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Historical Society of Kent County Celebrates its 50th Home & Garden Tour By Lisa J. Gotto

May 19, 2025 by Spy Desk 1 Comment

If wood and stained-glass windows, nails, walls, and floorboards could talk, what might they say? All the elements that went into the construction of Chestertown’s fine historic homes hold stories, secrets, and dreams. And for one day in June the general public will have the opportunity to explore the environs of some of these secret keepers as part of a Hidden Gems Tour sponsored by the Historical Society of Kent County.

Not since before the pandemic have we experienced the full-on regalia of a Chestertown-themed house and garden tour, but we are happy to report that the Historical Society has been working behind the scenes for more than a year planning its 50^th House and Garden Tour which will take place on Saturday, June 7^th, from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m.

Vicky Smith

To get a sense of what ticket purchasers might see on the tour, we talked to the President of the Board of the Historical Society, Vicky Smith, as well as its Executive Director, Maria Wood.

Smith says this is the first house tour that she has helped manage with the Historical Society, but it is one she is very much looking forward to seeing come to fruition.

“This tour had been planned for 2020, and it was going to be the great 50th anniversary, and Covid sort of prevented that,” she explains.

Filling the void will be eight historical residences located primarily in the vicinity of Mill and Kent Streets. The self-guided tour will include a residence or two on Cannon Street and they will range in age from 18^th- to early 20^th- century structures.

“This is exciting to us because this is the ‘Hidden Gems’ [tour]. So, everybody sees Water Street and Queen Street, [houses] but the houses on this tour are also part of the historic district and are beautiful houses on their own,” says Smith. “So, we’re excited to be able to offer a variety of houses, most of which have not been on a house tour.”

Smith adds that Historical Society board member Michelle Carroll and member Lee Dennis did an amazing job taking on the task of identifying the homes and working with the homeowners to secure residences for the show.

After not having the opportunity to plan such an event for some time, Wood says, the group took care to assess what types of events the community would be most interested in having the Society sponsor.

“We thought about what people may want terms of what we used to do, and what people might want us to do that’s different,” explains Wood. “Have things changed a lot in terms of people’s appetites and also how to do things? So, I’ve been trying to do some experimentation and find out what works, what is really appealing to people.”

With the event taking place over the span of five hours starting at 11 a.m. and concluding at 4 p.m., Smith suggested participants make a day of it, taking in four homes prior to breaking for their midday meal and save four for after lunch.

The homes will all be in walking distance from one another and along the route, Christ United Methodist Church at 401 High Street is graciously offering a church tour and will serve as a spot to rest or use the facilities while participants are on tour.

Each participant will receive an informative brochure that outlines the residences on the tour and provides a general description of each. Docents will also be available at the church and in the homes to act as guides to share insights regarding the history and design of the homes and to answer any questions participants may have.

Maria Wood

Along with the beauty and architecture of each structure, Smith says, participants will gain insight as to how one lives within the aesthetics and logistics of an historic home, and what is required to to update a home for modern living, ( there’s even a “green” home on the tour) making this a great opportunity for those in the market for a home with history.

She also reminded perspective event-goers that the tour includes each of the dwelling’s landscapes and gardens, as well. And in a town known for its winding walkways and thoughtful plantings, this aspect of the tour is certainly a highlight.

“All the owners take great pride in their gardens, as well as their homes,” she says, adding that the Historical Society is especially grateful for resources like the Chestertown Garden Club and for the homeowners who are participating in this special showing, as the preparation for an event of this nature is substantial.

“Just the landscaping for something like this is a lot of work.”

Tickets for this special event are currently available on the Historical Society of Kent County website at kentcountyhistory.org for $45 per person, and they will also be available the day of the show at the HSKC Bordley Center at 301 High Street in Chestertown.

“And then we do have a premium package for $75 that includes a copy of ‘Historical Houses of Kent County,’ which is a big, beautiful coffee table book,” adds Wood.

Smith says the Historical Society has worked toward attracting both locals and history lovers from the Baltimore, Philadelphia, D.C., and Annapolis areas, as well, as the event is well-timed to coordinate with Chestertown’s National Music Festival, and a special historic anniversary.

“This is the perfect year to revive the house tours because this is the 250th anniversary of the beginning of the Revolutionary War.”

For more about The Historical Society of Kent County, go here

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Review: “Food” at Kent Cultural Alliance By Mary McCoy

May 14, 2025 by Mary McCoy Leave a Comment

Food is about as basic a topic as you can get, ranking just below Life and Death, both of which are intimately connected with food. Since Colonial days, food production and distribution have shaped the landscape, heritage and culture of Kent County and the greater Eastern Shore, so it was a brilliant move for Kent Cultural Alliance to choose “Food” as the theme for its latest artist residency.

Stop by KCA’s gallery now through May 31 and you’ll find an antique scythe that can be played like an upright bass, a precise, sepia-toned drawing of a strawberry plant with ghost writing barely visible underneath, and hundreds of photographs exploring local food production and distribution.

The three artists chosen for this residency arrived with no knowledge of the area but in keeping with KCA’s focus on arts education and community engagement, they were immediately immersed in visiting local farms, kitchens, food pantries, schools, and historical sites to learn about food production and distribution and to work directly with the people involved. The fact that the artists themselves are as different from one another as possible speaks volumes about the breadth of the subject. A European man who draws traditional still lifes with pastels, a Black woman from Harlem who gives voice to underrepresented individuals through her photographs and videos, and a Midwestern white man who creates large public sculptures that are actually gardens could hardly be more unlike, yet each of them found ways to engage with our community and make art about food.

“Ripples” by Tory Tepp

Tory Tepp, who divides his time between working on rural land art projects in Wisconsin and two “food forests” at a college in Florida, is the only one of the artists whose work was already focused on food. A veteran of creating artworks that double as food gardens, he worked with Kent County Middle School students to create raised beds for growing their own vegetables, but since an indoor gallery lacks sunlight and soil, for this show he created sculptures from detritus he found on the farms he visited as part of the residency.

Swooping floor-to-ceiling, a sculpture made with the curved sections of a silo roof speaks of a vanished era when small farms grew and stored grains for their own livestock, while an impromptu forest made with several slim tree trunks gnawed by beavers lends a bit of magic as well as irony. Even as tens of thousands of acres of wetlands are lost to farming and development each year, beavers are busily using their inborn engineering skills to create the ponds and wetlands so vital to healthy ecosystems and carbon sequestration. Concerned with how industrial-scale farming has altered our landscapes, often in ways destructive to local ecology, Tepp explores our changing environment and the hints of history found everywhere in our rural landscapes while also suggesting that with some open, creative thinking, we may be able to find healthier, more sustainable ways to produce our food.

Sheba Legend took a very different and very direct approach by documenting the people and places she encountered during the weeks she was here. Something in the stark

Untitled food pantry by Sheba Legend

black-and-white drama of her photographs turns familiar sights—a long farm lane, seas of lettuce stretching into the distance, oven-fresh baguettes standing at attention in a wicker basket—into iconic representatives of the day-to-day production and distribution of the food which sustains us all. Along with such quintessentially rural scenes as clusters of farm buildings and fields of grazing cattle are less expected shots showing a deli menu, a basket of reduced price “ugly fruit,” and a teenager biting into a sweet roll freshly baked by students in the Kent County High School’s Culinary Arts Program.

Drawing on her own experience of hunger and homelessness during a difficult period of her life, she explored issues of food scarcity with a shot of a worker filling the shelves of a food pantry, a close-up of a nutrition label, seedlings growing in the garden at Minary’s Dream Alliance, and photos of several neighborhood “blessing boxes,” small outdoor cabinets filled with free offerings of food and books.

In addition to framed photos, dozens more appear on a computer screen interspersed with short paragraphs offering insights into the value of small, sustainable farms, especially in areas far from grocery stores, the sharing of food through backyard gardens and church suppers, and historical examples of African-American involvement in farming and the seafood industry, as well as in a 1962 march along High Street in what Legend calls the “complicated racial history” of the area. In keeping with her belief in art as a way of opening doors, allowing her the freedom to approach people, ask questions and learn from them, she has given visibility to people and processes that we all kind of know are there but generally ignore. In so doing, she has honored them and made their stories tangible.

Deeply inspired by artists such as Leonardo de Vinci, Radu Leon creates work that is firmly rooted in European art history making him perhaps the most unlikely “Food” artist of the trio, but he is also a world traveler who has lived and taught in Italy, England, Kenya and China and well remembers the inefficient food system in his native Romania, then under communist rule. Although his traditional still lifes and genre scenes would be at home in the pages of an art history book, his focus is less on the finished artworks than on what is behind them.

“Spunta la speranza” By Radu Leon

Like the Old Masters, he makes his own pastels and paint, sometimes including materials he finds locally. Using methods he taught to Kent County High School art students, he experiments with his “recipes” in a process he likens to cooking. Despite their realistic style, his paintings of kitchen scenes, a silver teapot and sailing ships are highly conceptual in that he chooses his materials for their origins and the meanings they convey. A charming still life of crockery and root vegetables is edged with a certain shade of deep red painted with casein tempera, a milk-based paint he made from the brick dust of a kitchen hearth in a Colonial home where enslaved women once cooked. Both the area’s history and its legacy of slavery leap to mind, just as his choice to hang several works from worn rope from the Sultana speaks of both the area’s maritime past and the ropes that once bound slaves or was used to hang them.

With informative, thought-provoking captions accompanying each work, Leon gently reminds us just how closely those of us who are of European descent are still tied to our Colonial heritage. From similarities in our diet, architecture and systems of government to European models and even to the way the word “art” makes us first think of Western art, discounting the art of other cultures, these tendencies hint at the shadows of ingrained prejudices against non-European peoples still very much alive in our culture.

Perhaps the most telling thing about this show is how each of these artists is so strikingly focused on the potential of art to teach and enrich both artist and viewer. Each of them feels that this residency was a gift, even as their fresh and insightful visions stand as a gift to our community. Even now while National Endowment for the Arts grants, including KCA’s, are being suddenly cancelled, their work proves the power of art to move us, teach us and give us joy.

Contributor Mary McCoy is an artist and writer who has the good fortune to live beside an old steamboat wharf on the Chester River. She is a former art critic for the Washington Post and several art publications and has published five books including a recent poetry collection. She enjoys kayaking the river and walking her family farm where she collects ideas and materials for the environmental art she creates, often in collaboration with her husband Howard. They have exhibited their work in the U.S., Ireland, Wales and New Zealand.

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Boxing Gloves by Jamie Kirkpatrick

May 6, 2025 by Jamie Kirkpatrick 5 Comments

My memory is increasingly suspect these days, but this really happened. At least, I think it did…

It was the summer of 1966, the months between my senior year of high school and my freshman year of college. I was heading north, part of a group of young volunteers organized by what was known at the time as The Grenfell Mission (it’s now called the Quebec-Labrador Foundation) that provided community-based support for conservation and the cultural heritage of the coasts of northern Quebec and Labrador. There were about a dozen of us who would spend the next several weeks working and living in various isolated fishing villages along the St. Lawrence River in northern Quebec. To get there, we flew commercially to Montreal, then boarded a small DC-7 that took us on to Quebec City at which point, we embarked on a packet steamer that over the course of the next three days dropped us off, one-by-one, in our assigned villages. I was the last boy to disembark. My new home would be with the Nadeau family who lived out on the quay near the village of St. Paul’s River, the last stop before the Labrador border; Newfoundland lay just off the coast.

The Nadeau family had eleven children, the eldest only a couple of years younger than I. (I would turn 18 at the end of that summer.) My “job” was to work with the young children in the village, teaching them how to swim, an essential life skill since all the boys would grow up to be fishermen, and all the girls would grow up to marry fishermen. I suppose there were other skills to impart, but in reality, I was basically a camp counselor, a tall and gangly pied-piper to the village kids who had been released from the town’s one-room schoolhouse for the few short weeks of a northern summer. Of course, what I didn’t realize at the time was that I was the one who was doing all the learning—about a different culture, a different way of life, an entirely different world. It was, to say the least, my first experience in becoming a small part of a world that was so much larger than anything I had ever known or even imagined.

Bob Bryan, the chaplain at the high school I had attended, ran the program. He was an Anglican priest and his summer parish was the Quebec-Labrador coast. To tend to his flock, he flew his own sea plane up and down the coast, baptizing babies, marrying couples, burying the dead. He was a revered figure in those parts and I wanted to be just like him someday.

On this particular day, I was with the village kids in town when we heard Bob’s plane overhead. He circled the village a couple of times, then waggled his wings, a sure sign he had something for us. I remember looking up and seeing his grinning face looking out from the pilot’s little window, just before he dropped a package that tumbled down to us. The kids rushed to open the package. Inside were two pair of boxing gloves.

Bob’s plane continued to circle above us. Immediately, the kids formed a ring and the boxing gloves were distributed. I got the first pair and an enormous teenage boy got the other pair. What happened next was…well, I don’t really remember what happened next, but it must have been the shortest match in the history of boxing. I was like one of those cartoon characters who wakes up to see little birdies swirling around his head. I think I remember seeing Bob, leaning out the window of the plane waving and laughing before he flew away.

There is no real point to this story; it’s just a memory, but, like other good memories, it recalls another time, another place, and another me. As my brother-in-law David liked to say, “It’s all good.”

I’ll be right back.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives on both sides of the Chesapeake Bay. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine. His most recent novel, “The Tales of Bismuth; Dispatches from Palestine, 1945-1948” explores the origins of the Arab-Israeli conflict. It is available on Amazon and in local bookstores.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Up Close By Jamie Kirkpatrick

April 29, 2025 by Jamie Kirkpatrick Leave a Comment

We see from afar. If we’re lucky, maybe we catch a brief glance, a quick peek, a first impression of something truly wondrous or beautiful, and sometimes that’s all we get. But what if we took the time to really focus our attention and inspect the details, to absorb all that there is to see in something as common as a flower? Would it change anything? Would we see the wider world more clearly, or would we just get lost in reverie like Ferdinand the Bull who would rather sit under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers and watching the butterflies, than fight in the great Plaza de Toros in Madrid?

A few years ago, my friend Smokey gifted us with some Bearded Iris bulbs for our garden. Late April is their moment to shine. They’re not in flower for long, but when they do bloom, they are magnificent. Their subtle hues, their hint of fragrance, their graceful sway can create some of my favorite springtime moments. But I’ve always admired them from a distance. So, yesterday I decided to take out my camera to get a closer look. That’s when I began to see them differently. For a moment, I got lost in their hidden inner beauty: their sturdy stalks, the feminine fragility of their pistils, all the delicate pastel shades hidden within the folds of their petals, even the dew drops they wore like jewels in the cool morning sunlight. Everything I beheld led me deeper into the mystery that is the natural world. How, I wondered, in the midst of all this political chaos and human pain, does Mother Nature manage to pull it off so gracefully?

As I’m sure you know by now, Pope Francis died last week. I am not Catholic so I have no particular institutional affection or bias for neither the pontiff nor the Vatican. But when I looked closely at Francis and his life, I saw the personification of many of the qualities I hold most dear in a person: simplicity, humility, empathy, a lightness of being that radiated both joy and affection for everyone around him, especially the weakest among us. He was that lovely flower growing in the garden who caught my attention and made me want to look more closely, and when I held him up to that kind of scrutiny and close inspection, I was all the more impressed with what I saw—a human authenticity that transcended all the power and pomp of his ecclesiastical office. I’m sure Francis had his flaws—don’t we all?—but whatever flaws there were in the man paled in comparison to the way he tended his garden. May he rest in peace.

But back to those bearded irises in our own little garden. It might have been sufficient to enjoy them from afar, but when I took a moment to look closer at their intricate beauty, I caught a glimpse of all I had been missing. I would tell you what that was, but William Wordsworth says it much more elegantly than I ever could:

What though the radiance
Which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass,
Of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.

I’ll be right back.

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Victory Garden 101- How Do I Start? By Nancy Taylor Robson

April 27, 2025 by Spy Desk Leave a Comment

Aji Limon in pots

So, you want to start a victory garden. Or your version of it. What next?

“You just put a trowel in the ground,” says Master Gardener Eileen Clements. “There’s almost no wrong away to begin.”

Other Master Gardeners agree. Sara Bedwell is growing in buckets drilled with drainage holes. Deb Silberg starts seeds in reused plastic pots, and plants out her seedlings into raised beds. Others add a few veg plants in a sunny perennial border. Barbara Flook seeds greens directly into raised beds and harvests salads all spring, fall, and often throughout winter. (The Kent County Master Gardeners have directions to make salad boxes, which they offer free). You can stuff a tomato or pepper plant or push a few bean seeds into a tub beside the kitchen door. There are probably as many ways to do this as there are people who want to experience the pleasure and satisfaction of producing food.

Deb Silberg began to grow some of her own fresh vegetables when she moved to Kent County.

“I was inspired by living in a community where people were interested in farming,” she says. “And I got inspired to try.”

Sara Bedwell grows tomatoes partly because hers taste so much better than the store-bought kind, which are often bred for transport rather than flavor. Flook wanted a broader selection of Asian greens than she found in the produce aisle.

Plus, growing your own is economical. For example, a $5 packet of Sungold tomato seeds produces enough plants to share some with the entire neighborhood. And each plant can provide about 40 quarts of cherry tomatoes, a huge savings. (Plus, you know, flavor).

Will your victory garden be perfect? Probably not. But it doesn’t have to be perfect to be satisfying. In any new enterprise, there is always a learning curve, but we have no shortage of people here who offer gardening advice. Not always useful,

Silberg harvested greens

but always well meant.

“It’s trial and error,” says Bedwell, who has been the recipient of some of that advice. “What works for one doesn’t necessarily work for everyone, so you learn what works best for you.”

Silberg agrees.

“I failed a few times,” she says. “I talked with a few people at The Mill, who were so helpful. And I pestered the Master Gardeners at the booth so often that they suggested I take the course!” (Which she did).

“Learning by failure is the only way to do it,” agrees Flook. (The old adage is: ‘You’re not really a gardener until you’ve killed at least 100 plants). Flook’s gardens have morphed considerably over the years. “When I began, I double-dug my garden,” she says. (Double digging was then in vogue along with French intensive gardening, both of which are just as exhausting as they sound). “If I had it to do over, I’d just have thrown a carboard flat on the ground to kill everything underneath it and then be ready to start in the spring” she says now.

Regardless of how you approach it, start small. It’s better to have less space than you think you want and expand as you gain knowledge and experience rather than to get overambitious, overwhelmed, and discouraged.

Sara Bedwwell potted garden

“Not having too much space to deal with was kinda my goal,” says Bedwell, who works two jobs and is in the process of clearing a piece of ground for a bigger gardening project. Containers limit the work since they are a snap to weed and water. They also offer an easy way to experiment with positioning. “We’ve started with buckets because pots and buckets can be moved.”

If you’re starting in-ground, south-facing is best – vegetables and fruits need a minimum of six-eight hours of direct sunlight daily.

“Choose carefully where you’re gonna put that garden because you need to have sun and access to water,” Flook advises.

Once that choice has been made, Flook urges gardeners to: “Plant what you like to eat. Lettuce and greens, which are easy to grow, work well in containers and raised beds, and are so good for you,” she says. “They also tend to be ready to eat within about six-seven weeks from seed.”

This is especially good for young gardeners. It’s not instant gratification, but it’s swift enough to be both encouraging and educational. Peas, beans, herbs, (which are often quite expensive), and greens, all of which usually germinate in about 5-8 days, and grow fairly quickly, are great for youngsters to start with. And, if you let the seeds of pole beans dry on the vine then store them in an air-tight container in a cool place, you can plant them next year, another savings.

“I started with a lot of tomatoes and peppers and things that were easier to grow,” says Silberg. “And I kind of expanded because I’m feeling more confident now.”

Determinate tomatoes (often hybrids), which grow to a genetically predetermined size and production, are usually better for pots but will also do well in the ground. Indeterminate tomato varieties (often heirloom) continue growing and producing until frost gets them, but are usually too rangy for pots, though doable if you set up a sturdy support to attach them to and secure it so the pot doesn’t fall over in a wind.

Whatever way you decide to start, know that you’re in good company and have plenty of local encouragement.

“The sense of producing something that you can eat and share was really compelling to me,” says Silberg. “I grow flowers, but I share a lot more of the things I grow to eat, and I have seedlings that I can give away and they can grow it, and that makes me happy, too!”

https://extension.umd.edu/programs/environment-natural-resources/program-areas/home-and-garden-information-center/master-gardener-program/about-program/grow-it-eat-it/

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Spring Cleaning By Jamie Kirkpatrick

April 22, 2025 by Jamie Kirkpatrick Leave a Comment

It’s that time of year: some atavistic impulse kicks in and we all go off on a cleaning tear. Maybe we’re just shaking off the winter doldrums, or maybe it’s all that green pollen that coats everything, our noses and throats included. Or maybe it’s just that we want a clean, fresh start, and what better time to do that than now, when this lovely planet is doing its own version of spring cleaning: trees in bud, bulbs blooming, grass growing—everything is regenerating and rejuvenating after months of dormancy and despair.

At home, I should have seen it coming. A week ago, my wife said she wanted to touch up a “one or two” spots in the kitchen with some fresh paint. Well, give a mouse a cookie and pretty soon, everything was off the walls and a major project was underway. A few days later, same thing, same room, but in our other home over on the Western Shore, except this time, everything had to come off all the counters and out of all the kitchen drawers and cabinets. All the silverware, all the plates and glassware, the coffee pot, the blender, the toaster oven, the fruit bowl…EVERYTHING. Them, of course, EVERYTHING needed a temporary place to reside which means that the dining room began to look like the Beltway during rush hour—all backed up with no place to go. Fortunately, two professional painters came to our rescue, so my wife was promoted to supervisor and the work got done in just two days. However, three more days later, the mouse and I are still in the process of moving things back to where they were, albeit with a little culling of the herd. Decluttering is good for the soul.

Remember that mouse who wanted a cookie? Now, she wants a glass of milk. This time her target is the porch that’s covered with last year’s dead leaves and this year’s whirligigs and pollen. That means everything has to come off so that our handyman friend can now paint the floor of the porch (we’re still over on the Western Shore, mind you) while we hose off all the wicker furniture which we’ve temporarily stacked in the driveway where the cars used to be. At one point, I couldn’t find something I needed and began to mutter and moan. “What’s the matter?” my wife asked. I said, “Nothing, dear,” never daring for a moment to tell her that what I wanted to do was to stake my claim in the easy chair in front of the television so I could celebrate Easter by watching another golf tournament. Nothing says “Christ is risen!” like watching golf on TV.

Anyway, it’s probably true that once everything gets reassembled and properly stowed away, we’ll feel a modicum of satisfaction because we’ve done our duty and are on track to properly greet the new season. Nope; not so fast. Now that Mother Nature is awake and active again on the Eastern Shore, there’s a backyard full of work to do over there: weeds to pull, edges to cut, mulch to spread, and grass to mow. Fortunately, we know another guy whose back is strong and whose rates are reasonable so, like a baseball manager making his second trip to the mound in the same inning, I’ve signaled to the bullpen for my ace relief pitcher without a pang of regret or remorse. We’ll share the fun!

John Wesley, the father of Methodism, claimed that “cleanliness is next to godliness.” Well right now, I’m feeling especially godly, so on this spring Sunday afternoon, I’m finally going to sit down and watch a few grown men attempt to roll a small white ball into a hole with a flat stick. The mouse and her next spring cleaning project will just have to wait.

I’ll be right back.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives in Chestertown. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine. His most recent novel, “The Tales of Bismuth; Dispatches from Palestine, 1945-1948” explores the origins of the Arab-Israeli conflict. It is available on Amazon and in local bookstores.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Masterful By Jamie Kirkpatrick

April 15, 2025 by Jamie Kirkpatrick 1 Comment

I admit it: I spent most of last weekend watching The Masters. I assume most everyone is familiar with The Masters—the first of the golfing world’s four annual “major” tournaments. It takes place at the Augusta National Golf Club, a storied property in Georgia, and it comes at a time when those of us who live “up north” are desperate for spring. The Masters more than delivers spring in all its color and glory. Each of the eighteen holes on the property are named for a tree or flowering shrub, and the lush green fairways are always a promise of better weather ahead. Add to that splendid vernal picture, the history of the game, our nostalgia for its past champions, and the soothing theme music written by Dave Loggins that seems to waft thought the tall Georgia pines that line the fairways, and you find yourself transported to another, more peaceful world, a place without tariffs or even a hint of malice. It doesn’t last forever, but it is a welcome respite from the din and constant chaos of the moment.

And this year, there was another compelling storyline to The Masters. Rory McIlroy, an Ulsterman and one of golf’s most popular superstars, was on a quest to complete the Career ‘Grand Slam,’ a victory in each of golf’s four major tournaments. The Career Grand Slam is the holy grail of professional golf; only five players had ever achieved the prize: Gene Sarazan, Ben Hogan, Jack Nicklaus, Gary Player, and Tiger Woods. By 2014, Rory had three of the four majors under his belt, but the fourth—The Masters—has eluded him for the past eleven years. He had come tantalizingly close, only to fail at the last. Would he ever finally reach the summit?

I don’t want to bore you with the details leading up to Sunday’s final showdown. Rory had played well, and at the start of the final day, he had a two-shot lead over Bryson DeChambeau. Other notables—Scottie Scheffler, Ludvig Åberg, Patrick Reed, and Justin Rose—were well within striking distance. Would this finally be Rory’s year, or would he stumble again? We would know soon enough.

When Rory doubled bogeyed the first hole on Sunday and his playing partner Bryson made par, there was suddenly a tie atop the leader board. And there was a feeling in my throat, a lump, that fear of failure that haunt us all. Some people may find golf boring or elitist or both, but the final round of this year’s Masters had all the toppings of a consummate Greek tragedy. The gods on Olympus were once again conspiring to thwart Rory’s dream, denying this mere mortal his dream of joining golf’s pantheon. And even worse: they would make Brash Bryson the cupbearer of defeat.

But that didn’t happen. DeChambeau crashed and burned, while Rory was all grit and resilience. He rose, he fell, and rose again. And on the final hole of regulation play, when only a putt of a few feet stood between him and victory, he fell again. He looked painfully drained, maybe even defeated.

And now Rory is in a sudden-death playoff with Justin Rose, a worthy opponent who had seen his own share of ups and downs over the previous three days. At the end of his round, Rose sunk a difficult twenty-foot putt to reach 11 under par. Twenty minutes later, when Rory missed his par putt on 18, there was another tie atop the leader board. A playoff, sudden-death; the gods could not have written a better script.

On the first playoff hole, both men hit commendable drives and then even better approach shots. Rose had about twelve feet for his birdie; Rory was inside him, only five feet away. Rose’s putt just missed; he tapped in for par. Now it was Rory and history, face to face. The nerves, the lifelong dream, all the hard work and disappointments along the way. But then, with a single sure stroke, Rory’s putt dropped in the hole and it was over. Rory won. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. It all came pouring out and now there are six members of the Career Grand Slam Club.

Golf is a silly game. If you ever want a good laugh, watch Robin Williams’ monologue on the genesis of golf in Scotland. It’s profane, it’s ribald, it’s maniacal, but it will make you laugh until you cry. Just like the game itself.

Congratulations, Rory!

I’ll be right back.

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Victory Gardens – Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow By Nancy Taylor Robson

April 11, 2025 by Spy Desk 4 Comments

“Covid really brought it up again,” says Master Gardener Eileen Clements.

A way to feed yourself – and maybe share extra lettuce, a few Gadzukes squash, Cherokee Purple tomatoes or Aji Limon hot peppers with your neighbors or friends. Victory Gardens – or their current iteration – can offer a sense of control in a time of uncertainty.

“A garden is a place of hope,” Clements says.

She’s right. Even more, a garden can offer help for that most basic of needs: Food. Covid lockdown increased the number of gardeners exponentially. Suddenly food production, distribution and availability weren’t taken for granted. Seed companies sold out, garden centers were besieged, and even apartment dwellers had a pot of lettuce or herbs sitting on a balcony or sunny windowsill. We didn’t call them victory gardens, but the small sense of triumph they offered in a world that had gone pear-shaped was therapeutic.

Victory Gardens have a long history. Introduced to the American public in 1917 when we entered WWI, they were a way for civilians to help win the war by growing food for the troops.

A startling percentage of recruits were rejected due to malnutrition, and the adage: An army marches on its stomach is not apocryphal. Destruction of food production and subsequent starvation have long been tactics of war.

“Farms were getting battered and blown up, and we cared enough to send food and help our allies,” Clements notes.

During the Depression, they were termed ‘thrift gardens’ without the patriotic overtones, but with WWII came rationing, and Victory Gardens were once again a way to supplement both military and civilian. Vegetable gardens sprouted up on every available piece of soil. First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt planted a Victory Garden on the White House lawn in 1943.

“Victory Gardens became a source of civic pride and a way to show patriotism,” says Clements.

“I understand where the name ‘victory garden’ comes from,” says Master Gardener Shane Brill. “And I appreciate the tradition of people uniting against a common adversary.” But he says it might be time to rename them. “Maybe Resilience Garden,” he says. “Gardens can be a source of empowerment and resilience in local communities.”

Michelle Obama planting The White House Victory Garden

Former First Lady Michelle Obama planted a vegetable garden at the White House to encourage better nutrition, especially among children. Post-White House, the Obamas are building The Eleanor Roosevelt Fruit and Vegetable Garden at the Obama Presidential Center.

Though the White House was a special case, gardens – especially community gardens in pockets that would otherwise lie derelict – are almost sacrosanct to many. During the 1992 Rodney King riots, South Central Los Angeles was sacked, but the community gardens there were left untouched. Closer to home, Baltimore’s tucked-away community gardens in edgy neighborhoods are also places of special protection. A kind of victory over discouragement and frustration.

Part of the victory is simply encouraging people to reconnect with the “primal-ness” of gardening. “I do a lot of work in nutrition,” says Brill, director of Washington College’s campus garden who teaches courses in culinary wellness, fermentation, and ecological design. “Sunlight and movement are such powerful levers for our wellbeing. I think food is our most intimate connection to the natural world, and the garden is our gateway to that.”

“There’s something about knowing what it takes to produce food,” adds Master Gardener Barbara Flook. Flook, whose parents had a big vegetable garden, planted her own as soon as she had her first house. “Also, when you grow your own food, you think wasting it is a sin.”

Like Flook, Master Gardener Sara Bedwell was the child of farmers and gardeners, but got into growing food more seriously as a paid intern at Wye Manor’s gardens in 2014. She then went on to work as the vegetable gardener at Camp Pecometh’s 2-acre chef’s garden.

“When I left Wye Manor, the horticulturist there gave me The New Vegetable Grower’s Handbook by Frank Tozer,” she remembers. “It’s the one book I’ve kept, and it’s got my little notes in it.“

Always hungry for more knowledge, Bedwell had wanted the education the Master Gardener program offers but couldn’t coordinate the course timing with her work schedule – until Covid when the course went all-online. She saw her opportunity.

“I had wanted to expand my knowledge, and I like volunteering,” she says. “For me, it was being able to learn new things and then be able to spread that knowledge to the community.”

Bedwell, who works two jobs, is also in the process of clearing two acres in large part to grow food Meanwhile, she grows in buckets ‘cause she’s gotta eat.

“I can be picky,” she says. “Lettuce from the store doesn’t taste as good as what I grow.” “I do not like store-bought tomatoes at all, but if I grow them, I like them.”

Picking your own basil, tomatoes, squash, and more is also both economical and satisfying. Once Bedwell has the plantable acreage she anticipates, there will be plenty to eat, preserve, and share with friends, neighbors and perhaps the local Food Bank.

“The whole idea of a victory garden, even if you’re growing something for yourself and have too much, you pass it on,” Clements notes.

Whatever we call it – victory, thrift, community, or resilience – a garden embodies hope.

Artist: Eileen Clements

PAR -Plant a Row for the hungry

https://community.gardencomm.org/c/about-par/

Resources:

Boswell, Victor R. (1943) Victory Gardens. USDA Miscellaneous Publication No. 483.

Collection of the National Agricultural Library.

“Victory Gardens on the World War II Home Front.” National Park Service. www.nps.gov

“Victory Garden at the National Museum of American History.” Smithsonian Institute. www.gardens.si.edu

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Between the Sky and Sea: The art of Jacqui Crocetta & Susan Hostetler

April 4, 2025 by James Dissette Leave a Comment

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MassoniArt presents Between the Sky and Sea, a collaborative installation by Jacqui Crocetta and Susan Hostetler that explores the profound connection between the ocean and migratory birds—a fragile, interdependent relationship at the heart of our planet’s ecosystems.

The exhibition combines Hostetler’s delicately sculpted birds with Crocetta’s evocative ocean-inspired paintings to illuminate the beauty and vulnerability of these natural forces. Together, their work celebrates the migratory cycle while advocating for the protection of both marine and avian life.

The collaboration took flight when the artists shared their vision with gallery owner Carla Massoni. “After telling Carla about our idea, she immediately suggested we present the work at MassoniArt,” they said. “We were thrilled for the opportunity. It’s unusual for commercial galleries to support experimental work, but Carla is deeply committed to environmental advocacy.”

Crocetta’s socially engaged practice draws attention to the environmental crisis and the human condition, while celebrating resilience and the capacity for healing. “The mindset of interconnectedness is the foundation of my work,” she says.

Between the Sky and Sea offers an immersive experience that is both poetic and urgent—reminding us of the delicate balance sustaining life on Earth, and our responsibility to protect it.

The Spy talked with Jacqui Crocetta & Susan Hostetler last week about working together for the installation.

Chestertown First Friday
April 4 | 5:00–7:00 PM. The show continues through April
MassoniArt, 113 South Cross Street

This video is approximately six minutes in length.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Jaded By Jamie Kirkpatrick

March 25, 2025 by Jamie Kirkpatrick Leave a Comment

Words are strange beasts. Take ‘jade’ for example. It can refer to a brilliant green gem or stone, revered in China for its durability as well as its propensity to bring good luck. Or it might refer to the jade plant, flora’s manifestation of fortitude and fortune. Go to any Chinese restaurant worth its MSG and I bet you’ll find a jade plant somewhere near the cash register. Now consider jade’s adjectival form, ‘jaded.’ Its connotation is almost the exact opposite of its plant or mineral cousin. To be ‘jaded’ means you’re tired, played-out, disillusioned or cynical, as in, (just for example), “the public has become jaded by all the political shenanigans taking place in Washington these days.”

Etymology is the study of the origin of words and the way in which their meanings have changed over time. I mused (of course, I did) about how ‘jade,’ durable and lucky jade, had morphed into ‘jaded,’ it’s worn down, disinterested, unenthusiastic, “I’ve-seen-this-all-before” cousin. As it usually does, a little research went a long way, and it turns out that back in the day, a ‘jade’ was another name for a tired, old horse. Now we were getting somewhere: to be ‘jaded’ was to be a tired old horse, in other words, a nag ready for the glue factory.

Since I’m feeling a bit jaded these days, that thought made me shudder. Am I ready for the glue factory? I sure hope not! Maybe I’m just overexposed to all the consternation, confusion, and chaos emanating from Washington these days. I listen to the news and sigh; I roll my eyes, shake my head, and think, “How much longer, Lord? I’ve experienced too much of this already and it’s only March! I don’t know if I can take another forty months of this wilderness.”

I doubt I’m alone in this. I also recognize that many other of my fellow-Americans aren’t the least bit jaded. In fact, they’re feeling energized, glad to be back in the driver’s seat, finally getting rid of all this governmental waste and left-wing tomfoolery once and for all. And that thought makes me feel all the more…jaded. Sigh.

I have a lot of friends who have opted out of paying attention to the news. I understand that. But then an image pops into my mind—an ostrich with its head in the sand—and I know from experience that ignoring a problem doesn’t make it go away. Better to seek and find a solution and figure out how to prevent it from happening again. Simple enough for some of life’s travesties, much harder for others.

It turns out that an ostrich never really puts its head in the sand. That’s a myth. Think about it: if ostriches really did stick their heads in the sand to avoid imminent danger, there wouldn’t be any ostriches walking around today. I assume the same can be said for people. It’s far better to look around and see what’s really happening than to pretend that everything will be hunky-dory when I take my head out of this hole.

A year ago—maybe more—a friend gifted me a jade plant. Maybe she thought it would bring me luck or maybe she thought I looked a little jaded. I didn’t pay much attention to the plant for several months, but then I began to tend it and now it’s thriving. In fact, It’s going to need a bigger pot soon. So maybe I’m not so jaded after all.

I’ll be right back.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

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