This is the last in a six-part, yearlong series called Disappearing Virginia in Distinction magazine. This story originally appeared in the December issue as “The Vanishing Melody of Swamp Music.” WET NOSES poke excitedly through the steel bars. The hounds are … Continue reading →
Great things have been accomplished in pursuit of drink. The Pilgrims made an early exit from the Mayflower because their beer was running low. New England may be the most prominent example of landmarks that exist because of the need … Continue reading →
Teddy Roosevelt slept here. Or might have were he not the home-schooled, mountain-climbing, really-big-game-hunting, rough-riding-war-hero and boxer of a man he turned out to be. “Sleep when you die,” you can almost hear him bellowing. “I’m pressing on.” Despite that … Continue reading →
It’s a stretch to imagine that this country village was once animated with knights, maidens, minstrels and jesters. The music of penny whistles and steinfulls of ale made day and night merry. Now, fifteen years later, a ghost town is … Continue reading →
St. Mary’s College and Chapel had a good run but, in the end, never had a prayer. The imposing structures were too big to survive disuse, the old grounds too perfect a milieu for mischief. Now all that’s left are … Continue reading →
Most folks figure that the Poe Toaster is stone, stone dead. It’s getting on three years now he’s been a no-show for the macabre middle-of-the-night tributes to Baltimore’s most famous decedent. If the idea toasting tortured authors is your thing, … Continue reading →
There’s nothing like those tried-and-true remedies when life throws an ailment your way: plenty of rest; chicken noodle soup; a tonic of meat juice in your rear end. Okay, maybe those first two have survived the ages, but that last … Continue reading →
You’d not think to look for traces of John Wilkes Booth in Portsmouth, Virginia. Sure, the city has witnessed its share of extraordinary episodes, but the bustling port town is a long way from Washington D.C. and the quiet, rural … Continue reading →
It’s not too often that a bona fide celebrity comes to town, and even rarer that one shows up to kill himself. In 1894, however, Robert Frost—yes, that Robert Frost, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet laureate who penned “The Road Not … Continue reading →
The treasure buried by Charles Wilson would be worth ten million dollars today–ten chests filled with precious gems, silver and gold bullion that have never been found, despite that Wilson wrote explicit directions to the stashed riches. As alluring as … Continue reading →
The way Benson Lossing tells it, the Abingdon willow really got around. Well, the fruit of her loins did anyway. The remarkable tale of the promiscuous weeping willow of Abingdon Plantation isn’t as much the story of lost structures as … Continue reading →
