Agent 86 reported to management recently that he had flown to Maine to escape the heat and humidity on the Eastern Shore (and perhaps as an escape from the high-pressure work environment at the Spy). 86 chose Rockland as his venue because he knew that Chris Brownawell, a former director of the Academy Art Museum, had gone there in 2010 as CEO of the Farnsworth Art Museum and remains there today, 15 years later.

86 thought that if Rockland had set well with Brownawell, perhaps he also would find the area appealing.  In any event, 86 wanted to view the extensive Wyeth collection at the Farnsworth.  86′ video surveillance follows. Prominent in the video is the Maine Lobster Festival. 86 made very clear that he wouldn’t return to Mid-Shore until the Festival had concluded.

This amazing Talbot Historical Society H. Robins Hollyday Collection aerial photo of Tighman Island’s Avalon Island was taken in 1931! The entire island was formed from oyster shells discarded overboard by a seafood packing company pier. The Tilghman Packing Company sign is visible on the roof of one of the packing houses.

Contact: Cathy Hill [email protected] to share your old photos and purchase our collections photos. Comment, Like our page and join the Talbot Historical Society!

The Carrot, the Egg, and the Coffee Bean is a metaphor that illustrates how people respond differently to adversity. When placed in boiling water, a symbol of life’s difficulties, the carrot becomes soft and weak, the egg becomes hard and unyielding, but the coffee bean does something remarkable: it transforms the water itself. The lesson is that while some are broken down by hardship and others become hardened, the most resilient individuals rise above the situation, using it to grow and create something better. Like the coffee bean, they change their environment rather than letting it change them.

Nothing about last week was easy. I won’t go into details but suffice it to say that our family had our share of challenges, three really big ones. After the third bit of bad news, I walked outside to take some healing breaths when suddenly a dragonfly swooped in and flew in circles around me. I knew from my studies that dragonflies undergo a significant transformation from aquatic nymphs to winged adults, making them a powerful symbol of change and new beginnings. Dragonflies are a sign of good luck, a reminder to embrace change and new beginnings. Once again, the universe is sending me messages.

We are private people. We carry our burdens quietly, wrapped in layers of strength and self-reliance. But something shifted this time. A quiet tug, an urge I couldn’t explain, told me to reach out.

So I did. Three names came to mind, clear, immediate, like a whisper I couldn’t ignore. I texted, unsure of what to say, just that we were walking through something heavy, and for once I didn’t want to walk it alone.

Each friend replied almost instantly, one was actually in the process of boarding a plane. Their responses weren’t shallow or polite, they were full of spirit, light, and grace. Support poured in, not just with words, but presence. They offered prayers, wisdom, and stillness. No fixing. Just being there.

To one of them, I said plainly, “I think we’re being tested.” He responded with a verse that fully addressed my question: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” (Proverbs 3: 5-6)

That was the moment that I realized: the reaching out might be the path. The support was already waiting. The strength wasn’t only in what we could hold ourselves, but what we were finally willing to open up and receive.

This week felt like a tidal wave, but it’s now clear that the universe is clearing space, testing our alignment, nudging us toward a re-set. The signs may look and feel like chaos, but resilience is often born in the middle of that storm. We’ll continue with our positive outlook and be like the coffee bean, we’ll grow and create something better.

Kate Emery General is a retired chef/restaurant owner who was born and raised in Casper, Wyoming. Kate loves her grandchildren, knitting, and watercolor painting. Kate and her husband, Matt are longtime residents of Cambridge’s West End where they enjoy swimming and bicycling. 

This picture of the Tri County Allstate Pony League Team at Easton, Maryland’s Federal Park c. 1955. It was donated to the Talbot Historical Society by Larry M. Wood in 2010. Many of the players were identified at that time. On the first row left to right: Ronnie Moore, Bob Ritter, Ed Morris, Ormand Birmingham, Bill Chance, John Trax, Bill Ozman, Jimmy Price, and Bill Norris. Second row left to right: Lester Gibson , Manager, Larry Wood, Eddie Prager, Wayne Lewis, John Hurt, Larry Hoffman, Irvin Gadow, Coach Mr. Charlie Caulk and an unidentified Coach.

Contact: Cathy Hill [email protected] to share your old photos and purchase our collections photos. Comment, Like our page and join the Talbot Historical Society!

Dennis Herrmann developed a life-long interest in astronomy at an early age and got his first telescope at the age of 12. Through his 43 years of teaching at Kent County High School he taught Astronomy and Earth/Space Science and coached track and field and cross country. He led and participated in numerous workshops on astronomy at the Air and Space Museum (DC), the Maryland Science Center, and the Mid-Atlantic Planetarium Society. He loves sharing and explaining the night sky to increase understanding and enjoyment of it to folks of all ages.

This past week I found myself clocking more miles on Maryland’s highways than I have in years, driving to and from Baltimore on my own. What I imagined would be a simple string of solo commutes quickly turned into an unexpected adventure, complete with confusing exits, detours through crumbling industrial zones, and more than one wrong turn into neighborhoods that made me grip the steering wheel just a little tighter.

Most of my trips “across the bridge” have been to Washington, D.C., over the past thirty-eight years. Baltimore, on the other hand, has included a handful of peaceful visits to the National Aquarium or the American Visionary Art Museum with my family. Those trips were well-planned and predictable: park, explore, head home. But this was different. This was real Baltimore. And real Baltimore is a patchwork: some parts filled with energy, grit, and culture; others, quiet, haunting, and a little depressing.

On my first day as I was returning to the Eastern Shore, my GPS led me down to the area where the Francis Scott Key Bridge used to be. I wasn’t expecting it. I didn’t even realize how close I was until I noticed the sudden lack of skyline and the silence that seemed to hang in the air. Navigating my way out from there and back onto Route 97 was one of the trickiest drives I’ve done in recent memory, not because of traffic, but because of the sheer uncertainty of it all. Twisting ramps, detour signs, an ancient tunnel, and an eerie awareness of where I was.

There’s something humbling about relying on your phone to guide you, only to find yourself completely disoriented. The intermittent, reassuring voice of the GPS doesn’t account for construction zones, collapsed infrastructure, or how a place makes you feel in your gut.

But in a strange way, I’m grateful for the experience. It reminded me that stepping out of our comfort zones, even involuntarily, shows us what we’re capable of. I navigated it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved  to see a road sign as I was when 97/Annapolis appeared in front of me. Crossing the Bay Bridge felt like a gift from heaven after such a long drive. I made it home and I got a clearer picture of a city I’d only known through museum doors and aquarium glass.

As I continue my journey to and from Baltimore next week, I might plot my route the old-fashioned way, or at least glance at the map first. But part of me knows that even the wrong turns have their own stories to tell.

My deep appreciation for the quiet comforts of the Eastern Shore persists because at the end of the day, there really is no place like home.

Kate Emery General is a retired chef/restaurant owner who was born and raised in Casper, Wyoming. Kate loves her grandchildren, knitting, and watercolor painting. Kate and her husband, Matt are longtime residents of Cambridge’s West End, where they enjoy swimming and bicycling. 

This 1930 photo was donated to the Talbot Historical Society by David Kirby Metz. Two of the three aviators are identified at the top of the picture as Kirby Metz and Buddy Taylor. The biplane was either at Easton’s first airport at the Ratcliffe Manor field or at Webb Field off of Dover Road at Black Dog Alley. Easton area’s second-largest airport, Webb Airport, was built in 1930 on Mr. Dorsey Webb’s farm. Dorsey Webb owned a crop duster and flew at various air shows. Facts: “ Airfields That Once Were” March 1, 2024 “ Shore Home & Garden Magazine”.

Contact: Cathy Hill [email protected] to share your old photos and purchase our collections photos. Comment, Like our page and join the Talbot Historical Society!

The beautiful racing Log Canoes in our area have a very large sail area in comparison to the size of their hulls! If a strong gust of wind hits sometimes a capsized log canoe is the result! These unidentified seven men are working to get the sails down and upright the Log Canoe. The photo date and photographer are not identified. The background looks like St. Michaels, Maryland on the Miles River?

Maybe you can help us with identifications? Contact: Cathy Hill [email protected] to share your old photos and purchase our collections photos. Comment, Like our page and join the Talbot Historical Society!