Alternative approaches to wellness and healing abound in coastal Delaware

By Pam George  |  Photograph by Carolyn Watson
From the April 2018 issue

Feature-HEAL Our Content - Delaware Beach Life - Results from #78When doctors at Johns Hopkins Hospital diagnosed Rachel Grier-Reynolds with stage 4 lung cancer, they gave her eight months to live. “They told me, do all the things I wanted to do: basically enjoy the time I had left here,” recalls the Lewes resident. So that’s exactly what she’s done — for the past 10 years.

Many physicians would agree that Grier-Reynolds, who was diagnosed in 2008, has defied the odds. But few ask her why. “I was shocked at how little interest there is from the medical profession about why I haven’t died,” she says.

While she’s undergone several rounds of chemo­therapy and radiation, she’s also used nutritional supplements, self-reiki, acupuncture and heart-focused meditation. She’s learned the mood-boosting power of a smile and the calmness that comes from picturing a passel of soft puppies.

Western medicine might not be knocking on Grier-Reynolds’ door for an explanation, but there are plenty of coastal residents who’d be interested in her story. For proof, witness the turnout to see the documentary “Heal” this past November. Screened at Lefty’s Alleys & Eats, “Heal” (now available on iTunes), examines how thoughts, beliefs and emotions affect health and the ability to overcome illness.

Camels and hippos and rhinos, oh my!

By Fay Jacobs  |  This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
From the Holiday 2017 issue

flotsam-camel Our Content - Delaware Beach Life - Results from #78As Meryl Streep said, in her epic film “Out of Africa,” “I had a ranch in Aff-rica,” But who’d think we’d find an African ranch in Florida? No less one where I could ride a camel and feed a giraffe?

This 47-acre working farm and wildlife preserve near Tampa was deep in an area called the Green Swamp. Well, the name gave me the yips, but you know how I love an adventure.

So we drove to the swamp, crossing Withlacoochee Creek, wondering what the creek would have looked like without lachoochie. And were there other kinds of choochies in the water? Banjo music appeared to emanate from a front porch straight out of “Hoarder TV.”

“Watch where you’re driving!” I yelled, as tree moss hung so far over the road we could be driving through a car wash.

It turned out that the Giraffe Ranch sign was so unobtrusive we drove right past it and had to turn around at George & Gladys’s BBQ stand. They advertised Alligator Bites. Lunch or warning? We’ll never know.

Darkness along the Delaware coast provided good cover for Prohibition-era smugglers

By Michael Morgan
From the Holiday 2017 issue

lookback-bootleggers Our Content - Delaware Beach Life - Results from #78The beach was cold, dark and deserted, and the bootleggers were pleased. Aboard the rumrunning boat that drifted a short distance from the Fenwick Island beach, men worked with military precision to ferry tins of illegal booze to shore. Within a short time, more than 200 cloth-covered containers had been stacked on the sands of coastal Delaware.

In 1919, the United States went officially “dry,” when the 18th Amendment to the Constitution was ratified to prohibit the manufacture, sale or transportation of intoxicating liquors; and throughout the Roaring ’20s, the Coast Guard played a cat-and-mouse game with bootleggers as they tried to sneak illicit booze into Delaware. The rumrunners began their voyage to the Delaware coast in Canada, where they loaded their vessels with a cargo of illegal whiskey, gin, and other alcoholic beverages. The illicit spirits were often packed in rectangular metal containers that could be easily stacked on a boat. Often the metal tins were covered with a cloth sack so that they could be handled quietly. The cloth covering also prevented the tins from reflecting light that would alert the revenue agents to the bootleggers’ presence.