They called the Center
‘Camelot.’ That golden period between its inception in 1969 through most of the
1970s when there seemed to be no cap on money available and the innovative
ideas just kept blossoming each and every day. It was the introduction of
adventurous, entertaining, and informative television over the relatively new
public broadcasting medium.
I was part of the adventure for
roughly five years before succumbing to the siren call of the North luring me
home. Back then, programming at the Maryland Center for Public Broadcasting was
fresh, innovative and a wonderful experience to produce. Hodge Podge Lodge and
Consumer Survival Kit were just some of the many new approaches to great
informational/entertaining television.
Those memories all came
tumbling back when I read about the last remaining staff member from that
period finally retiring. George Beneman was a director when I was there. He
recently retired as Senior Vice President/Chief Technology Officer. My, how the time has flown. That period of the
Seventies was followed by forty plus decades of solid production work done at
the Center.
Years after I left, I returned
to my old Maryland stumping grounds to revisit some of the old familiar haunts.
Davis’ pub in Eastport, Annapolis reminds me of what the Bohemian Flats
must have been like on the West Bank of Minneapolis back in the ‘40s.The pub
has been around since the ‘40s and their clientele hasn’t changed much since
then. There are the usual neighborhood relics, a few old watermen, the
hangers-on and now the ever-present tourists drawn by concierges and travel
blogs.
Like the watermen of old Chesapeake, Davis’ pub remains stuck in the
past. Its walls are adorned with fading photographs of tall ships, wooden
boats, log canoes and skipjacks. Across the street the intoxicating smell of
seaweed, salt air and brine mix with the fresh varnish on a yacht anchored
there.
Our first home purchased in
Reisterstown, not far from the Center, looks much the same as when we lived
there. So too with the inner harbor of Baltimore before Freddy Gray’s
shadow darkened its shoreline. New construction has finally painted a
delightful façade over the old water place.
Many of my life/career changes started around that time. From 1972
through 1977, I sold programming during the day, wrote Westerns at night and
toe-stepped the Chesapeake on weekends. Our family started there and real
estate first began to pique my curiosity. It was a most audacious start to
something great…the rest of my life.
Back then I had long harbored great fantasies of sailing the bay. A
boat ride on our friend’s runabout brought back a rush of old mental images.
The air is clearer on the water and there is a nautical language reserved for
the fleet of foot and strong of stomach. My friend spoke of new moons and dark
skies. He waxed on philosophically about the Orionids, the Leonids, North
Taurids and Geminids; all meteor showers reserved for his patch of moonlit sky.
The houses seemed to have gotten bigger and the sea lanes more crowded since our last visit. But the inlets and bays were still nature’s nurseries. The Chesapeake Bay supports more than 2700 species of plants and animals, including 348 species of finfish and 173 species of shellfish. Approximately 284,000 acres of the Chesapeake Bay are tidal wetlands.
The Bay and its tidal tributaries have 11,684 miles of shoreline, more
than the entire United States West Coast. Estuarine science and research is
relatively young. Only in the last several decades has there been a good
understanding of estuaries and fisheries.
My job selling programming was a precursor to my own business ventures
born several years later. Our home was the first of a number of real estate
investments. Two western novels were written, edited and then shelved for
almost forty years before my new career as a writer took off. It was in
Maryland where I attempted the JFK Fifty Mile Race but only got twenty-four
miles before hypothermia brought me down. That failure propelled me to a
lifetime of running.
Our General Manager was a brilliant yet incredibly personable leader. Dr.
Frederick Breitenfeld had an enormous influence on my fantasies of becoming a
writer. His encouragement gave me the confidence to keep typing forward. He was
the best boss I ever had.
It’s come full circle now. Sailing the Chesapeake, revisiting old
friends through the MCPB Facebook page and writing as my new moniker to carry.
I’d like to believe it all began there when a young sprout came up from
Tennessee to test the waters of this fledging television business, tip-toed the
bays and inlets and let his imagination sail in the fresh ocean breezes.
It was nice to
be home again…if only in my imagination.
