The Cornfield’s Past Lives
- Details
- Written by Kris Legates
A parked truck is just the latest witness to our region’s endless development
By Bill Newcott
Illustration by Rob Waters
From the April 2024 issue
The source of the melancholy that sweeps over me as I make the turn off Cedar Grove Road onto Mulberry Knoll, near Lewes, is at once obvious and elusive.
At the southwest corner spreads a cornfield — at least, as of this writing. It is midsummer: a time of growth, green and hopeful, the stalks topping out just at eye level. Far, far in the distance, a stand of trees marks the field’s western boundary; a here-and-no-further wall that has, perhaps for a century or so, defined the demarcation between agriculture and nature’s last stand.
And there, parked diagonally near the intersection, is an old Chevy panel truck, lovingly maintained yet defiantly utilitarian. “247 Single Family Lots For Sale,” a sign on the truck proclaims.
At Ease
- Details
- Written by Kris Legates
For the men stationed at Fort Miles during World War II, recreation activities were abundant
By Michael Morgan
Photograph by Delaware Public Archive
From the April 2024 issue
“Just one year ago,” Delaware Coast News columnist Virginia Cullen wrote in May 1942, “the silent, saffron slopes of Cape Henlopen were known only to the wind and the tides; to a few straggling fishermen casting in the thundering surf. Where leisurely picnickers basked under the soporific sun. Where berry pickers for the sleepy little town of Lewes gathered wild plums and cranberries in the spring.” But since then, with World War II underway in Europe and the clouds of that conflict drifting across the Atlantic, construction crews had invaded the peaceful sands of Cape Henlopen to begin work on Fort Miles, which would become one of the most modern military installations on the East Coast. Eventually, massive concrete gun emplacements, bunkers and the ubiquitous spotting towers were built on the sands of the cape.
Sprinkled among these instruments of war, however, were tennis courts, a baseball diamond and other recreational facilities for the more than 2,000 men garrisoned at the fort.
Shall We Dance?
- Details
- Written by Kris Legates
A lifelong dance floor shuffler tries to step up his ballroom game
By Bill Newcott
Photograph by Carolyn Watson
From the Winter 2023 issue
‘We’re gonna go for a stroll on the boardwalk,” says Thom Pemberton, which is a tad confusing as this is a dance class in the basement of the Cape Henlopen Senior Center and we’re a good quarter-mile from the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk.
I squint at him quizzically, and I catch on Pemberton’s face the fleeting realization that he might be dealing with an idiot. He gestures elegantly to the linoleum floor.
“This is our boardwalk, right here,” he reassures me. “And I want us to just, you know, walk in a big circle here as if we were walking along the boardwalk.”
My wife, Carolyn, smiles sweetly.
“He knew that,” she lies.
We link arms and stroll in a wide circle to the sound of Sammy Davis Jr.’s not-at-all annoying “Candy Man,” slowing occasionally to avoid colliding with the four or five other couples here for Pemberton’s regular Thursday morning beginners class. My mind knows those pairs have barely more dance experience than I have; my sinking heart realizes that, compared to me, they are the reincarnation of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.