Opinion
The Rotary Club of Martha’s Vineyard is completing its 24th year of service to Vineyard communities and residents. This has been an extremely busy and positive year for the Rotary Club. Beginning in June, new officers were selected at the annual induction ceremony held at Martha’s Vineyard Sailing Camp. The officers are Rolfe Wenner, president; Dan Larkosh, president elect; Paul Watts, vice president; Adam Wilson, treasurer; Christine Baker, secretary; Mark Luce, sergeant at arms.
Last summer, my mother came across this photograph of the painter and longtime seasonal Vineyard resident Thomas Hart Benton while rummaging in her house on Menemsha Pond. It was taken in the summer of 1960 by my father, Wally Scheuer (who died in 2004), on his motorboat, either on Menemsha Pond or the Vineyard Sound.
My parents and paternal grandparents were friends and neighbors of the Bentons, with adjoining properties straddling the then-Chilmark-Gay Head town line just east of Herring Creek.
The following letter is addressed to President Obama:
The other day, watching some replays of the march on Washington in 1963, I was telling my eldest daughter about how, when the bus I was on left Boston, I waved to my husband and my three little children then three, four and six, and I was not necessarily sure that I would ever see them again. After the fact we know the march was peaceful; before the fact we did not know what might happen. My daughter asked me point blank: “Mom, why did you go?” I answered spontaneously: “Moral indignation.”
Our Pennywise Path Run/Walk to the New Library was a big success. We raised money for the library, but also raised awareness of the Edgartown Public Library’s many contributions to the life of the town. The Edgartown police, the Martha’s Vineyard Land Bank, the Edgartown School as well as the Edgartown selectmen and trustees of the Library all worked with us to ensure a happy and safe run.
True story. It’s early on a Saturday
morning in late August on Main street in Vineyard Haven. The sun is shining down on at least a dozen adults and children taking coffee and munchies back to their boats. They are heading toward Owen Park. The first squawk sounds low and short. Then it starts up and raises its pitch. More like a keen than a commentary. Squawk. Squaaawk. Squaaawkkkk!
Where is it coming from? Up in the trees? On someone’s roof? Concern riffles through the group. An animal is in trouble! A turkey is stuck somewhere!
I pick what’s left
off a wave’s last edge:
blue wood bullet,
two white eyes
and brass rings.
Hooks gone.
Pop, it’s one
you could have used
and lost
like we lost you.
Something in deep
grabbed hold
would not let go —
then the line snapped
and you were gone.
— Warren Woessner