Pictured back row, left to right: Granddaughter Sheila Herbert, Sheriff Joe Gamble, Mayor Robert Willey, Senator Addie Eckardt, Delegate Chris Adams, Delegate Johnny Mautz, grandson Cooper Towers, and Wendy Towers. Pictured front row, left to right: Granddaughter Courtney Springer, daughter Debbie Kudner holding great-granddaughter Elisabeth Claggett, Hazel Newnam holding great-grandson Gabriel Claggett, grandson Bo Claggett holding great-granddaughter Francesca Claggett. Absent from the photo is great-grandson Cruz Springer.

She credits her long, healthy life to a good attitude, good friends and her Christian faith. Hazel Newnam, age 100, a resident at Dixon House for the last three years, embraces life. Fiercely independent, Hazel managed to live alone until coming to Dixon House. She had visited a friend at Dixon House for years and when it came time to make the transition to assisted living herself, Dixon House seemed like the logical next step. She recently gathered with family, friends and dignitaries to celebrate her 100th birthday. Newnam was honored with proclamations from Governor Hogan, the Maryland Senate, the Maryland House of Delegates, the County Sheriff’s Department, the Town of Easton, and even a letter from President Donald Trump. Music was provided by Cabaret-style singer Daryl Grant Lindsay.

She commented at the event, “It was so wonderful to celebrate with family. I think it’s wonderful they all remembered me.”

Newnam was born on August 2, 1918. A native of Clairton, PA, she met William “Bill” Newnam while he was working construction in Pennsylvania and after he had graduated from the Pittsburgh Aeronautical Institute. The two were married in 1940 and then Bill became a Marine and flew Corsairs in Japan as part of the U.S. peacekeeping efforts during World War II. The couple lived in Oxford in the late 1940s after the war ended. Bill brought a Corsair back to Talbot County to sell war bonds. Soon after, he purchased Maryland Airlines, a private charter business, where he continued his love of flying.

Bill imparted his love of flying to Hazel by teaching her how to fly when she was in her 50s. She comments, “The opportunity was there and I took it. I felt like I was doing something special and I enjoyed the whole experience. Knowing I could fly gave me confidence and Bill was really proud of me.”

The couple ran Maryland Airlines until the 1990s and during this time Bill also managed Easton’s Airport. They had two daughters, Suzanne Towers (now deceased) and Debbie Kudner. Today Hazel has four grandchildren and seven great grandchildren.

After her husband died in May 1991, the Airport name was changed to Easton Airport/Newnam Field, in memory of Hazel’s husband, Bill.

She states, “I tried to live the right kind of life. I stayed active with the Oxford Methodist Church, sang in the choir, lead the MYF, and served as a member of the WSCS. I also served a number of years as a volunteer for the Memorial Hospital Auxiliary.”

Hazel’s daughter, Debbie Kudner, recalls, “Mother was totally independent and had lots of friends. She used to load up the Cadillac, which I called the ‘Gospel Bus,’ and take trips up and down the East Coast with her church friends.”

Today, Hazel’s days are a little quieter, but she still enjoys getting out. The recent celebration at Dixon House was a testimony to her love of a good time.

A new year! More resolutions! And more stuff!

Over the last month, I have been downsizing my mom’s home since the passing of my father. This month, my mother left her sprawling brick rancher to move into a compact townhouse, half the size of her previous home. She has started the process of simplifying her life to approach her aging years. As the children and grandchildren walked through the memories at the old house during the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays, we discovered treasures that my parents had stashed away – maybe one day for us to find and ogle.

Our finds included my dad’s Argus camera from when he served as a surveyor in the Army in Alaska, his business plane ticket and invitation to the Ambassador of Ireland’s residence in the late 1960s, and the most amazing thing – Neil Armstrong’s autograph before he landed on the Moon in 1969 (we don’t know how my dad got that!). There were Life Magazines talking about Kennedy’s death and yellowed, brittle newspapers announcing the moon landings, Lady Diana’s wedding and death, and the tragedies of 911. My brother and I, who grew up in the 1960s, we were able to reminisce about where we were and what we were doing during each of these landmark moments. It was a bonding experience for both of us and fun to share them with our own children.

Savoring the memorabilia was the fun part of the downsizing process. Next came the culling process – scrutinizing the family china, crystal, silver, and formal housewares that my parents had accumulated over their 57 years of marriage. This was the difficult part of downsizing. The questions were the same – who needed another set of china, who even used crystal anymore, what was that item even used for anyway, and finally, where are we going to put this in our own homes? The grandchildren were born in an IKEA and Pottery Barn age and had little interest in the family heirlooms. I recently read an article in the Washington Post about passing along family heirlooms which explored the issue that many Millennials don’t even cook anymore, let alone eat on china.

We were able to find homes for a few of the heirlooms among the family members, but a large amount of the china, crystal and silver went to be sold in the local consignment store and thrift shop or was sold to antique dealers. I watched as my mother said good-bye to some of her favorite things. She was strong and determined as she let go of item after item, knowing that most of them would not fit into the next chapter of her life. I was so proud that she could take these steps. She is much stronger than I am right now when it comes to getting rid of “stuff.”

This fall, I read both Spark Joy and The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo in preparation for these days. As I have reached my 50s, I am feeling the need to purge the things that no longer bring me joy and which are cluttering my own home and life. I think Kondo’s statement, “A dramatic reorganization of the home causes correspondingly dramatic changes in lifestyle and perspective.” I am taking a lesson from my mother and starting with my own home this month. We rented a small storage unit in December while the Christmas boxes merged with my mother’s moving boxes and on weekends we go and sort and purge the things from our attic and closets. Of course, this was incited by my two twenty-something sons, who told me as I was moving my mom, that they were just going to take all our “stuff” and have a bonfire in their backyard when we moved next, instead of going through it all as we had so painstakingly done with my mother.

Throughout this process, before I let items go that no longer serve me in my life, however, I am taking photographs and journaling about them. We did the same thing in my mom’s house, so she now has a record of the life she and my dad built together. I am realizing that the things we collect are just that – “things.” What is important about them are the memories we form because of them.

In her parting remarks in her book, Spark Joy, Marie Kondo’s states, “Our things form a part of us, and when they’re gone, they leave behind them eternal memories.”
I have realized that the memories linger and so do we as we close the lid on each box.
Amelia Blades Steward is founder of Steward Writing and Communications, a public relations firm in Easton, MD. Her company focuses on copy writing, editing services, and communications plans for nonprofit and for profit companies, small businesses, and local governments. She has written nonfiction articles for national, regional, and local publications for over 33 years. A lifelong storyteller, Steward published her first book in the spring of 2014, a memoir which she co-authored with Charles H. Thornton, entitled “Charles H. Thornton: A Life of Elegant Solutions.”

Ah, the holidays! Just when I thought things were getting easier – no more racing to the store on Black Friday to get the latest toy – remember Furby toys and Nintendo Game Boys? Instead, as a mother of a college student and young adult, I now have to figure out how to get quality time with my kids over the holidays – sharing them with work, friends, girlfriends and their myriad of social activities. When they were young, I never had to worry about whether I would eat Thanksgiving turkey with my children, but instead stewed over whether they would have good table manners around my relatives and whether I could keep them calm as the Christmas decorations came out of the attic that weekend.

I remember the week before Thanksgiving several years ago when my oldest son called to inform me that he may not have time for all of the family gatherings planned for the upcoming holiday weekend. I couldn’t believe my ears. I knew he was overwhelmed with numerous college papers and exams (and probably sleep deprived), but I didn’t think we had come to that time of life where we may not eat Thanksgiving dinner together. I wondered if this was going to be the beginning of new traditions for our family? And, who was going to tell my mother that my son may not be at Thanksgiving dinner? I promptly told him, it would not be me.

As I contemplated his words, I took the advice of a wise friend, took a deep breath and tried not to react. I talked to my son about how much it would mean to all the relatives to have him at the various family dinners. I explained how much they all looked forward to seeing him again since he had been away to college. None of my responses swayed his thoughts. Finally, I decided to get to tell him the reason I wanted him there and ended the phone conversation by saying, “Really, what is most important is for me to spend time with you this weekend.” He answered on the other end, “Why didn’t you just say so, Mom?”

I continue to learn from my children. Although some days seem like they are slipping away from me (and I know they are), I learned from my son that holiday that they still want to know we love them and want to spend time with them. The result that particular Thanksgiving was that my son did attend all of the Thanksgiving dinners (even making a dish of his own to contribute). We all even enjoyed going to the movies together one night – just the four of us.

This year, I am faced with my youngest son being away at college in Ireland. There will be empty spaces at the table this year for him and for my dad, who recently passed away. Change is inevitable and our family traditions can’t live on forever as children grow up and relatives pass away. I am grateful, however, for the years we all sat together and gave thanks for family and the bountiful table. Those memories continue to live on in my heart this year even with empty seats at the table.