pets he serves and the people who love them.

Kingsdale Transport ensures each animal travels safely and comfortably in climate-controlled vehicles outfitted with premium kennels. The company also partners with reputable providers to support global ground and air travel, offering services that include fresh food and water, playtime, medication administration, and accommodations for special needs.

“I named my business after our

Kingsdale Transport

family farm, Kingsdale,” O’Donnell said. He says his family-owned farm in Queen Anne’s County is where he developed his passion for animal care.

“It’s a place that means a great deal to me, and it comes with great

expectations, too,” he said. “Starting this business was about doing things the right way—clean, safe, and professional.”

Now operating from his base in Royal Oak, O’Donnell handles an average of 10 transports a month, moving dogs, cats, birds, and even the occasional aquarium across the country. Business booms from March through October, though he remains on call year-round.

“I just booked a job right before this interview,” he said, smiling. “Things are picking up more than I imagined.”

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But it’s not just about mileage or money. O’Donnell sees his work as a calling, shaped by faith and personal growth. He’s found a unique confidence in helping animals— and their humans—navigate oftenstressful transitions.

“Traveling doesn’t have to be a traumatic experience for our cats and dogs,” he said, noting that

Kingsdale Transport

most locals use his services for driving their pets down south over the winter months.

“Snowbirds,” he says, noting that he handles as many last minute reservations as he does for those booked two weeks or months in advance.

His clients regularly comment on the cleanliness of his transport setups and the steady stream of updates he provides during long hauls. It’s all part of his customerfirst mindset.

“People are trusting me with family members,” O’Donnell said. “I never forget that. I clean the vehicle every day, I send pictures throughout our travels, I talk to the pets—it’s about comfort and peace of mind.”

In a competitive industry filled

with large logistics companies, O’Donnell’s boutique approach stands out. He doesn’t aim to dominate the market, but to serve it well.

“I want to grow,” he said. “But I don’t want to lose the personal touch. I don’t want to be so big that I can’t send a message to my clients directly or give the animals the extra attention that they deserve.”

That philosophy has earned him contracts with national companies and referrals from coast to coast. Yet he remains firmly grounded in his Mid-Shore roots.

“The abundance of nature in this area keeps me centered,” O’Donnell said of the things that bring him joy. “I love kayaking in the rivers, hiking, and just being outdoors.”

Self-care is also a vital part of his ability to serve others. In a field where burnout is common, O’Donnell prioritizes rest and renewal.

“You can’t pour from an empty cup,” he said. “If I don’t take care of myself, I can’t give my best to these pets or their owners.”

Looking ahead, O’Donnell hopes to add a driver to Kingsdale Transport, but only someone who meets the high standards that have earned client trust.

“I would need to train another person to do it the Kingsdale way— safe, clean, kind,” he said. “Every pet deserves a smooth journey, and every owner deserves an earned trust.”

In the meantime, O’Donnell continues to crisscross the country in his pet-friendly vehicle, building a business one paw print at a time.

“Some people think it’s just driving dogs around,” he said. “But it’s

not. It’s about connecting lives. It’s about showing up with heart.”

If you’re looking to transport a pet, Ben O’Donnell and Kingsdale Transport represent what’s possible when passion meets purpose. You can connect with Ben at ben@ kingsdaletransport.com or call him at 443-262-5076.

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.

"Welcome to our Roadhouse Bar & Grill, where the open road meets mouthwatering flavors and good ol’ fashioned hospitality. In the heart of Preston, Caroline County, we are not just about great food; we’re about creating great memories" ~ Ian & Elinor Fleming Serving Lunch 11:30 a.m. - 2:30 p.m. ~ Mon through Sat inclusive Serving Dinner 4 p.m. - 8 p.m. ~ Tue through ur inclusive 4 p.m. - 8:30 p.m. ~ Fri and Sat 201 Main St., Preston, MD 667-342-4024 Reservations Recommended!

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.

Preparing for Fall

September in Maryland is a transitional month in the garden— cooler temperatures and shorter days signal the start of fall. Vacations are over, kids are back in school and we need to take advantage of the shortening daylight. However, there’s still plenty to plant and harvest. We can become rejuvenated to move back into the garden for some work. Here are some suggestions to help you max-

imize the potential of your garden this month.

An easy way to provide winter color indoors and get a jump on spring annual plantings is to do some easy propagation of select annuals. Root cuttings now from annual bedding plants such as begonias, coleus, geraniums, impatiens and fuchsia. These plants can be overwintered in a sunny window and provide plants for next year’s

garden. Bring hanging baskets or pots of begonias indoors for fall and winter. Return outdoors in spring.

I have seen a lot of caladiums in the landscape this year. They are an excellent warm-season plant to provide color to both the

flower bed and container plants on the deck. As the nights become cool, caladiums will begin to lose leaves. Dig them up, allow them to dry, and store them in a warm, dry place. This space can be replanted with Christmas peppers or Jerusalem cherry plants that are easy to grow from seed in pots or with mum transplants that have been grown to flower size.

It’s time to continue with fall crops in the vegetable garden. You can still seed beets, radishes, turnips and leaf lettuce. By the end of August, your herbs might look a little ratty. Keep them producing new foliage by removing flowers and seedpods from basil, mint, parsley, sage and thyme.

You can still try to plant trans -

Tidewater Gardening

plants of cabbage, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, collards and lettuce. In some years living on the Shore, we’ve had a mild fall and early winter, allowing me to cut broccoli from the garden on Christmas Day. It helps to have some clear plastic or Remay® handy to cover the plants if a hard frost is predicted. Cabbageworms can still be a problem, so have some BT insecticide available to spray or be prepared to hand-pick the worms.

Fall crops such as butternut and acorn squash, pumpkins and gourds can be harvested soon. To cure them for winter storage, you should leave them on the vine until the vine dies. Also, leave a small piece of stem attached to the fruit when harvesting. A stem cut off too close to the fruit will cause it to rot during storage.

Be sure to clean up the vegetable garden as you pull out spent plants. Removing the old, dead and dying plants will help reduce the overwintering stages of many plant

diseases and insect pests. After cleaning the garden, it is recommended that you add a soil testrecommended amount of lime and organic matter.

The final step is to protect the soil with a cover crop. Sowing cover crops in fall and turning them under in spring improves soil quality, boosts fertility and helps prevent winter erosion. The most useful cover crops are legumes, such as vetch and clover. These plants have nitrogen-fixing bacteria associated with their roots that take nitrogen from the air and convert it into a form usable by the plants.

If you had set some of your houseplants out for summer, now is the time to clean up plants and prepare to bring them back indoors before night temperatures fall below 55 degrees for the winter. Remove dead

Tidewater Gardening

leaves and stems, as well as any soil on the outside of the pot. Check for insects before bringing plants back in and remove any diseased leaves. Don’t forget to wash windows this fall so that houseplants placed nearby can have maximum sunlight over winter.

Check your herb garden and dig. Some herbs, such as parsley or sage, can be dug up, potted and used as houseplants over the winter.

Stop weekly feedings of Christmas cactus in September for re-bloom during the Christmas holidays. During October and November, maintain darkness for 15 hours each night in an environment with a temperature between 50 and 60 degrees. Water plants about twice a month. Some people have had success with leaving Christmas cactus outdoors for a few cool nights (around 40-50 degrees). The chill sets the buds, but they usually bloom before Christmas if you try this approach.

Disease and Fungal Control

Be sure to allow plants to finish the summer growth cycle in a usual manner. Avoid encouraging growth with heavy applications of fertilizer or excessive pruning at this time, as plants will quickly de-

lay their hardening process, which has already begun in anticipation of winter several months ahead. An early freeze can easily injure new growth.

I always remind gardeners at this time of year that when selecting flowering bulbs to plant this fall, consider that larger caliber bulbs produce big, showy displays but come at a higher cost. Smaller caliber bulbs usually are less expensive, with a smaller show, but are great for brightening nooks and crannies in your yard. When designing with bulbs, bright-colored flowers from spring-blooming bulbs can bring interest to a neutral setting in early spring. Set some in the rock garden or along-

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side a brick wall this fall. Many of the dwarf species available are ideal for this use.

As you plant your spring bulbs, remember that a mass planting of one flower type or color will produce a better effect than a mix-

ture of many colors. Spring bulb flowers stand out more vividly if displayed against a contrasting background. For example, white hyacinths among English ivy, yellow daffodils against a ‘Burford’ holly hedge or red tulips towering over a carpet of yellow pansies. If you can’t tell the bulb’s top, plant it sideways. The stem will always grow upright.

Make sure that you are familiar with the planting depth requirements of the bulb species and any special planting techniques. For example, soak bulbs of winter aconite in water for a few hours before planting. To prevent damage to bulbs from tunneling moles in your flower beds, buy some rat wire at

Tidewater Gardening

the local hardware store and make planting troughs of the material. Dig out the flower bed, place the rat wire cages into the bed, refill with the soil and plant the bulbs. Another technique to avoid damage from mice or other rodent pests is to plant the bulbs in cans. Remove both ends from large fruit juice cans. Bury the cans to their

rims. Fill about one-third full of soil, place one bulb in each and cover to the surface with soil.

Many spring bulb enthusiasts swear by bone meal for fertilizing their planting beds. The phosphorus in bone meal is inaccessible to plants until soil temperatures reach around 50°F. Bone meal might aid your bulbs late in the growing season, but it does not aid flowering appreciably. Soluble fertilizers containing phosphorus, such as 5-10-10 or 5-10-5, applied at planting time will provide nutrients for a better flower display in spring.

A wide variety of chrysanthe -

Tidewater Gardening

mum flower colors are available in the fall. Gardeners usually buy a few plants and set them on the front porch for some fall color. You may not be aware that mums can be transplanted while in bloom, which makes them useful for instant landscapes in early autumn. Water the plants thoroughly the day before (or at least several hours before) digging, retaining as much of the root system as possible. Create a new hole and gently loosen a small portion of soil from the surrounding area. Be sure to water thoroughly after placing the plants to settle them in. As with any transplanting, it is best to move

mums in early morning or late evening when temperatures are cool. Monitor plants for wilting over several days and provide shade during hot periods if needed.

Plant roots of both garden and tree peonies in September or early October so they will have time to become established in the soil before winter. Dig a hole 18 inches across and 18 inches deep for each tuber. Space the holes so that the plants will be at least 3 feet apart. Make sure the roots are buried only 1½ to 3 inches below ground level. Deeper planting keeps the plants from blooming.

Happy Gardening!

Marc Teffeau retired as Director of Research and Regulatory Affairs at

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 - The Early Years by

A.M. Foley

As this is written, ninety-twoyear-old Willie Nelson is on a lengthy tour from July to September. Best known as a songwriter and singer, the multi-layered folk hero has also produced and acted in films and authored over a dozen books, ranging from autobiography, fiction, and poetry to Willie and Annie Nelson’s Cannabis Cookbook . His most recent book is titled My Life: It’s a Long Story. Indeed it is. Before entering the field of music, his first paying gig

was picking a field of cotton, alongside his big sister Bobbie and their grandmother, Mama Nelson. His parents had married at sixteen. As young adults, they went their separate ways, leaving the youngsters with devoted paternal grandparents. Daddy and Mama Nelson reared Bobbie and Willie in a home steeped in love, music, and Methodism.

All the Protestant denominations in Abbott, Texas (population 400) held summer revivals in

man of few spoken words but a rich tenor voice. He and Mama both studied music and sang Gospel. Bobbie learned to play the family organ, replicating by ear hymns she heard. Hard times came when Daddy died in 1940 at 56 after a brief illness. Bobbie and Willie were nine and seven.

Willie says he “couldn’t have been more than eleven” when he first got a chance to play the guitar for money. He’d hooked on with John Rejcek’s fifteen-member Czechoslovakian polka band. They played a Catholic church hall, where beer and dancing were permissible. Afterwards, he confessed the lapse to Mama. He assured her he wasn’t indulging and

gave her the pay she sorely needed. Her disapproval was clear, but no more was said about his venue choices. Picking polkas for one night equaled a week in the cotton field. Too young to be allowed in most venues, he stood “way in the back of the band,” behind fiddlers, drummer, trumpet, and tuba, where “club owners didn’t seem to care.” From there he enjoyed

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/.

watching “folks dancing their polkas and waltzing their troubles away.”

Considering what it took in his early years to make ends meet, he might title his next book Been There—Done That. In the first half of his lifetime, he baled hay, ginned cotton, shelled corn, worked in a grain elevator, pumped gas, trimmed trees, joined the Air Force, taught Sunday School, sewed saddles, washed dishes, assisted a plumber, peddled encyclopedias and Kirby vacuum cleaners, taught guitar, spun records as a radio DJ and sold some publishing rights to his songs for $10. The first to receive any notice was “Family Bible,” which surely warmed Mama’s heart. Before “Family Bible” reached Number One, he had sold its rights for $50 to pay his rent. As Bobbie said, “He’d go to any length to keep writing and performing.”

As a high school senior, Bobbie had married an aspiring promoter, who formed Bud Fletcher and the Texans. He included Willie, at the time a sophomore with his own book of a dozen original songs. Despite Fletcher’s glibness, his Texans faced a hardscrabble existence. At the end of one night, playing for the take at the door, divided among six, Willie took home 37 cents. He relates in his autobiography, “We played…every beer joint in Texas at least once.” Meanwhile, war was raging in Korea. After five years touring with the band, he reached an age to be drafted into the Army. Envisioning himself a fighter pilot, Willie joined the Air Force instead. If the pilot thing didn’t materialize, maybe the Air Force would post him in Europe. In Paris he might meet his “guitar hero,” Django Reinhardt. Veterans who’d served in Europe’s prior war had introduced him to the Belgian’s recordings. As a youth, the Gypsy guitarist had suffered severe burns in a caravan fire, forcing him into a style accommodating paralysis in two left hand fingers. Willie was moved by the breadth and soul of his idol’s art. He considered Django “the greatest guitar player who ever lived…. No other musician had a greater influence on me.”

Alas, the two guitarists never met. The Air Force sent Willie no farther than Biloxi. After quickly earning a promotion and demotion

Willie

Bud Fletcher & the Texans, with the Nelsons at left.

within the same 24-hour period, he wrenched his back as a shipping clerk lifting boxes of supplies. Given a choice, rather than submit to major back surgery, he opted for discharge to civilian life.

Next stint as a Sunday School teacher was more characteristic of him than the military, but again he ran afoul of an officer—this time the church pastor. A freshly baptized Willie spent enjoyable weeks teaching and learning from his class, until the preacher happened to ask his line of work. This led to a theological disagreement on God’s presence in—or absence from— honky-tonks. From his experience, Willie felt God’s presence everywhere and in all kinds of places.

Willie

Willie wandered from Texas to Washington State, hooking on with innumerable bands. In 1950s Dallas-Fort Worth, he played with a Mexican Band that “had me singing jazz songs…” Black musicians came to Gray’s Bar to jam with them, bringing “spontaneity and expertise. I learned to go with the flow.” When Ray Price was short a man, he asked Willie if he could play bass. Willie said, “Hell, can’t everybody?” He never had, but he went on tour as the Cherokee Cowboys’ bassist. If not a bassist, at least he truly was Cherokee on his mother’s side. In Houston around 1960, Willie was feeling especially

down: broke, separated from wife and family and weary of chasing gigs that would allow him to sing and play guitar. He found solace in his depression by writing.

Brightwork that shines

After a couple more dreary weeks of Houston, he turned up at Bobbie’s house in Fort Worth with a fi stful of new songs and an uncharacteristic lack of self-confidence. He wasn’t sure about the songs he’d written. He told her, “They just started falling down on me like stars from the sky.” With Bobbie at the piano, they started testing out those new songs: “Night Life,” “Crazy,” “Funny How Time Slips Away,” “Gotta Get Drunk,” “The Party’s Over.” An incredulous Bobbie asked how long it took to write them. “A week or two.” After another run through each song, they stared at each other— teary eyed—reassured the songs were indeed that good.

Willie felt confident enough to launch his ’50 Buick for Nashville. On reaching Music Row, he found the tide running against him. Before long, he was back at a job he loathed: selling encyclopedias to people who couldn’t afford them. His writing found some Establishment acceptance, but not his interpretations. His voice was too sparse, too rough. After being told “Night Life” was too much Blues and not enough Country, he sold its publishing rights for $150. Then Faron Young recorded “Hello Walls,” one Willie wrote from a

brief stint as a nine-to-five tunesmith, sitting in an office waiting for another song to fall from the sky: “Hello walls…hello window… hello ceiling…” Willie was so broke he offered Young publishing rights to “Hello Walls” for $500. The singer, expecting a hit, instead lent Willie the $500 he needed. Within two months, “Hello Walls” hit Number One and Willie received his first royalty check, $3,000. He could rent a trailer for $25 a week and send for his wife and kids. Looking to repay the loan, he found Faron Young at a popular bar. In his biography Young describes, “I was sitting at Tootsie’s when this big hairy arm came around my neck, and Willie French-kissed me…”

Willie to the right of Ray Price with sunglasses (Ray Price and the Cherokee Cowboys).

At the time, corporate wisdom required “Countrypolitan” productions aimed at crossover sales. That wasn’t Willie. An executive,

Tidewater Residential Designs since 1989

Willie lie’s kitchen.” Before exposing the public to it, they hastily arranged a press listening session at a popular Nashville spot. Willie’s rendition of “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” brought the club crowd to their feet in a standing ovation. A 42-year-old star was born. One record executive admitted, “Nobody was more shocked than we were.”

describing the fi xation on “bells and whistles,” said Willie’s “wasn’t the way you went about making a record in Nashville in those days.” Nevertheless, with his growing history of penning hits, in 1975 Columbia offered Willie a contract giving him creative control over his work. With a production allotment of $60,000, Willie found an obscure Texas studio and spent $2,000 cutting an album of personal favorites with musicians of his choosing. Columbia suits mistook it for a demo. Willie stood fi rm on his creative right, but they were leery of releasing something they thought “sounds like it was recorded in Wil-

Willie Nelson and Faron Young

Willie bought himself a spread outside Nashville, big enough to accommodate various factions of his own and his maternal and paternal families, living harmoniously, either together or at some safe distance. When the main house burned down, Willie rescued his guitar, Trigger, and returned to Texas. In a farewell to “Mr. Music Executive,” he penned another hit and titled it “Write Your Own Songs.”

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.

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Cooking with Local Fall Vegetables

As the weather cools and nature starts to wind down, fall vegetables offer some of the most rich and comforting flavors of the year. From earthy root vegetables to sweet squashes and hearty greens, these ingredients not only fill your kitchen with warmth but also nourish you from the inside out. Wheth-

er you’re strolling through a local farmers market or harvesting from your own garden, fall veggies like sweet potatoes, beets, pumpkins, Brussels sprouts and kale are perfect for creating meals that are both rustic and refined.

These dishes are designed to capture the essence of fall while bring-

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ing out the best in local, seasonal vegetables. Whether you’re roasting, sautéing or creating hearty soups, there’s no better way to enjoy the bounty of autumn than through these vibrant, comforting meals.

Here are five fall-inspired recipes using locally sourced vegetables:

Roasted Root Vegetable Medley

2 large carrots, peeled and cut into chunks

1 large parsnip, peeled and cut into chunks

1 medium sweet potato, peeled and cut into chunks

1 medium beet, peeled and cut into chunks

2 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

1 tsp. oregano

1 tsp. rosemary

Himalayan salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Preheat your oven to 400°F. In a large bowl, cut the vegetables into bite-size pieces and toss with olive oil, oregano, rosemary, salt and pepper until well coated. Spread the vegetables in a single layer on a baking sheet.

Roast for 35–40 minutes, or until the vegetables are tender and caramelized, stirring halfway through. Serve hot as a side dish or on a bed of quinoa or your favorite wild rice for a complete meal.

Creamy

Butternut Squash Soup

1 medium butternut squash, peeled and diced

1 onion, chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

4 cups vegetable broth

½ cup coconut milk (or grass-fed heavy cream)

1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

½ tsp. ground cinnamon

Himalayan salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

In a large pot, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and sauté until softened (about 5 minutes). Add the diced butternut squash, cinnamon, salt and pepper. Stir to combine.

Pour in the vegetable broth, bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 20 minutes or until the squash is tender. Use an immersion blender (or regular blender) to puree the soup until smooth.

Stir in the coconut milk and adjust seasoning as needed. Serve warm with a drizzle of cream and toasted seeds on top.

Brussels Sprout and Apple Salad

1 lb. Brussels sprouts, trimmed and sliced thinly

1 apple (such as Honeycrisp), thinly sliced

¼ cup walnuts, toasted

2 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

1 tbsp. apple cider vinegar

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

Himalayan salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

In a large bowl, combine the sliced Brussels sprouts and apple slices.

In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, apple cider vinegar, Dijon mustard, salt and pepper to make a dressing. Pour the dressing over the Brussels sprout mixture and toss to coat evenly. Sprinkle the toasted walnuts on top and serve immediately for a crunchy, tangy fall salad.

Stuffed Acorn Squash

2 acorn squashes, halved and seed-

www.piazzaitalianmarket.com

Tidewater Kitchen ed

½ cup quinoa, wild rice or farro, cooked

½ cup cranberries, dried or fresh

¼ cup pecans, chopped

1 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

½ tsp. ground cinnamon

Himalayan salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Fresh parsley for garnish

Preheat your oven to 375°F. Place the squash halves on a baking sheet, cut side up. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with cinnamon, salt and pepper. Roast for 30-40 minutes, or until the squash is tender. While the squash roasts, prepare the quinoa and toss with cranberries and chopped pecans. Once the

squash is done, spoon the quinoa mixture into each squash half. Garnish with fresh parsley and serve as a hearty vegetarian main or a festive side dish.

Kale and Sweet Potato Frittata

1 medium sweet potato, peeled and diced into bite-size pieces

2 cups kale, chopped, bite-size pieces (stems removed)

6 large eggs (farm fresh are my favorite)

½ cup grated or crumbled cheese (cheddar, feta, or goat cheese)

1 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

Himalayan salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Preheat your oven to 375°F. In a

cast-iron skillet or oven-safe pan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add the diced sweet potato and cook until softened, about 8–10 minutes. Add the chopped kale and cook until wilted, about 3–5 minutes. In a bowl, whisk the eggs with

Tidewater Kitchen

salt, pepper and cheese. Pour the mixture over the sweet potato and kale in the skillet. Cook on the stovetop for about 2 minutes until the edges begin to set, then transfer the skillet to the oven.

Bake for 10–15 minutes, or until the eggs are fully set and the top is golden brown. Slice and serve warm with a side salad or toasted homemade favorite sourdough bread or a yummy from the farmers market.

A sheet pan breakfast cake is a delicious and easy way to make a large batch of breakfast treats or even as a snack or dessert that can

be served to a crowd. It’s great for busy mornings, gatherings or even for meal prepping. This sheet pan cake is simple to make especially when you need something that’s easy to portion out. Enjoy!

Sheet Pan Cake

2 cups organic all-purpose flour or your favorite flour—almond, spelt or einkorn

1 cup evaporated cane sugar

2 tsp. baking powder

½ tsp. baking soda

½ tsp. Himalayan salt

1 tsp. ground cinnamon (optional, for added flavor)

¾ cup buttermilk (or milk if you don’t have buttermilk)

½ cup grass-fed unsalted butter,

Tidewater Kitchen

melted

2 large farm-fresh eggs

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 cup organic sour cream (for moisture)

½ cup fruit (any berries, cranberries, or small bite size pieces apples—optional)

Powdered sugar (for dusting, optional)

Preheat the oven to 350°F and grease a sheet pan (around 9x13 inches) with butter or non-stick spray. I love to line it with parchment paper for easy cleanup.

Mix dry ingredients: In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda,

salt and cinnamon (if using).

Combine wet ingredients: In a separate bowl, beat the eggs, then add the buttermilk, melted butter, vanilla extract and sour cream. Mix until well combined.

Combine wet and dry ingredients: Gradually pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir until just combined. Be careful not to overmix.

Add fruit (optional): If you’re using fruit, fold it into the batter gently, being careful not to break it up too much.

Bake: Pour the batter into the prepared sheet pan and spread it evenly. Bake for about 30–35 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted

Tidewater Kitchen

in the center comes out clean and the top is lightly golden brown.

Cool and serve: Let the cake cool in the pan for about 10 minutes before cutting it into squares. Dust with powdered sugar if desired before serving.

Optional Add-ins:

Nuts: Walnuts, pecans or almonds would be a great addition to the batter for some crunch.

Chocolate Chips: If you’re craving something sweet, you can stir in some chocolate chips.

Spices: A dash of nutmeg or cardamom can add extra warmth to the flavor.

Serving Ideas:

Serve the breakfast cake with fresh fruit or yogurt on the side for a balanced breakfast. You can also drizzle it with maple syrup for an extra indulgent treat!

This can also be served as a delicious dessert with your favorite grass-fed milk, cream or nondairy.

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.

The Book on Jim Dawson

Trappe’s ‘official unofficial’ historian marks 50 years as a bookseller, writer, and curator of local lore by

Zach Taylor

Turns out young people do still read books.

One balmy afternoon early in July, a young man approached the counter of the Unicorn Book Shop in Trappe holding a stack of worn paperbacks bearing a satisfied smile. His worn baseball cap and

flannel shirt, despite the summer heat, were vintage Eastern Shore, while his long hair, baby face under a scruffy beard, and earring equally conveyed his status as Gen Z.

“I’ve never seen this one before,” he told the shop’s proprietor Jim Dawson, waving a tattered paper -

only 200 copies

Unicorn Bookshop owner Jim Dawson displays the title page of Maryland Etchings by Don Swann from 1939, one of

printed.

The Book on Jim

back copy of Tarzan the Terrible. “I’ve read most of the others in the series at least once.”

Interest from a rural twentysomething in the original serialized pulp-fiction tales by Edgar Rice

Burroughs of Tarzan, the lost boy raised by apes in the African jungle, which was all the rage in the 1930s?

“Oh sure, we still get customers of all ages,” Dawson said. “You’d be surprised what still appeals to people.”

Were it not for shops like Dawson’s, such obscure literary treasures just wouldn’t be available anymore. Nor would the thrill of the hunt, the search up and down rows while bent at odd angles between cramped shelves – and the thrill of finding a longed-for volume at a great price.

Dawson should know about books and the people who read them. In June, the business quietly surpassed 50 years since he and

The Book on Jim

his friend Ken Callahan opened up the bookshop at its first location in Easton. Since then, the shop has steadily evolved in a haven for bibliophiles, a living archive of stories, histories, and serendipitous finds.

The bookshop moved once more in Easton before settling into its current home in Trappe, so close to Route 50 you feel the breeze from passing cars, in 1983, two years after Callahan bowed out and moved to New England to try his hand at catalogs.

The Unicorn building is a story in itself, a former soda shop and later a bank built in the 1950s, with its famous crooked walls, perhaps rendered so by workmen paid in beer for their labor. For a few years,

Dawson shared space with Union Trust Bank.

Visitors lucky enough to be in the shop at the top of the hour are treated to a symphony of clocks chiming from all corners of the store. These are part of Dawson’s personal collection, including an 1870s Welch Spring & Company piece, and are not strictly speaking for sale, though he has gotten a few offers

The Book on Jim

he couldn’t refuse over the years. “They go with the aesthetic of the place,” he says.

Now, as Unicorn celebrates its golden anniversary, Dawson, who quips he is Trappe’s “official unofficial historian,” remains the heart of this literary landmark, singlehandedly curating nearly 30,000 volumes that include the most extensive collection of works capturing the Shore’s rich historical tapestry.

The wealth of resources at Uni -

corn has led it to become a resource for authors researching the history of the Shore, were fodder for Dawson’s old columns for the Journal of Antiques and Collectibles , not to mention his monthly pieces for these Tidewater Times –his most recent article on the 1935 inauguration of the original bridge over the Choptank at Cambridge is fascinating.

To be sure, the shop continues to be a bibliophile’s wonderland. Its shelves brim with rare treasures: a volume by Francis Bacon from 1674,

Jim Dawson displays a 1957 printing of a Tilghman Packing Company map that points out locations of various historical incidents in Eastern Shore history.

The

a 1939 set of Don Swann’s Maryland etchings (one of only 200 copies printed), and signed works by the likes of James Michener, Muhammad Ali, and Jimmy Carter.

Pricing, he explained, is an art form, a combination of experience and gut feelings. He occasionally buys rare items he can’t resist but knows aren’t right for the shop, and sends them to big-city auctions. Overall, though, selling books online brings about too many hassles to take up a lot of Dawson’s time.

In the nonfiction section, Maryland and Eastern Shore history dominates, alongside World War II, fishing, gardening, African American and Native American history, travel, and photography.

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The Book on Jim

“I try to carry a little bit of everything,” Dawson says. He determines what to buy by a well-honed instinct of what will sell, not what he likes himself. “My books are at home. These are for the public.”

Beyond the shop’s vast offerings, Dawson has his own literary passions. Among his personal favorites is the work of Gilbert Byron, known as the Thoreau of the Chesapeake for living close to nature in a cabin he built himself on Old House Cove near St. Michaels, his base for chronicling Shore life through his poetry and prose for 45 years.

Dawson became personal friends with Byron after he visited the shop, and cites his work The Lord’s Oysters (the best-ever book on the Eastern Shore, he says). Ultimately Dawson published several volumes of Byron’s work after commercial publishers passed on them. “I didn’t know what I was doing, but I did it anyway, since I didn’t know I couldn’t do it,” Dawson quipped when recalling his foray into publishing. “Kind of like when Ken and I started the bookstore.”

Unicorn’s allure lies in the serendipity of a somewhat haphazardly acquired inventory. Dawson doesn’t catalog it with a spreadsheet, instead relying on a memory for titles honed over the decades. When a customer asks for a certain book, he can often recall whether or not it lurks among the stacks, even if he acquired it years ago.

Indeed, the randomness of the search is what make prowling around Unicorn fun in a way that a corporate chain store could never be. When he goes into one from time to time, he sees little imagination or originality, and invariably high prices.

“Those stores have their place, but a lot of time new customers come into my place, look around and say, “Thank God, a real bookstore.”

Dawson revels in such feedback, which sometimes comes from far afield. Just recently, he received

The Book on Jim

an email from a customer from Heidelberg, Germany who stopped in on the way to a beach weekend during a visit and snagged a copy of Jacob Bronowski’s the Ascent of Man, the rare print companion to the author’s famous 1973 BBC-TV miniseries tracing human progress through science.

“He told me how much he loved it, and that he never thought he would ever find the book version. That’s what keeps this place alive . . . You never know what someone will discover.”

The shop’s artifacts are as storied as its books. A nickel-plated National cash register from the late 19th century has a hard marble edge, once used to detect counterfeit coins. Dawson demonstrates the clear ring of a real quarter, unlike the muted sound of a fake one.

Venturing upstairs, map-loving customers can feast on the likes of a 1947 Tilghman Packing Company map, which locates vignettes from Maryland’s history, like where the notorious Patty Cannon committed her crimes, or that fact that William Penn preached at Easton’s Third Haven meeting house in 1682.

Dawson’s acquisition process is equal parts instinct and expertise. He sources books from estate sales, house calls, and donations, often uncovering gems in unexpected places. At a recent sale, a first-edi-

tion Hemingway surfaced in a box of outdated travel guides, selling within days. He tends to avoid coffee table books.

“They’re big, heavy, and take up space,” he says. “Unless they have unique appeal. Which isn’t too often.”

Unicorn’s customers are as eclectic as its inventory. Locals, like our Gen Z Tarzan buff, comb the vast paperback section, while collectors travel long distances to hunt valuable rarities. Travelers on Route 50 arrive spontaneously, or make the inevitable pilgrimage after passing the distinctive sign time and again. “I hear ‘I’ve driven by for years’ all the time.” Many become loyal regulars.

Dawson’s role extends beyond bookseller to Trappe’s historian, though he studied English, not history, and Salisbury State, and picked up history as a hobby, and has become a go-to for historians

like Dickson J. Preston, a former Scripps-Howard newspaper reporter who retired to Talbot.

In Preston’s celebrated work about Frederick Douglass, he was able to reveal his birth date as February 14,1818 based on research from the archives of the Lloyd family, owners of the young Douglass, who never knew the exact day during his lifetime.

Dawson worked with Preston on his book Trappe: The Story of an Old-Fashioned Town, published in 1976 by the Trappe Bicentennial Committee. His input helped Preston chronicle the history of Trappe’s development, key figures, and cultural context.

One item he provided Preston, based on a clip from the Star Democrat, was a story from 1928 when it supposedly rained frogs in Trappe. Some residents swore it actually happened, and other people said no, the frogs just came from a local pond.

“Witnesses swore both ways that it did happen or didn’t happen, though it is meteorologically pos-

sible,” he deadpans. “A waterspout or something similar can suck up things and drop them down again.”

Dawson also recalls that as a young boy, he used to see Trappe native Frank “Home Run” Baker, hero of the 1911 World Series, rocking on his front porch in retirement. It was a shame, he said, that he was one of the few kids of his age in that era who didn’t care much about baseball.

So, what about the future? Dawson says that through it all, business has been steady, and last year yielded the highest receipts in a decade. He has no plans to retire.

“Sometimes not doing what everybody else in the world is doing can be to your advantage,” he says. “And if it turns out I’m the last second-hand bookshop in the country, well, that’s pretty good for me. I’d be even more unique.”

Zach Taylor is a freelance journalist who grew up in Easton and is back in the area after an overseas career as a USAID comms officer.

Chesapeake Film Festival

Upcoming

Highlights

The Chesapeake Film Festival (“CFF”) announced highlights of its 2025 lineup of local and international films, including the Maryland premieres of stand-out feature-length and short films. The new highlights follow the Festival’s recent announcement of its Opening Film, Loving Vincent, the world’s first animated fully painted feature film. The Oscar-nominated selection was created by a team of 125 artists from around the world. The Festival is Oct. 10–12 in downtown Easton.

Maryland Premiers will include the delightful new feature romantic comedy The Other You, directed by Shoshana Rosenbaum, an awardwinning Washington, DC-based filmmaker and screenwriter. Her first feature-length production follows a writer, wife and mother who discovers a tiny door in her closet that leads to another version of her life.

Other Maryland Short Film

Premiers include Now What?, a hilarious comedy directed by Maria Burton about a tightly wound 15-year-old daughter of diplomats who is shipped stateside to attend school and live with her largerthan-life bohemian grandmother. The director has been named by

and Key Dates

Variety as “talent to watch,” and has directed several successful independent feature films.

The Chesapeake Film Festival lineup highlights also include:

• Invasion ’53 from director Danielle Weinberg. A man-eating alien crashes a suburban cocktail party (USA).

• Just Be Awesome, an amusing new comedy about a trendy creative agency and a freelance writer desperate for work (United Kingdom).

• Now What? A tightly wound 15-year-old daughter of diplomats is shipped stateside to attend a proper school, but living with her largerthan-life bohemian grandmother might be her biggest challenge!

• Spirit of Place, an exciting and whimsical short film directed by Jack Cooper Stimpson, a celebrated writer, director and environmental campaigner from South London. (United Kingdom).

• The Pearl Comb, an awardwinning film directed by Ali Cook (United Kingdom), about a mermaid with unearthly powers (United Kingdom).

• The Reach, from Italian director Luca Caserta, a poignant journey through memory, love and life’s final transition as told through the eyes of an elderly woman (Italy).

Check out the full Chesapeake Film Festival program online at chesapeakefilmfestival.com. Tickets for all films go on sale this month.

Save your seat and save money by purchasing early-bird tickets. Enjoy 17% off the standard $150 ticket price and guarantee yourself a seat at the Festival’s top screenings at the Ebenezer Theater, the Academy Art Museum and the Talbot County Free Library. Tickets sold out online for the 2024 festival almost a month prior to opening night, so don’t hesitate to reserve your spot today.

Upcoming Highlights & Key Dates

• September 13: WYETH – 2 p.m. Talbot County Free Library – free and open to the public

• October 10 – noon – Opening Film – Loving Vincent, Ebenezer Theater

• October 10 to 12 – Chesapeake Film Festival – Ebenezer Theater, Academy Art Museum and Talbot County Free Library

Cid Collins Walker, executive and artistic director of CFF, also announced that extraordinarily generous contributions from local benefactors and businesses this year is an endorsement of the growing legacy of the Festival on the Eastern Shore. “We couldn’t

be more thankful and proud of the growing local support we’ve been receiving this year, which has surpassed all previous seasons. It is a testament to the Festival’s continued recognition as a mainstay of the region’s cultural calendar.”

CFF programming is brought to you by our generous sponsors: the Shared Earth Foundation, The Nature Conservancy, Maryland State Arts Council, Talbot Arts, Maryland Humanities Council, The Artistic Insights Fund, Maxine Millar, Richard and Beverly Tilghman, Talbot County Free Library, The William Lucks Professional Group powered by Keller Williams Realty, Laser Letters and by generous patrons like you.

Patty Cannon’s Ghosts

by James Dawson

Hal Roth, in his The Monster’s Handsome Face, Patty Cannon in Fiction and Fact, reported that this rhyme was once heard on the streets in Sussex County, Del.:

“Old Patty Cannon is dead and gone. Can’t you hear the devil draggin’ her along.”

With all the terrible things said to have happened in the Johnson/ Cannon tavern at the crossroads at Reliance, Md., when it was the headquarters of the Patty Cannon kidnapping gang in the early 1800s, one might expect the house to be packed with ghosts. But that does not seem to have been the case.

Well, for most of the time, that is—as we will see.

In fact, the first sighting of Patty Cannon’s ghost was in 1879, when a Philadelphia newspaper reported that “Johnson’s Cross-roads, Sussex, has been frightened out of its wits by the appearance in the streets of the village by the ghost of

Patty Cannon, the negro-stealer of bygone days” [Philadelphia Times (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) Mar. 24, 1879].

Johnson’s Cross Roads, where three counties and two states meet, is now Reliance, Md., and Reliance, Del., as it straddles the line. The name was changed in the 1880s as the area got religion, when a Methodist church was built nearby, and so presumably it was thought that a place named for a noted kidnapper and murderer was no longer proper. But there was no denying that the old tavern had a certain reputation.

J.H.K. Shannahan wrote in 1907:

“I have been told that some years ago, a young attorney of Baltimore was visiting near the old tavern and was dared to spend the night in it. The forfeit being posted, the young man went to the house, made

Cannon's Ghosts

himself a bed on the floor and went to sleep. He was awakened and towards midnight by the sound of a chain dragging across the floor. Having an easy conscience, he struck a light and instigated a search which revealed the presence of a dog, which had broken loose from his kennel and had wandered into the house, dragging his chain after him. Being wide awake, the young man determined to find the mysterious [attic] chamber. The location of which so long defied detection, finally locating its entrance from a closet with a false door.”

Meantime, several belated travelers, seeing lights in the old house, fled to Seaford, swearing that Patty Cannon had come back. But he added, “The house is not haunted, far from it. But has been remodeled and is now occupied by Mr. James M. Smith and family, to whom I am indebted for much of this narrative” [ Tales of Old Maryland by J.H.K. Shannahan, Jr., Baltimore, 1907; p. 75]. That episode might have inspired the Patty Cannon ghost scare of 1879 mentioned above.

Yet not everyone took it seriously. When the old tavern was remodeled into a house, an 1885 newspaper article reported rather waggishly that...

“It is said that the bricks which formed the chimneys to the house in which the infamous Patty Cannon lived and concocted so much deviltry, are now being sold to relic-hunters at the high price of twenty-five cents per brick. The house sometime ago was repaired and the old-fashioned chimneys with their mammoth fire-places were torn down and the bricks were used in other masonry. So only a very limited supply of the genuine Patty Cannon brick remains for relic-hunters. But a brick-kiln is soon to be established here, and its owner and the owner of the Patty Cannon property can make arrangements between themselves to furnish for a quarter apiece, everybody in the land with a brick taken from the very centre of old Patty’s big fire-place [The Morning News (Wilmington, Delaware) Wed. Jul. 29, 1885].

There was supposed to be buried treasure on the property, too but if so, no one ever found it, despite digging.

Clara Smith, daughter of A. Hill Smith, whose family owned the tavern from 1895 to 1968, grew up in the house and never saw

any ghosts. Neither did her father, who had lived there 70 years. But she remembered that in the 1920s people used to stop in on Sunday afternoons, sometimes as many as six or eight an hour to see the place, and that it got so bad that her mother, who wasn’t going to be a tour guide, packed up the kids and went riding just to get away.

However, James Good, who owned the house from 1977 to 1981, said that he and his family were clairvoyant and saw ghosts everywhere. His wife remembered that she could feel the evilness of it the first time she stepped inside. And Good said that one night, his bed shook, and he heard moaning, chains dragging and a ghostly voice

from the attic screaming, “Have mercy, have mercy.” He always had a feeling that he was being watched by unseen eyes.

One twilight when he was outside planting flowers, he asked his son to turn on a light in the house. Suddenly the light started blinking faster and faster, and the son, who had just learned Morse code, realized that it was blinking out the message “Help me; help me Patty Cannon.” He said that the light bulb was not loose. No clue how Patty Cannon’s ghost knew Morse code, which was not invented until several years after her death. Yet another Patty Cannon mystery.

The closet door in the boys’ room was nailed shut because they said

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Cannon's Ghosts

a big, hairy black monster with red eyes was inside, and one of the boys had seen a giant green frog sitting on the steps.

A spiritualist refused to enter the house, stating from a safe distance across the street that it was evil. The owner had a minister lined up to do an exorcism to clear out the house, but the minister cancelled at the last minute because a spirit had appeared to him warning, “You’re not coming in my house!”

That could have been Patty Cannon, and one might suspect that the red eyed monster in the closet and the big frog on the steps could be the tortured souls of Patty

Cannon’s henchmen, Joseph and Ebenezer Johnson, but that is pure speculation.

Good sold tickets for house tours at one dollar each or 50 cents for children. Two upstairs bedrooms were named the torture room (the boys’ room) and the killing room (their daughter’s room). Presumably no one was disappointed that the house did not have bloodstained walls because except for the recreation of the dungeon in the

attic, it was a nice tour, through a pleasant house furnished with antiques that were for sale, as he was an interior decorator.

Access to the attic was still by an eight-foot ladder through a small trap door in the ceiling of one of the second-floor bedrooms, but the entrance was no longer hidden behind a false door in a closet. Up where Cannon had chained and shackled her kidnapped captives, there were two mannequins chained to the ceiling and walls, leg irons dangling from the rafters, straw beds and other props.

Then visitors could descend to the second floor killing room/gift shop and purchase items such as a china Patty Cannon house plate for $6.00 and copies of the booklet, “An Illustrated Version of the Life and Death of the ‘Wretched’ Patty Cannon” which was the text of the 1841 Narrative and Confessions of Lucretia P. Cannon, The Female Murderer newly illustrated with great drawings by Daniel G. Coston, Jr. for $3.00 each. Coston also il -

lustrated a Cannon house brochure and the admission tickets.

Local newspapers picked up the story with “Patty Cannon, Terrorizer of the Eastern Shore” in the June 6, 1979 Salisbury Advertiser, which had a photo of the mannequin in the attic and “Notorious Patty Cannon Still Haunts Her Home” in the Sept. 26, 1980 Salisbury Daily Times that detailed some of the ghostly sightings and included a photo of the museum room with framed copies of Coston’s drawings on the wall, the collector plates plus artifacts that had been found under the house and in the yard. The tours were popular, and on a good afternoon, the Goods would make several hundred dollars.

However, some of the neighbors did not believe in the ghosts and were suspicious that Good had conjured them up to help his tour guide business. But in his defense, Good said that the income went for the upkeep of the house and stated that he would not have said anything that was not true and that the ghosts actually hurt his business, and fur -

thermore he did not even know who Patty Cannon was when he bought the house.

John and Rosalee Messick bought

the house in 1982 because John thought the house was interesting. Rose said that there was only one former resident that claimed they saw ghosts and that they never saw any. The Messicks cleared out the mannequins and torture ephemera from the attic and don’t give house tours. That said, the place still has a

Tidewater Times December 2025 Christmas Cover Contest

Rules and Image Criteria:

◆ Image must pertain have a Winter/Christmas Theme

◆ Portrait/Vertical Orientation

◆ Room at the top for the Name and Date (Tidewater Times · Dec. 2025)

◆ Deadline for Submission is October 20th to info@tidewatertimes with high res photo and “Christmas Cover Contest” in the subject line.

Tidewater Times December 2021

Cannon's Ghosts

certain reputation, and Rose remembered that when they moved in, a decorator from Seaford refused to come to hang curtains when she found what house it was, and neighborhood children would not come to play with her children when they

found out where they lived.

But today, as I can attest by my recent visit there, it is a pleasant and sunny house, ghost and monster free, with no apparitions or voices either downstairs, upstairs or in the attic that I could see or hear.

I was there by special invitation and brought my own ladder. Rose was a gracious and generous host and was kind enough to gift me with the last Patty Cannon collector plate in the house. But, no, she didn’t have any of the bricks, either genuine or one of the old fakes.

James Dawson is the owner of Unicorn Bookshop in Trappe.

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All Quiet on the Sound A novel by

B. P. Gallagher

Chapter 25: Loose Lipped and Wagging Tongued

Earl and Leon wended and wound through the trees and underbrush that snarled the riverbank, keeping far from sight of the road. Along the way, Earl brought his brother up to speed as best he could. By the time they reached the Marylou, Earl had laid out a rough plan. Plan being a generous descriptor. It was closer to a hoped-for alignment of disparate information and manufactured evidence. A not-so-carefully curated

conclusion which hinged on prayers that the investigators would be creative enough to “correctly” interpret the facts as arranged. Without doubt a flimsy scaffolding to hang their futures on. But better than nothing, he hoped.

“In the Geezer’s car, you say? Damn…” Leon blew air between his teeth. “But that’s gonna make ‘em think—”

“Right! And if they haven’t already, then once they dredge up that toolbox…”

“Oh man.” Leon didn’t sound half

so enthused as Earl had anticipated. “We’re just gonna let ‘em think that about him, though? I mean, I didn’t always get along with the old-timer, but I didn’t hate him neither. And what’s Clara gonna say? That’s her Pop Pop you’re talkin’ about implicating.”

Earl felt a touch forlorn at the lackluster response to the plan, but pressed ahead. “Judging by what Jonah Everett says, he’s already in contention as a prime suspect! The man’s dead, Leon, what’s he care? Didn’t you hear what he said in his letter? The damn thing’s written like a confession, and leaving that pistol with it weren’t no accident, neither! He’s practically begging us to pin it on him, for Chrissake!”

“I don’t know, Earl. You’re doin’ a helluva job reading between the lines.”

“It’s a gift, Leon, dontcha see? Or a form of insurance, at least. As much as leaving us the Marylou, it’s his way of makin’ sure Clara’s taken care of long after he’s gone—which we can’t do if we’re locked up on murder charges!”

“And what if we get off but Clara never wants nothin’ to do with me again? Can’t do much for her then, neither.”

“That ain’t gonna happen, cos I’m gonna take the blame with Clara if it comes to that. You didn’t know what I was up to planting evidence—hell,

that was the whole point of leavin’ you in the dark!”

“I don’t know. Dragging a dead man’s good name like that who can’t defend himself…it ain’t no small thing.”

Once more Earl found himself exasperated by his siblings’ inscrutable ethical boundaries, the strange hills they were prepared to die upon in this venture. After everything that had transpired, everything they’d already done, this was Leon’s sticking point? “I don’t see what’s the problem, brother. I mean, for all Clara knows, the old man did kill the sumbitch! Hell, she might even thank him for it if she believed he did it on her account!”

Leon was adamant. “But he didn’t. And I wouldn’t underestimate Clara, neither. She knows more’n you think.”

Earl frowned. The words were strikingly similar to what Maggie had said about Clara. And after his personal encounter with her the other night, he had to wonder… Just how many secrets had they all been keeping from one another, and to what ends?

His exchange with Leon left him shaken and disconcerted, where before he’d achieved a frayed optimism. But they neared the creek where he’d left the others, so he let the matter drop for now.

The splintered pier was abandoned. Where were they? Over an hour had passed since he debarked,

more than enough time for a litany of misfortunes to befall Maggie and company. Earl’s unhelpful imagination sifted through the worst of these in a panic. Then the Marylou slipped from a marshy inlet across the Nanticoke. Clara, wary of trespassing on private property, had hidden her there among the reeds. Earl’s admiration for Clara’s helmsmanship and good sense grew. Now, if she could only be persuaded to apply that same shrewdness to the issue of Pastor Calhoun’s disappearance…

The voyage home was taut. Earl took the helm. Clara greeted Leon with an embrace and a kiss on the cheek before lapsing into pensive silence. Maggie, meanwhile, greeted Leon with a hug and a more or less affectionate slap across his face. But she spared him the embarrassment of further beratement. Jonah just seemed happy to see his bicycle returned intact, and shocked at seeing Maggie backhand Leon. His scandalized expression might have amused in a less severe context.

Afternoon rainclouds had amassed over Moore Island by the time they returned. Huddled together under that foreboding sky, beneath the scrutiny of prying eyes real and imagined, the Higginses and their tiny entourage scurried for cover. They settled in the Higginses’ den, a summit of the disgraced and

soon-to-be disgraced, to dicker and discuss until nightfall. Then, come what may.

The plan earlier seeded in Earl’s mind had since taken root and sprouted. At its center, a radical idea: They would tell the truth, inasmuch—and only inasmuch—as they had each witnessed. Not embellished, but distilled to reveal its basic elements without admitting culpability. Grains of the whole truth, avoiding outright lies as much as possible. Let the law construct from those factual breadcrumbs whatever narrative they would…preferably one that led away from the Higginses. Now they must wait and pray the evidence—planted and otherwise— settled into the right cracks.

But this only worked if they could keep straight what they were and weren’t supposed to know. The sheriff would interrogate them separately, cross reference their statements for inconsistences. For their stories to be air tight, each had to stick to what he’d witnessed with his own eyes. To all other questions they must either plead ignorance, refuse to answer, or deny, deny, deny.

The facts were thus: Neither Earl nor Leon had witnessed Peter Calhoun’s death, nor knew exactly what his final moments had entailed. Leon had no idea where the pastor’s body was hidden. Earl had no clue where the blood-red truck had been dumped or discovered, or even really how it had gotten there. Earl

had, however, hitchhiked along his accustomed route home from work one night with none other than the late Robert Gibbs. The same Robert Gibbs in whose automobile a bloody chunk of human scalp was later found. Later still, Earl had been spotted out on the Sound in the middle of the night, apparently attempting to dispose of a toolbox containing correspondence and a weapon belonging to Mr. Gibbs. Leon, meanwhile, was wholly ignorant of Earl’s interactions with Mr. Gibbs and his possessions. In all other matters, both brothers were as good as blind, deaf, and dumb.

The real trick would be to reveal nothing while seeming eager to reveal a great deal.

That’s how we play this. Looselipped and wagging-tongued. Been dying to get it off my chest.

That last part, at least, was no lie.

At half past three a pair of Oyster Police boats commenced patrolling the Sound to the north and south of the island, cutting off flight by water. Not that the Higginses were considering anything of the sort, but the show of force was telling. Now Earl knew for certain—the law was coming for them tonight. After all this waiting, all these weeks of paranoid preamble, Tyler Calhoun would want to make a spectacle of their arrest. He would likely time it right as their friends and neighbors arrived home from work for the evening. Earl figured they had until the tide went out

All Quiet

to make final preparations.

As the clock above the mantle ticked towards five, the Higgins siblings huddled at the kitchen table where this nightmare began and contemplated its end. To grant them privacy, Jonah stepped outside to keep watch from the porch. Clara did likewise from the windows of Leon’s upstairs bedroom. Dougal, sensing the tension, whined from his crate in the corner, where ammonia from pup’s accidents had obliterated more nefarious stains from the floorboards to the effect of an ancient Roman launder. But the house and its occupants would remember in their bones.

Earl looked at his siblings in turn, noting the effects of the ordeal on their young, haunted faces. His bore like signs of strain, he knew. Dark bags under bloodshot eyes, premature creases etched across his brow from untold hours of rumination, scruff on his neck and jawline where he’d grown neglectful with the razor. They’d all three lost weight, what little extra they’d been carrying around between them gnawed away by guilt and worry.

Was it worth it? Earl wondered. How did one even begin to measure that? In years? In that case he’d have to wait and see what prison sentence was handed down, and to whom. If Maggie went free, he’d account it a victory, but he held no illusions

All Quiet

about the years that might be shaved off his and Leon’s lives in the bargain. In social capital? Talk about a depressed economy! Even if the courts viewed them favorably, a big ‘if,’ the Higginses would struggle to find work in this town again, except by working for themselves. All well and good for watermen; viable, even, now that they held the deed to the Marylou. But what would Maggie do if both her brothers got locked up? Here they were on the eve of their greatest test, and all too much remained uncertain.

“Whatever happens, Maggs,” he said, “You gotta make a life for yourself off Moore Island. Off the Shore even, if you can manage. This place ain’t good for you no more.” He winced as a look of hurt registered on her face. Maybe he’d worded that harsher than intended. “That’s not—” he fumbled, searching for the right words. “I just mean you oughta consider broadening your horizons. There’s more to the world than the Sound and the Shore, and you deserve to see it.”

“You’re one to talk!” Maggie sniffled. “You’ve never been anywhere.” And I’m not likely to anytime soon either, am I?

Instead he said, “Right, and look where it’s got me! All of nowhere. So go on! See the sights, live your life! Hopefully the world treats you kinder than the island’s treated our

family. Whatever happens, will you promise me that?”

She paused, held his gaze for a time with her big brown eyes so reminiscent of Mom’s, then nodded once. “Okay Earl. I promise.”

Leon frowned. “Ya’ll wanna leave? But wasn’t the whole point of all this hoodwinking so we ain’t gotta run?

All our roots are here!”

“That’s true,” said Earl, “most of ‘em dead n’ buried. You even said it yourself once, remember? Our roots are all withered, you said. Who knows? Maybe places go fallow for folks same as fields do. Sometimes you just gotta recognize when to pick up and plant where the soil’s less barren.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Leon didn’t sound quite like he believed it. But after months of fretting and talk they could discuss the matter no further. So they sat in silence instead, taking solace in the familiar company of family for however long remained to them. Not long, as it turned out.

“Leon?” said Clara from upstairs at five-fifteen. “They’re coming!”

A moment later, Jonah stuck his head in the front door. “I think the cavalry’s here!”

“Guess this is it then, huh?” said Leon.

Earl’s mouth felt parched. His throat clicked drily as he said, “I guess so.”

“I love you both, forever and always,” said Maggie. She scrubbed her eyes. “I hope you can forgive me

for…all this.”

“Love you too, Maggs. Nothin’ to forgive. You did what you thought was right.”

“I love you too, Maggie,” echoed Earl. He couldn’t quite bring himself to say the other part. He wasn’t ready to yet; might never be. “Love you too, Leon.”

“And me you, Earl. Let’s meet these bastards out front, shall we?” They embraced a final time, then stepped outside together to accept their fates.

Two by water, and now two by land. Here came Tyler Calhoun in his motorcar, its painted placard clattering against the grille as the Model B rattled over muddy divots in the road. A paddy wagon followed behind him, into the back of which Earl and Leon—and God forbid, Maggie—would be thrown and hauled off.

Neighbors, some of whom hadn’t spoken a word to the Higginses in weeks, materialized on their front porches and lawns to watch the show. The police vehicles halted not in the Higginses drive, but at its end, as if to block escape by that outlet, too. A moot point on several counts, since Betsy was now indisposed in a ditch on the side of the Nanticoke Road and the Higginses had already decided against flight.

Lawmen—Deputy Calhoun and three others, Earl noted with un-

ease—climbed from the vehicles. Four total, not counting those on the Sound. Had the sheriff deputized men special for the occasion? Seemed like a crowd to bring in two young men, but then they’d want to make a show of it. Certainly they’d wasted enough man hours behind the case already.

Deputy Calhoun was in his element as he swaggered up the lane ahead of the other officers. Everything about his bearing oozed smug satisfaction. He gave a congenial tip of his hat to the curious neighbors and stragglers amassed along the road. Then he turned to the Higginses with his hands planted on his hips. Earl’s unease, which he had assumed was already at maximum capacity, grew.

“Seems we were expected, huh fellas?” said Deputy Calhoun to his colleagues. Then, quiet enough that only the Higgins siblings could make out, “I been waitin’ a long time for this.”

“Get on with it then,” said Leon. The deputy’s lips narrowed to a thin smile. “Earl Arthur and Leon Eldridge Higgins, you are hereby under arrest on suspicion of involvement in the disappearance and presumed murder of Peter Calhoun.” He paused to allow—or savor—the collective gasp and rustle of obligatory whispers as those gathered relayed the words to the less attentive and harder of hearing. “Until further notice, you are to be detained pending

trial in Salisbury. Now turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

“On what charges?” The challenge rang out over the chatter of the neighborhood gawkers, inviting more low mutters.

“Who said that?” Narrowed eyes flicked left to right from the shadow of the deputy’s hat brim.

“I did!” said Jonah Everett, shouting to make himself heard above the gaggle. “You said ‘on suspicion of involvement,’ but you haven’t named a charge.”

Deputy Calhoun’s eyes widened. “Hell d’you think you’re doing here, boy? And what’s your mother gonna say when she hears about this? She’s apt to throw a fit!”

“I’ll worry about Mom later, thanks,” said Jonah coldly. “Now I’ll ask again. What charges are you bringing these men in on? ‘Cos all I’ve heard outta you so far are vague calumnies.”

“Calum—what? Who taught you to talk that fancy talk, boy? Weren’t your mama, that’s for damn sure.”

“I’ll make sure to tell her you said that, but it’s neither here nor there. What’re the charges, Deputy? Otherwise, I don’t see as you’ve got legal recourse to bring them in handcuffed against their will.”

Deputy Calhoun glanced at Earl and Leon. “You two’re comin’ in one way or the other, understand, no

matter what my clever little cousin says. You sure you want me to read it out?”

“Goddamn right,” said Leon. Earl nodded. Regardless of whether Jonah had spoken up out of the goodness of his heart or because he was hoping to score easy points with Maggie, Earl welcomed his support. Certainly their actual neighbors were staying quiet enough, except for murmurs and looks of judgment.

The deputy clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Have it your way, then.” He raised his voice. “The charges are accessory to murder; namely, aiding and abetting…after the fact.”

After the fact. That was the critical distinction, wasn’t it? And if neither Earl nor Leon were being charged with murder, then that left… Earl exchanged a weighty look with Leon, then glanced over his shoulder at the two young women standing on the Higginses’ front porch. Maggie stared at her feet, ashen-faced and miserable. Beside her, Clara twisted a tear-stained handkerchief in her fingers, the expression on her grey face unreadable. Was that resignation Earl detected? Anger? At whom, then? Deputy Calhoun, most likely, but maybe Earl and Leon as well. Clara was no fool; she might have some rough sense of the way the story was shaping up behind the scenes.

“What you’re seeing today is justice!” said Tyler Calhoun to the as-

sembled islanders, in a tone so sanctimonious Earl could’ve vomited. None but the deputy seemed to relish the pronouncement, but no one challenged it either.

As handcuffs were clapped bitter cold around Earl’s wrists, lifelong neighbors receded to their homes. Watching them turn their backs on him and his siblings, Earl reflected that the Higginses’ were withered roots, indeed. Withered roots, clung to the eroding embankment of this island sinking into the Sound.

“Wait!” Maggie dashed from the porch as the stony-faced lawmen marched Earl and Leon up the lane in cuffs. A deputy Earl didn’t recog-

nize stopped her, held her at arm’s length until Deputy Calhoun gave a sour-faced nod of assent. Maggie affi xed each of the lawmen in turn with a glare sharp enough to castrate. Then she threw her arms around her brothers and whispered fiercely in their ears, “Stick to your guns, don’t let them frighten you! Clara and I’ll visit soon as we can!”

Then Earl and Leon were being drawn away and shoved into the back of the paddy wagon. The door slammed shut behind them.

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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