Not only did I speak out and generate a petition against it—and lost business in the process—but I worked with others to create yet another event to keep that town green and its stage as a vibrant centerpiece for town activities. Market Days, combined with the Bluemont concert series, was officially sponsored by a local Realtor, run by the Ladies Auxiliary of the Volunteer Fire Department, with all proceeds from the booth rentals going to support the fire department. It was a win-win-win for the Realtor, the fire department and the community.
Hurricane Isabel, which caused sufficient damage to scare off the developer, may have had more to do with saving the green than anything we did, but that event, which lasted a number of years, combined with the long-running Potomac River Festival, the annual Rod Run to the Beach, the newly created Bike Fest and other activities, have preserved the green—for now, anyway—from those who would replace it with privately owned waterfront condos and forever change the landscape along our prime, public waterfront.
There are so many more stories I could share from my past in Colonial Beach. There was the night my old gang went to see a Frankenstein movie at the Mayfair. The girls found it hysterically funny, which deeply offended the guys, so deeply, in fact, that one of them built a life-size replica of Frankenstein (“Frankie’s” hair was made from my friend’s grandmother’s old fur piece) and planted him at my front door one very dark night. After that impressive introduction, Frankie accompanied us on many a prank during those teen years. His head lived in the back of a closet until just a few years back and even became part of my bookstore’s Goosebumps float in the Potomac River Festival parade one year. After that I returned him to his creator to share with his grandkids.
And there was the very steamy summer night when we decided it would be a fine idea to buy crushed ice from the ice plant in town and have a snowball fight in the backyard to cool off. It was a very bad idea, by the way. It’s a wonder we didn’t end up with concussions. Those “snowballs” hurt like crazy, but we did cool down a bit.
I will forever treasure the memories of those days when we arrived at the beach on a Friday night, and other friends arrived just minutes later on bicycles, dogs tagging along. I can still hear the music of Johnny Cash or the Everly Brothers blasting in the dining room as we played cards, made pizza or, on one regrettable occasion, taffy. There were highly competitive badminton games in the yard. I recall Fourth of July picnics on the beach just down the hill—hot dogs, hamburgers and my mom’s potato salad in its orange Fiesta dinnerware bowl—with our carefully chosen fireworks being shot out over the water.
But mostly I remember the sense of family and community and friendship. I hope I’ve captured just some of that in these pages and in all the books I write. That’s where those moments will live on.
Clarence Stanford’s sister Catherine
PHOTO CREDITS
Front cover: courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall.
Back cover: Full image: courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall; A-B: courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall; C: used by permission by the Wilkerson family.
Front flap: used with permission by Pete and Sugie Green.
p. v: image © iStock.
p. xii: image © iStock.
pp. xiv-xxv: all images courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall.
p. xvi: image used with permission by Sherryl Woods.
p. xxvi: image used with permission by Sherryl Woods.
p. 2: all images courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall.
p. 3: image © iStock.
pp. 4-7: all images courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall.
p. 8: image used with permission by Sherryl Woods.
p. 9: all images courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall and/or Ellie Caruthers.
p. 11: image courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall.
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p. 20: image used with permission by Mildred Grigsby.
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pp. 26-31: all images courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall.
pp. 32-39: all images used with permission by Carlton Hudson, Pat Fitzgerald and from the personal archives of the Rescue Squad and the Fire Department.
p. 40: image used with permission by Burkett Lyburn.
pp. 41-42: all images courtesy of Jessie Hall’s collection, reproduced with permission by Jessie Hall.
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p. 45: image used with permission by Michael Mayo.
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p. 52: image used with permission by the Curley family.
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