Thanking 'Bar'

In her death, Barbara Bush performed one last bit of public service.

She brought the world together.

The world has never been a particularly pleasant place, with hatred, famine, genocide, war, pollution, corruption and various and assorted other acts of violence, aggression and oppression existing since the beginning of time. And here at home, we have not been the idyllic picture of equality and acceptance we would like the rest of the world to believe. 

Over the past two years or so, that home-grown ugliness has been more overt — encouraged and inspired by a political climate that has made our nation more divided than it has been in quite some time.

So it has done my heart good — but also saddened me — to see that if there was a positive thing to come of the death of perhaps our most beloved First Lady of my adult life, it was to make that togetherness happen.

Folks have left their partisan politics and philosophies behind as they have reached across the aisle of life to pay honor to the woman who was often referred to as “everyone’s grandmother.”

Elected leaders from this nation and abroad have set aside their differences to express condolences and share anecdotes, photographs and memories of a woman respected nearly universally.

I have been particularly moved by the very public sharing of her grandmother’s life and memories by Jenna Bush Hager, a correspondent with NBC. By all public accounts, Jenna enjoyed an extremely close relationship with her “Gans,” and it had to be tough for her emotionally to keep her wits about her to appear on camera so quickly after Mrs. Bush died.

Jenna shared on Facebook a cartoon that someone sent to her, showing Mrs. Bush being reunited with her late daughter, Robin, just inside the gates of heaven. Robin died of leukemia in 1953 at the age of 3.

After news of her death spread, many memes circulated online almost immediately with poignant, tear-evoking images and written passages.

One displayed a picture of the late Marine Gunny Sergeant-turned actor R. Lee Ermey along side of a portrait of Mrs. Bush with the caption: “Well the passing of GySgt Ermey makes some sense now. There had to be a Marine on standby to escort the former first lady through heaven’s gate.”

Another tribute came from the crew of the USS George H.W. Bush (CVN 77). A photograph of Mrs. Bush from the dedication of the ship was published on Facebook with this message: “Our thoughts, prayers, and deepest sympathies are with all of the Bush family tonight. On behalf of every officer, chief, and Sailor aboard USS George H.W. Bush (CVN 77), rest in peace, ma’am. We have the watch.”

Former Soviet president Mikhail Gorbachev, England’s Queen Elizabeth,  Kuwait’s ruler, Sheikh Sabah Al Ahmad Al Sabah and former presidents Bill Clinton and Barack Obama are among those who have sent condolences to former President George H.W. Bush and his extended family upon the loss of the family’s matriarch.

At Mrs. Bush’s funeral today in Houston, the presence of Presidents Clinton and Obama was noted as being unusual; it is not common for former presidents to attend the funeral of a former first lady, according to NBC commentators.

The presence of the two men was because of the genuinely strong and loving relationships they developed with the family, despite differing ideologies, according to an NBC announcer.

Much has been made of “Bar’s” down-to-earth demeanor, the hair that turned white prematurely, the trademark pearls and the wrinkles she wore with pride because she earned every one of them.

She has been lauded for her treatment of the lesser members of our society, for her efforts on behalf of literacy — both for children and adults — and her general affection for all people, regardless of socioeconomic status, religion, political party or race. She was one of the first prominent people to publicly embrace a child with AIDS, in spite of the Republican party’s unwillingness to utter the word.

She ruffled feathers because she didn’t strictly follow the Republican agenda. She was a smart and sensitive woman who spoke her own very capable mind and followed her heart.

It’s unfortunate that I think we have come to know more about Mrs. Bush in these first few days after her death than we knew of her while she was here with us. 

But in the end, all that’s important is that we did learn more about her — I learned things that just make me love and respect her even more — which hopefully makes us realize that we are all more alike than we are different.

I know this reaching across the aisle afterglow won’t last long. 

Mrs. Bush will be laid to rest this afternoon — physically near the grave of Robin on the grounds of the Bush Presidential Library, and spiritually, if that’s your belief, reunited with her beloved daughter.

Life will go on and the nation and the world will all too soon get back to its ugly business as usual.

But I would like to thank God for the gift that was Barbara Pierce Bush; I’d like to thank the Bush family for sharing her with the world; and I’d like to thank Mrs. Bush for being the smart, kind, strong, loving, authentic, gracious woman who sought to bring us together while she lived and accomplished that in her death.

Godspeed, Mrs. Bush.

A Man & A Tree

I'm using my blog to archive some of my favorite stories I've written over the years. A lot of my work has been lost online because of news outlets creating new websites and not migrating old content to the new sites.

This article, which won a first-place feature writing award from the Maryland-Delaware-DC Press Association, was originally published in The Dundalk Eagle on Aug. 8, 2002.

A Man & A Tree

She hadn't stood under her own power for years. Her once-mighty trunk was buttressed by concrete and her majestic limbs were moored by miles and miles of cable.

But the death of the Wye Oak at the hands of a violent Eastern Shore windstorm June 6 was still a shock, still the unthinkable. She had always been there.

Tens of thousands of people across the country have mourned the death of the nation's champion white oak tree.

But perhaps no one mourns more than Dundalk High School graduate Stark McLaughlin, who as a Maryland State forester has been the tree's main caregiver for 28 years.

"When the phone call came in that the Wye Oak was down, we didn't immediately panic," McLaughlin said in late June. The tree routinely lost branches in bad storms, and foresters had grown accustomed to reports that the tree had been knocked down.

But this time, his worst fear was confirmed.

McLaughlin jumped in his car to go see for himself, confident that his longtime friend would still be standing, as she had for 460 years.

"Right off Route 50 near the 404 light, there's a spot I know to glance, over the tops of some silos, where I can see the tree," he said. "I looked over, and she wasn't there."

The forester and his colleagues were able to keep their emotions in check in the immediate aftermath because of the potential danger of the situation.

"We had a massive tree laying across the highway," he said. "We had immediate safety issues to deal with."

"We had to assess conditions, call in resources and people, create a containment line, fence in the area and determine if we could work safely in the tree to begin removing it," he said.

Most folks assume the tree fell down and just needed to be cut up and carted away, McLaughlin said.

And he would have loved for it to be that simple. But the 96-foot tree was mammoth; of proportions hard to visualize. Large pieces lay atop other large pieces, often precariously. He had to make sure pieces wouldn't settle or fall while workers were inside the crown.

Cable that had been holding up the Wye Oak's branches was attached to huge eye bolts sunk deep within the tree. Workers examined the tree and marked all metal with orange spray paint to prevent serious injuries to those wielding chainsaws.

Besides clearing the highway quickly and safely, the team realized it had to preserve as much of the tree as possible.

Even in a pouring rain, people came out in droves to pay their respects to the Talbot County icon as word of her demise traveled.

To discourage souvenir hunters from venturing too closely, foresters handed out leaves and twigs they kept in buckets.

McLaughlin shared the story of a Native American man who drove to the site because "he just wanted to be able to touch the tree."

"I took him into the crown, and he just put his hands on it," McLaughlin said. "He knelt and said a small chant.

"He just understood," McLaughlin said before tears stopped him from finishing his sentence. He swallowed hard and continued: "He understood that a great thing had died, a spiritual thing had died."

The Wye Oak tree has been in state care since 1939, when it was purchased from a private owner.

At one time the tree was 121 feet high. It underwent a big makeover in 1985-86, according to McLaughlin. Many of its branches were recabled, and the crown was reduced by about 20 feet "in an attempt to preserve the integrity of the tree - to prolong its life," he said.

"We always knew she wouldn't last forever."

Much of the wood was temporarily stored in a warehouse on Kent Island, where conditions are far from favorable because of extreme temperatures and humidity, said McLaughlin.

On July 11, some of the usable wood was sawed and turned into boards by the Johnson Logging Co. in Talbot County.

While the tree was huge, only 14 pieces could be salvaged for lumber.

Meanwhile, the Wye Oak Advisory Committee, of which McLaughlin is a member, has been meeting to discuss ways of using the tree's wood. Folks were encouraged to submit ideas, which they did with great gusto.

Ideas ranged from building homes for the homeless to keychains and baseball bats, McLaughlin said.

Artists from across the world have contacted the committee with ideas for sculptures, which amazed the forester.

"We even heard from folks in Great Britain who heard about the tree dying," he said. "They are going to send a seedling from their St. John oak, which is a grand tree there."

A lot of people are still driving by to look at the stump, which McLaughlin feels will last for quite a while.

The Wye Oak shaded more than half an acre in life. In death, it will serve as an unprecedented educational tool for foresters and for students from pre-kindergarten through college.

Her wood may well be turned into ceremonial gavels and crab mallets, and her leaves might become pieces of jewelry.

But she will remain in the memories of thousands for years to come. And her seedlings are planted across the country, including at Wye Oak State Park, where a new tree was planted in 1986 behind what is now just a memorial stump.

And even at the end, the Wye Oak was considerate.

"She fell like a lady," McLaughlin said. "She didn't hurt anyone. It was a rainy, windy night and no one was around.

"And no one has gotten hurt handling the wood, which is just amazing. It was definitely a dramatic outgoing."

Remembering a mentor

Today is the 42nd anniversary of the death of Alice Plecker, my very first Recreation and Parks boss and mentor.

Alice hired me in the fall of 1975 to run after-school and evening roller skating programs at Chase and Seneca Elementary schools in eastern Baltimore County.

She turned 25 that fall and was three years out of Penn State, where she earned her degree in Recreation and Parks Administration.

Alice Calinski Plecker, as pictured in Penn State's yearbook, La Vie 1972.

Alice took me under her wing and is the reason I ultimately changed my major from English and theater arts to rec and parks.

I looked up to her and admired the way she related to kids in the neighborhood. She was an accomplished golfer and had recently married a local golf pro. She always had clubs in the trunk of her car and was forever huddled with kids on Seneca's athletic fields, teaching them the finer points of driving and putting. I still remain grateful for the lessons I got from her.

As a boss, Alice was fun, funny, supportive and appreciative. She always had a kind word to say to me and complimented me on how I interacted with the kids and the extra time I put in to plan special events and themed nights.

She knew most of the kids by name and they loved her as much as she loved them.

Alice's 25th birthday in November 1975 would be her last. On April 13, 1976, her life was tragically cut short when, while driving home from the rec council's annual carnival, her car was hit head-on by an under-age drunken driver.

I knew Alice for less than a year, but she made a tremendous impression on me and I know there are countless "kids" from that neighborhood who also still remember her, still think about her and certainly appreciate the gift she was to all of us.

Birds have historic Opening Day win

With Thursday’s now seemingly traditional Opening Day walk off victory, the Baltimore Orioles are undefeated, in first place (OK, so it’s a three-way tie for first) in the American League East Division and are on pace to win 162 games!

The Birds started the season looking like a contender, at least in the pitching department. Dylan Bundy engaged in a pitching duel with the Twins’ Jake Odorizzi, with both hurlers tossing shutout ball (Odorizzi left the game after six innings and Bundy exited after seven).

The Birds scored two runs in the bottom of the seventh and reliever Darren O’Day held the Twins scoreless in the eighth before giving way to Brad Brach to close out the ninth.

If only.

I was already getting a bad feeling, because I was watching the game in an establishment where the “fans” were already bashing players, second-guessing management and otherwise putting down the home team (it always amazes me when a bunch of guys are bellied up to a bar, guzzling beer and talking like they know more than the professionals who have been in the baseball industry for decades, but that’s a story for another day).

The folks who weren’t bashing the Birds were already putting the game in the win column and looking toward Saturday night’s game. Such talk always makes me cringe. It ain’t over ’til it’s over, and I get quite superstitious when watching one of pro sports’ most superstitious games.

And sure enough, Brach had a meltdown that saw a precarious two-run lead disappear.

Brach had a horrible outing, loading the bases and giving up two runs to tie the game. He recorded just two outs and was yanked in favor of Mychal Givens, who finally ended the painful inning with no additional damage and return to toss a scoreless 10th.

Richard Bleier got the nod to pitch the 11th, recorded three scoreless outs and found himself the Opening Day winner when outfielder Adam Jones sent the first pitch of the bottom of the 11th into the left field seats for a 3-2 win over the Twins.

Jones’ walk off homer continued a streak of Opening Day dramatic wins for the Birds. Fans might remember last year’s walk off home run by Mark Trumbo, and catcher Matt Wieters hit a single to bat in the winning run in the 2016 opener. Coincidentally, Trumbo’s homer also came in the 11th inning, resulting in a 3-2 win over the Blue Jays.

The three consecutive walk off victories, an MLB record, will undoubtedly be fodder for sports trivia quizzes in the future.

Obviously, I was being facetious in saying the Birds are on pace to win 162 games, but part of the glory of a new baseball season is to dream and dream big.

So, remember to cheer FOR the home team, let the professionals do their jobs and don’t put the game in the win column (or the loss column, for that matter) until the final out is recorded.

Let’s go O’s!

Opening Day and hope springs eternal!

It’s Opening Day in Baltimore — that much-looked-forward-to day when the Birds take the field at Camden Yards with a clean slate and fresh hopes.

True Baltimore baseball fans have suffered through way too many losing seasons, with the last World Series title coming in 1983 and, before the Buck Showalter era, way too many years had lapsed since the team made a playoff appearance (maybe 1997?).

But during manager Showalter’s tenure, the Orioles have enjoyed several winning seasons and a couple of playoff appearances, despite the absence of a notable pitching staff. The Three B’s kept the Birds competitive — Bats, Bench and the Bullpen's relievers.

As a result, it again became fashionable to be a Birds backer and Orioles gear became almost as popular as that of the Ravens. Younger fans came on board and the town was once again proud of the boys of summer.

But the wheels came off the bus last year, as some big, well-paid bats went silent and the bullpen, simply asked to pitch way too many innings, lost its edge.

This baseball cap, a fan giveaway many years ago when the Orioles called Memorial Stadium home, is weighed down with more than 30 years of Orioles history as played out on pins and buttons.

We ended the season with the first losing record of Showalter’s tenure and a last-place finish in the American League East Division. For the first time in six years, the lack of a pitching staff just couldn’t be overcome. We were grateful for the young stars on the team, and had hopes the big bats would come back in the spring well-rest and rejuvenated, but we also knew this was the winter something absolutely needed to be done in the pitching department.

As recently as six weeks ago, it appeared that we were going to come out of the off-season with nothing done to improve the team’s pitching staff. And then, bam! Word trickled out about the acquisition of Andrew Cashner and, more recently, the signing of Alex Cobb. All of a sudden, we have a pitching staff, with the two veterans joining Kevin Gausman, Dylan Bundy and Chris Tillman, the former ace of the staff who's hoping to rebound from an abysmal 2017 season. Cobb is still in Sarasota, having a private spring training because of his late signing, and is expected to join the team sometime next month.

Bundy, a 25-year-old pitcher who was the fourth overall draft pick in the 2011 Major League Baseball draft, gets the honor of starting today’s home opener.

Manny Machado — who will be found this year at shortstop instead of third base —Trey Mancini and Jonathan Schoop enjoyed productive spring training sessions and we can only hope that Chris Davis and Mark Trumbo (who’s starting the season on the disabled list) can reproduce past offensive successes.

So the Yard is all prepped, the Orioles have announced a Kids Cheer Free campaign which admits children ages 9 and younger for free (with the purchase of adult tickets), and Pizza John’s pizza can now be had at the ballpark (eastside fans rejoice).

We’ve got new players to “meet,” old favorites we’re pulling for and that clean 0-0 slate which allows us to dream for a while.

Play Ball! 

Reconnections

The summer of 1970 was a heady time with many different meanings for different groups of people. It was post-Woodstock and post-Summer of Love; it was not long after back-to-back assassinations tore this country apart; it was pre-Watergate; and the unpopular Vietnam war was raging — the Kent State massacre had occurred just six weeks previously.

I had just finished seventh grade and was too young at the time to fully appreciate the activism taking place or to understand the historical significance of many of the events of that era. For me, the first summer of the 1970s was significant because that's when I became a teenager and when I spent the entire break between seventh and eighth grades at what was then called Walter Reed Army Medical Center.

Without divulging too much personal information or dragging out old baggage, it was a dark, difficult time of my life. I was hospitalized more than 60 miles from home and as a result, had no visitors for the duration of the stay. My mother couldn’t be bothered to visit and I didn’t find out until I was discharged and returned home that none of my friends or neighbors were even aware that I was sick, let alone hospitalized for such a long time.

Thankfully, observant, caring hospital staffers figured out I was alone. Many of them made efforts to spend extra time with me and found ways to keep me engaged in activities when I was able. But one nurse in particular went above and beyond the call of duty and took me under her wing. She was young and bright and fun and funny and sassy in an era when a deployment to Vietnam hung like a cloud over the heads of all military members.

This nurse, who I now know was only 21 at the time, came to the hospital on her days off to hang out with me and take me on outings. The simple act of treating me to lunch at Arby’s, taking me to her apartment so I could hang for a little while in a more home-like setting or buying peanuts and going out to the hospital’s park-like front lawn to feed the squirrels went a long way in normalizing a routine and making an abandoned, neglected, sick kid feel loved and cared about.

As we all know, time marches on. I went home and started eighth grade and a couple of months after that, my guardian angel nurse went to Vietnam.

As the years flew by, I never forgot her and the impact she had on my life. The altruistic effort she made to make a difference in a kid’s life, when she was at an age when socializing with peers and dating and all the other trappings of young adult life would have been more important, stuck with me my entire life.

When technology put the world at our fingertips, she was one of the first people from my past that I tried to find. Life is a little unfair to women, because most change their last names when they marry. That makes finding women a little more difficult than men.

My first few searches were unfruitful and then I hit upon just the right phrases for a search engine to find her. I was so excited that I responded with involuntary, spontaneous tears. But I didn’t have the nerve to reach out to her; it was enough for me to know she was alive and enjoying a successful nursing career.

But every couple of years, I repeated the search, just to assure myself that it was indeed her and to check to make sure she was OK (as much as that can be determined by a superficial online search).

Earlier this month I found her on Facebook. I finally bit the bullet and sent her a private message. Judging from what was publicly viewable on her FB page, it appeared as though she wasn’t extremely active on the site, so I didn’t hold my breath waiting for a response.

But when she did respond nearly two weeks later, it took my breath away. A brief but lovely online conversation allowed me to tell her what she meant to me all those years ago, and she assured me that she remembered me from that brief period.

It turns out that we have a real big thing in common. While I am a midlife crisis journalist, she — now retired from full-time nursing and teaching graduate-level college nursing courses — is a published author and “loves writing.”

I am hoping that we can cultivate a new friendship as much as time and distance allows. But I can scratch finding her off my bucket list, because it was that important to me to be able to tell her how important she was during that dreary time in my life.

Not many 13-year-olds have the ability to recognize such precious gifts, let alone express appreciation of them. The 60-year-old me was thrilled to perform that task on behalf of the 13-year-old me.

Pssssst! Looking for an unusual New Year's Eve party?

I’m not much of a fan of holidays that exist mainly to get drunk, with the “amateur” nights of St. Patrick’s Day and New Year’s Eve the main culprits.

That said, there’s an unusual New Year’s Eve party planned at the Bay Shore Bar and Grill in Edgemere if you’re looking for something fun and different to do.

With a nod to the prohibition era of the 1920s and ’30s, the restaurant is hosting a speakeasy. History buffs will know that speakeasies were illicit, underground establishments that illegally sold and served alcohol during prohibition. They were covert operations and customers had to know someone in order to be trusted with the location and the password needed to get inside. It is thought the name came about because of the need to not talk about the business and to speak softly while patronizing the place so as to not alert nearby neighbors or the police. It was also thought that many such businesses were run by organized crime mobs.

Bay Shore is paying homage to that past era by hosting the themed New Year’s party Saturday.. Customers must enter the property through the side gate and must know the password to be allowed entry. Fashions from the era are encouraged and costume prizes will be awarded. Music from the 1920s and ’30s will be played and folks who know a few dances from the era might be in for a few surprises.

The party will be held indoors as well as on the back deck and yard. With many believing that 2016 has been a year like no other, a burn barrel will be available for those who would like to destroy their baggage of 20-sucksteen. Write a letter to the year about to leave us and hurl it into the fire. Start 2017 with a clean slate and a positive attitude.

Chef Mike Spivey will keep the evening down to earth with a selection of gourmet burgers available until 10:30 p.m. I’m partial to the Brie Burger, which offers the Bay Shore top-quality burger topped with bacon, grilled brie and apple slices. Other offerings include portabella, black and blue, southwest (pepperjack cheese, guacamole and salsa), and Chesapeake (topped with a crab cake) burgers. Prices range from $9.99 to $14.99.

Jack and Connie Pennington will be your host and hostess for the evening.

A complimentary “Last Indulgence” dessert bar will be offered from 11 to 11:59 p.m. and all “lawbreakers” present will enjoy a complimentary champagne toast at the the magic moment.

There is no cover charge for the party. You just have to know where the speakeasy is and where to sneak in, and you need to know the special password.

Oh, and Chef Mike emphasized that the kitchen will be closing at 10:30 p.m. I guess even chefs would rather be ringing in the new year with a toast instead of slaving over a grill or slinging a mop.

And one more thing … that password?

It’s “Bee’s Knees.”

Be there or be square.

Or something like that.