Secrets of The Appalachian Trail

Benton MacKaye, originator of the Appalachian Trail

The Appalachian Trail is iconic. You’ve probably heard of it—the 2,190+ foot long hiking trail nicknamed the “AT” that stretches all the way from Georgia to Maine? And if you’ve ever lived anywhere near the East Coast of the U.S., chances are you either know someone or know someone who knows someone who hiked the entire trail.[1]  This massive undertaking, known as “thru-hiking” is a pop culture trend —there are hundreds of books detailing people’s experiences thru-hiking the AT, the most famous being Grandma Gatewood’s Walk (the inspiring story of the first woman who thru-hiked the AT alone at age 67 and who used her celebrity to save the trail from extinction),[2] Hollywood movies about thru-hikes that went wrong — both comedically (A Walk in the Woods) and horrifically (Beacon Point)[3], and at least one college offering students credit for accomplishing thru-hikes![4] And then there are those folks who love a challenge and make it their life’s goal to break an AT thru-hiking record, such as the fastest time to complete the trail (Karel Sabbe: 41 days, 7 hours, and 39 minutes), most hikes completed (Warren Doyle: 9 thru-hikes and 9 section hikes) and oldest person to thru-hike the AT (M.J. “Nimblewill Nomad” Eberhart: 83 years old).[5]

Pinnacles Picnic Area, Shenandoah National Park, VA

But the Appalachian Trail isn’t just about thru-hiking. In fact, Benton MacKaye, the man who first proposed the concept of the AT wasn’t thinking about thru-hiking at all. He was grieving the loss of his wife, Jessie Hardy “Betty” Stubbs MacKaye, who suffered bouts of severe anxiety and committed suicide by drowning herself in the East River at the age of 45. In 1921, MacKaye, a forester, conservationist, and community planner, devastated by his wife’s tragic death, left their home in New York City to stay at his friend Harris Whitaker’s farm in western New Jersey that was “high in the mountains…and not a soul in sight.”[6] Here, MacKaye turned to the task of finding solutions to what he called “the problem of living”— the increased stresses upon the population caused by rapid urbanization and growing economic disparities between the cities and rural areas in the aftermath of WWI. MacKaye envisioned a footpath along the ridges of the Appalachian mountains accessible to the residents of metropolitan areas along the Eastern seaboard that would not just promote economic well-being for small towns in the foothills, but also provide a form of wilderness therapy for city dwellers battling mental health issues.[7]  

Jessie "Betty" Hardy Stubbs MacKaye

In October 1921, long before science confirmed the detrimentaleffects of stress upon mental health, in his groundbreaking essay proposing “An Appalachian Trail” that was edited by Whitaker and published in The Journal of the American Institute of Architects, MacKaye wrote: ”Most sanitariums now established are perfectly useless to those afflicted with mental disease—the most terrible, usually, of any disease. Many of these sufferers could be cured. But not merely by ‘treatment.’ They need acres not medicine. Thousands of acres of this mountain land should be devoted to them with whole communities planned and equipped for their cure.”[8]

Benton MacKaye’s words cut right to the core when you know howpersonally affected he was by his wife’s suicide—a tragic consequence of untreated mental illness. It’s highly likely that Benton was thinking about Betty when he conceived of a multi-state hiking trail because long-distance walking and hiking were among Betty’s favorite pastimes, along with championing progressive causes. A few years before she married Benton, Betty organized and led a walk from New York City to the state capital of Albany—a distance of 148 miles—to advocate for a woman’s suffrage bill! This feat attracted considerable media attention and undoubtedly attracted the attention of MacKaye too as it’s no secret that the MacKaye’s marriage was a partnership of political activism as well as mutual affection.[9]

But why has the origin story of the Appalachian Trail remained asecret when the AT is the most famous footpath in the world attracting 3million visitors each year? I’ve been hiking the AT for decades now, as a“day-hiker,”[10] (someone who hikes the trail all day and goes back to a warm bed at night, or maybe a local brew pub first, a hot tub second, and a warm bed third). I’ve hiked in about half of thestates the AT runs through—VT, NY, PA, MD, VA, WV, and TN. So why did I just learn the story of the MacKayes this year? On my birthday, I decided to visit the Appalachian Trail Conservancy (“ATC”) headquarters, located at the “psychological midpoint” of the AT in Harpers Ferry, WV.[11] I was pleased to meet Dave, concierge of all things AT-related, who bears a striking resemblance to Santa Claus (except skinnier). When I asked Dave about the distinction between the ATC and the Appalachian Mountain Club (“AMC”)[12]of which I’m a member, Dave gave me a detailed explanation of the AT’s origins and directed me to an exhibit containing photographs of Benton MacKaye and excerpts from his illuminating essay, including his idea to utilize the AT’s “acres” as a “cure” for mental illness. I was so touched by MacKaye’s words that tears sprang to my eyes. But I knew I had just scratched the surface; I wanted to learn everything I could about the fascinating couple underlying the myth of the Appalachian Trail.

Dave & Me at ATC HQ, Harpers Ferry, WV

The more I read about the lives of Benton & Betty MacKaye, the more realized why their story might have gotten left out of the AT legend. The MacKayes were socialists who lived during the “First Red Scare” of 1919-1920, which was a time when Americans feared a communist or anarchist revolution in America much like the Bolshevik revolution that had just occurred in Russia in 1917.[13] Although the folks in the MacKayes’ social circle may not have demonized them for their socialist political affiliation, people outside of that circle thought their ideas and tactics were too radical.  For example, when the MacKayes were living in Wisconsin, Benton lost his job at The Milwaukee Leader in the wake of Betty’s controversial proposal for a “bride strike,” where women would withhold sex from their husbands to force them to stop engaging in violence and wars. Brilliant idea but not well received at the time. Sadly, it was after the MacKayes relocated to New York City that Betty’s mental state began rapidly deteriorating. Further evidence suggests that Benton’s theoretical differences with other Appalachian Trail Conference leaders underpinned the reason why he was not chosen to be part of the Executive Committee, despite the fact he delivered the keynote speech at the conference and drafted the constitution.[14]

In the following decades, MacKaye became increasingly disillusioned with the progress of the Appalachian Trail project because he envisioned the AT as a wilderness trail that would serve as a catalyst for social transformation, not necessarily a continuous trail that would serve as a recreational resource as envisioned by other leaders who represented the interests of the hiking community. While the AT may not be the pristine wilderness that MacKaye imagined (for example, Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park that MacKaye fought against unsuccessfully is traversed by 1.2 million visitors each year!), that doesn’t mean MacKaye’s transformative vision has gone unfulfilled.

"Nikko" on Skyline Drive, Shenandoah National Park, VA

I have always thought of the Appalachian Trail as a haven—a place of refuge where you can escape noise, pollution, work and family stresses, the toxic political climate, you name it. When you’re out on the AT, everything else disappears. There’s only the white-blazed trail, and the serenity and challenge it offers. The AT is notoriously rocky, so you’ve got to wear boots with good ankle support. To prevent injury, every step you take needs to be a mindful one. You’ll want to choose the pace that works for you—fast enough to maintain your momentum so that you can get to your destination and back before nightfall—but not so fast that you can’t stop to take in the beautiful scenery, eat a snack, take a few pix, and chat with other hikers. There’s an instant feeling of community out on the trail because you know hundreds of feet have trodden where yours have just landed. But you don’t think about how old those hikers were or how in-shape they were or what race they were or what gender they were. You’re immune from the “cancer of comparison” because none of those speculatory statistics will help you achieve your goal, so that self-defeating cycle of negative thoughts (known as rumination) will drift out of your mind if it ever entered in the first place. All that’s left is a sublime sense of peace.[15]

Toadstool, AT trailhead, Great Smoky Mountains National Park, TN

For me, what’s most valuable about hiking the AT is that it gives everyone the chance to engage in a single-minded physical activity surrounded by nature and free from distraction, a rare opportunity in today’s world of frantic multi-tasking in the face of an endless stream of competing demands. Some people call it a Zen-like spiritual practice, some call it "getting in the zone," but no matter what you call it, science supports Benton MacKaye’s hypothesis that walking in nature provides measurable mental health benefits, including the reduction of anxiety and depression.[16] Some of this has to do with endorphins, the “feel-good” hormones our body produces when we exercise, but it’s our reconnection with nature that’s the key to the mental clarity and freedom from rumination that distinguishes hiking from working out at the gym.[17]  If he were alive today, I believe Benton MacKaye would be pleased to know there’s a non-profit all-volunteer organization called HIKE for Mental Health that’s dedicated to organizing hikes to promote the mental health benefits of hiking and raising funds for mental health research and trail conservation.[18]

Ascent to Mary's Rock, Shenandoah National Park, VA

During the COVID pandemic, when wewere all coping with unprecedented stressors without our usual social outlets, I started hiking portions of the Appalachian Trail in Shenandoah National Park between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and by now, it’s become a tradition. The looming approach of these two holidays arriving in rapid succession at the end of the year never fails to fill me with a sense of dread, and I’m not the only one. “Holiday Dread” is a very real thing. Google it and hundreds of articles will pop up. According to a 2019 survey, 61% of Americans dreaded the holidays; a 2021 survey put the number at 48%.[19]  An obvious cause is the fear of overspending in light of the exaggerated focus on obligatory gift-giving, which has intensified due to inflation. But there are also the emotional pangs from missing loved ones who have died or family members estranged by feuds or divorce. And what about just feeling worn-out and exhausted at the end of a long year, like a runner at the end of a marathon, craving rest and relaxation rather than overeating and incessant conversation? But I think it’s the unrealistic expectation of a month-long state of cheerfulness that’s the worst part of all, like when people tell you to smile and you just want to punch them in the face.

This year, on the weekend after Thanksgiving, I hiked the 7.1 miles of the AT from the Pinnacles Picnic Area to Mary’s Rock and back. Although it had been a year ago when I last completed this hike, it felt as if I had just hiked it yesterday. When I reached the summit, which is a special place to me that I envision in my prayers, I was thrilled to find it looked exactly as I had pictured it in my mind! On the way back down, I was suddenly struck by the idea to write this piece about the MacKayes, the origins of the AT, and the mental health benefits of hiking (there’s that cool mental clarity thing again). With Christmas just around the corner, it hasn’t been easy to carve out the time to get these thoughts out of my head and into the computer. But I felt it was absolutely necessary that I did write this now, if only to convince you that it’s precisely at times like these, where you feel the agonizing constraints of time and money and social pressure tightening like a Victorian lady’s corset that you really need to get out in the fresh air and take a hike! Not to diminish your importance here, but the world won’t fall apart if you take a day off from your daily routine. Ask a friend or neighbor to walk your dog. Leave some money for your kids to order takeout. Tell your boss you’re taking time off to fulfill some personal obligations. Give yourself the gift of hiking this Christmas because you’re worth it! Your body, mind, and soul will be eternally grateful.

Mary's Rock Summit, Shenandoah National Park, VA

[1]This probability is an example of the “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon” principle.See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Six_Degrees_of_Kevin_Bacon#:~:text=Six%20Degrees%20of%20Kevin%20Bacon%20or%20Bacon's%20Law%20is%20a,ultimately%20leads%20to%20prolific%20American

[2] Veryfew people knew about the AT before Emma Gatewood appeared on TV and SportsIllustrated to shed light on the unsafe stretches of trail and issue a call toaction to maintain and preserve the trail for posterity. For more about“Grandma Gatewood” and her biography written by Ben Montgomery, see https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/18527222

[3]This article reviewing the best AT movies (including documentaries where youget a sense of reality) is featured on a blog written by thru-hikers forthru-hikers that also contains a lot of good resources and practical tips foranyone interested in hiking the AT. https://appalachiantrail.com/20140806/10-best-appalachian-trail-movies/

[4]For more info, please see this article about the Emory & Henry College“Semester-A-Trail” program at https://www.backpacker.com/news-and-events/news/emory-and-henry-college-credit-hiking-appalachian-trail/

[5] “NimblewillNomad” is Eberhart’s trail name. Thru-hikers are like an unofficial club thathas established its own trail culture, jargon, and etiquette. A well-known featureof trail culture is the use of “trail names,” which are nicknames thru-hikersuse to refer to each other on the trail. You’re not supposed to make up yourown trail name, your “trail family” are supposed to give it to you, and dependingon how sick and twisted they are, it can be based on something very stupid or embarrassingyou’ve done that will literally follow you wherever you go. For some of  worst trail names ever, see https://www.reddit.com/r/AppalachianTrail/comments/wg90do/worst_trail_names_2022_edition/

[6] FromHarris Whitaker’s letter to Benton MacKaye in 1921, excerpted from TheTragic Origins of the Appalachian Trail (thedailybeast.com)

[7]For more about the life and career of Benton MacKaye, see AppalachianTrail Histories | Benton MacKaye · Builders (appalachiantrailhistory.org)

[8] Ifyou’re a hiker or a nature lover, I strongly encourage you to read MacKaye’sentire proposal. It’s beautifully written from the heart, but also incredibly visionaryand forward-thinking even by today’s standards. AnAppalachian Trail: A Project in Regional Planning | Appalachian TrailConservancy

[9]For more about the life and work of Betty MacKaye, see Biographical Sketchof Jessie Belle Hardy Stubbs MacKaye | Alexander Street Documents

[10] Fora great beginner’s guide to day hiking the AT, see https://appalachiantrail.org/explore/hike-the-a-t/day-hiking/

[11] Establishedin 1925, the Appalachian Trail Conservancy  (“ATC”) is the leading organization tasked by Congressto oversee the maintenance, management, and conservation of the AT andsurrounding lands. https://appalachiantrail.org/explore/faqs/.The precise geographical midpoint of the AT is inaccessible to the generalpublic, so Harpers Ferry is considered the psychological midpoint because it’s closeto the midpoint and accessible to the general public because it’s adjacent to aNational Park.

[12]The Appalachian Mountain Club (“AMC”) is comprised of many local chaptersstretching from the Northeast through the Mid-Atlantic that provide volunteeropportunities for education, conservation, and recreation along the AT. The AMCchapters up in New Hampshire and Maine are particularly robust, offering lovelyvisitor accommodations in lodges and cabins, as well as a variety of courses fromwilderness first aid to landscape and wildlife painting. Home | Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC)(outdoors.org)

[13]For more about the First Red Scare, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_Red_ScareAppalachian

[14]See “Success and Failure” in this wonderful article published on the ATCwebsite. AppalachianTrail Histories | Benton MacKaye · Builders (appalachiantrailhistory.org)

[15]By extolling the mental health benefits of hiking, I am by no means suggestingthat going out for a day hike will eradicate all forms of mental illness andsuicidal tendencies, only that there is scientific evidence indicating that it mayimprove symptoms and possibly prevent suicide. Certainly, if you or someone youknow has been having thoughts of suicide or is severely depressed, contact theAmerican Foundation for Suicide Prevention at https://afsp.org/

[16] Agreat example is this 2105 Stanford study https://news.stanford.edu/2015/06/30/hiking-mental-health-063015/

[17] Thiswarm-hearted blog post written by a thru-hiker discusses 4 ways that hikingimproves your mental health https://thetrek.co/4-ways-hiking-improves-your-mental-health/and it contains a link to a scientific study showing that increasing ourexposure to nature reduces rumination and promotes mental well-being.  https://www.pnas.org/doi/pdf/10.1073/pnas.1510459112

[18]For more information about HIKE for Mental Health, or to donate or volunteer,see https://www.hikeformentalhealth.org/

[19]See https://www.fox5dc.com/news/61-percent-of-americans-dread-the-holidays-because-of-spending-survey-suggests and https://www.lendingtree.com/credit-cards/study/holiday-shopping-sentiments-survey/



THE BRUCE

Like most kids, I loved games of make-believe. One of my favorites was playing spy. Whether it was lying prostrate in the back of my parents’ station wagon imagining myself being chased by Russians (seatbelts were optional then), jotting down quirky observations ofpeople in a little green notebook, hiding at the top of the stairs to eavesdrop on the grown-ups, or donning my mom’s dresses and heels to form a disguise, I was always pretending. Commonplace events took a sinister turn. No one was who they seemed, and every thing was a mystery I was determined to solve. In other words, I wanted to be Nancy Drew!

For those of you who their cut their teeth on those books, you’ll remember the girl detective was adept at managing watercraft and many of the stories took place near lakes or involved water sports. Nancy Drew would have been right at home in a place I visited last June - the Bruce Peninsula.[1]

In every good mystery story the setting, whether it be exotic or mundane, is as important as the protagonists. So let’s start with the basics of the Bruce Peninsula - location. “The Bruce,” as it’s known in local vernacular, juts out like an index finger into the crystal cool waters of Lake Huron, approximately 250 km northwest of Toronto. It’s part of Bruce County, Ontario and hosts two national parks; Bruce Peninsula NP and Fathom Five National Marine Park. Some of what makes the area geologically unique is that is contains part of the Niagara Escarpment[2] on the east side along the Georgian Bay. This contributes to an unusual phenomenon botanists find interesting in that the hardiness zones on the peninsula change from east to west rather than north to south as in most places, with the cooler side being on the east as elevations rise. (More about plants later).

The Bruce is an important part of the migratory bird flyway and a unique natural area, being home to the largest remaining untouched forest in Southern Ontario, otherwise known as a “mega-woodland” where you can find some of the oldest trees in North America and many other plant and animal species like black bear and Eastern Massasauga rattlesnake. While there may be plenty of wild creatures, there isn’t much on the Bruce in terms of creature comforts. That’s part of its allure, but it also means you need to go prepared. (Nancy was always infinitely prepared, you’ll recall.)

As you head north from Toronto, you’ll find quaint little towns like Orangeville and Owen Sound where the activity is centered along main streets flanked by funky shops and restaurants. Eventually this gives way to the more sparsely populated Highway 6, an evergreen-lined, two-lane road which transects The Bruce vertically from northto south. Along it, you’ll find a few hardware stores, the ubiquitous Tim Horton’s, a grocery store, and a few mom-and-pop fish ‘n chips stands, where you can gear up and have a snack.

The Bruce is a goldmine of outdoor activities. In fact, if you’re not partial to fishing, hiking, camping, kayaking, or boating, there’s little else to attract you – unless you consider pure, unadulterated nature insignificant. I wasn’t there to do any of those things, though. I was part of a convocation known as the Native Orchid Conference,[3] and the Bruce Peninsula (specifically, the town of Tobermory) was the locale for the organization’s annual symposium. In case you were wondering … the Native Orchid Conference or NOC is a non-profit group focused on the study and conservation of native, mainly terrestrial orchids of North America. Consisting of members from around the globe, the organization’s primary activity is hosting a yearly conference, where participants listen to scientific lectures before heading off into the bush to find and photograph flowers.

Tobermory is a like a shining pot of gold waiting for you at the end of Route 6. It sits at the northernmost point of the peninsula where two harbors, Big Tub and Little Tub, carve themselves into the landscape. Most of the activity centers on Little Tub Harbor and its marina. There you’ll find The Tobermory Princess, a modest, family-run hotel with restaurant. You’ll also find eclectic boutiques focused on all things nautical and outdoorsy, quaint coffee shops, and restaurants like the Tobermory Brewing Company and Grill, which serves up hefty burgers, a healthy pumpkin and sunflower seed hummus and some tasty brews. But you can’t leave the Bruce without having at least one fish n’ chips meal complete with vinegar in a spray bottle! Lee’s was touted as the place to get it, but unfortunately our limited schedule precluded us from having the full Tobermory experience. A good excuse to go back!

At the heart of Tobermory is narrow Little Tub Harbor. Here is where you can park your boat or charter one for a snorkel tour or a dive. Tobermory happens to be the “freshwater scuba diving capital” of the world with 24 shipwrecks and a unique underwater topography that divers find appealing. From Little Tub Harbor one can also get on board the MS Chi-Cheemaun (Ojibwe for “Big Canoe”), a ferry providing daily passenger/vehicle service between Tobermory and the town of South Baymouth on Manatoulin Island, the world’s largest freshwater island.  But our group of conference members were on a special mission, so we opted for the jet boat via Blue Heron Cruises[4] to take us to Flowerpot Island. Some housekeeping here: Joining the cruise takes a bit of maneuvering. The ticket office is in one location, car parking in another. A short but steep walk through town takes you to where your tickets are validated before gathering at the embarkation point.

This is where the plot, and pardon the pun, the fog thickens. Although the Great Lakes have an overall moderating effect on climate, if you’ve spent any time there, you know how mercurial the weather can be, particularly in summer. The morning we set out for Flowerpot Island was rainy and cool. As we boarded, our skipper passed out blue plastic ponchos – more to keep our bums from getting damp than to mitigate the rain and mist. We settled into our seats and off we went on the Flowerpot Express!

The unique rock formations that lend the island its name are formally known as sea stacks.[5] These formed thousands of years ago when the last glaciers retreated. Flower Pot Island is composed of dolomite, which was strong enough to survive the grinding of the glaciers. After the last ice age, when the glaciers retreated, surface water filtered through cracks in the earth and eroded “softer” rock behind the formations. Wind, rain, and wave action did the rest, resulting in the towers of rock we see today.

Remember, the objective of our visit was to observe the plethora of orchid species which occur naturally and in abundance on The Bruce. Yellow Lady’s Slippers, elusive Coral Roots, and ethereal Listera cordata with their millimeter-sized blossoms were our targets. But the gems of the Bruce are Calypso bulbosa or the Fairy Slipper orchid. Calypso are diminutive, rare, and quite beautiful, which puts them at the top of most orchid hunters’ checklists.

As in any good novel, there are plot twists to follow and problems to overcome. It was cool and wet like everywhere else in the eastern half of North America last year. Want to see a grown man cry? Tell him the bloom time of the orchids is a week or two behind schedule because of below normal temperatures. But don’t fear – orchid hunters are perennial optimists. So what if the plants aren’t in bloom? We can still look at leaves and inflorescences in spike. So what if it’s raining and the ground is saturated? We can still writhe on our bellies to find just the right angle to point our macro lenses. However, Calypso are an entirely different animal. They’re the Holy Grail, and some people will stop at nothing to find them.

With wooded trails, hidden coves, mist, and place names like Devil’s Monument, Old Woman’s River, Singing Sands, Cave Point, and Spirit Rock, The Bruce is an ideal place for nature lovers who like a little intrigue mixed in with their botanizing. And yes, orchid hunters are not immune to some minor subterfuge in order to have the plants all to themselves. Sleuths refer to them as “red herrings,” but in the orchid world it’s known as the vague direction, the slip, or failure to divulge. Some of this has merit. Unscrupulous people with heavy feet can cause damage – or even worse, dig up plants. When a few people in our group got wind of the exact location of a few Calypso, they sent the majority of us off on a wildgoose chase culminating in a dead-end trail. Said scofflaws surreptitiously went off trail, found the plants, and returned gleefully boasting to the rest of us about their “good luck.” Criminal!

Orchid hunting is a lot like spy work. There are clues given by fellow explorers. There are hazards – black flies, mosquitoes, bogs of uncertain depth, ticks, chiggers – all must be overcome to reach your goal. You sometimes have to “trespass.” You frequently rely on cryptic messages to get to the final prize. You get help on where to look fromclues like companion plants – in this case, false Solomon’s seal, trillium, and Indian cucumber root. But in the end, just as Nancy always solves the case and the bad guys get exposed and all is well with the world, the same was true for us. We found the orchids, took our photos, and reveled in nature’s mysteries and the beauty of the Bruce Peninsula. Although I’m pretty sure Nancy Drew would have gotten those fish n’ chips!

Travel Notes:

Bruce Peninsula essentials: (1) Apassport (if you’re not Canadian); (2) Rain gear; (3) Insect repellent; (4) Hiking shoes; (5) Dress in layers; (6) Camera

Other Notes:

*If you’re really adventurous you can volunteer to man oneof the Flowerpot Island Lighthouse. It’s a 3 week gig. Caretaker duties include performing light maintenance and greeting visitors. 

*Parking: The biggest mystery on The Bruce is the obsessionwith parking. In Tobermory and surrounds you’ll find parking kiosks throughout the park, even along wooded roads.


[1] The Bruce Peninsula wasnamed for James Bruce, 8th Earl of Elgin and Governor General of Canada from 1847-1854. One of his less savory claims to fame is the burning of the Old Summer Palace in Beijing during the Second Opium War while holding the position of High Commissioner and Plenipotentiary of China and the Far East.

[2] The Niagara Escarpment is essentially a steep slope running in an east/west direction from New York and Ontario through Michigan and Wisconsin into Illinois. The area holds a UNESCO World Biosphere Reserve designation as it has some of the oldest forest ecosystem in North America. As its name implies, the escarpment is best known as the cliff over which Niagara Falls descends.

[3]Native Orchid Conference: https://www.nativeorchidconference.info/

[4] Blue Heron Cruises: https://www.cruisetobermory.com/

[5] Point of clarification. SeaStacks can be found on the Bruce, not Sleestaks, which are only known to exist on The Land of the Lost. See https://landofthelost.fandom.com/wiki/Sleestak



Annapolis Sailing School

From my seat at the helm, it looked like our boat was coming in close enough to the dock, but our approach wasn’t pretty enough for my sailing instructor, a fastidious Belgian named Phil. On Phil’s cue, I tacked and we glided into the space behind the row of boats perfectly parallel to the dock with only a few inches to spare. Then, like Jehovah when he’s pleased, (not when he’s pissed-off), a deep sonorous voice called out loudly from out of the heavens: “GOOD JOB! WAY TO GO!” punctuated by raucous cheers and applause. “Could that voice be talking to me?” I wondered, “Where’s it coming from? Who could it be?"

After we disembarked, Phil showed me how to tie up and de-rig the boat; I tried my best to imitate his meticulous knot-tying techniques, but the distracting questions kept coming: “Was I having a mystical experience? Or a psychotic break?” While bending over and rolling up the mainsail, I saw 2 feet. “Oh no, it’s a visual hallucination now, “I thought as I looked up and saw that the feet were attached to legs, attached to a barrel-chested torso, attached to a round mustachioed face with a jolly grin stretching from ear to ear. I stood up, thinking: “If they’re going to take me away in a straitjacket, I might as well go bravely like Joan of Arc. It can’t be that bad…Maybe I won’t have to pay taxes….”

I was relieved when Santa Claus of the Sea started talking. Could he be a real person? “That was THE best docking job I’ve seen a student do on their 1st day all season!!” he said excitedly. (And that was saying a lot because it was the 3rd week of Sept. and the season had started in April). “Hi, I’m John Cosby,” he said, smiling. As we shook hands, I introduced myself, saying: “I only did what Phil told me to do.” “But YOU did it!!” he said exclaimed, the word “YOU” resonating in the air like a sonic boom. It must have been the voice I heard! “That was you cheering when we docked, wasn’t it?” I asked. “Oh yeah, that was definitely me!” he said, laughing heartily before heading upstairs to his office.

Over the next 2 days, I practiced tacking, jibing, man overboard and figure 8 drills, reefing the mainsail, and heaving-to, as well as rigging, de-rigging, and docking the boat. I had a different instructor each day, and while they all demonstrated an extraordinarily high level of expertise, they had distinct personalities and individualistic ways of doing things. My instructor on the 2nd day, Chris, was an intuitive, who trimmed the jib behind his back as he watched me steer. “How can you do that without looking?” “Oh, I can tell what’s happening from the sound it makes.” Incredible! My instructor on the 3rd day, Island John, barely touched things and they moved in a big way. “Let the wind do the work for you,” he said calmly, like a hypnotist.

After enduring a 100-question written test that did not include 1 single question about swearing (much to my disappointment, because I have considerable expertise in the subject) and successfully tying a few knots, I had passed my Basic Keelboat Sailing (ASA 101) course at the Annapolis Sailing School, and became a certified member of the American Sailing Association. And here I thought I was certifiably cuckoo-bird crazy only to find out I’m really just a sailor! 

It’s widely known that the Annapolis Sailing School is the oldest commercial ASA sailing school for adults in the U.S.,founded by Franklin “Jerry“ Wood back in 1959, who 11 years later, co-founded the U.S. Sailboat Show with Bennett Crane.[1] But not everybody knows the back story about the people behind the legend. Glitterchicken is hereto deliver the goods!

In 1961, Wood asked the renowned Olin Stephens[2] to design him a boat that would bring 3 drunks home safely in a storm.[3] Stephens sketched out the plans for an uncapsizable, indestructible 24’ sloop on a dinner napkin, which ultimately evolved into the blueprint for the  Rainbow boats the school uses to train its students to this day. This isn’t just nautical myth. “It’s a true story,” attests John Cosby, who currently serves as Managing Director and Head Instructor.

Cosby began working for Woods for a mere $18 dollars a day as a junior instructor when he was 15 years old. A native of nearby Severna Park, Cosby’s father had been a U.S. submarine commander who purchased a sailboat after retiring from the Navy.  Faced with the futility of arguing with his father, Cosby spent countless hours on the Magothy river as “forced crew,” wherebyhe established sailing skills that surpassed instructors twice his age. Cosby rose quickly through the ranks due to his impressive skill set and his work ethic, becoming Marina Manager when he was only 21 years old.  In those days, General Manager Rick Franke was in charge of classroom instruction at a facility in Eastport, while Cosby was responsible for on-water training operations at the school’s current Bembe Beach location.

Although Cosby stopped working at the school in 1983 to pursue career goals that eventually took him out of the boatingbusiness for a spell, his connection to the Bembe beach property deepened further when he married girl-next-door Hilary Wilson in 1985. The Wilson family owned the property immediately adjacent to the school, where they had a rustic beach cottage they used as home base for summer sailing activities. Over the years, 5out of the 7 Wilson siblings worked as sailing instructors, Which is a no-brainer when you consider the fact that kids were expected to earn their own spending money back then and the Wilsons lived so close to the school they could have sleepwalked to the docks in the morning. Although it would have added adash of spice to this story, Cosby won’t admit to sharing any romantic moments on board the Rainbows with Hilary. The way he tells it, they started dating when Hilary was attending college. (Bland, we know, but Glitterchicken faithfully upholds the journalistic duty to tell the truth, no matter how yawn-inducing it may be).

DON’T STOP READING NOW! True, we can’t give you a titillating screenplay for a Rom-Com or Coming-of-Age flick,  but what happens next has all the hallmarks of a great Drama: a series of cataclysmic events occurs, presenting our characters with obstacles that would have been insurmountable had they not joined forces, and at great risk, taken a leap of faith into the abyss, hoping that their innovative solutions would not only save the sailing school from ruin, but breathe new life into it, making it better than ever before! (This is called foreshadowing).

The 1st event that shook the Annapolis Sailing School’s foundation to its core was the death of founder Jerry Wood in 2003. His widow, Kathy, bravely carried on the business until her death in 2005, after which the estate sold the property, all the structures on it, and the entire fleet (which had grown to be quite substantial by that point, including 12 cruising boats) to Tim Dowling, who, like John Cosby, had started as a junior instructor when he was 15 years old and had worked his way up to GM.[4]

Unfortunately, Dowling’s plans to build upon Wood’s legacy and further his vision were cut short by the 2nd apocalyptic event, the Great Recession of 2008 and its painful aftermath that lingered well into 2012. Like all leisure industries, “the boating industry was practically decimated,” says Cosby.  For the thousands of Americans losing their jobs to layoffs and their homes to foreclosures, trying out a new sport wasn’t exactly at the top of their agenda along with food and shelter.  Confronted with rising costs and drastically reduced revenues, Dowling was forced to start selling off assets little by little in order to stay afloat (Pardon the pun).

Then, one fateful day in 2012, Cosby, who was staying at the 2nd incarnation of the Wilson family’s summer home next to the school, accepted receipt of a certified letter. He recalls the “visceral” reaction he had when he read the notice of Dowling’s intent to sell the Bembe Beach property to commercial marina developers. Not only would this spell death for the sailing school, but it would negatively impact the serene, woodsy residential neighborhood surrounding Bembe Beach road and turn it into a bustling thoroughfare, which would increase traffic congestion, speeding, pollution, and overall “obnoxiousness.”

The Wilsons held a brainstorming session to figure out if there was anything they could do to prevent catastrophe from happening. Enter Rick Nelson, investment management executive from NYC married to Hilary’s sister Jenny, who had also been an instructor at the sailing school back in the day. A plan was hatched for Rick and Jenny to buy the property and the business, including the fleet, which by this point had deteriorated to “maybe 18 decrepit Rainbows and 2 Beneteau cruising boats,” according to Cosby, who was to quit his job at West Marine to become Managing Director and Head Instructor. Faithfully executing their plan, the Nelsons officially became the new owners of the Annapolis Sailing School in November of 2014, beginning a new chapter in the school’s rich history.

I first met the Nelsons in 2018 at the bonfire party (complete with apple cider and s’mores) they hosted for KeelboatClub members during the Fall Sailboat Show weekend.  I felt instantly comfortable with Jenny. She struck me as an anti-princess, who wouldn’t hesitate to chip in and get her handsdirty doing whatever kind of work is necessary to fulfill a task, instead of sitting back and complaining about the “help.”[5]  I found Rick to be extremely approachable and easy to relate to because he has a bit of the dreamer in him as do I. Within minutes, we discovered we had a shared love of classic films and we were concoctinggrandiose visions of sailboat cruises for film buffs.

What Rick tells me is heartening.  He points out that the school’s “primary goal” is to encourage new sailors “to have a good time while being safe” and emphasizes that the school’s official tag line is “Seriously Fun,” distinguishing it from other sailing schools in the region that focus on competitive racing techniques. In this respect, he and Jenny are staying true to Wood’s original concept. On the other hand, Rick is cognizant of the fact that times have changed. Thus, the Nelsons have re-imagined the school to appeal to the “modern sailing family.”  Glitterchicken’s here to tell you how they did that.

First of all, the school expanded its fleet to better accommodate its children’s summer program called KidShip that was started back in the late 80s. Many of today’s parents want to engage their kids in healthy outdoor activities without the pressure and time commitment imposed by joining traveling sports teams. They’re delighted to see their kids “out there enjoying themselves out on the water, detached from their electronic devices,”[6] says Cosby, pointing out that there’s no other children’s summer sailing program in the region like KidShip. Sure, there are 2 private clubs offering children’s sailing camps, but they’re all about being “first to cross the finish line,” the antithesis of chillaxation.

Furthermore, the Nelsons have also made substantial improvements that enhance both the beauty and functionality of the beachfront property located at the tip of the peninsula on the south side of Back Creek Inlet, which boasts spectacular views of the Severn River. With the assistance of dedicated staff, they totally repainted and refurbished the main building, which is home to the administrative offices, restrooms, some of the classrooms, and the repair shed. Other enhancements include a sizeable tented event space that the school rents out to private parties for weddings and other events, and floating docks that are used not only by sailing school students but are leased out to the Blue Lotus Yoga Studio for their unique on-water yoga classes and festivities such as their Summer Solstice Bash.[7]

But my favorite improvement attributable to the Nelsons is the conversion of the former sail storage shed into a glass-walled Club House with a sliding door opening out onto a darling little deck overlooking the boating activity on Back Creek  and the “Maritime Republic of Eastport”[8] beyond. I did not believe in love at first sight until I sawthe Club House. Now, like Davy Jones of the Monkees once said: “I’m a Believer.”[9] Here’s where instructors and students hold graduation ceremonies and Keelboat Club members gather to debrief over cold beers while watching the sun set after Monday night Rainbow regattas. Still dubbed the “Sail Shed” by instructors who have been working at the school since its barebones days, the Club House is tastefully appointed with nautical-themed décor and furnishedwith tables and chairs, sofas, a full-sized bar, Keurig coffee/tea maker, mini-fridge/freezer, an enormous TV, and musical entertainment provided by Alexsa. Although not a huge space, with all these amenities you could safely say the Club House is swank. Or if you’re a Brit, you could say it’s downright posh.

It’s noteworthy that the Nelsons have also made substantial investments to expand the school’s cruising fleet,which includes 2 Beneteaus (37’), a Catalina (30’), and a Newport (30’),which are used for the ASA cruising courses and “Evening Sails,” where the general public can charter a boat with a captain for a few hours; BYO beer or wine on board and the school will provide the hors d'oeuvres. You can ask to steer or serve as crew or just lay around on deck like a diva while your fiancé showers you with rose petals.[10]

And finally, although not as well-publicized as their ASA course offerings, the Annapolis Sailing School offers private instruction (aka “PI”) for new boat owners. There are 6 captains for hire that will take you out on your own boat, give you docking practice, or help figure out some other “bugaboo that you need to get past,” Cosby says.

Although the first 2 years after the Nelsons took over were “rough” as the school struggled to rebuild its fleet and secure its footing in the post-Recession economy, Cosby is pleased to report that the school is experiencing its 3rd straight season of “fantastic” growth.  He maintains his guiding philosophy that if the school continues to focus its efforts on “being successful with our students, the financial stuff will follow.” A humble man by nature, Cosby credits his instructors and staff as “the key to the school’s success.” Although I agree wholeheartedly with this statement, I would add that Cosby deserves a good portion of the credit for the level of excellence demonstrated by his employees.  He makes 100% of the hiring decisions and when asked what’s the most important quality he looks for in an instructor, he replies that while sailing skills are an important factor, they’ve got to be “people persons” first and foremost. Cosby explains: “I’d much rather take a really great teacher and teach him or her to sail instead of taking a great sailor and teaching him or her how to teach.”  

From a student’s perspective, the value placed on extraordinary teaching ability at the Annapolis Sailing School is readily apparent. Although they differ significantly in age, experience, personality, and technique, all the instructors I’ve encountered have one thing in common. No matter how dense you are, and how long it might take for your muscle memory to “get it,” they don’t treat you like an idiot or a screw-up, which would only demoralize you, thereby thwarting the school’s goal of getting you to enjoy sailing. Nor do they dwell on what you’re doing wrong, prompting you to ruminate on past mistakes, which would only cause you to make more mistakes.

On the contrary, Cosby’s sailing instructors highlight the things you’re doing right, which puts those things at the forefront of your conscious mind, where you’re more likely to repeat them. By employing this coaching method, they keep you focused on the present, where you always need to be whether you’re on the water or on land. In this way, the art of sailingbecomes a metaphor for life and if you bring a positive attitude into the boat, you just might acquire some wisdom and mental fortitude along with some cool knot-tying skills you can bust out at cocktail parties. I can honestly say that the greatest gift I’ve received from Annapolis Sailing School instructors is that they have helped me to believe in the concept of limitless possibilities, which used to sound like a cliché phrase, but now feels like an unwritten natural law I had always known but had somehow forgotten along the way.

In my estimation, the secret to the school’s success is that Cosby embodies the qualities and demonstrates the behaviors that he wants his instructors to emulate, which is the very definition of leadership. Cosby serves as the central role model for the hands-on, practical coaching method described above that is referred to as the “Annapolis Way” developed by Jerry Wood and his protégés, with the intention of luring random people in off the street and engendering in them a lifetime love of sailing. Sounds ambitious, right? Yeah, well Cosby makes it look effortless. He gleefully chuckles, bellows encouraging words, and beams with pride when he witnesses his students’ accomplishments the same way a father glows with excitement when his child takes his first steps or rides her bike without training wheels.[11] That’s why my nickname for Cosby is  “Happy Pappy.” And the analogy is fitting. No matter the birthdate on our I.D. cards, all newbie sailors are babies and the powerful effect of these paternal reactions cannot be underestimated; they inspire in us an immediate sense of confidence and trust in our own capabilities. This means the world to a klutzy, uncoordinated girl like me and was always one of the last kids picked to be on anybody’s team in gym class and still walks into furniture stone-cold sober.

Another important factor contributing to the school’s success under its new management is that Cosby doesn’t take for granted the valuable contributions made by his remarkably capable staff members including the Nelsons’ amiable son Ricky, artistic Brenda Reed, and liveaboard cruiser Kara Finneren, who do all the behind-the-scenes work required to keep the place running. On top of that, I can attest to the fact that the staff are perennially welcoming and accepting of students and Keelboat Club members from diverse backgrounds and lifestyles and do their very best to answer our questions and accommodate our requests. They’re the kind of folks who give you faith in the human race.

Despite his deep appreciation for his faculty and staff, Cosby says that the school’s greatest challenge (besides the weather, which nobody can control) is finding and retaining employees that measure up to the school’s high standards of quality. Sailing instruction is a part-time seasonal occupation, and while the staff positions may have more full-time potential, they can hardly be described as lucrative either. It’s hard to pay the bills for people with mortgages, kids, and car payments, so these jobs appeal mainly to college students and retirees, making turnover a constant headache.

Nevertheless, due to the school’s highly regarded reputation and its proximity to the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area, Cosby still manages to attract stellar new talent, such as Dan Nichols, a former State Dept. employee who currently consults for non-profits. Nichols learned to sail on Lake Erie (Pt. Abino, Ontario) before honing his skills on the competitive racing circuit in Newport and Nantucket. This season, along with sailing instruction, Nichols began officiating Monday night Rainbow regattas for Keelboat Club members along with Jack-of-all-Trades Andrew Moe (you name it, he can fix it) and Buddha-of-the-Bay Art Holt (nothing short of nuclear war could harsh this dude's mellow) who have lent their own personal touches to overseeing the Rainbow regattas, maintaining the school's fleet, and caring for its students.

Nichols “agrees completely” with Cosby when he says that “it’s the people behind the school.” (He’s praised Moe, Holt, and other instructors and staff in previous conversations). But I can’t help thinking that Nichols is one of those edifying people who’s already making the school a better place. Not only does he add a touch of class to Cap’n Cosby’s crew, but he’s a devoted father who’s most likely drawing from a similar paternal emotional well when he says: “It’s such a joy to meet new students who are anxious to fulfill their dream.” When asked what he likes best about this gig, Nichols says: “Teaching here side by side with top instructors and seeing the smiling faces of our new sailors is very rewarding. And the sea is the most beautiful classroom in the world.” I couldn’t agree with him more as I sit on the deck in front of the Club House with a cup of tea in one hand and a book about nautical lore in the other. Looking up, I see a sleek cruising yacht unfurl its sails as it heads farther out into the channel towards the Bay Bridge, the horizon appears infinite, and it feels good to be alive.


[1] The first all-sailboat, in-water show of its kind, the U.S. Sailboat show was wildly popular from its inception and by now it’s become one of the largest, most prestigious sailboat shows in the world, making a significant positive impact on the local economy. Boat show owner Paul Jacobs estimates they’ve paid the City of Annapolis $20 million over the past 46 years just to lease the dock space, and that’s not counting what the restaurants, bars, hotels, and retailers rake in from the party scene naturally generated twice a year when hordes of sailing enthusiasts from all over the globe descend upon the colonial capital. See https://www.capitalgazette.com/business/ph-ac-cn-sailboat-attendance-0504-20170503-story.html.If you want to join the party, go to Pusser’s Caribbean Grille for the “breakdown” at the end of the show where everyone gathers drinking Painkillers as they watch the boats gracefully glide down Ego Alley and pivot into the harbor like runway models. For a Painkiller recipe and more info about the tropical cocktail’s link to Chesapeake Bay culture, see https://chesapeakebaymagazine.com/chesapeake-cocktail-the-painkiller/

[2]Stephens was famous for designing the best competitive sailing yachts in the world as well as amphibious vessels used by the U.S. Navy during WWII, which earned him commissions to design boats for guys with beaucoup bucks and names like Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, and Disney. See https://sparkmanstephens.com/our-story/history/.

[3]The precise number of drunks is in dispute. John Cosby says it was 3, an anonymous source says it was 6, and this article says it was 4. https://www.soundingsonline.com/news/a-half-century-of-lessons-on-the-pleasure-of-sailing

[4] For some good Dowling quotes on the subject of the school’s mission to make sailing fun, thereby turning people on to sailing as a lifestyle, not just a competitive sport, see  https://www.soundingsonline.com/news/a-half-century-of-lessons-on-the-pleasure-of-sailing 

[5]Case in point: for this year’s annual July 4th party (which was a really big deal because it was also the school’s 60th anniversary celebration), Jenny chopped by hand what appeared to be 30 pounds of fruit salad. It was delicious, btw.

[6] Children from the ages of 5 to 15 are grouped with peers according to skill level. The 11’10’’ RS Zest training dinghies are the newest and smallest boats in the Kidship fleet. There are also 16-ft catamarans for intermediate students who want to hone their skills and 12’ Lasers for competitive racing for students at the advanced level aged 13-15.

[7] I attended the BLYS Summer Solstice Bash this year, which was held on a radiantly gorgeousJune 21.st For an admission fee of $35 for BLYS members and $45 for non-members, you got your choice of beer, wine, or non-alcoholic beverages, scrumptious food by Grump’s catering, and live music by Guava Jelly. You could shop at the local vendor tents or sign up for paddle-boarding classes taught by Capital SUP instructors as wells as yoga classes taught by BLYS instructors. The event closed out with a blissful sunset meditation and everyone was sent home with a goodie bag. What’s not to like?

[8]Nickname applied to the laid-back waterman’s neighborhood of Eastport by spirited residents who formed a tongue-in-cheek secessionist movement when the bridge connecting them to downtown Annapolis was closed for repair back in 1998.

[9] Not to be confused with Davy Jones, Captain of the ghost ship Flying Dutchman. I don’t want anything to do with that octopus-faced dude and his infernal locker.

[10]Someone told me this rose petal proposal actually happened on board one of the Beneteaus. Whether it's a true tale or a romantic fantasy or reality is irrelevant; you could totally do it!

[11] Case in point: as I was interviewing Cosby for this piece, he briefly excused himself to "hand out high-fives” to newbie sailing students who had just docked a Rainbow for the 1st time.



North Carolina Baseball Museum

Photograph by Keith Barnes

Although it does not have its own Major League team, North Carolina has a rich baseball legacy and its own Field of Dreams – Fleming Stadium in Wilson. With a 3,000 seat capacity, it hosted several Minor League Baseball teams over the decades[1], and is currently home to the Wilson Tobs, a wood-bat collegiate summer league team in the Coastal Plain League.[2] What some visitors might not know is that just inside the stadium gates, along the left field foul line is the North Carolina Baseball Museum, where you’ll find a treasure trove of artifacts and memorabilia that will melt the hearts of baseball fans young and old.

Open Thursdays through Sundays, the museum is staffed entirely by volunteers.[3] I can’t express how fortunate I was to have Eddie Boykin greet me at the entrance. The admission fee is a nominal $3.00 for people 18-65 years old but when I told him I was a lifelong baseball fan, he let me in for the kid’s fee of $1.00 with some smooth line about how I couldn’t be more than a few days over 18 anyway. I felt kinda guilty stepping into a sacred baseball site for only a buck, but I couldn’t argue with a solid guy like this.

Then, much to my surprise and delight, Eddie took me on a personal tour of the museum. The first room is devoted to Major League Players who originally hailed from North Carolina. Lining the walls are seven personal showcases for each player inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame– Luke Appling, Enos “Country” Slaughter, Rick Ferrell, Jim “Catfish” Hunter, Gaylord Perry, Hoyt Wilheim, and Buck Leonard. Mr. Boykin pointed out that Leonard was known as “the Black Lou Gehrig.” He played for both the Negro and Mexican Leagues and was offered a Major League contract in 1952 but turned it down because he thought at the age of 45, he was too old, and was likely to injure and/or embarrass himself, thereby hurting the cause of integration.[4]

The cases in the center of the room display mementos such as autographed baseballs, news articles, photographs, and vintage trading cards honoring a collective cadre of over 400 North Carolina native sons who spent some time in the Major Leagues – from current notables such as 5-time All-Star and 2010 ALCS MVP Josh Hamilton and 2014 World Series MVP Madison Bumgarner to old-timers like Archibald “Moonlight” Graham, who made only one appearance on a Major League playing field in 1905 and would have faded into oblivion had he not emerged into the American consciousness in the 1989 film Field of Dreams.[5] “Oh yes, Moonlight Graham was a real guy,” Mr. Boykin told me as if he’d known him all his life, “and he really was a medical doctor and his wife’s favorite color really was blue, just like in the movie.” And I, always the eternal skeptic, ate it all up like Winnie-the-Pooh eats honey. This guy could have told me they played baseball on Mars and I would have believed him.

The second room features a conglomeration of local baseball history that should be commended for recognizing the accomplishments of high school and collegiate athletes as well as the pros. What stands out immediately about this room is its remarkable tactile component – you’re invited to hold a hand-carved wooden bat [6]and collared woolen uniform from the 1800s and sit down in a row of wooden seats removed from Fleming Stadium during renovations. Mr. Boykin pointed out the section on women in baseball as well as the showcases of celebrated athletes who had played at Fleming Field, such as Rod Carew (who used to play in the Carolina League), Johnny Bench,Trot Nixon, and 2011 AL MVP and Cy Young winner Justin Verlander (who used to play for the Wilson Tobs).

Of course, there’s a display commemorating a particularly exciting day at Fleming Stadium in 1956 when an MLB exhibition game was held between the Boston Red Sox and the Philadelphia Phillies. Who wouldn’t want to see Hall of Famers Ted Williams, Richie Ashburn, and Robin Roberts hanging out on your hometown field? People still talk about how the neighborhood kids lined up early to watch Ted Williams take batting practice.[7] As a Pennsylvania native and Native American cultural history enthusiast, I was thrilled when Mr. Boykin told me that Jim Thorpe[8] had played at Fleming Stadium and directed me to the corner where his memorabilia was displayed. Touching his uniform gave me goosebumps.

As I was about to leave the museum, Mr. Boykin gave me a bracelet made by a local resident strung from red and blue beads with white baseballs intermingled throughout. I offered to pay for it, but again, he wouldn’t let me. He encouraged me to stay for the Tobs game and check out the BBQ cook-off fundraiser beforehand, which I was tempted to do, and probably would have done had not the clouds darkened the sky overhead, threatening the imminence of thunderstorms.

Yes, it would have been wonderful to watch the Wilson Tobs play wearing my red-white-and-blue baseball bracelet at Fleming Stadium, where families from Wilson and neighboring communities go to spend summer evenings together enjoying America’s Favorite Pastime.  And there couldn’t be a more perfect setting for the North Carolina Baseball Museum collection. An architectural marvel with landscaped terraces, grand entryway, and polished marble floors wouldn’t do it justice.  Each ballpark is believed to have a soul that’s an amalgamation of the souls of all the players and fans that have co-mingled over the years like drops of water in an ocean. The strength of that soul is dependent upon fan support.[9] Fleming Stadium is where the soul of North Carolina baseball resides and that soul infuses this precious museum collection, which was amassed in large part by local citizens.[10] You can find their names engraved on the brick “Walk of Fame” leading up to the museum entrance. Wiping a tear out of the corner of my eye, I offered them my sincere gratitude and jumped into my car just before the sky opened up and poured buckets of rain down upon Wilson. A few hours later, the sun pushed back the clouds and a rainbow appeared just in time for the Tobs game to start.


[1] During its Carolina League days, Fleming Stadium was home to the Minnesota Twins/Washington Senators for 10 years and the Baltimore Orioles, Pittsburgh Pirates, and Philadelphia Phillies for 1 year, respectively.

[2] The name Tobs is short for Tobaconnists, which makes sense considering that Wilson’s economy revolved around the tobacco industry for decades and is currently in the process of reinventing itself. For a schedule of Wilson Tobs games, see https://www.wilsontobs.com/sports/bsb/2017-18/schedule. For more about the history of Fleming Stadium, see  https://www.wilsontobs.com/fleming-stadium/History

[3] For more details on hours of operation and directions to the North Carolina Baseball Museum, see http://ncbaseballmuseum.com

[4] Buck Leonard was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1972. Sporting News ranked him No. 47 out of the 100 best baseball players.

[5] The character of “Moonlight Graham” was Burt Lancaster’s final role and was largely based on real life ball player turned physician Archibald Graham, save for a few minor details changed for artistic reasons. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Field_of_Dreams

[6] In the earliest days of baseball, they used sticks to hit the ball. Eventually, players started whittling their own bats. There was no restriction on size, shape, or what kind of wood you could use until 1859, when the first regulations were put in place. For more information, see Bernie Mussill's delightful piece on the evolution of the baseball bat at Steve Orinick's umpire resource site. http://www.stevetheump.com/Bat_History.htm

[7]  Well, wouldn’t you? He played Major League ball from 139 until 1960, with interruptions only for service time in WWII and the Korean War. He finished his playing career with a .344 batting average, 521 home runs, and a .482 on-base percentage, the highest of all time. That’s some badass dude!

[8] Where didn’t Jim Thorpe play? And was there a sport at which he didn’t excel? If you don’t know who Thorpe was, look him up. Seriously. Arguably the most superhumanly talented athlete ever to walk the earth. https://www.biography.com/people/jim-thorpe-9507017

[9]Scott Hunsicker, GM of the Fightin’ Phils, a Minor League team from Reading, PA, expressed this ethos perfectly when he said this of FirstEnergy Field, aka America’s Classic Ballpark: “There is a soul to this ballpark, a soul built on hosting three generations, all sharing great times, in the same great place. This stadium is an important part of the history of Minor League Baseball, an authentic piece of Americana, and we are blessed that fans from near and far make a pilgrimage here to FirstEnergy Stadium each summer to experience it, and to share it with their kids.”

[10] For more about the “cherished tradition” of baseball in Wilson and the individuals who founded the North Carolina Baseball Museum, see travel writer Lynn Seldon’s article at:  http://lynnseldon.com/article705.html