Reading through some of these comments, I am impressed by how tightly some folks clutch those rose-colored glasses to their eyes. It brings to mind a little saying from Mark Twain: Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.

Perhaps, if some of the people that have moved here from other places would just stop and put themselves into the shoes of the families who truly wanted a community center for our children and grandchildren, maybe, just maybe, those same people would understand just a little of how this has divided a community. Perhaps if what happened to us happened to them in the town that they were raised in and love, maybe they could have a better understanding of how we feel.

Now because of what the “powers that be” have done, the mayor, town council, and both manager and assistant manager are being watched and caught doing more dirty deals. It’s sad, really, because while we all thought our little town was being run properly by the people we have put into office and by the people that all of our tax dollars pay (and quite well I might add), what was really happening was back room deals, poor money management, and lots of lying and cheating. Now, none of the people that are “onto them” can rest because day in, day out, more dirty laundry shows up. We cannot let this little group of players continue to run our sweet little town into the ground. There are many nice people that have moved here and I know and am friends with lots of them. The difference between us is that I moved here in 1976 and have never tried to make this town into anything remotely like where I came from. I don’t want it to change and I sure as heck do not want to see an apartment building sitting in our beautiful new park.

Now for the Positive!

The NYT’s article certainly highlights the Faustian bargain the Town entered into, selling off moral integrity in order to achieve an illusion of wealth, power, and success (can’t hide from Marlowe and Goethe any more though, as the Devil always gets his due).

The Dora Sullivan quote regarding the plight of the poor, “That’s just life,” was most enlightening. Pretending to care from one side of the mouth, selling them out with the other. Perfect, just perfect. It was heartening to see that all the shifty, two-faced trickery Old School Cape Charles has had to endure when dealing with this crowd was not so much a Natural Born talent, but an art and craft borne after years of practice, hard work, and experience.

”If they want to be a part of the community, then why is there a (apartheid) gate over there?” Nursing a beer can bring clarity — this guy saw the writing on the wall way back then. Even if not all of them live behind it, the gate has achieved its aim, successfully dividing the town along distinctly philosophical, spiritual, and financial lines. “Almost half of the population of the world lives in rural regions and mostly in a state of poverty. Such inequalities in human development have been one of the primary reasons for unrest and violence.” –Abdul Kalam.

More disgustingly, it’s hard to get past the fact that the same crowd that supported and aided Bonadeo, Panek, and Sullivan in stealing the Old School from the ordinary people, will be drinking delicate wines at the new Private Beach Club, and toasting the sunset and the joys of life, while the rest of us will be forced to endure a sleazy apartment complex in our School Park.

In the most corrupt fashion, they supported a Mayor and Council willing to spend hundreds of thousands of tax dollars to give away a historic theater stage (in the Old School auditorium; it will be demolished and turned into a tacky two-bedroom apartment) that is over 100 years old, probably the oldest on the Eastern Shore (Harbor for the Arts?), yet for some odd reason, chose not to go after Sinclair Communications and the rest of Bay Creek, to at least attempt to get the money owed the ordinary people. If the Town attorney says he won’t go after them, fire him and get a pit bull that will.

Meanwhile, back in Town, far away from the Private Beach Club, full-time residents of the old section (those that actually have a stake in the new Warsaw Ghetto), hunch over and issue foul oaths at those responsible for defiling the Old School with cheap low-rent apartments, and watch suspiciously as they construct the new toilet in the park. . . .

On a more positive, upbeat note, Bruce, my brother, glad to see the Lindeman Pollyanna Express is still in service — maybe you can sell tickets. At this point I may even buy one myself.

Yes, you can poke Cape Charles with a stick every time it stumbles, but if that’s what you enjoy, then you’re not living. It’s a small town with hard working people trying to make a go of it, mixed with part-timers (myself included), and vacationers. There’s always going to be friction between all of us and room for improvement in how our town operates.

Frankly, I’m over the bashing of this town. I have no stake in the old school, the waste water treatment plant/Rt. 13 sewerage line, the bank building, and, most of all, the town council. I’m simply a historic district home owner who loves this town. No, my head is not buried in the sand. No, I’m not a Pollyanna (nod to my friend, Wayne). I understand the issues. I get it. But, enough bashing. You can call this journalism if you like. I don’t care. I call it largely editorial and one-sided.

Build up. Don’t tear down. Fix the problems. Don’t just throw stones. Be objective. Be fair. Don’t name call and toss out accusations. We’re all neighbors trying to make this town a great place to live. Yes, even the people you have issues with. Instead, get in the arena yourself and fight the fight. Don’t sit on the sideline and complain about it. If you can do better, then get yourself elected and see what you can do. I’m all for that. But, the negativity and hate is appalling and is not helping. It’s dividing. And I’m over it.