Annapolis Stories:Looking back, to move forward

Annapolis Stories tell the living history of the Annapolis area through the lens of individual experiences.

Since I believe in looking back as a way of moving forward, I thought this might be a good time for the readers of The Capital to share some of the journey with me. So many people ask me where I find my subjects and topics. I like to say that in Annapolis, you can find a story on every street corner.

For my first column, I chose to talk to Anna Greenberg. I knew from personal experience what a dynamic person she was and could shed some light on "who's who" in Annapolis. When we sat down together, she told me there had been "hundreds of articles" written on her and there really wasn't anything new to say.

But as she began telling me about her childhood in Annapolis, I knew there was a story that hadn't yet been told. Her tales about Annapolis in the 1930s and 1940s as the daughter of the owner of the "colored-only" Star Theatre were riveting, as were her experiences growing up Jewish in a small town.

Anna told me that many people approached her after the story was written and told her how much they enjoyed her tale. "In all those years, no one had ever written anything like that," she said.

My next story was on Theresa Blackwell and the "Prettiest Dress." Theresa was a student in the memoir class I teach at the Annapolis Senior Center. One day she came in with a photograph of herself as part of the Weldon Irvine Singers. I asked about the beautiful dress she was wearing, and that led to a fascinating story of segregated Annapolis in the last century and the devastating loss of an entire community.

When I interviewed Theresa, she mentioned that she was married in 1954. But after the story ran, her daughter pulled me aside and told me that I must have heard wrong. Her parents, both active in the ministry, were married in 1952 and her older sister was born a year later in 1953. I asked if she wanted a correction. "Well, it is awkward," she laughed.

The next story on Elizabeth Melvin and Melvin Road evoked memories of an idyllic childhood lived on the shores of Aberdeen Creek. It was a potent reminder that not very long ago, the outskirts of Annapolis were still a place of forests, farms and clear, blue waters.

One of Elizabeth's neighbors e-mailed me after the story ran. She told me how each Halloween the children in the neighborhood would go trick or treating at the 12 houses that made up Melvin Road. "I grew up believing you only got a dozen or so treats on Halloween. Imagine my shock when I found out what my friends (in other neighborhoods) amassed." Betty Huckenpoehler was a delight to interview. She lived an exciting life as a theatrical dancer that took her all over the world before settling in Annapolis with her Naval officer sweetheart. A visit to her dance studio on Fairfax Road was like a trip to the golden age of Hollywood with photos of Fred Astaire, Roy Rogers and Hedy Lamarr lining the walls. Just as much fun was watching this veteran of stage and screen put Annapolis' sons and daughters through their paces at Cotillion.

In the story, "Keeping Annapolis on Its Toes," I wrote that when Betty was introduced to her future husband, her first comment was "Huckenpoehler? You've got to be kidding."

That sparked a recollection from reader Paul Stillwell, who had interviewed her husband for a book on the history of the USS Arizona. He shared with me Commander Bill Huckenpoehler's story of the equator-crossing initiation ceremony on the ship, in which new men were brought up on phony charges. The summons against then-Seaman 2nd Class Huckenpoehler read "In that you did consolidate all your relative's names, causing much confusion."

My story on James Earlie Walker, a veteran of Guadalcanal and cook at the U.S. Naval Academy, led to a greater understanding of the challenges that faced World War II veterans of color. As I spoke to his neighbors and co-workers, I began to learn more about not only about the integrity and character of Mr. Walker, but the rich history of the Parole neighborhood and the families that lived there.

I sat down with Robert Campbell, the well-known auctioneer who had been involved in Annapolis politics for many years, to ask if he could steer me to an Annapolis Christmas story. I had no idea I was speaking to Annapolis' official Santa himself.

Not only did Mr. Campbell share amusing tales of his stint as Santa, he also elucidated on many aspects of Annapolis history in the past century. When I left his interview, I had enough Annapolis stories to fill several columns!

In the story "The Big Freeze," about Art Tuers and the frigid winter of 1977, the mention of the Volkswagen Bug that was driven on the ice on the rivers around Annapolis prompted a response from Crystal Colleran Myers, who said the mystery man in the Bug was her father. "I remember because he would drive me around out there all the time that winter."

She wanted to know if anyone had any pictures of the Bug on the ice. I couldn't find any - if anyone does, let me know and I'll get back to Crystal.

My neighbors, Jerome and Janet Rapkin, were the subject of a Valentine's Day story about a Naval officer and his wife.

I was struck by how important Janet's role was in supporting the wives and families of the men serving under her husband. It illustrated what a special partnership they had, and that serving in the military is indeed a family affair.

For President's Day, I wanted to explore the very different experiences of Washington and Lincoln in Annapolis.

Part of the article dealt with a story that Washington danced with Sally Ridout at the Ridout mansion on Greenberry (sic) Point while Benjamin Franklin played musical glasses.

I received a call from reader Fred Proctor after the story ran to let me know that Benjamin Franklin actually invented the glasses he played, and that a set of them had existed in the collection of an Annapolis family until very recently.

Annapolitans are passionate about their history, especially those from days long past. But our town has changed so much in the last 50 years that knowing about the recent past is just as important.

Many folks had no idea who Susan C. Campbell was, even though one of our most famous parks is named after her. I found the story of City Dock's metamorphosis from a working harbor to a recreational attraction fascinating, and was glad to introduce Susan to our readers.

I hope you have enjoyed reading Annapolis Stories. It is through our stories that we learn who we are, where we have been, and where we going. There are many more stories to tell and I look forward to sharing them all with you.

Annapolis Stories tell the living history of the Annapolis area through the lens of individual experiences. Janice Gary is an award-winning writer of creative nonfiction. She teaches memoir at Annapolis Senior Center.