We Have Met the Enemy and He is Those People

Tuesday evening I spent at a meeting of the Homeowners Association of my neighborhood. We are a subdivision that is within, but literally on the edge of, the City of Lewes.

For many years, we looked out on farm fields on two sides. Some of those fields have lately been developed. On the last remaining there's a proposal for another large subdivision.

This is only to be expected, we live in a fast-growing area. And, if you look at the thing dispassionately, it makes more sense for these developments to be placed in or next to an established City, where services exist, rather than out in the rural area, where scattered subdivisions only weaken the agricultural economy and force extra expense upon the statewide tax base.

I was disappointed to learn that the Homeowners Association Board has proudly planted a "natural fence" at the end of the cul-de-sac that faces one of the new developments. There was never any suggestion that there be a vehicular connection between the neighboring subdivision and ours, but the homeowners say they want to block pedestrian and bicycle connections.

So they have started a hedgerow.

I asked why we should want to cut ourselves off from our new neighbors.

"If we let people start walking here, they will come to expect it and the next thing you know they will take over our roads."

That's a paraphrase of what one gentleman told me but it is essentially true to what he said. And he was not alone; rather a few others were horrified that I should suggest any form of connection between us and them. (Not all, of course)

I have two problems with this.

First, the roads of our subdivision are not "our roads." They are City of Lewes public roads and as such are open to all who wish to use them. Further, the right-of-way at the cul-de-sac end extends to the border between the two neighborhoods. It is designed to facilitate interconnection.

Second, creating subdivisions that are not connected to one another enforces a self-ghettoization in which we carefully screen ourselves from "others." This is not good for us; it threatens our soul. It is bad Karma. It is stupid.

Humans live in societies. Societies are, by their nature, social. We are meant to meet and interact with one another. When we fail to do that we diminish our lives and shrink our hearts.

The only justification for walling-off our neighbors is self-preservation. At some points in human history, and in some places today, we have had a need to separate from enemies. But within Delaware, within Lewes, that should not be necessary.

That we have a desire to wall-off our neighbors suggests, and creates, an enmity between us.

That is just sad.

Lewes' Silent Protests are Heard in the New York Times

Those of us who live in Lewes have gotten used to the weekly silent protests that take place each Sunday afternoon at the intersection of Kings Highway and Savannah Road. Today, there's a New York Times article about them: Silence Speaks Volumes at Intersection of Views on Iraq War. (Reg. Req.)

Anti-war protesters began gathering for a silent vigil each week back in 2004. Eventually pro-war demonstrators started to counter them and, for a time, things were fairly ugly.

After the peace vigil began in 2004, a group of counterprotesters began convening across the street. Some of the younger members of that group brought a radio and blared John Philip Sousa marching songs and patriotic music like “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Occasionally they yelled unkind things through a megaphone. At one point, fish guts and manure were strewn along the grass where the peace vigil meets.

Eventually, though, the pro-war side thinned out to one very faithful, but very polite gentleman. He is occasionally joined by others, but the ugliness is gone.

Tommywonk has picked up on one of the central points about this story; that it is possible to disagree civilly with each other about this war. I think that when you find someone on the other side of the question whose beliefs are deeply held, and honestly tested, you generally find the ability to disagree with grace.

I was struck by another aspect of the story. The Times noted that it is appropriate for this sort of protest to take place in a small town, since, it says, small towns have borne the brunt of war casualties.

About half of American military casualties in Iraq have come from towns with fewer than 25,000 residents. Among rural states, Delaware has the second-highest death rate, with 60 deaths per million military-age people, according to an analysis by William O’Hare of the Carsey Institute, a rural research center based at the University of New Hampshire, which has studied the demographics of soldiers fighting in the war.

Of course, we need to bear in mind that this is a rate of deaths, and not an actual number. Delaware's population is still less than million. Still, it is sobering and it led to me to a little searching to see how many Delawareans have lost their lives in this war. According to a casualty database from (I think) the AP and linked from the News Journal Site, 14 men and women who called Delaware home have died. I'm sure there are others whose home state was no loner Delaware, but who have family and friends here.

And this is a good say to point out that even though I oppose this foolish war, and think we were wrong to invade Iraq, I honor these men and women and all the men and women who serve our nation. That our President has made a terrible mistake is not their fault; in fact they suffer the consequences of that mistake and do their best every day to make it right.

Today, as every day, they will be in my thoughts.

Here's a Cause Worth a Donation

I was honored last week to be quoted in a story (Teacher's torch to blaze for years) on a new scholarship fund set up in memory of former Lewes Mayor George H.P. Smith, who passed away in September of last year.

Mayor Smith's Daughter, Barbara Smith-Shelton, has founded the Hon. George H.P. Smith Memorial Scholarship to help students at Lewes' Cape Henlopen High School who plan to become teachers.

Before he was Mayor, George Smith was a highly respected teacher. That's an aspect of his life that I had mentioned in my memorial posting last year. Kim Hoey, a freelance writer and old acquaintance, found that posting and quoted one of my favorite memories of the Mayor: his school-master approach to running meetings.

The fund is being managed by the Greater Lewes Foundation. Donations can be made through the Foundation, at Box 110, Lewes, DE 19958. More information? Try the Foundation at (302) 644-0107.

By the way, there's a sweet picture of Mayor Smith posted with the Cape Gazette's memorial story last fall.

I hope you will join me in making a donation.

Filed in:

• lewes
• education

Imagine My Surprise

I just finished a novel that is set, in part, in my home town, only in the late 1800s.

I had not realized that it would be set here in Lewes when I pulled Tunnell's Boys off the library shelf. I just did what I always do, I wandered along the New Books shelf and, judging them entirely by their covers, picked two to bring home and read. That approach usually works just fine.

Tunnell's Boys is a historical novel by Tony Junker, a Philadelphia architect and sailor. It tells the story of two young men who meet as apprentice Delaware River and Bay Pilots. It is set partly in Philadelphia, partly in Lewes, and partly on the Delaware River and Bay and on the Atlantic Ocean.

The sail and steam-powered boating in the book is very well told. Mr. Junker knows his boats and the moods of deep and shallow waters. It works just fine as a sea-going adventure.

Thematically, this book is about war and responsibility and the duties of men and women in the world. Mr. Junker is a Quaker, and uses his story to examine some of the larger issues of life from the perspective of Quaker practice. The story turns on the US war with Spain over Cuba. It holds some parallels for our foreign policy predicament of today.

What fascinated me, though, was to read a novel set in Lewes, Delaware. I don't know our history quite well enough to know how much license Mr. Junker may have taken, but I know enough to say that he has painted a plausible past for the First Town.

Much of the action takes place on the waters of the Bay. The characters live and work on a schooner that anchors behind the breakwater off Lewes. They discuss the need for a second breakwater, to expand the anchorage. This would be built eventually. The old Cape Henlopen Lighthouse is there on the dunes, but a major storm erodes away the sand at the base, and characters worry that it may soon slide away. I recognized street names and places. It felt right; it felt like Lewes in the days of sail.

I do wonder about Mr. Junker's addition of a brothel, run and staffed by Cuban emigres, to 19th-century Lewes. I am not sure whether that might be accurate or not, and I'm not sure who to ask. Should I go up to one of the elderly ladies of the Lewes Historical Society and ask? I suppose they might surprise me.

I also found myself thinking of local "coastal conservative" Jud Bennett as I read this book. Jud is now working his way up in politics, and blogging. But he was once a Delaware River and Bay Pilot. I could see Jud, a big guy, bushy-bearded and commanding, climbing onto the deck of a three-masted ship and piloting her up from Lewes the Philadelphia.

In fact, I used Jud's face in my internal movie for one of the characters in the book.

I had thought to read another sea-story, fun and salty but nothing special. Instead, I found a sort of history machine, taking me back in my town's time.

Filed in:

• Delaware
• Bay
• Book
• Lewes

A Symphony Orchestra Concert at Lewes

We celebrated our hometown's history yesterday evening at a concert by the Delaware Symphony Orchestra at the College of Marine Studies' Virden Center, here in Lewes.

The concert was part of a year-long celebration of the 375th anniversary of our town, which began in 1631 when a group of (Dutch) Europeans attempted to set-up a trading post that they called Zwaanendael.

From that small, and ultimately futile beginning (the settlers failed to get along well with the established population and were eventually attacked and destroyed), flow almost four centuries of history. Based on that settlement, we lay claim to being the First Town in the First State. It all started here (You're welcome).

We used to have a symphony concert in Lewes every summer. For some years the concert was part of a larger Summer Arts Festival which included some great acts. One year, before the girls were born, we got to see the folk-singer Odetta.

A feature of the festival each year was a pops concert by the Delaware Symphony. It always ended with a rendition of the 1812 Overture, performed with a battery of historic iron cannon blasting away in the finale. If you have never heard the 1812 Overture with real cannon, you are missing a wonderful musical experience.

I still remember the first time we attended the concert. It was held at that time at Cape Henlopen State Park and as the show started, a thick fog rolled in from the Atlantic. By the time the cannon were fired, we could no longer see the orchestra. The cannons' muzzle-flashes lit the fog all around us. It was like being inside the thunder-head cloud during a major thunderstorm.

This weekend's concert was in a large field alongside the Virden Center. We all brought lawn chairs and blankets. Many people enjoyed picnic dinners and gatherings of friends and family.

Karen and I packed a light supper of pita and hummus with carrots and zucchini. We sat and chatted with Andy and Lynn, who joined us for the show, and then sat back to enjoy the music.

The evening was fine. The week's heavy heat and humidity finally broke with an evening breeze, clear skies, and a hint of thunderstorms on the northern horizon. It was perfect evening to put your feet up and listen to the music.

The Delaware Symphony has new leadership since the days when they used to come down for a concert each summer. The program was still "Pops," but I think it was a more adventurous set than had been the case in the past. They started with Fanfare for the Common Man, which Karen and I both love, and continued with a set of variations on America by Charles Ives. Ives was one of America's first great composers and his approach to music -- standing it on its head, warping, twisting and resculpting familiar tunes -- appeals to my musical tastes.

There were also Sousa marches, but they threw in a Sousa dance number, described by the conductor as a "Victorian Tango." That's an interesting notion, isn't it?

The 1812 Overture was well-played, even without the cannons, and they finished with a traditional Stars and Stripes Forever, guest-conducted by the Delaware Secretary of State, whose budget helped support the event.

After a brief pause to let the sun settle, there was a fine fireworks finale. A good time was had by all.

Filed in:

• Lewes
• Delaware
• history
• anniversary

More Beachcombing

Colleen was away on a trip to an amusement park today with the Junior Honor Society. Karen, Christina and I spent a few hours on Lewes Beach; the Bay Beach, up the way from the public city beach.

Christina and I took a beachcombing walk up the beach to Roosevelt Inlet. Along the way, we found pebbles and shells and boats. We got to watch Horseshoe Crabs mating and we visited with a pair of whelks.

Another beautiful Sunday on the beach.

Working on Second Street

Lewes' main commercial street, Second Street, is undergoing an extreme makeover. This will look great when it is done, but it was a mess today as I walked around town. The wind was up and dust and grit were blowing everywhere.

I took the day off today and had a massage. I met my co-workers at lunchtime for a farewell lunch for Ann Marie Townshend, who is leaving us to become the planning director for the City of Dover.

The sun was out, so I took some time to wander around my city and take some pictures. It's hard to go far in Lewes without finding something fun to photograph.

Let's face it, we live in a lovely little town.

The Lewes City Dock

This is one of my favorite spots in Lewes. The City Dock is just off the main part of town. It floats along the bank of the Lewes-Rehoboth Canal where the canal widens out into a harbor.

I once caught a filleted flounder here. I dropped a line on a hot summer afternoon and snagged a flounder that had been caught by someone on one of the head-boats that sail from Fisherman's Wharf, across the water from this spot. It had been cleaned on the dock over there and the remains dumped overboard into the canal.

That may have been the biggest fish I ever caught in my brief fling with fishing. Even without most of its flesh.

Another Loss for Lewes

I was saddened this week to learn that Howard Seymour has passed away. Howard died at home on December 4. He was 79.

Howard was a member of the Lewes Board of Public Works and sat as an ex-officio member on the Lewes Planning Commission. So, for the last several years I've spent about one evening each month with him. He was a cranky-seeming guy, but he knew all about the city and the utilities that serve the city.

He liked to appear crusty and cantankerous, but at heart he was a sweet, kind, wise man. He will be missed.

We're losing too many of our city's characters. Howard was one of the people who made Lewes unique and special. We've lost Howard. We lost Mayor Smith. It's been a rough year.

Delaware's Own Punkin Chunkin is Now an International Story

The deeply serious, international news magazine The Economist has a story on World Championship Punkin Chunkin this week.

The story (Pumpkin-shooting: The meaning of America) starts by placing Punkin Chunkin squarely into an international context:

IF THE United Nations were to send weapons inspectors to Delaware, they would find a surprising number of superguns being assembled in backyards. If interrogated, the unshaven men tinkering with these enormous weapons would say they were building devices for hurling pumpkins great distances. The men from the UN would doubtless find this hard to believe.

It's great to see Punkin Chunkin getting the wide attention it has gotten lately. It's a quirky sport born here in my home town and one of its earliest stars was Karen and my next door neighbor for a few years at the start of our marriage.

We don't attend anymore; Punkin Chunkin has gotten too big and I miss the days when the rickety rotary-arm pumpkin flingers were the most powerful entrants. My beef with compressed-air cannons is simple: they fire the vegetables so fast that you can't watch the flight of the pumpkin.

But it's fun to track the event from a short way away. I watch for mentions in the press and follow the box-scores (so to speak).

This is the first time, though, that I've seen Punkin Chunkin used to sum up what it means to be an American:

All in all, Punkin Chunkin is a symbol of what makes America great. Only in the richest country on earth could regular guys spend tens of thousands of dollars building a pumpkin gun. Only in a nation with such a fine tradition of inventiveness, not to mention martial prowess, would so many choose to. And only in a land of wide open spaces would they be able to practise their chunkin without killing their neighbours. Alas, the 285-acre cornfield where Punkin Chunkin has been held for the past 20 years is soon to be sold and developed. But the chunkers will probably move to Maryland.

Final note: Punkin Chunkin won't be moved to Maryland. The developer has promised one more year on the farm near Millsboro and has another large farm under contract that can probably host the event in 2007.

It is true that the pace of development around here does threaten the long-term availability of Punkin Chunkin sites. On the other hand, one can perhaps infer from the developer's recent generosity that the pace at which lots are selling in the many subdivisions that are being approved is starting to slow.

Filed in:

• Delaware
• punkin'chunkin'

Memorial: Former Lewes Mayor George H.P. Smith

My town lost a leader and friend the other day. George H.P. Smith, former Mayor, former City Council member, former educator, church leader and a man to look up to, passed way on Saturday at the age of 74. Mayor Smith had been battling ill health for some years. I was not surprised, though I am saddened, to hear that he has gone.

Mayor Smith is remembered in articles in the News Journal and in the Cape Gazette.

George Smith, a Lewes native, served on City Council for many years after retiring from 35 years as a teacher in local schools. In 1994, when long-time Mayor Al Stango retired, Mr. Smith was elected Mayor. He was re-elected four times before he retired from city government a few years back. He has been ably replaced by Jim Ford, continuing a City tradition of Mayors groomed for the position by the predecessors.

Mayor Stango had brought George Smith into the Council in 1976 and I recall Mayor Stango pretty much told us all to vote for George Smith to replace him. Mayor Stango had that kind of pull; he was also right. Mayor Smith was a great leader.

I owe my tenure on the City Planning Commission to Mayor Smith. He was the leader who asked me to join up, and I’ve been glad to serve.

I also was fascinated to watch George Smith run meetings and lead the City. Mayor Smith was always prepared, always quietly in charge, and able to quell unruly Council members and citizens with a simple, teacherly look – usually that appraising glance across the top of the spectacles that says “I know what you are up to youngster. Just settle down now.”

We have lost a leader. Lewes will not be the same without Mayor Smith, but it is also true that we were blessed to have him as a part of this town for the last 74 years. We’re better off than we would have been, and we can carry Mayor Smith’s legacy into the future.

Thank you, Mayor Smith. It was a great pleasure to know you.

Beachcombing with Christina

This past Saturday, Christina and I spent a pleasant hour or so walking along Lewes Beach, looking for shells and pebbles.

It was a bright and beautiful day, so I was busy with my digital camera. The result? Another photo set on my Flickr site.

Christina shares my taste for pebbles, though I'm trying to teach her a bit of discrimination. If left to her own devices, I'm sure she would cart home every pebble and stone on the beach.

Instead, we brought home a decent sample. We've added them to pebbles from earlier visits and other beaches.

Pebble-collecting always makes me think of my paternal grandmother, Isabel Cooper Mahaffie. Grandma was an artist; mostly a painter, but she also dabbled in terrariums and miniature landscapes.

She had an extensive collection of pebbles she used, some of which I imagine came from this beach, from Rehoboth, Dewey, the barrier islands now known as Delaware Seashore State Park, and Bethany.

I can see her wandering along these shores in the 1920's, 30's and 40's drawing beauty and art supplies directly from nature.

I like to think that some of her spirit and creativity has come down through me to join with the color-sense and music in my mother's family and with the music and determination of Karen's family to help form the characters of Christina and Colleen.

Remembering A Neighbor

This is Mary Vessels Memorial Park, a pocket park nestled between Second Street and Front Street in Downtown Lewes.


This is where you wander to sit and eat your King's Ice Cream when the porch in front of King's is too full on soft summer evenings.

Mary Vessels lived in the old Hall House across from our first house, on East Third Street in Downtown Lewes. We knew her for several years in the early 90's. She was a pleasant woman and a good neighbor. She passed away unexpectedly, and too young, at about the time that we had our first child and started looking for a larger home and ended up settling further towards the edge of town.

The Park was named in her honor a short time later.

A great pleasure of life in a town like Lewes is that every spot has history, people, and memories tied to it. As the people of the town, we're the links between those places and their stories. It's our responsibility to keep those memories alive; to keep the town connected to its past.

Wow! We're Famous Here in Lil' Ole Lewes

The great city of Lewes, Delaware, is mentioned in a recent edition of the Quad-City Times Newspaper in Milwaukee. Of course, from their perspective, we're just a tiny burg somewhere on the east coast.

The story reports on a recent conference -- Urban Waterfronts 22: Gathering By the Waters -- put on by The Waterfront Center. Officials from Davenport , Iowa, were on hand to try to earn about how to spruce-up their waterfront.

One the case studies presented, apparently, was the story of how Lewes' old Boatyard Property is becoming a canal-front park. The Waterfront Center was, I think, among the consultants on the project. John Mateyko, of Lewes, who worked on this project and continues in a leadership role, appears to have been in Milwaukee for the conference and is quoted in the story. It caught my eye as a member of the Lewes Planning Commission; this story was the first big, controversial issue I faced as a newcomer to the Commission.

Our story, as presented at the conference, is how Lewes' citizenry "managed to outmaneuver a high-powered developer" whose development proposal included "a hotel, parking ramp and commercial space on the town's last remaining large piece of open waterfront." I don't remember a hotel as part of the proposal, I'm thinking it was residential units, but no matter. I also question whether it was the last open waterfront land.

"The developer was a big-league guy in town who knew everyone, and everyone thought his project was politically greased and would go through," Mateyko said. "All that was true, except that it didn't go through."

Hmmm. I don't know whether the project was politically greased or not, but it was appropriately zoned, which meant that our only decision point was whether or not to recommend approval of the site plan to City Council. That approval was supposed to be based on whether or not that site plan met all of the technical requirements in our code.

The Planning Commission voted to recommend denial. Council went along with that recommendation and we were all served with papers in a lawsuit.

That is the point at which the lobbying went into high gear. Eventually, the citizen organization collected sufficient pledges from area residents, and from the state government, to allow the city to buy the property and satisfy the property owner, who dropped the suit.

This has been a positive outcome for the City, but I argue that we cannot get into the habit of buying our way out of situations in which projects can legally proceed, but are politically unpopular. This could get very expensive.