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Last week my four sons took me back to Baltimore for what became known as the “Land of Legends” trip. My baseball-loving sons, Brian, Joe, Luke, and Will were eager to meet relatives and my surviving neighborhood sandlot players who could verify that my stories were real. In three short days, all five of us had an adventure we’ll talk about for years.
We toured my Parkville neighborhood including the house I grew up in, met up with my 80-year-old friends, then headed downtown for the Orioles game against the LA Dodgers preceded by a celebration of Cal Ripken’s 30th anniversary of surpassing Lou Gehrig’s consecutive game streak of 2,130. We first visited the childhood home of Babe Ruth at 216 Emory Street in Pigtown, then walked just one block and entered the most magnificent field in baseball … Oriole Park at Camden Yards! Imagine this…. Luke was drafted by the Orioles out of high school and Will named his two sons Brooks and Cal. And even though Luke played professionally in both the National and American Leagues, he had never been in Camden Yards. It was a first for all of us.
And that game was something that may never be repeated again. In the bottom of the 9th, with the Dodgers’ Yamamoto pitching a shut-out, no hitter for 8 and 2/3 innings, and the Dodgers leading 3 to 0 with nobody on base, and 2 outs in the bottom of the 9th …. the Orioles hit a home run. Yamamoto left and relievers came in to get the last out. But they never did. The Orioles got a walk, a hit, and a hit batter loading the bases. They scored again on another walk and scored two more on a bases-loaded single to win the game 4 to 3 ! Unbelievable! Only in Baltimore!
The next day we met with my cousin Penny’s family, and toured Bel Air, Maryland where, in 1957, my family had moved while I was in the 8th grade. It was only a town of 2,000 then, but today’s population is 11,000 and a lot has changed. My favorite places are gone … the movie theater, the underground pool hall we called “The Hole,” and “Turley’s” bowling alley. But my sons and I love playing golf together, so I took them to the Maryland Golf & Country Club founded in 1961 where my brother Ernie and I were in the club’s first group of caddies.
Although MGCC no longer has caddies, I showed my sons the previous location of the caddie room next to the pro shop. Then, having read my memoir “Setting Life’s Course,” Brian asked, “So, Dad, where was that keg of beer when you guys showed up for work?”
Together we relived that unfortunate Sunday morning in 1962 following a big Saturday night party for the new club members. At 6 AM, we curious 16-year-old caddies uncovered a portable bar that was left (with little forethought) sitting only 10 feet from our caddy room front door. By 8 AM, the day became a travesty with ""Bud" on tap, inebriated caddies, and a series of life lessons for both the young and old.
The Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum, CBMM
The next morning we drove down the Eastern Shore toward the small fishing town of Greenbackville, Virginia where my father was born and raised. I spent my childhood summers there with my grandparents as I experienced the life of a crabber with my own rowboat on the Chincoteague Bay. But more importantly, I developed my lifelong appreciation of salt water, fishing, crabbing, oystering, marshlands, boats, harbors, and the people who earn a tough living on the water while appreciating God and the gift of life. Greenbackville became my memory and inspiration behind every painting as a maritime watercolor artist.
At the mouth of the Greenbackville harbor, my grandfather ran a small store. Starting at 4 AM, he supplied bait to the trotliners, gasoline for boats, a dock with a weigh-in station for the day's catch, and snacks for watermen who finished each day sitting in his store telling fantastic stories. One such story involved a ten-foot long, 150-pound shotgun mounted on a flat-bottom skiff called a punt boat. Mr. Crowley, an old waterman, said the “punt gun” could bring down 50 - 75 ducks with a single shot!
Even as a 9-year-old, I believed that story was an exaggeration to get a few chuckles. But I never forgot the story. Then, in 2002, I visited the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in Saint Michaels and there it was! A 10-foot-long punt gun (with an astonishing bore diameter exceeding two inches), mounted horizontally to a punt boat. Although the United States outlawed the practice of market hunting in 1918, the possession of punt guns is still legal. However, their use for migratory waterfowl hunting is prohibited.
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