Opinion
BEST BOOKSELLER
Editors, Vineyard Gazette:
Independent book stores — while beloved by loyal fans — find it difficult to survive under the best of circumstances, no less the tragic fire that gutted Bunch of Grapes. They were one of the first stores to buy the book America according to Connor Gifford, which I co-authored with an amazing young man from Nantucket who has Down Syndrome.
Buried Treasure
From the Vineyard Gazette editions of August, 1983:
West Tisbury salvager and treasure hunter Barry Clifford says he’s found proof, at least to his own satisfaction, that he’s discovered the pirate ship Whidah, sunk with its vast treasure off the coast of Cape Cod in 1717.
The trowel bent in my hand; I was afraid it might. There was one last year that did the same thing. Thinking it a piece of junk, I pitched it aside. The trowel I used for years is lost somewhere in this garden, probably green bushes grew large over it or the ivy buried it. It was strong, like a little spade. There is a penknife of Ted’s around here someplace too, and a silver fork I was using to separate the tiniest seedlings. (Things do turn up, though, Just found clippers lost months ago, hanging on a trellis). Why don’t the useless things get lost?
Even though the heavens opened up and poured soaking rain, complete with thunder and lightning, hospice angels were plentiful on a recent Monday night at Farm Neck. I would like to say thank you to every guest, volunteer and to all the businesses and artists that made the evening such a wonderful success. It truly takes a community to give the excellent care of hospice, and those who were with us under the tent know the very special connection to our work we all made that stormy night.
It’s inevitably hot and hectic, dusty and bit tersweet — these four days of waning summer on the Vineyard during the agricultural fair held in West Tisbury.
Too Quiet Downtown
Walking down Main street Vineyard Haven, you can still smell the smoke. It’s in a single spot directly in front of the Bunch of Grapes bookstore and before the site of Cafe Moxie, just a whiff of the charred smell that lingers long after a fire. It is an olfactory trigger that brings memories of Independence Day, when the restaurant burned to the ground and the bookstore was ruined nearly beyond recognition.