Day 19: A lazy Saturday

Weather-wise Saturday was probably the nicest day we’ve had so far; sunny, cool and light winds.

I jogged to the cape; Betsy went back to the farm and puttered around town and we took in a small festival at the 16-mile Brewery in nearby Georgetown that featured a band long on loud and short on talent.

We did watch the Kentucky Derby and the coverage featured the words to the song "My Old Kentucky Home". Torturous. Are all of those people really singing those words?

Day 18: A tentative venture north

I don’t have to tell regular blog readers about Delaware’s smallness. In fact, with Kentucky Derby Day approaching and having noticed a plethora of miniature horse farms (I’m not kidding) we’ve been joking recently that there should be a “Delaware Derby” using miniature horses.

Yes folks, it is a small state. However, Lewes is near the southern end and there is much to see and do in the Wilmington area on the northern tip. Thus, we are going to have to do a little more driving (and maybe a little more planning ahead) in the next week or so as we begin to explore historic northern Delaware.

One of our biggest problems with this plan will be getting started. I’m up early each day, of course. However, much of those early hours are frittered away writing this blog and reading the New York Times.

Not long after I get up the workers arrive and start beating on the walls. Incredibly, Betsy seems to sleep through that and does not emerge from her first-floor cave into the bright sunlight of the second floor’s ocean view until 9ish.

Then we have our favorite little things to do in Lewes. Today I once again biked to Cape Henlopen State Park, checked the Osprey Cam (there may be a third egg and Mrs. Osprey was facing the camera; still no sighting (by me) of Mr. Osprey), jogged and walked on the beach, where I saw several Horseshoe crabs (these quite large, prehistoric looking creatures have been designated as the Delaware State Marine Animal and state officials claim there are more of them in Delaware Bay than any other place on earth).

While I was at the cape enjoying myself Betsy was “working”; taking care of the shopping chores by riding her bike down the trail toward Rehoboth to the farm store where she picked up more asparagus, fresh milk, steaks, bacon and other goodies – all of it raised right there on the adjacent farm, which adjoins the western edge of the state park.

By the time these “chores” were finished it was time to eat lunch.

Finally, we took off for northern Delaware. Near the air force base in Dover we broke away from the main highway and took a scenic route that more or less follows the eastern shore of the upper portion of Delaware Bay as it increasingly narrows to the point where it looks more like a river than a bay (and providing a great view of the huge power plant on the New Jersey shore, see photo below).

A large chunk of this portion of Delaware consists of Federal wildlife refuges and conservation areas and is mostly marsh/swamp. Occasionally there will be a road that juts east through the marshland to the shore of the bay/river, where there may or may not be a small collection of houses and possibly a small store.

Eventually this twisty, two-lane road brought us to Delaware City where Betsy is considering ending her bike ride across Delaware. I’m sure there will be more on Delaware City and the bike ride in future posts.

As the photo indicates, the scenic route comes to a rather inglorious (and perhaps somewhat tardy) end just outside Delaware City, on the way to New Castle.

New Castle is where William Penn first set foot in North America and it was an important port city in colonial days. It is also the home of George Read, an influential delegate to the 1787 Constitutional Convention and a signer of the Declaration of Independence (a combination only a few men can claim) even though he famously voted against the declaration.

Read is a family name on Betsy’s mother’s side and her mother and other forebears are buried in the Read Hill Cemetery near Texarkana. One of Betsy’s older brothers was named Read and that is also Tex’s middle name.

At some point in her life, for reasons that are unclear, Betsy’s mother became convinced that she (and therefore Betsy and her siblings and, eventually, Tex) is descended from George Read. She was quite proud of the fact that Read both signed the declaration and participated in drafting the constitution.

However, I don’t think she was fully aware of Read’s true role and his opposition to the declaration.

Read was an attorney and a major player in governing colonial Delaware, which was technically still part of Pennsylvania until just one month before the declaration.

As such Read was one of three Delawareians representing the colony in the Continental Congress when the votes were taken on the declaration in 1776. Reflecting what was probably the majority opinion in Delaware at that time, Read favored continuing to try to work things out with the British and he felt that the colonies were not strong enough to declare independence in 1776; thus the rebellion would be crushed and the cause of liberty would be set back (not to mention that the many prosperous merchants in Delaware would be adversely impacted). This was not an imprudent or unusual position for a politician to take at that time.

The other Delaware delegate to the Continental Congress, Thomas McKean, voted in favor of independence. That meant that the vote of the third delegate, Caesar Rodney, was needed to break the tie. Rodney reportedly rode overnight, 14 hours straight, to get to Philadelphia in record time and break the tie. In a show of unanimity (and great courage) Read signed the declaration even though he had opposed. That signature was considered an act of treason and, had things turned out differently, would have effectively been a death sentence for Read and all of the other signers.

Guess which one (Read or Rodney) portrayed as the hero today?

In the post-revolution Articles of Confederation period both Read and Rodney served as presidents of Delaware (a common term used at the time instead of governor). Like most people in Delaware Read chafed at the weakness of the Federal government under the articles and wanted a stronger Federal government because he felt it was needed to protect the interests of the burgeoning merchant class in the state. He was elected by the state legislature to serve as a senator in the first and second congress under the new constitution.

While I don’t think Betsy shares her mother’s conviction of a link to Read one of the things we definitely wanted to see in New Castle is the George Read house.

Unfortunately, the house was closed for the day, as was the New Castle County Courthouse.

Thus we had to settle for walking the cobblestone streets, puttering around in the Read garden (where George’s house once stood) and scouting out Betsy’s route to ride her bike across the state on the trip home, which also featured a stop at Delaware’s only rest area, which is very nice.

A late supper of asparagus, pork chops and drippings-infused rice topped off an interesting, relaxing day.

Day 17: Operation “Diamond Check Off” stuns world

{The following post is based on a briefing paper distributed to reporters at an undisclosed location in Lewes, Delaware}

At 10:37 hours Eastern Daylight Time on 5 May, 2011 a mini-van with Texas plates crossed over the Delaware Memorial Bridge approximately 13 kilometers south, south east of Wilmington, Delaware; entering undetected into the sovereign state of New Jersey.

Using the latest in mini-van stealth technology the vehicle - codenamed "Homer" and carrying two veteran baseball park operatives - proceeded undetected along the New Jersey Turnpike for 198 kilometers before crossing into a corner of the target compound at a place the local inhabitants call "Staten Island".

An intense firefight immediately ensued with the locals as Homer negotiated a minefield of potholes and construction barriers that had been set out on the roads and bridges leading to the target, which is code-named "Citi Field".

At 13:31 hours EDT the final security layer was breached and the two veteran baseball park visitors took their seats inside Citi Field. For nearly three hours an eerie calm prevailed despite a bloody battle of walks, errors and poor base running in the large, green yard-like area inside the facility. Despite the infiltration of thousands of spectators from San Francisco who openly flaunted the locals by wearing garb emblazoned with phrases like “San Francisco Giants: 2010 World Champions” the New York Mets prevailed 5-2 on a sunny, cool, windy day.

With the mission successfully completed, but still in extreme danger in a foreign state far from Delaware, the two operatives regained their transport vehicle and raced backed through the minefield of potholes. During this intense two-hour battle they were subjected to relentless attack from other vehicles. Several times drivers in other vehicles blared warning horns and waved their arms in an odd, counterintuitive, single-digit salute to Delaware’s preeminence. Eventually the two operatives regained the New Jersey Turnpike where they again traversed the state undetected before crossing the Delaware River at the same point south-southeast of Wilmington at 18:15 hours EDT.

“The success of this mission proves that; with the proper equipment, detailed advance planning and rigorous training, virtually anything is possible,” Homer pilot Dave Pasley said in a prepared statement released after the mission was accomplished. He declined numerous requests for interviews.

Navigator Betsy Pasley was less circumspect, giddily telling a reporter; “I don’t think anyone even knew we were in New Jersey.”

Indeed, at the exact same time the mission was unfolding U.S. President Barack H. Obama was meeting with law enforcement officials in another part of the same compound the Pasley had invaded (which is known locally as New York City). The president gave no indication that he even knew the Pasleys were in town.

Although no one was injured on the treacherous mission, and there was no apparent damage to the transport vehicle, it was still a costly excursion for taxpayers because the operatives were forced to pay $55.90 in bribes (known locally as tolls) to cross New Jersey and the bridges leading into the compound; and to park the transport vehicle during the final assault on Citi Field, which is Dave’s 40^th major league ballpark and Betsy’s 38^th.

Following are some of the photographic images of the mission which have been de-classified and authorized for distribution. There has been some controversy that not all of the photos are being released. In particular skeptics in some quarters have been clamoring, without success, for photographic evidence of the reaction of a NJTP toll collector when Dave reportedly told him to; "Keep the (5 cents) change and give Gov. Christie a big hug for me." 

                                             Laden with equipment Betsy approaches the final target.

Even though the advance intelligence gathering was excellent, we were still stunned to find ourselves seated directly behind Cy Young winner Tim Lincecum, who had shut out the Mets the night before.

While the overall mission was a success both operatives conceded that they were disappointed they were not able to get a closer look and a better photograph of the cult figure known as "Mr. Met".

"One of my goals in life has been to actually meet Mr. Met and to squeeze that big, round head with my own hands," Dave Pasley said in his prepared statement. "I don't think there is any question that Mr. Met is one of the coolest mascots of any team, anywhere in the world. Because we were not able to get close to him, or even really get a very good photo of him, I still have an emptiness inside even though the overall mission was a success."

Day 17: Poem today; news more likely tomorrow

Cold and rain and wind

Read, cooked, shopped, jogged, blogged

Big travels tomorrow

Day 16: Greek tragedy concludes on an upbeat note

It’s a little disconcerting when your only child takes on his first acting role since playing the part of Freddy Flounder as a second grader at Locke-Hill Elementary School and chooses, as a senior at St. John’s College, to assume the role of Orestes; a guy who kills his mother because he’s angry that she killed his father.

The play, known as The Eumenides, begins with Tex on center stage; where he is clearly distraught (he is wearing a mask, as are all of the other actors in the play) in the aftermath of the matricide/mariticide.  

In an oblique, unintended nod to the Ancients, Betsy and I watched stone-faced from our seats in the audience at the Francis Scott Key Auditorium on the campus of St. John’s College.

To be clear; our stoniness was not due to the subject matter but rather because the dialogue was entirely in Greek (to be more precise, Attic Greek).

I can honestly say that The Eumenides was Greek to me.

The Eumenides is the final play of the three-part Oresteia. While, as the name implies, the character of Orestia is central to the story it is not the leading role. Tex spoke only once before exiting stage right, never to return (until the final credits and bows, of course).

Despite the dark subject matter the story is also one of redemption, or perhaps equivocation, as Apollo’s arguments for mercy win out over the forces of revenge.

The kids were very impressive, delivering incredibly detailed, complex lines in Greek. Furthermore, The Eumenides was followed by another dialogue-heavy play (Tartuffe), with separate actors, that was conducted entirely in French; which was, of course, also Greek to me.

Considering that SJC has no drama department or theater teachers or anything of that sort it was an impressive effort.

While it was certainly among the highlights, the play in Annapolis (and the subsequent two-hour drive home to Lewes) was only the end of our day.

We began the post-bin Laden era with a trip to Dover Air Force Base.

DAFB is the U.S. military’s only port mortuary. As such the remains of all 5,885 U.S. service members that have have been reported to have died (so far) in Iraq and Afghanistan have arrived home to U.S. soil here at this sprawling facility on the outskirts of Delaware’s capital city. Also worth noting, the remains of the 184 people killed at the Pentagon on September 11, 2001 were cared for here at DAFB.

Oddly (at least, to me, it seems odd), there was virtually no mention of the port mortuary mission that we saw anywhere at the base; just a small reference on one of the many interpretive signs at the base museum.

There was, however, plenty to see and learn at the museum about DAFB’s primary mission, which is the air mobility command that airlifts supplies and troops on missions around the world, and re-fuels aircraft in flight.

They have an impressive collection of the increasingly massive cargo planes that the USAF has developed since the base opened on Dec. 17, 1941 and we spent a couple of hours looking at the exhibits and clambering around inside some of these monsters.

They also had some non-transport aircraft that have been based here over the years including a Cold-War-era jet that was designed to deliver a nuclear bomb. The concept was that the jet would approach the target flying upward, nearly vertical to the face of the earth. The nuke would then be fired and it would start out on that same upward trajectory, beginning an arc that would (thanks to Mr. Newton) eventually carry it to the ground (and detonation) at a distant point, hopefully somewhere near the target.

Meanwhile, the jet would arc in the opposite direction, flying upside down and going as fast as possible in the other direction, in an effort to avoid obliteration in the nuclear blast.

An explanatory sign in front of the plane noted that this was not a very accurate method of delivering a bomb but, because it was a nuclear bomb, accuracy was not really all that important.

It was just a short drive from DAFB to the Delaware Capitol (which they call Legislative Hall) in downtown Dover.

There we glommed onto a tour group of middle school kids, none of whom knew the name of their current U.S. senators or the vice-president (fortunately, about half of them appeared to know who George Washington was).

The tour guide was really good and we ask her a bunch of questions (after the tour) before going into the house chamber to watch the legislators declare the month of May as “Poppy Month” (honoring the veterans of foreign wars).

Little Miss Poppy of Milton, Delaware (home of the Dogfish Head Brewery) was on hand to lead the pledge of allegiance.

From there we walked over to Kent County Courthouse (we are now two-thirds of the way finished with our quest to visit every courthouse in the state of Delaware) and went inside the “Old Capitol Building” next door to the courthouse, where we got another excellent tour from a converted Pennsylvanian.

Between these two tour guides we clarified several things about Delaware’s origins.

Delaware is quite proud of being the “first state” but that is something of a misnomer. What they are referring to is that Delaware was the first state to ratify the U.S. Constitution, in 1787. However, if you think about it there is no such thing as a “first state” per se; because the 13 colonies all became “states” and ceased to be colonies upon the declaration of independence. And, of course, they were states under the Articles of Confederation from 1781 to 1789. Furthermore (and even though our tour guide was reluctant to admit this) Delaware was the LAST of the 13 colonies to be formed, getting the official designation of its separation from Pennsylvania just one month before independence was declared in 1776.

We also discussed at some length the Mason-Dixon line, which I have been reading up on.

The primary reason that Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon were contracted for the survey was to settle a long-standing dispute between the Penn and Calvert families over the portion of the Delmarva peninsula that belonged to Maryland and the portion that belonged to Pennsylvania.

To make a long story somewhat shorter, the Penns (in un-Quakerly fashion) screwed the Calverts. As a result today’s Delaware is (if you can believe this) somewhat LARGER that it would otherwise have been.

Mason-Dixon were supposed to draw the southern boundary beginning here in Lewes/Cape Henlopen but “mistakenly” began 20 miles south of here at Fenwick Island (which is south of Rehoboth Beach).

Interestingly, King Charles II himself fixed the northern boundary by using a compass to draw a 12 mile arc around New Castle (which was then the county seat of what is now New Castle County).

The survey took four years (1763-67) and it left a wedge between the east-west line that forms the southern border of Pennsylvania and the 12-mile arc. It was not until an Act of Congress in 1921 that the wedge was finally and officially determined to be a part of Delaware.

Day 15: A bike ride to Rehoboth (and back)

Our primary activity today was a bike ride from Lewes to Rehoboth Beach, via the very lovely Junction & Breakwater Trail.

This was more than a pleasure trip however, because we picked up a growler of beer at Dogfish and some fresh fish for supper at the Big Fish Market.

I'll let the photos tell the story, starting with downtown Lewes, some photos taken along the trail and some in Rehoboth.

We think this might be the farm where we are getting our fresh pork chops, milk and asparagus.

Day 14: Our quietest day so far

Sorry, nothing particularly interesting to report for Sunday; probably our quietest day so far. Even the photo is lame, a gratuitous sunset image from an earlier day.

In that same spirit of "yesterday's news is more interesting than today's" I am posting the following video that Betsy took of the introduction of the SJC croquet team on Saturday.

We left Annapolis in the late morning and arrived back in Lewes about 1 p.m. Betsy spent most of the afternoon cursing at her computer because it had decided to display the screen image vertically rather than horizontally.

I rode my bike out to Cape Henlopen State Park, jogged a bit on the trails and explored the park roads and beach access points more thoroughly.

What a wonderful park. It’s diverse and accessible but not overdone. Like a lot of public places in Delaware it is functional, understated and well-maintained.

I checked in on Mr. and Mrs. Osprey at the Nature Center, via Osprey Cam. Mrs. Osprey has laid a second egg and she was sitting atop them in the nest. Mr. Osprey was nowhere to be seen – but I am sure he was probably hard at work somewhere, providing for his family as all males of every species are inclined to do.

Also I came across a sign that more thoroughly explained the capture of the German submarine that Lewesites are so proud of. It turns out that the U-boat captain gave up voluntarily in 1945, after Germany had surrendered, and this took place about 50 miles out at sea.

Thankfully Betsy was able to re-horizontal the computer screen and calm down enough to cook a delicious supper from the fresh, home-grown foods purchased at the little market she has discovered nearby. Pork chops cooked in bacon grease, asparagus and milk – all grown/raised about five miles from here. Throw in a little rice cooked with garlic and mushrooms and dredged in the leftover bacon grease---mmmm.

Wait a minute, somebody call 911! I think I’m having a heart attack!!