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Maryland Youth Referee of the Year award makes dad proud

“When you’re a kid, you always think I want to be like my dad,” says 17-year-old Griffin Tucker. As a kid, Griffin ran around his house, blowing his dad’s whistle and throwing yellow and red penalty cards left and right. Dad Garrett Tucker loved soccer, so son Griffin did, too.

            Griffin began playing soccer at five years old. At 12, when he became eligible to referee youth soccer, he went out and got his reffing certificate right away. It was only natural that Griffin try out what his dad had loved to do for so many years.

            As a referee, Griffin gets a new perspective on the sport.

            “There are four perspectives at a soccer game,” the rising Southern High School senior explains. “There is the perspective of the soccer players, that of the parents and bystanders, the perspective of the coaches and then there’s me. As a ref, I see a completely different game.”

            In an average game, he runs between five and seven miles. If the physical challenge was the greatest one, almost any athlete could complete the job. But what Griffin finds most demanding as a referee is the mental investment. A ref has many heads turning to look at what he is going to call.

            With 22 players on the field, double that number in parents and observers and two sets of coaches all depending on one person to make the correct call, a lot of pressure resides on the referee.

            In less than a half-second, Griffin must make a call that can determine the outcome of the rest of the game. “I am not perfect,” he says, “but I try to make the correct calls to the best of my ability.”

            Getting paid $25 to $50 a game is an added bonus, he says, because soccer is a sport “you either like or you love.”

            Stepping onto the field for a game a few Saturdays back, Griffin knew his job would not be an easy one. One organization had split into two teams after a disagreement, and the rend was not mended. What Griffin didn’t know was that more was at stake than two semifinal teams competing for the state championship.

            Tensions were high, and emotions were even higher as former teammates competed against one another for this important win. After 90 minutes, two winners emerged. Griffin had performed so well in that game that Maryland’s Youth Referee Administrator, Jeff Gontarek, awarded him the title of Maryland Young Male Referee of the Year.

            Next month Griffin referees the Youth Regionals — with maybe even the nationals in his near future.

            Dad Garrett Tucker understand the responsibility this carries. “The referee has the game in his hands.”

American Legion Post 206 historian seeks and shares the stories of those who served

      You would sit down cautiously with Fred Bumgarner at a poker table (usage of which can neither be denied nor confirmed) at the Stallings-Williams American Legion Post 206 in Chesapeake Beach. His gaze does not betray his thoughts. But the tight-handed former naval cryptologist is flush with heart when it comes to remembering our past and present veterans — even the ones whose only legacy is their discharge papers.
       “I was going through old files,” Bumgarner says, “and asking fellas, Who was this guy? What was his story? Sometimes I could find out something, and sometimes I couldn’t. But it always hit me hard that we didn’t find out before they were gone from us.”
      Bumgarner, 70, has been an American Legion member for 44 years. Since coming to Calvert County in 1980, he’s held several positions at Post 206, with membership in the 800s. Since becoming its historian two years ago, Bumgarner contributes Untold Stories to the Post’s quarterly newsletter: paragraph-sized biographical snippets gleaned from DD-214 discharge papers and membership cards. They are informative, anonymous, way too short, somewhat saddening, yet an inspirational source for reflection of the sacrifices made by the men and women of our military forces.
      I was a WWII Army veteran serving in the Pacific …
      I was a Korean War veteran flying missions in the Air Force …
      I was a Marine veteran of Vietnam from 1963 …
      “It means a lot more than it says,” Bumgarner reminds us. “It’s not a lot of info, but it’s something that we can document for these men and women who served their country.”
      Every once in a while, Bumgarner gets the whole story. He feels especially grateful to interview a veteran whose stories wouldn’t otherwise have a home.
       “I meet a lot of great people with some absolutely astonishing real-life stories, and I’m compelled to get them written down,” the biographer says.
      Bumgarner sees veterans as a whole no matter where they are from, no matter who they may be. His story collection is broad, inclusive and intriguing. Here are Memorial Day snippets of stories Bumgarner has written from interviews with three local veterans.
 
J Rosalie Hanley-Safreed J
Women’s Army Corps
     Rosalie was born on Armistice Day, November 11, 1920, just two years after the end of World War I, a conflict in which her father, Daniel J. Hanley, served. She and her three brothers were raised in Benwood, West Virginia, along the Ohio River in coal and steel country near Wheeling. 
      Rosalie failed her initial physical to join the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps, but she was eventually accepted and became one of the first of 150,000 women who would serve in the WAACs renamed the Women’s Army Corps in July, 1943.
      She was the WAC editor of newsletters at both the Fort Des Moines and Mitchel Field, on Long Island.
      As the wounded arrived on stretchers, she and other WACs used their time off to help the Army nurses tend their patients. The wounded often attracted high-level VIPs, including movie stars and politicians. Rosalie was thrilled to meet Gary Cooper and Bob Hope. She also got to meet First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt. 
      In July 1944, while stationed at Mitchel Field, Rosalie received word that her brother Duke was killed in action at St. Lo, France, in the Normandy invasion. In 2011, Rosalie traveled to Normandy, visited the areas where Duke had served and was given a medal and award by the French government in honor of her brother for his ultimate sacrifice and the liberation of France from the Germans.
      At 96, Rosalie is still going strong.
      When you think of the changes our society has been through in her lifetime, it really makes you stop and take notice. Women are now an accepted and valued component of all volunteer forces, and with some exceptions, they serve on an equal footing with their male counterparts.
–Fred Bumgarner
 
J Walter Dubicki J
Polish Refugee, British Army, United States Navy
       Walter was born in Rudinia, Poland, on February 8, 1935. In 1943, during World War II, the German Army relocated his family to various slave labor camps in Nazi Germany, splitting them up. He remembers they were forced to burn down their own farm before leaving. 
      They were loaded onto cattle cars and sent to camps at Dortmund and later Siegen, both northwest of Frankfurt. It was a coal-mining region; Germany used more than 15 million people as slave laborers during the war, amounting to 20 percent of the German workforce.
       After the war, first the English and then Americans took control of their Displaced Persons camp. His father was a cook for the soldiers. As a young boy he remembers he and his brother Johnny standing in the food lines with the GIs. They lived off the care packages provided by the American Army. 
       After the war, Walter joined the British Army and went to boot camp as part of an all-Polish unit. They lived in former German POW barracks and were given jobs as guards or performed other work around the camp. He served for five years.
       From a young age he had a gift for languages, learning Polish, Russian, Ukrainian, English and German. He eventually transferred from the British Army to the U.S. Navy and took citizenship and English language classes.
       He was relocated to Le Havre, France, where he learned that family members — already resettled in the United States — were sponsoring him for U.S. citizenship as a war refugee. He boarded the SS United States at Le Harve and made the July 1952 crossing in record time. 
       In 1956, he joined the U.S. Navy, where he served for eight years as a machinist mate on various vessels including the USS Randolph (CVA-15), USS Blandy (DD-943) and USS Decatur (DD-945). While on the USS Blandy, Walter became involved in the Cuban Missile Crisis in late October and early November 1962.
     On October 30, the Blandy, working with patrol aircraft, established radar contact with a surfaced Russian Foxtrot class submarine (B-130). The B-130 submerged and for the next 14 hours the Blandy tracked the sub and eventually forced it to the surface. At the time, it was not known that four submarines carried nuclear tipped torpedoes and that the Soviet navy had given authorization for their use in the event of attacks by U.S. vessels.
     During this engagement, Blandy commanding officer Edward G. ‘Shotgun’ Kelley relied on Walter as a Russian interpreter. At one point Walter spoke directly to Bobby Kennedy, the U.S. Attorney General and brother to JFK, relaying the Soviet sub commander’s intentions to the executive committee at the White House. Experiencing troubles with her diesel engines, the Russian sub turned and headed away from Cuba, closely monitored by the U.S. task force.
       After Walter’s discharge on November 17, 1964, he got a job in New York helping build the World Trade Center towers. When the second tower was 85 percent complete, his company relocated him to Washington, D.C., where it was building the new Soviet embassy. In his spare time he pursued a private pilot’s license with former WWII Navy fighter ace Robert A. Clark Jr. and later formed his own construction company with Clark, Dubicki and Clark.
       He joined Post 206 when he moved to Fairhaven, where he lived until his death in February, 2018.
–Fred Bumgarner
 
 
J Ronald C. Heister J
U.S. Naval Submariner
      In December of 2014, I attended a viewing at a local funeral home for the father of a friend and former coworker of my wife. I had never met the gentleman, Ronald Heister, but I was aware that he was a resident at Charlotte Hall Veterans Home in St. Mary’s County. After leaving the funeral home that evening, I could not get this veteran’s story out of my head, so I would like to share it with you. I think you will agree that it is quite a tale of service and fate.
      The first thing I noticed was a dress-blue Navy jumper in a frame standing next to the coffin, with the insignia of a Storekeeper 2nd Class on the sleeve. A small picture of a very young couple was at the bottom of the frame with a note indicating that it was taken in early 1942 at the time the couple became engaged and just before he had shipped out to the Pacific to serve aboard the USS Pompano. There were two hats in the coffin: one an American Legion hat with the words Rock Hall for his home Post 228 on Maryland’s Eastern Shore; the other a baseball cap with USS Pompano, SS-181 emblazoned in gold letters.
        When the Pompano headed out on patrol July 28, 1943, Heister had remained at the naval base with severe dental problems. The Pompano never returned from that mission. 
        On a website dedicated to the memory of the crew is a notation that Heister “was ashore for some dental work and was not with his shipmates when their boat was lost. He lives for the memory of the men he served with.”
       As I looked over the room at three generations of his family, I thought what a wonderful outcome, but I also thought of the burden that Heister carried in silence for the remainder of his life.
–Fred Bumgarner

How handwriting analysis helped me forgive my mother — and myself

A Mother’s Day story by Jane Elkin
 
        On March 3, 2004, I boarded a plane for New Hampshire to sit vigil at my mother’s deathbed. Waiting at the gate, I wrote this page in my diary. It’s the lyrics to Nella Fantasia (In My Fantasy), a Sarah Brightman song that haunted me for two months and was the last music my mother ever heard, my final gift before singing at her funeral. 
       I didn’t want to do it, but Mom insisted, and she usually got what she wanted. So I fixed my eyes on a stained glass window and focused on my job — because you can’t sing and cry at the same time.
      In my writing, you can see what depression looks like: black, blotchy, and  sinking. I remember consciously choosing the marker because it matched my mood that day. Normally, I wrote optimistically rising lines in a fine blue ballpoint. “Keep on the sunny side” was more than a cliché in my life. It was how my mother raised me.
      As a toddler, my favorite song was about seven little girls sitting in the back seat, kissing and a-hugging with bread, or so I thought. “Mama, sing Snoopy Eyes,” I would prompt, as in “Keep your snoopy eyes on the road ahead!” Always she complied. It was our special car song. Sometimes I even got a slice of buttered bread sprinkled with sugar. 
        We had a song for everything. When I couldn’t remember her birthday, she said to remember Alan Sherman’s liverwurst: been there since October 1, and today is the 23rd of May! We climbed Mt. Washington to the theme from The Bridge on the River Kwai. When I started dating, her soundtrack became In My Little Red Book. 
      I adored her for 13 years and, because of her influence, wanted to be a singer and music teacher. It was all I thought I was good at. But she feared I’d wind up broken, like Billie Holliday or Judy Garland, and she was threatened by anything that didn’t fit her parochial vision for my future. A Catholic education seemed safer than public, so she transferred me without notice from the best performing arts school in the state to the worst. I resented her for months.
       That was the first of several dramas in a struggle for autonomy that led me to leave home at 18. Yet I never cut her out of my life, and she never stopped trying to pull my strings. Then she’d go and do something unpredictably wonderful like giving me voice lessons for my 25th birthday. It was complicated.
       When I began singing professionally at the nation’s largest Catholic church a decade later, I don’t know which of us was more proud. But by then, her spirituality had turned to fanaticism. When she asserted the point of my vocal studies was “to better praise God,” I wanted to say “No, I do it for my sake, not His,” but I couldn’t.
      Her snoopy nose was into everything from my music to my wardrobe, parenting style, even the way I changed a trash bag. Had I known her escalating control and petulant rants were symptomatic of an illness, I might have been more understanding. But by the time she was diagnosed with multiple brain tumors, she had just two months to live, and I was torn between grief and relief.
 
Her Hand and Mine
       After she died, I became a certified handwriting analyst. Applying the method to her journals, I saw that she was motivated by a lifelong fear of abandonment and a midlife loneliness I had never realized. I began writing a book and wound up pursuing a degree in creative writing to do the story justice. But I couldn’t move past my own guilt at never having properly mourned.
        “Good writing comes from forgiveness,” my teacher said. “Have you tried looking at your own script?” I had not. I felt sure I knew what I’d been feeling all the time. But there is a difference between being in the moment and reflecting on the moment. What I discovered set me free. 
      Here is my journal entry from the day I learned of my mother’s illness: 
Worse than I’d realized. The Drs. still don’t know the cause at this point. It could be a virus, a disease, or even cancer or a tumor on the brain. He [Dad] was supposed to call me back tonight, but it’s 10:30 …
         The first thing that struck me was the vertical “rivers” of white space between my words, reflecting a sudden loneliness. It was the same isolation I had seen in my mother’s writing when she was my age. The second surprise was the crashing letters in the right-hand margin, a phenomenon common to suicide notes because the right represents the future. The tendency is subtly evident here in the way the words appear to step off a cliff. Considering what lay ahead, I was literally staring death in the face and shrinking from it.
 
Final Gifts
         Four times I drove home, once with a broken tailbone, and was always surprised at her rapid regression. One weekend she was the adult bibliophile I knew; the next, a giggly teen swooning over movie heartthrobs. I felt privileged to meet my mother ‘pre-me’, even when she resembled a toddler, dangling her feet from an invalid’s pottychair and singing Daisy as my own girls had done.
       She liked old hymns, and one day when she no longer could join in, I sang her an original composition. It was my first and had taken years to write. I was nervous about sharing, but still craved her approval and wanted to give one last gift that was uniquely mine. But what if she didn’t like it? It was a bluegrass waltz, and she’d always hated country music. 
      She listened silently to all three verses, and as the final guitar chord died away, I dared ask her opinion. For once, all she said was “beautiful,” and that was her final gift to me. 
      Three weeks later, as she lay semi-comatose, I crowned her with my earphones and played Arvo Pärt’s Magnificat and Nella Fantasia, the most heavenly moving-on music I knew. She ahhhed as one sinking into a hot bath, her feet quivering like those of an infant smiling with her whole body. 
       Within hours her sporadic breathing turned to a death rattle that drove me from the room. I was ashamed of my weakness and kept the baby monitor low that night as I slept in another room, only to be awakened by the grey buzz of its mechanical silence and the fleeting sensation of her presence, which I felt as a slumbering child feels a goodnight kiss. 
      The purge of beige fluid trickling from her mouth when I found her told me all I needed to know. I closed her wide and vacant eyes, kissed her warm forehead and moved trancelike to the phone where the hospice number was posted in fat black figures. With shaking hands I misdialed three times. Then a voice answered, and I lost mine.
 
 
Jane Elkin is a former music teacher, chorister at The Basilica of the National Shrine and co-founder of The Renaissance Singers of Annapolis and Trinitas. She expects to complete her MFA at Bennington Writing Seminars in January. 

Unique charity helps locals adopt a child and support a widow

      Kadee Corley waits for her phone to ring. The call she expects will change her life, and the lives of her husband Bryan and their seven-year-old son Bryce. Forever.
       They are waiting to hear if the next member of their family is ready to come home. To Odenton. From Bulgaria.
      “We struggled trying to get pregnant with our first child, and after three miscarriages we finally had our beautiful son,” says Kadee.
      Two years later, they discovered Kadee had premature ovarian failure.
       The Corleys began the arduous process of adoption over a year ago.
“We decided to adopt from ­Bulgaria since the process is pretty quick compared to domestic adoptions,” Kadee explained. “Once a match is made, it is just a month or two later that we get to bring a child home.”
       Still, piles of paperwork stand between the Corleys and their new child.
“We have done the home study, filled out all the papers, but now we are dealing with lots of tiny technicalities in the records,” Kadee says.
       On top of the waiting, the Corleys are also feeling adoption’s financial pinch.       They have spent nearly $40,000, refinanced their house, then turned to their community for help.
      “This is our journey as a family,” Kadee says. “It felt really strange to be asking people for money to bring our child home to us.”
       The family wanted to raise money by doing something with a purpose. Online, they found a nonprofit organization called The Both Hands Project. 
      “It was a perfect fit,” Kadee says. 
      Both Hands helps adoptive families raise funds to cover expenses; the familes, in turn, agree to help a widow in need. A family gathers a team of volunteers and Both Hands coaches them to coordinate a service project fixing up a widow’s home. The family and their team also send letters out to raise sponsorship for their day of service. Those funds support the adoption.
       Once the Corleys had their how, they had to find a who.
       “A lot of people thought it was a scam. They couldn’t believe that someone was volunteering to do all this hard work for them for nothing in return,” Kadee says.
       Eventually they found Mary ­Hellman of Deale. 
      “She was under our nose the whole time,” Kadee says. “We initially asked her daughter, who is also a widow, if we could help her, and she sent us straight to her mother instead.”
      The Corleys gathered a group of 25 volunteers, donated supplies and all the elbow grease they could muster to spend 12 hours on an April Saturday working on Hellman’s house and yard.
       Kadee enumerates a long list of projects:
      “We repainted her living room, foyer and dining room; put new shingles on the roof, which was damaged from a recent wind storm; built a ramp and added electricity to her shed; built a new front porch, replaced deck railing and painted the entire back porch; repainted the exterior trim of the house and shed; weeded, mulched and planted an entire garden in front of the house, cleaned out planter boxes and filled them with donated flowers and plants.
      “We filled an entire dumpster of debris,” she says. “We even repurposed some of her late waterman husband’s belongings into décor so she could keep those memories of him.”
       Hellman has, in turn, grown close to the Corley family.
      The Corleys still need to raise $12,000 to completely cover the adoption costs, so their project is still seeking donations: www.bothhands.org/corley-403.

One closes (for now); two open

       Finding a public library in Annapolis this spring has become a lot more interesting.
      The 53-year-old Annapolis Library on West Street is now closed, its building scheduled for demolition. With a new library planned for that same spot — and several pop-ups already open — Annapolitans don’t have to look too far for their public library fix. The Annapolis Library is making its temporary home in Monarch Academy on Capital Drive. And a library experiment has just opened in the Westfield Annapolis Mall. 
       The new Annapolis Monarch Library, opened April 16, is off West Street on Capital Drive, with helpful signs pointing you in the right direction. The library and Monarch Academy charter school share the same building, but the library has its own and separate parking spaces and wing.
       In the entryway, you’ll see large renderings of the digitalized plans for the future public library.
      Past the entry, the library exists as one spacious, airy room, with help desks right at the front and a large children’s section past the stacks. Library staff are eager to answer questions about their new home. 
      Gloria Davis Harberts, regional manager for the area, is accommodating and ready to help patrons out of any confusion. 
      “We had people lining up outside before we opened,” Harberts told me. 
      Almost 9,000 items are already in the Monarch location, and the hold shelves are filling up with requests. 
       Harberts wants to make sure the library’s stay in Monarch brings in more users than ever. Class trips  through the library with Monarch Academy students are already a hit.
       “Some of the students have never been to a public library before,” she says. 
       Creating enthusiastic students and making libraries fun are two goals Harberts hopes to meet. 
 
 
A New Discovery
     Nowadays, you can also go to the library when you’re at the mall. Discoveries: the library at Westfield Annapolis Mall, opened April 30. The 3,000-square-foot space is nestled next to Crate and Barrel in the west wing of the mall, across from the Under Armour store.
     “We believe this new library will open many people’s eyes to what a modern library is and does,” Anne Arundel County Public Library chief Skip Auld says. “Public libraries have transformed from simply being places where people pick up their reading or viewing or listening materials to places where people gather to see friends and neighbors and make new friends, to learn from programs.”
      Technology and entertainment play a large role in this space, with a 3D printer, laptop rentals, self checkout, free movie streaming and online tutoring. 
      New Discoveries branch manager Rachael Myers and her team have lots of new programs in the works, many focused on children and teens. There will be early literacy programs and a Discovery Dock children’s area, along with a bilingual reading corner every Tuesday morning.
      To help make the library a creative community, the Annapolis Arts Alliance has partnered with Discoveries Library to showcase local art in the space. The pieces will be changed regularly to feature new artists and new types of art.
      The Discoveries Library is also more accessible to readers and shoppers with Saturday hours, 10am-5pm. 
      “This branch is completely separate and different from the Monarch Academy space,” says Library Communications Manager Christine Feldmann. It has a very different atmosphere. “We hope to prove that bringing a library into an already highly trafficked area will expose the library to new customers and reengage those that haven’t used a library in a while.” 
      Discoveries will be open until the end of 2019. Depending on the success of this space, the library could make another home at the Westfield Mall. 
 
What to Expect
       The new library on West Street is planned to open in late 2019 or early 2020. 
       The new 32,500-square-foot library will be built where the old library stood, the lot now enlarged from 3.9 acres to 4.7 acres. 
       To serve the needs of a changing community, the new building will have a section for tutoring, large computer stations, separate meeting spaces of different sizes and a business center equipped with tools and services such as shared office space.
     There will also be a vending area for snacks and drinks, expanded children’s spaces with comfortable seating and a tinker lab for workshops and classes. 
 
Test It Out
       As a new Annapolitan, I signed up for a library card while I was asking questions. I figured it was a good test of the new Annapolis Library at Monarch 
       After walking through the stacks of fantasy and fiction, I approached the help desk and asked for a card. 
      Five minutes later I was a new library cardholder with all the information I needed. I spotted an interesting-looking new thriller on the staff picks shelf, checked it out and took it home where it’s mine … for seven days.

Like their owners, wooden boats don’t live forever. But the 1948 Trumpy yacht Counterpoint survives piece by salvaged piece

      The Trumpy yacht Counterpoint waited dry-docked at Herrington Harbor North for the right person to come along and shine her up, clean her decks and splash her into the water again. That person would have to match the dedication and vision of her former owner, William Watkins, who passed away in 2015.
      As wooden boat enthusiasts know, caring for a ship like this is equal parts passion, grueling work and money. They agree, nonetheless, that wooden boats deserve a second chance at life. Not all can be returned to their original state, but all deserve to be repurposed and reimagined to earn a new kind of glory.
       Wooden boats seem to have a soul, a passion of their own that infects their keepers. Maybe it’s the way the hull groans and hums when it races through changing waters. Maybe it’s the satisfaction of seeing the clouds reflected in a perfectly varnished piece of teak. Whatever it is, wooden boats embody nostalgia.
      With their unmistakable flared bows that gently pull the water away from the boat as they glide along the Bay, Trumpy yachts are remarkable examples of desire for another time. Or, in the case of the Watkins family and Counterpoint, more time. 
 
Another Time
     John J. Trumpy & Sons moved from Gloucester City, N.J., to Annapolis in 1947. The Trumpy yacht yard sat where Charthouse Restaurant now serves its fare on Second Street in the Eastport neighborhood of Annapolis.
       Originally built for Francis V. DuPont in 1948, Counterpoint featured the flared bow of Trumpy yachts that allowed for a smoother ride through choppy waters. Its double-hull construction promised both longevity and durability. Teak decking and mahogany planking combined with brass hardware and chrome instruments made this stylish boat fit for the family that commissioned it and a worthy dream for a lover of the Bay. 
      Eventually the 58-foot yacht was purchased by William Watkins, a Marylander whose life always seemed to lead him back to the water. As a young boy, Watkins would head down to the Colchester section of Baltimore and watch the ships. 
      At 17, Watkins convinced his parents to let him join the Navy. In World War II’s Pacific theater, he served on the destroyer escort Abercrombie, which provided support during attacks on the Philippines and Okinawa.
      Returning from the war, Watkins went on to be a mariner for Standard Oil. Later he owned the Forest Inn in Reisterstown, a restaurant renowned for its crab cakes. Patrons could charter the restaurant’s boat, Freedom II. This 46-foot fishing boat with central air soon became a favorite of industry leaders in East Baltimore and reinvigorated Watkins’ passion for being on the water. 
 
Soul Mate
      Counterpoint joined Watkins’s small fleet in 1974. Berthing her at the Trumpy yacht house in Annapolis, he managed to keep the purchase a secret from his wife for nearly two years, before Charlie Satchell, who ran the boathouse, let the truth slip during a phone call. When Watkins’ wife Barbara answered and denied that the boat was theirs, the jig was up.
      “Counterpoint was his mistress,” explained son Scott Watkins in a phone interview. “She was representative of a time when things were done with style and beauty and had a story. Boats have a soul, and she was my father’s soulmate.”
      Diagnosed with leukemia, Barbara died when she was 43. Her passing left Watkins responsible for the restaurant and raising the kids. Counterpoint became a refuge. 
      As the years passed, time took its toll on boat and owner. Watkins continued to work on the boat for as long as he was able, but when the maintenance grew too difficult and costly, Watkins decided to haul the boat out, still holding on to the hope that he — or someone — might restore her. 
       Counterpoint was towed from her berth with her 83-year-old master on a misty, bitter March morning in 2012. “It was like seeing two old institutions,” Scott said, “sailing for the last time together.” It took nearly 24 hours to deliver the boat to its new home at Herrington Harbour North Marina. 
       Watkins died in 2015 at the age of 85. Counterpoint decayed in place.
       “Over the years, the Watkins family and Herrington Harbour North pursued virtually every avenue to find someone who wanted to restore Counterpoint,” said Herrington’s Hamilton Chaney. 
 
One More Time
      Salvage became the best and, Chaney says, “the only option to save a part of this important piece of maritime history.”
      Piece by piece, Watkins’ Counterpoint has been dismantled. Thus far, nearly all of the mahogany planking from the hull’s stern and starboard has been salvaged as well as 25 pounds of screws, two five-blade propellers, both rudders and a companionway in need of a little cleaning. 
     “It’s a good compromise,” said Scott Watkins of the fate of his father’s beloved Counterpoint. “Boats like her are a representation of the soul and history of the region. It’s so necessary that they aren’t forgotten.”
A Bay Weekly conversation with Annapolis Mayor Gavin Buckley 
      Before running for mayor of Annapolis, restaurateur Gavin Buckley ran in high heels and a skirt during a men-in-high-heels sprint at the 2015 Annapolis Fringe Festival. That was nothing out of the ordinary for the South African-born Buckley, who grew up in Perth, West Australia. 
        Ever since coming ashore in Annapolis in 1992, Buckley has been a proponent of all things local, the arts and West Street. He has exerted influence through his ownership and management of several restaurants, Tsunami, Lemongrass and Metropolitan among them. Some of what he’s done has stuck, as did his victory in redefining what’s permissible in Annapolis’ historic district. He cites his controversy with the city’s Historic Preservation Commission over the Agony and Ecstasy mural painted on the exterior of Tsunami as one reason he ran for mayor. Other things — a dog park near upper West Street — never took hold. 
       Buckley’s enthusiasm and vision are forces to be reckoned with. He wants to make Annapolis into an arts, gastronomic, historic and sailing destination. If he can maintain and expand support from the city’s 39,000 residents and thousands more who live outside the city’s 8.1 square miles, many of the ideas he favors could gain enough traction to change the face of the 10th oldest city in the United States.
       Bay Weekly spoke to Buckley about three months into his first year as mayor. The interview that follows has been edited for length and clarity.
 
Bay Weekly You’ve often talked about the dynamic of drawing locals in and tourists following. How do you see that working?
Gavin Buckley Starting from the top would be keeping the Sailing Hall of Fame here. We call ourselves the Sailing Capital of America, and if we’re not willing to put our money where our mouth is, we should take the sign down. Whether [the hall of fame is] housed in a boutique hotel or not, the sailing industry, the boating industry need to feel supported by the administration.
        A City Dock boutique hotel is an idea I’m putting forth. Called The Maritime, maybe it could be four stories, maybe it could have a rooftop that looks over Spa Creek, some conference rooms or meeting space above the Sailing Hall of Fame. 
 
Bay Weekly How does that vision extend beyond the boating industry to people who live here?
Gavin Buckley The main thing I want to focus on is the plaza that we create, called Lafayette Square, and how we program that plaza. It would still have to be hardscape that you could fit the Boat Show in, that you could pull a tour bus up to to drop people off and then pull out again. But it should be mainly for pedestrians, and there should be things for pedestrians to do. We’ve taken the team down to the wharf in D.C. to see how they’ve programmed a pretty much blighted waterfront area and turned it around.
        We’re bringing in Fred Kent, a famous place-making guy that was here seven years ago to do another presentation. The next day, we’re going to bring him back, put a big tent at City Dock and have a workshop that anyone will be invited to. That workshop can be about how we feel our public space here wants to look, so it’s organic, it comes from the people who live here. It comes from the locals … And you’re a local if you live in Arnold or Crownsville or Edgewater … it’s still your downtown, so getting people invested in it and committed to it, that’s our goal.
        Going up Main Street, we envision a bike path and a trolley line coming down one side of Main Street. We envision expanding the sidewalk and creating outdoor cafes coming down — on the right-hand side — from the Treaty of Paris all the way to Acme and Chick & Ruths.
 
Bay Weekly City Dock is vulnerable to sea level rise. What measures are you planning to counter rising waters and the issues that come with them?
Gavin Buckley The historic district and the water are two of our greatest assets, but the water is also our greatest threat. We have to be mindful of that or we won’t have a historic district. 
        We’re talking about a nine-foot increase. We have to prepare for that. We will appoint a resiliency officer or director who will focus on how we do that. How we’re going to deal with it is to identify the city’s assets, cultural and physical, and the city’s needs and prepare for the next 50 years. Then we’re going to come up with plans that involve the private sector.
 
Bay Weekly Have you gotten to the hows?
Gavin Buckley We should incentivize an international contest. You look at what they’ve done in the Netherlands and in countries that have had to stop big masses of water. If we put a big idea out there and included the county in the plan, we could do things that involve dikes or things like that that could save massive communities that sit on the Severn River or Spa Creek.
        Take the boutique hotel idea. If we put the parking underground, and we put the last level of parking six, eight, 10 feet above grade, that could be the creation of a sea wall for the historic district, if we decide to go that route.
         Using the private sector will be a big thing for us and bundling, coming up with ideas that are blessed by the city, maybe some even pre-permitted by the city, and taking them to the private sector so that we get civic investment is the goal.
 
Bay Weekly In terms of mitigating climate change, you say you’d like fewer vehicles. How will you move people around?
Gavin Buckley The trolleys — we’d like them to be electric. We would like to audit all the city buildings for efficiencies and try to operate those in terms of that. Getting people out of cars and making it a much more walkable city. We like the Danish model. We like it that half their country goes to work on a bike. So if you make bike paths safe, it’s a consideration. We’ve got two bike bridges planned and pretty neat bike paths that go from the historic district down to the mall and from the Poplar Trail to the B&A Trail, from the library over to Quiet Waters Park. We’ve got a lot of ideas like that that can move people around without burning fossil fuel.
 
Bay Weekly How would the city work with the county to do some of these things?
Gavin Buckley Anne Arundel County Executive Steve Schuh has a ­dedicated bike specialist on staff. He’s been talking about bringing the B&A Trail to the stadium. I have to intersect that with a bike path across College Creek that intersects it from the downtown area. We have to work together — use Open Space money to fund certain things.
 
Bay Weekly How do you foresee integrating green technologies into areas managed by the Historic Preservation Commission? Will that require changes to ordinances?
Gavin Buckley We have to consider substitute materials. We have to consider whether the environment trumps preservation in some things. I’m hoping to appoint somebody with that kind of experience on the historic preservation board soon. Then maybe somebody with a building background, too, who understands changes from that angle.
 
Bay Weekly How do you propose integrating more of the city’s history into everyday spaces to develop a greater sense of community?
Gavin Buckley The Market House is going to be a central area for everybody in the town, whatever race, rich or poor, I think it’s going to be a town center again.
        We need to do events that are inclusive. We’ve done that on West Street, and we should do that downtown as well. Kids in marginalized communities should get to see role models who’ve come out of this town and done great things, and know what a rich history we have. We have a mural coming up, Daniel Hale Williams coming to West Street, near Asbury United Methodist Church. He wasn’t just the first African American, but the first person to do successful heart surgery. Another mural we’re trying to do is Thurgood Marshall next to the courthouse. And another is [local DJ] Hoppy Adams; Chick & Ruths is another wall where we can do that. So just some inspirational characters who’ve come out of here. 
 
Bay Weekly You’ve mentioned wanting to create a no-discharge zone all around Annapolis.
Gavin Buckley We’re formulating it with the county because they’re on the same page. I want people to realize that we care about the water. This is a good place to swim. I get frustrated when people say, I’m not swimming there. I’m not eating anything from there. Cities and countries all over the planet with waters all around industrial towns bring them back to pristine condition. We should be fighting for that, too. With Steve Schuh, we’re working on legalities and how we craft it. I know it’s going to affect some boating businesses, but I think we’ll gain more than we’ll lose. 
 
Bay Weekly Through what specific ways do you intend to bring people together?
Gavin Buckley We all need to get to know each other a lot better. My staff are diverse. We are inclusive — age-inclusive, race-inclusive, sexual preference-inclusive. It’s about leadership and how you conduct yourself. Events are diverse. We just did a big plaque at City Hall that celebrates all the elected African American officials in city government; the first-ever elected African American in the state of Maryland was a city councilor. Next we’re going to do another plaque next to that for all the women that have been voted to city council — and just start to draw attention to the fact that other people have worked much harder to get there as opposed to us old white guys. I get mad at old white guys, then I realize I am one. (Laughs.)
 
Bay Weekly Which cities do you look toward for the things you would like to do?
Gavin Buckley The Austins, the Boulders, the Charlestons, the Burlingtons, the Ashevilles. Even locally, Frederick’s done well the last couple of decades. I read up on different mayors and best practices. If I see a good idea, I bring it to our team and see what they think.
 
Bay Weekly Speaking of ideas …
Gavin Buckley We love ideas. Just because we put an idea out there doesn’t mean it’s going to happen; it’s the start of a conversation. I defi­nitely don’t surround myself with people that just think the same way I do. I need other people’s perspectives. If the majority of people don’t like something, we don’t do it. But I think we have a lot of untapped potential and need to try things.
 
Bay Weekly What’s the best way for people to reach you?
Gavin Buckley [email protected] We go through the emails every couple of days, or if there’s a meeting needed, set them up.

Our heritage, our legacy

      Anne Arundel County’s celebration of Maryland Day, officially March 25, shifts to a hopefully sunnier, warmer weekend this year.
      April 6 thru 8, we celebrate our shared stake in the territory and body politic planted 384 years ago on March 25, 1634, when Lord Baltimore’s colonists made land on a tiny island in a big river in an unknown world: Maryland Day.
      Friday thru Sunday, honor the anniversary of our state by visiting historical and cultural sites in the Four Rivers Heritage Area and across Anne Arundel County. Many activities are free or only $1. 
 
Annapolis Drum and Bugle Corps 
at Susan Campbell Park
Start off Maryland Day with a spirit-lifting flag raising ceremony by the award-winning USNA League Cadets of the Training Ship Mercedes, with music by the Annapolis Drum and Bugle Corps.
Saturday, April 7, 10am, City Dock, Annapolis
 
Annapolis in 100 Memorials
Celebrate Maryland Day with a 2.1-mile walk thru the Historic District with lifelong Annapolitan and experienced Watermark guide Squire Richard. Today’s journey, highlighting 11 local monuments, was inspired by a 1997 conference that brought conservators of outdoor monuments to Annapolis. Tour follows flag ceremony.
Saturday, April 7, 10:30am, Susan Campbell Park, City Dock
 
Annapolis Maritime Museum
Many of the oysters we eat are Made in Maryland. Learn how oysters go from creek to plate with hands-on activities, crafts for kids and Chesapeake critters. 
April 6-8, 11am-3pm, 723 Second St.
 
Anne Arundel County Farmers Market
Anne Arundel County’s oldest farmers market is year round. Browse and buy products that local farmers and producers grow, make or produce: fruit, veggies, meats, cheese, eggs, plants, soap, honey, flowers, baked goods, jams, jelly, herbs, furniture, milk, yogurt, butter, ready-made food and more — all Made in Maryland. 
April 7-8, Sa 7am-noon, Su 10am-1pm, 275 Truman Pkwy., Annapolis
 
Banneker Douglass Museum
Learn how African Americans throughout Maryland from 1633 to the present made lasting changes for all in the exhibit Deep Roots, Rising Waters. Also new at the museum: artist Ulysses Marshall’s exhibit Bent But Not Broken: An Artistic Celebration of the Spirit and Legacy of Frederick Douglass.
April 6-8, 10am-4pm, 84 Franklin St., Annapolis
 
Brewer Hill Cemetery
Take guided tours and learn more about the people interred here, including city and county founders, casualties of the Revolutionary and Civil wars and members of the African-American community. Learn about research and preservation efforts. Descendants please bring photos, Bible records and oral histories for a memorial website.
Saturday, April 7, tours on the hour 11am-4pm, 802 West St., Annapolis
 
Charles Carroll House 
Explore this grand old home, an essentially intact 18th-century property in the historic district. Charles Carroll of Carrollton was the most famous of the many generations of Carrolls who resided here. The family played a major role in the framing of the governance of Maryland and the emerging United States. Charles was one of four Marylanders to sign the Declaration of Independence and was the only Roman Catholic signer. He and wife Mary ‘Molly’ Darnall were given ownership of the house as a wedding present. Charles lived to be 96, leaving the house to his daughter Mary Caton and four Caton granddaughters.
April 7-8, noon-4pm, 107 Duke of Gloucester St., Annapolis
 
Chesapeake Bay Foundation
Tour the Phillip Merrill Environmental Center, the world’s first LEED Platinum building and home to state offices, an educational center and a popular event venue. 
Saturday, April 7, 11am, 6 Herndon Ave., Annapolis
 
Chesapeake Children’s Museum
Play all day in the museum and meet live animals, travel the seven seas on a 10-foot boat, dress up and perform on stage, shop at a Columbian street market or take a stroll on the creekside nature trail (10am-4pm). Saturday, hear the Fantasy Players, a group of young touring musicians playing covers of rock classics as well as original music (2-4pm). Sunday, bring a picnic for the outdoor setting of a retelling of the traditional west African tale of Leopard’s Drum (6pm); make a drum or shaker or bring your own to join the rhythm circle with the Performing Arts Center of African Cultures.
April 7-8, 10am-4pm, 25 Silopanna Rd., Annapolis, $1
 
Deale Area Historical Society
Get a glimpse into rural life in the late 1800s to early 1900s by visiting a two-room home, one-room schoolhouse, an African-American beneficial society building, an outhouse, a tobacco barn, a Russian Orthodox chapel and other smaller buildings essential to life in the country. Docents on hand to answer questions about the time period. 
Sunday, April 8, 1-4pm, 389 Deale Dr., Tracy’s Landing
 
Galesville Heritage Society
Over 350 years of history of colonists, slaves, mariners and merchants enrich this seaside village. John Murray Colhoun — a direct descendent of the village’s Puritan founders, 12th generation farmer and owner of Ivy Neck Farm — presents the Freeing of the Ivy Neck and Tulip Hill Slaves at Memorial Hall (2pm, 952 Main St). Learn about the court battle that followed Colhoun’s great-great-great-grandfather James Cheston Sr.’s will, in 1843,which freed 77 slaves upon his death. Light refreshments served at the Galesville Heritage Museum follow the presentation.
Sunday, April 8, 1-4pm, 988 Main St., Galesville
 
Greenstreet Gardens
Join a seminar on planting and growing Maryland Native Plants with special guest Tony Dove. Special discounts on native plants. 
Saturday, April 7, 11am, 391 Bay Front Rd., Lothian
 
Hammond-Harwood House
The 1774 house is a fine example of Anglo-Palladian architecture. The museum collection features paintings, furniture and decorative arts from the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Social history of the time covers family life, the enslaved people who worked at the house and Annapolis traditions. 30-minute guided Mansion tours, 1pm, 2pm & 3pm, limited to 20 guests (first come, first served); gardens open for free.
Saturday, April 7, noon-4pm, 19 Maryland Ave., ­Annapolis, $1 tours
 
Historic Annapolis Museum
Explore the exhibit Freedom Bound: Runaways of the Chesapeake, an exhibit of videos, audios, historic artifacts, runaway advertisements from 1728 to 1864 and hands-on activities to convey the defeats and triumphs nine real men and women experienced in their struggle for freedom.
April 7-8, Sa 10am-4pm, Su noon-4pm, 999 Main St.
 
Historic Annapolis Hogshead 
Consider the working class life of 18th century Annapolis with historic interpreters and hands-on activities.
April 7-8, noon-4pm, 43 Pinkney St., Annapolis
 
Historic Annapolis William Paca House & Garden
Saturday, make and take Made in Maryland crafts. Sunday, celebrate the marriage of Julianna Jennings and James Brice in 1781 and meet living history interpreters.
April 7-8, Sa 10am-4pm, Su noon-4pm, 186 Prince George St., Annapolis, $1
 
Historic London Town & Gardens
Friday, enjoy a special Hard Cider talk and tasting with Faulkner Branch Cidery & Distilling Co. (7pm, $45 w/discounts). Saturday and Sunday, try your hand at chopping wood and making rope and talk old times with costumed interpreters, smell fresh hearth colonial-style cooking, buy handmade furniture from a master carpenter and explore the gardens; kids dress up in colonial-style clothes. 
April 6-8, 10ama-4:30pm, Edgewater, $1
 
Homestead Gardens
Learn the ins and outs of raising backyard chickens in Maryland, from space and time requirements to the needed supplies. Take a coop tour and watch the Me & My Chicken Photo contest prize presentation with the Anne Arundel County Poultry Princess Olivia Velthuis; kids play in the open corral.
Saturday, April 7, 10am-3pm, Davidsonville & Severna Park
 
Maryland Hall for the Creative Arts
The 9th annual ArtFest Open House brings creative fun to all ages with performances, art demonstrations, hands-on projects, community art and gallery events. Events include children’s drama and theater showcase, monoprinting, digital photo booth, pottery wheel demo, glass fusing demo, printmaking demos, drawing and painting demos, Ballet Theater of Maryland showcase, belly dancing showcase and workshops, woodturning demo, yoga and tai chi demos, hip hop/tap and ballroom dancing demos, food trucks and free ice cream, cow tails, caramel creams and popcorn.
Sunday, April 8, 1-4pm, 801 Chase St., Annapolis
 
Maryland State House
Tour the oldest state capitol in continuous legislative use, explore the history made here and see exhibits, including historical portraits and paintings by Charles Willson Peale. Maryland is the only statehouse ever to have served as the nation’s capitol. The General Assembly is in session Saturday; view the proceedings, space permitting.
April 6-8, 9am-5pm, 100 State Circle, Annapolis, (bring photo ID)
 
Scenic Rivers Land Trust
Take a 2.5- to 4-mile hike through the history-rich setting of the Bacon Ridge Natural Area to discover how humans and nature have interacted to create this landscape, while enjoying the beauty of a 900+ acre protected forest; unpaved wooded trail, leashed dogs welcome. 
Saturday, April 7, 12:30pm (rsvp: www.srlt.org), Hawkins Rd. trailhead (south of I-97 overpass), Crownsville
 
Visit Annapolis and Anne Arundel Co.
Get expert help and maps for your Maryland Day adventures.
April 6-8, 9am-5pm, 26 West St. and City Dock 
Information Booth, Annapolis
 
Shuttle ’round Annapolis, Free
April 6-8: The Annapolis Circulator bus runs every 20 minutes, making a loop on West St., Duke of Gloucester St., Compromise St., Main St. and Church Circle. Flag down the bus or look for designated stops along the route. This service stops at all city parking garages. 
Saturday April 7: Ride site to site on Towne Transport’s shuttle. From 10am to 5pm, the trolley makes an hour-long loop from Visit Annapolis at 26 West St. to the Maryland State House Lawyer’s Mall at College Ave., and back, stopping at nine sites along the way. 
https://marylandday.org/free-transportation-schedules

Local students are stepping up, speaking out and marching for a safe education

       Right here in Annapolis, students are assembling behind their colleagues in Parkland to speak up for their right to a safe education. 
      Mackenzie Boughey, a sophomore at the Severn School in Severna Park, watched with rising unease as the tragedy at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, overwhelmed television and social media. First she felt horror. Then inspiration. 
       Seeing people her own age and younger standing up for the friends they lost, Boughey decided enough was enough. If a lone gunman could end and change so many lives in a small, safe town like Parkland, was any place safe?
      That was a question worth talking about. Every place. 
      The determined 17-year-old athlete, bagpipe player and leader stepped up to help organize the March for Our Lives rally in Annapolis March 24 to encourage gun control and a safe future for students. Boughey sought to create a space where students, teachers and parents could safely express their outrage, ask for change — and be taken seriously.
      Severn School students Maya Rogalski, Alexandra Szynal, Maddi Meyers and Lauren Carlson joined the first planning committee meeting on February 24, two weeks after the shooting.
 
Preparation or Prevention 
      All schools prepare for fires. Some schools practice for tornadoes or hurricanes. In the 1950s, students hid under their desks during bomb threat drills. In the early 2000s, sniper attacks had Chesapeake regional schools on high alert as students took shelter indoors.
      In 2018, students are practicing active shooter drills to be ready for a rogue gunman on campus. There is a history of preparing kids for danger in school. In this case, the danger could be preventable.
      Boughey’s Severn School is working hard on emergency preparedness and had an active shooter drill scheduled before the massacre in Parkland. She appreciates her school’s dedication to safety.
     “It’s nice to know the school was thinking about preparing us before, but it shouldn’t be necessary,” Boughey says. “Our main goal is to fix it now before anything else happens.” 
 
Something Else Happens
     To that goal Boughey and fellow organizers are in support of changes that are radical in term of political achievability: improving background checks, raising the purchasing age to 21, limiting semi-automatic weapons and banning assault rifles altogether.
      Representatives for the National Rifle Association have been outspoken about adding firearms to the equation instead of restricting them. From the County Council to the White House, many elected officials agree with that stand.
      On March 1, President Trump met with NRA Lobbyist Chris Cox. After their meeting, Cox tweeted: “POTUS supports the Second Amendment, supports strong due process and doesn’t want gun control.”
      Arming teachers makes guns the solution, not the problem, Boughey says. 
      “Teaching is a hard enough job without adding guns,” Boughey says, reflecting on her father’s work as a public school teacher. He is not interested in carrying a weapon in school, nor does he have the time for the training required.
       Opinions like these — all sorts of opinions — are what Boughey hopes will be shared at the Annapolis March from Lawyers Mall to Susan Campbell Park.     “This is about the students. We will be heard,” she says. 
       “The aim of the march,” she says, “is not about politics.” The conversation has turned political and angry on too many occasions. Organizers want to make sure the march does not go that way. Positive thinking and forward movement is their intention.
      Opinions like Boughey’s are not safely expressed in some places. Movements like this march open themselves to criticism and intimidation.
        On March 24, Boughey hopes Lawyers Mall will be a safe space for area students to think and wish and pray out loud. 
 
Turning the Tide
       The kids have their supporters. 
       Students left school by the thousands on Wednesday March 14, one month after the massacre in Parkland. Demonstrations lasted 17 minutes to honor each victim killed at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. As school administrators considered how to react, many principals, parents and teachers were supportive. 
       Parents are uniting behind their children to say enough is enough. On March 13, 7,000 shoes were laid on the lawn of the Capitol in Washington, D.C., to honor victims lost to gun violence. Calling on Congress to take action, protesting parents held signs that read #NotOneMore.
       “I’m so glad to see students standing up for what they believe. People are quick to dismiss them because they’re students and they’re young. But I think they’re underestimating them,” says Mackenzie’s mother. Heather Boughey. “I’m so impressed with the students from Parkland. They’re well spoken, well researched and are fighting for a change that is desperately needed.”
        There’s a long path ahead for any gun-control legislation to pass federally. But the steps already taken by the state of Florida show that on a smaller scale, changes can be made. The new Florida gun bill raises the minimum age for purchase to 21, bans bump stocks and creates a longer waiting period during the background check process.
      It doesn’t, however, ban assault rifles, and it allows the arming of school personnel.
       Legislation has a long way to go. But as far as it goes, change has come largely because of student activists like Boughey.
       In Maryland, Congressman Anthony Brown welcomed the planning committee, as well as representatives from Moms Demanding Action, for an open discussion about school safety and gun control. 
       On February 27, Brown and Pennsylvania colleague Brian Fitzpatrick introduced a bipartisan bill to tighten gun safety by raising the purchasing age for assault rifles.
      “This common-sense bipartisan bill is a critical first step that closes a dangerous loophole in our gun laws,” Brown said. 
      Both congressmen say they will do what they can to gather support for the bill from their colleagues. Their goal is to prevent Parkland from ever happening again.
 
The March
       On March 24, students will have their safe space. From 11am to 1pm, the March For Our Lives gathers in downtown Annapolis, beginning at Lawyers Mall.
        For the first hour, ideas will be in the air as speakers share their thoughts on gun control. 
      Annapolis Mayor Gavin Buckley will be there, saying a few words in support of the march.
      There’ll representatives from Moms Demanding Action, a powerful grassroots organization founded in response to the Sandy Hook school shooting in 2012. Speakers from Moms Demanding Action will explain common-sense solutions, including legislative solutions, to gun violence. 
     The father of a Virginia Tech survivor has been invited. Students, teachers and school administrators will be there, and, organizers hope, elected officials who have the power of action.
      After the speeches, the marchers make their way down to Susan Campbell Park at City Dock to sign a banner petition for gun-blocking legislation. There’ll be voter registration for students who’ll be 18 by Maryland’s primary election in June and the general election in November. 
      In the midst of the nationwide debate, Boughey and her peers stand resolute: “Whether we fix this or not,” she says, “we’ll still be here fighting.”

Pysanky, the jewel-like Ukrainian eggs, keep the world in balance

     As an American of Ukrainian heritage, Coreen Weilminster cherishes the Easter traditions with which she was raised. Especially when it comes to the ancient art of pysanky, eggs decorated using a wax-resist method similar to batik. In design, in legend and in Christian tradition, these eggs have kept alive a gentle folk art reflecting the Ukrainian nation.
     “I grew up in the anthracite region of northeastern Pennsylvania, in a one-horse town called Nesquehoning,” explains Weilminster, 47, of her legacy. “Immigrants flocked to the area just before World War I to work the mines, among them my grandmother’s family.” With them came pysanky.
       The term pysanka (in its plural form, pysanky) is derived from the Ukrainian words pysaty, meaning to write, and kraska, meaning color. The process is delicate, the product dazzling. A special tool called a kitska — basically, a funnel attached to a stick — is first heated over a candle flame and then filled with beeswax, which quickly melts. Using the molten wax as ink, one writes (as Ukrainians say) a design on a raw egg, then dips the egg in dye. The dying can be repeated in darker colors, each round of wax sealing a different color on the shell. In the final stage, the wax is removed to reveal the finished pysanka.
      Weilminster’s grandmother came from a family of 13 children. During the Lenten weeks prior to Easter, three of her sisters (Weilminster’s great-aunts) spent evenings in the kitchen crafting jewel-like pysanky. It was a magical time. From watching these women, Weilminster learned the process. At the age of 16, she was ready. She picked up a kitska and created her first egg. 
      A pysanky artist was born.
 
The Power of the Egg
       Since pagan times, the tradition of decorating eggs with beeswax and dyes was widespread in Europe, especially among Slavic peoples. Archaeologists have unearthed ceramic decorated eggs in Ukraine dating back to 1,300bce. Many pysanky made today feature motifs adapted from the pottery designs of an ancient tribe of people, the Trypillians, who lived in Eastern Europe from roughly 5,200 to 3,500bce. References to pysanky abound in their art, poetry, music and folklore.
      Trypillians led peaceful lives as farmers and artisans. Like most early humans, they worshipped the sun as the source of all life. In the land that is now Ukraine, eggs decorated with symbols from nature became central to spring rituals and sun-worship ceremonies. The logic was simple. The yolk of an egg symbolized the sun and its white the moon. In winter, the landscape appears lifeless, as does an egg. As an egg hatches a living thing, so the sun awakens dormant fields in spring. Thus the egg was considered a benevolent talisman with magical powers, able to protect and bring good fortune. 
      Legend says the first pysanky came from the sky. A bitter winter had swept across the land before migrating birds were able to fly southward. They began to fall to the ground and were in danger of freezing. The peasants gathered the birds, brought them into their homes and nurtured them throughout the winter. Come spring, the peasants set the birds free. The birds returned bearing pysanky as gifts for the humans who saved their lives.
     In early Ukraine, a veil of superstition enshrouded pysanky. They protected from fire, lightning, illness and the evil eye. To ensure a good crop, a farmer coated an egg in green oats and buried it in his field. For a good harvest of honey, he placed eggs beneath his beehives. For a plentiful fruit harvest, he hung blown eggs in his orchards and in trees surrounding his home. When building a new home, he marked its corners with eggs, then buried them in the ground as a form of protection. 
     “An early legend said the fate of the world hinged upon pysanky,” Weilminster says. “Evil, in the guise of a monster was kept chained to a cliff. Each year in the spring, the foul creature sent his minions to encircle the globe and tally up the number of pysanky made. If the count was low, the creature’s bonds would be loosened, unleashing all manner of evils.”
 
Writing in Symbols
       At the root of all pysanky is symbolism. Every color, every symbol has meaning, many echoing pagan respect for nature and life. Late in the 10th century ce, however, their interpretation changed as Christianity gained acceptance in Ukraine. Ancient pagan motifs and Christian elements blended. Pysanky lost their connection to sun worship. Once tied to the sun god Dazhboh, motifs featuring the sun, star, cross and horse came to represent the Christian God. Grapes, a harvest motif, came to represent the growing Church and the wine of communion. The fish, formerly a mystical action figure, came to symbolize Christ. Triangles that signified the trinities of air, fire and water or the heavens, earth and air now honor the Holy Trinity. 
        Still, lurking behind the Christian symbolism are traces of magical thinking. Take, as an example, the 19th and 20th century burial customs observed in Christian families when a child died during the Easter season. For food to eat and a toy to play with, the child was buried with pysanky. Even today, lines written on pysanky should remain unbroken so as to not break the thread of life. 
 
Keeping the Tradition Alive
       As the most important religious holiday in Ukraine is Easter, pysanky has become linked with its observance. With the arrival of the Lenten season, the women in traditional Russian Orthodox families often get down to waxing. 
      As a wife, mother, professional and pysanky artist, Coreen Weilminster has come a distance from her Pennsylvania roots. Living in Arnold, she enjoys the Chesapeake life with husband Eric and their two teenage daughters, Brooke and Braelyn. On weekdays, she works in Annapolis, coordinating educational programs for the Chesapeake Bay National Research Reserve in Maryland. Somehow, though, on evenings and weekends, she finds time for pysanky. Now with 31 years of pysanky experience, she happily shares her love of the craft with others, teaching workshops in her home and at the Jug Bay Center Wetlands Sanctuary in Lothian.
       At this year’s Jug Bay workshop in late February, Weilminster spoke with nostalgia about her family’s mystical late-night egg decorating sessions.
     “In the weeks before Easter, my great-aunts Helen, Irene and Elizabeth began making pysanky by the dozen,” she said. 
     Attention was paid to color, rhythm, symbolism, harmony and the unwritten rules of technique. 
     By Ukrainian tradition, making pysanky is a holy ritual for the women of the family. No one else is supposed to peek. After the children are put to bed in the evening, the fun begins. 
     “In pagan days, the pysanka was considered a vessel. It held life,” said Weilminster. “Even today, the purpose of making pysanky is to transfer goodness from one’s household into the designs. You’re to put an intention into your eggs and then give them away as gifts. We gave them to celebrate births, weddings, funerals and religious holidays. Especially on Easter Sunday.” 
      As members of a Russian Orthodox congregation, Weilminster’s family observed all the old Easter traditions. 
      “On Easter morning, we brought the food for our Easter feast to the church for the Blessing of the Baskets,” Weilminster recalls. “We’d line a basket with hand-stitched towels. In went pysanky, ham, horseradish, butter molded into the shape of a lamb and a loaf of Paska bread, a yeast bread enriched with eggs and melted butter. Pussy willows might be tossed in for effect.” 
      Back stood the parishioners as the priest and altar boys made a joyous procession. The priest sprinkled holy water and blessed the baskets.
     “It was impressive. But all I wanted was the ham in that basket,” sighs Weilminster.
 
The Moment of Truth
     When the class got down to business, Weilminster instructed on waxing and using the aniline dyes she had mixed — all while reminding her students to be forgiving of themselves. 
      “Keep in mind that this takes time and practice. Your egg will look like it’s your first egg,” she said. “It is. Still, when the wax is removed, I promise you, you’ll love it.”
     At first, students worked in silent focus. Gradually, confidence grew. At the end of the waxing and dyeing process, Weilminster helped each student blow the egg out of its shell. Then came wax removal.
     “Traditionally, wax was removed by holding the egg over a candle flame,” Weilminster said. “Me, I believe in modern hacks. I use the microwave.”
     Loud squeals emanated from the kitchen as one anxious student after another wiped the softened wax off their pysanky. All he or she wanted to do was make one more, and another after that. 
     That’s the way it’s supposed to be.