“A
Sinking Chesapeake Bay Island and the Way of the Watermen”
A short story
Author’s Note: Tangier Island is an
actual place. Some of the details about the island in this story are true. The
plot is fiction.
The Tangier Island watermen are hauling up a pot of blue crabs onto their fiberglass deadrise fishing boats, the blue-green water of the Chesapeake Bay around them glinting in the afternoon sun.
Aboard his rustic blue workboat
named “Old Bay,” 85-year-old Jack Pruitt bends down to examine the squirming,
fresh crabs in the sorting bin. It’s just another day on the water.
He knows it’s a long day ahead
following the flow of the crabs, and although he is exhausted, he still
considers this job the best in the world. As a “waterman” of the Chesapeake Bay
(what the fishermen around these parts are called), Jack feels like the crabs
and the water have been a part of him for so long, that he wouldn’t know what
to do without them. He has been working on this same boat for the past sixty
years.
Later that day on nearby Tangier
Island, another lifelong islander, ninety-three-year-old Jane Crockett, stands
on the small white island footbridge that connects two pieces of the shrinking
island across soggy green marsh. One hand is on her cane, while the other rests
on the railing of the bridge, where she has the best view on the island of the
sun sinking in a spectacular array of orange and pink on the horizon. It’s her
favorite part of the day and somehow she never grows tired of this magnificent
view.
Beside her, planted in the green
marshes, is a white cross. Jane, like the rest of the islanders, is
a Christian. She reflects with sadness
that, each day, she loses a little more of her home. It doesn’t help that she
vividly remembers how the island looked when she was a child—it was nearly
twice as large in size.
Tangier Island has been steadily sinking over time due to climate change and erosion. Some scientists predict Tangier could be gone in just fifty years. If the island sinks, Jane knows that that the island’s history and culture—unique to the world—will be gone forever. However, as a devout Christian, she holds fast to the belief that the island will be spared. She believes that the people of Tangier will find a way to survive.
She searches the distance for the ferry bringing over the day’s last load of tourists. That day, she had chatted with a few of the tourists who had come in on an earlier ferry. They are fascinated by the ways of the islanders—especially with the islanders’ dialect—and Jane is happy to talk to them. She knows a lot of the history of the island and the ways of the people, as she has lived here for over ninety years.
Her nephew Bill should also be on
the ferry, bringing over her groceries from the mainland. He will also bring
more paint and canvases. Jane is a talented painter and she paints portraits of
the islanders’ way of life.
It’s one way that she tries to share
her love of this place that is her whole world. In ninety-three years, she has
not left this tiny island even once to set foot on the mainland. Can you
imagine living your whole life on a three-mile strip of land? Jane married at
eighteen and she probably would have visited the Virginia mainland had her new
husband, who was in the military, not passed away there in a train accident
soon after he returned from war. He had gone over to the mainland to take a
train to New York for the funeral of one of his fallen comrades, when the train
derailed and he was killed.
After the accident, Jane could not
make herself leave the safety net of her island home even for a short visit to
the mainland. Then her father died suddenly from an illness. As result of the
two losses, Jane developed agoraphobia. For some reason, the mainland of
Virginia represented all that was foreign and dangerous. She had never been in
a car, or even a train, and she never hoped to either.
Nevertheless, she considers herself
to be quite happy on her island home, her own little cocoon. She has her daily
routine and many friends who visit her.
***
Unlike Jane, I (Mary) left Tangier
Island as soon as I graduated from the island high school. I had dreams of
being a professional actress in New York.
Tangier Island is located twelve
miles from the Virginia mainland, in the center of the Chesapeake Bay. The only
way to get there is by ferry. The island is known as the “soft crab capital of
the nation.” Most of the men on Tangier Island work on the Chesapeake Bay water
as watermen.
The way of the watermen stretches
back generations in Tangier families and crabbing sets the rhythm for the
island. The men wake up early—3 am—to begin their work on the water. A small
number of Tangier boys join the military instead. Tangier Island has a very
isolated and unique culture, as well as a rich history. Here, life moves at a
much slower pace than the rest of the outside world and has little-changed in
centuries. The island was settled by Cornish fishermen in the 17th century and
almost everyone is descended from the original clans and has one of four last
names. The people have their own English dialect that is often called
Elizabethan English, although it is more likely Cornish roots. There is a rare
inherited disease called “Tangier Disease,” that originated there and includes
an increased risk of cardiovascular disease.
According to the plaque on the main
street, the island was named in 1608 by Captain John Smith, who got the name
from either Tangier, Morocco or Tangier pottery in northern Africa. In
2009, the population was 528 residents. But one hundred years ago, there were
well over 1,500 residents.
Today, everyone uses golf carts to get around the island and there are few cars. Tombstones of deceased ancestors crowd the front yards of the natives’ houses.
The island is separated into ridges. There is Main Ridge, Canton, and West Ridge. The northern part of Main Ridge is called Meat Soup Court. That’s where Mrs. Jane Crockett lived. Some of the places on the island are Sheep’s Hill, Black Dye, and Hog Ridge. I grew up on Hog Ridge. The largest channel is Big Gut where the teenagers dropped their old soda cans, hence the name.
My childhood on Tangier was filled with happy memories and, even after I left the island to pursue a career as a professional actress in New York, I never forgot my island home. I remembered riding bikes around the island with my brothers, Ron and Sam, and neighbors past dusk, our parents never having to worry about our safety because there is no crime on the island. On windy days, we’d search the small island beach where the blowing sand would reveal arrowheads left over from the Choctaw Indians who lived there centuries ago. Then we’d skip them on the water or, sometimes, we could sell them to the tourists for some change alongside our lemonade stand.
Today, everyone uses golf carts to get around the island and there are few cars. Tombstones of deceased ancestors crowd the front yards of the natives’ houses.
The island is separated into ridges. There is Main Ridge, Canton, and West Ridge. The northern part of Main Ridge is called Meat Soup Court. That’s where Mrs. Jane Crockett lived. Some of the places on the island are Sheep’s Hill, Black Dye, and Hog Ridge. I grew up on Hog Ridge. The largest channel is Big Gut where the teenagers dropped their old soda cans, hence the name.
My childhood on Tangier was filled with happy memories and, even after I left the island to pursue a career as a professional actress in New York, I never forgot my island home. I remembered riding bikes around the island with my brothers, Ron and Sam, and neighbors past dusk, our parents never having to worry about our safety because there is no crime on the island. On windy days, we’d search the small island beach where the blowing sand would reveal arrowheads left over from the Choctaw Indians who lived there centuries ago. Then we’d skip them on the water or, sometimes, we could sell them to the tourists for some change alongside our lemonade stand.
Above us, ospreys would fret against
the backdrop of the clear blue sky. In the evenings, everyone gathered at
Spankey’s, the local 1950’s-style ice cream parlor to hang out and gossip. In a
small town, there aren’t any secrets. The upside is that it is very tight-knit
and neighbors help each other out.
Long after I left my island home, I
could still close my eyes and remember being out on the crab skiff in the
silent hours of the morning, shafts of the pink dawn rising in the east. The engine
hummed steadily below my feet while the birds made their morning calls
overhead.
And the nights on Tangier Island—how different they are than the nights in the city. There are no street lamps on the island and the air is heavy with the scent of the Bay.
And the nights on Tangier Island—how different they are than the nights in the city. There are no street lamps on the island and the air is heavy with the scent of the Bay.
Jane Crockett was the
grandmother I never had, as my own grandmother died before I was born. Jane was
a striking woman and, even though she was in her nineties, the beauty she had
once been still peaked through in her face.
I often visited her and we’d sip tea
on her front porch. Jane was a collector of antique tea sets. She always told
me I could have them when I got older and had a home of my own.
She had twenty cats, which roamed
all over the island. Every morning, Jane had a cup of coffee on her front porch
where she had a spectacular view of the water. Next, she would arrange her
collection of glass angel ornaments in the window sill so that they reflected
the light just in a certain way.
The other interesting character on
the island who was my friend was the librarian, Debbie Pruitt. Debbie wasn’t a
Tangier native, which wasn’t the norm. Debbie married Samuel Pruitt, a Tangier
native who had left the island to attend college on the mainland. That’s where
he met Debbie. After they married, they moved back to the island. Debbie really
had a tough time adjusting to life on the island. It really is a tough society
to break into. In fact, when Debbie and Samuel first met, it was difficult for
them to understand each other because of Samuel’s heavy Tangier dialect.
Debbie couldn’t get used to the lack
of modern conveniences on the island until she became the librarian, which gave
her something to do. It was the perfect job for her. She had real world
experience having lived on the mainland for most of her life. And so she could
recommend the best books to the islanders. She had a habit of lending me books
about life outside of Tangier Island, which fueled my desire to engage with the
outside world. She was the most well-read of all of us. Her husband, Samuel
Crockett, was an island waterman.
One summer, Debbie proposed a reading challenge. The challenge was to see which Tangier child could read the most number of books and write essays about them. I ended up winning the contest, which worried my mom a little bit. Of course she was proud of me, but she also felt a little sad that I was dreaming big about life on the mainland through all of the books I was reading and she knew she would greatly miss me if I left. After all, I was the baby of the family.
And so I felt a little torn about leaving my family and the island, but at the same time, I knew I had to follow my dreams.
Another central figure in my life was Dr. Coptor, the island doctor. He had a practice on the mainland, but every week he took his chopper out to the island to treat us. He did this for sixteen years without missing a week. On stormy days, he caught the mail boat over. The islanders named him Dr. Coptor but his real name was George Smith. I still remember the winter I had acute appendicitis. I was sixteen. Dr. Coptor flew me first class on his chopper to the mainland. Of course my family didn’t have health insurance—no one on Tangier did. And so I couldn’t believe it when I found out that the doctor had footed the bill for my surgery out of his own pocket. What a kind man.
After that, Dr. Coptor would sometimes let me catch a ride to the mainland when I needed more inspiration for my screenplays. You see, sometimes I wanted to write my own plays.
Speaking of screenplays, let me take you back to the summer I graduated from the island high school. It was a good crab harvest that year and so everyone was in a good mood. Then one cool summer afternoon, we found out that Hollywood wanted to film a scene from the movie Message in a Bottle on the island beach, starring Kevin Cosner.
One summer, Debbie proposed a reading challenge. The challenge was to see which Tangier child could read the most number of books and write essays about them. I ended up winning the contest, which worried my mom a little bit. Of course she was proud of me, but she also felt a little sad that I was dreaming big about life on the mainland through all of the books I was reading and she knew she would greatly miss me if I left. After all, I was the baby of the family.
And so I felt a little torn about leaving my family and the island, but at the same time, I knew I had to follow my dreams.
Another central figure in my life was Dr. Coptor, the island doctor. He had a practice on the mainland, but every week he took his chopper out to the island to treat us. He did this for sixteen years without missing a week. On stormy days, he caught the mail boat over. The islanders named him Dr. Coptor but his real name was George Smith. I still remember the winter I had acute appendicitis. I was sixteen. Dr. Coptor flew me first class on his chopper to the mainland. Of course my family didn’t have health insurance—no one on Tangier did. And so I couldn’t believe it when I found out that the doctor had footed the bill for my surgery out of his own pocket. What a kind man.
After that, Dr. Coptor would sometimes let me catch a ride to the mainland when I needed more inspiration for my screenplays. You see, sometimes I wanted to write my own plays.
Speaking of screenplays, let me take you back to the summer I graduated from the island high school. It was a good crab harvest that year and so everyone was in a good mood. Then one cool summer afternoon, we found out that Hollywood wanted to film a scene from the movie Message in a Bottle on the island beach, starring Kevin Cosner.
Everyone was excited, especially
since Hollywood had offered to pay $5,000 for the use of the island.
I was perhaps more excited than the rest because, ever since I was young, I had had aspirations to be an actress. I put on plays for my family and friends and recruited my siblings and friends to act in them, but of course, I always had the leading role. I also used to study people and what made them tick. I had a gift for getting inside people’s heads and inhabiting their thoughts and emotions.
Then my father, who was the town mayor, voted along with the town council to reject Hollywood’s proposal because the film had a beer in one scene. Tangier is a dry island and the islanders are devout Christians. My father and the other council members were worried about the effects of the movie on the younger generation. They wanted to keep Tangier Island’s customs going into the future.
Almost everyone else on the island disagreed. It was only one beer, and so we all signed a petition, but it was to no avail. I was greatly disappointed and was growing tired of the Tangier way of life. I thought it might have been my only opportunity to get close to a real movie with real actors. How would I ever launch my career now?
I was perhaps more excited than the rest because, ever since I was young, I had had aspirations to be an actress. I put on plays for my family and friends and recruited my siblings and friends to act in them, but of course, I always had the leading role. I also used to study people and what made them tick. I had a gift for getting inside people’s heads and inhabiting their thoughts and emotions.
Then my father, who was the town mayor, voted along with the town council to reject Hollywood’s proposal because the film had a beer in one scene. Tangier is a dry island and the islanders are devout Christians. My father and the other council members were worried about the effects of the movie on the younger generation. They wanted to keep Tangier Island’s customs going into the future.
Almost everyone else on the island disagreed. It was only one beer, and so we all signed a petition, but it was to no avail. I was greatly disappointed and was growing tired of the Tangier way of life. I thought it might have been my only opportunity to get close to a real movie with real actors. How would I ever launch my career now?
That summer I also spent more time
at the Tangier Bed and Breakfast, called the Bay View Inn. I often would go there
to visit with the tourists and hear their tales of the mainland. It was almost
like traveling to a foreign country. That was where I met Anne, a teacher from
New York City, and her husband, John. Anne and John had searched for a quiet,
small place to spend part of the summer away from the bustle of the city and
came across Tangier Island. They’d tell me stories about the big city and I
felt closer to my dreams.
When I told Anne and John about how the town council rejected the filming of Message in a Bottle on the island, they were sympathetic.
The night before Anne and John were due to go back to New York, Anne had an idea. “Why don’t you go to New York?” she said. “You know there’s no better place to get an acting career off the ground than the Big Apple.”
I smiled at the thought but shook my head. “I don’t think it will be possible.”
“You could work,” Anne persisted. “A friend of mine is actually looking for a nanny. Maybe you can work as a nanny until your career takes off.”
If I hadn’t been feeling so disappointed by my father rejecting the Hollywood movie on the island, then I’m sure I would have said no. Usually I wasn’t impulsive. But I had just graduated school and I was feeling desperate for a change.
Then I looked at the moon hanging low in the sky. Did I really want to leave all of this behind? Yet something suddenly rose in me that felt like resolve. I knew I might never get another opportunity like this.
I slowly nodded. “I’ll come,” I said.
The next day I broke the news to my parents. My father just stared at me and I could see he was disappointed. “What about Tom?” he said, referring to the boy next door, Tom Crockett. “We’d hoped you’d get married and then you could work in the island school like your sister.”
“I want to be an actress,” I asserted.
“Well,” my father said, “I don’t know what you’re chasing in New York, but your mother and I, all of us on the island, we’re proud of our heritage and the traditions that have been passed down through the centuries. No one in this family has ever left here before.”
He sighed. “It’s you young people that are letting the island sink without a second thought to what will be lost. When I was young, we were all content to stay here.
“I love this island—but I cannot save it on my own,” he added.
I hadn’t expected my parents to be thrilled about me moving to New York, but I’d hoped for their support. However, my mind was already made up.
When I told Anne and John about how the town council rejected the filming of Message in a Bottle on the island, they were sympathetic.
The night before Anne and John were due to go back to New York, Anne had an idea. “Why don’t you go to New York?” she said. “You know there’s no better place to get an acting career off the ground than the Big Apple.”
I smiled at the thought but shook my head. “I don’t think it will be possible.”
“You could work,” Anne persisted. “A friend of mine is actually looking for a nanny. Maybe you can work as a nanny until your career takes off.”
If I hadn’t been feeling so disappointed by my father rejecting the Hollywood movie on the island, then I’m sure I would have said no. Usually I wasn’t impulsive. But I had just graduated school and I was feeling desperate for a change.
Then I looked at the moon hanging low in the sky. Did I really want to leave all of this behind? Yet something suddenly rose in me that felt like resolve. I knew I might never get another opportunity like this.
I slowly nodded. “I’ll come,” I said.
The next day I broke the news to my parents. My father just stared at me and I could see he was disappointed. “What about Tom?” he said, referring to the boy next door, Tom Crockett. “We’d hoped you’d get married and then you could work in the island school like your sister.”
“I want to be an actress,” I asserted.
“Well,” my father said, “I don’t know what you’re chasing in New York, but your mother and I, all of us on the island, we’re proud of our heritage and the traditions that have been passed down through the centuries. No one in this family has ever left here before.”
He sighed. “It’s you young people that are letting the island sink without a second thought to what will be lost. When I was young, we were all content to stay here.
“I love this island—but I cannot save it on my own,” he added.
I hadn’t expected my parents to be thrilled about me moving to New York, but I’d hoped for their support. However, my mind was already made up.
A few days later, Ron, my oldest
brother, came to me. “Mary,” he said. “If you’re tired of it here, then you can
get a job in Reedville (Virginia). It’s just across the Bay and then you can be
back here at night. Being an actress is unrealistic, you’re getting yourself in
over your head.”
I felt a part of me start to weaken.
Maybe he was right…was I being selfish to chase a dream that may not even pan
out? But I knew that this might be the only way to prove to my family that
there was more to life than Tangier Island. I had to go through with my plan, I
decided.
I left the next day with Anne and
John.
Sitting there on the ferry, I
watched ripples of water moving away from the boat as it ploughed ahead, away
from the island–and towards my new life. The ripples barely made a dent in the
wide blue expanse and something about that made me feel nostalgic, even though
I had only just left my home. Tangier Island is like that–the passage of time
slow and barely making an impression on the culture that has little-changed in
hundreds of years. And I knew New York would be the opposite.
Then I looked up and there was a rainbow. Its colors were bold and clearly defined against the pale sky. I had always loved rainbows as a child, but now I was no longer a child—I was making my way into adulthood.
I smiled, thinking it might be a good omen. But really, it felt like a gateway to a drastically different world—one I wasn’t sure I was prepared for.
Then I looked up and there was a rainbow. Its colors were bold and clearly defined against the pale sky. I had always loved rainbows as a child, but now I was no longer a child—I was making my way into adulthood.
I smiled, thinking it might be a good omen. But really, it felt like a gateway to a drastically different world—one I wasn’t sure I was prepared for.
***
When we arrived in New York City,
Anne and John showed me all around. It was nothing like Tangier, and I began to
feel homesick. However, I wanted to prove to my family that I could make it on
my own, so I put on a brave face.
Like Anne promised, her friend gave me a job as a nanny. Now I just had to get into acting classes in the evenings and go to auditions on the weekends. It was a challenging schedule, but I had ambitions for once in my life.
One day, I got something in the mail. It was a check from Debbie Pruitt. I felt warmed by her generosity, but I knew I couldn’t accept the money. Debbie was not well off herself.
Like Anne promised, her friend gave me a job as a nanny. Now I just had to get into acting classes in the evenings and go to auditions on the weekends. It was a challenging schedule, but I had ambitions for once in my life.
One day, I got something in the mail. It was a check from Debbie Pruitt. I felt warmed by her generosity, but I knew I couldn’t accept the money. Debbie was not well off herself.
“Thank you Debbie,” I wrote back. “I
hope you and the others are well. Keep me in your prayers.”
A few years passed. Then I landed a small role in a play at a small dinner theater. Of course I didn’t expect my family to attend. They didn’t even know I had landed the role. In the play’s program, I had put in a little plug for my island in my bio. One day, I thought, I’ll be famous and my name will mean something. Maybe then I’ll be able to put Tangier on the map and perhaps raise awareness about the island’s plight, I thought.
So you can imagine my surprise when after the show, I saw Dr. Coptor walking towards me. He handed me his program. “Will you sign my program?” he asked.
Again, I was touched by his kindness. Dr. Coptor said he had been in town attending a professional conference and had heard about my play.
A few years passed. Then I landed a small role in a play at a small dinner theater. Of course I didn’t expect my family to attend. They didn’t even know I had landed the role. In the play’s program, I had put in a little plug for my island in my bio. One day, I thought, I’ll be famous and my name will mean something. Maybe then I’ll be able to put Tangier on the map and perhaps raise awareness about the island’s plight, I thought.
So you can imagine my surprise when after the show, I saw Dr. Coptor walking towards me. He handed me his program. “Will you sign my program?” he asked.
Again, I was touched by his kindness. Dr. Coptor said he had been in town attending a professional conference and had heard about my play.
“How’s mom, dad, Sarah (my sister)
and the others?” I asked.
“Just fine,” said Dr. Coptor. “It was also a good harvest this year and tourism has spiked. We think it’s because of the recent newspaper article on the Tangier Bed and Breakfast. Everyone wants to stay there now.”
I remembered that, when she got back to New York, Anne had written a glowing freelance review of the B&B and submitted it to a local newspaper.
“That’s good,” I said. “I bet that that makes dad happy seeing as he’s the mayor.” It felt good that my new friends had played a small part in helping the island and my family by writing the article.
Dr. Coptor wiped his brow then and a sadness came into his eyes. “But Mary,” he said. “You should know that we are losing ground at an alarming rate. Just this year we lost fifteen feet of land.”
I was hit by a pang. I had left my island home looking for adventure. But what if it disappeared? When I visited, would all of my childhood memories be gone? I felt a little guilty about leaving my home and worried that I might forget where I came from.
I wondered why Dr. Coptor had felt the need to bring this up now. Perhaps he felt I should know because my father was distressed about it. I felt very conflicted and it kept me awake at nights.
***
And just like that, three years passed. Then one day, out of the blue, I got a letter from my sister.
“Dad’s sick,” it said. “Will you please come home?”
The next day, I headed back home to Tangier Island.
Sitting on the ferry on the way back to the island, I reflected how my childhood memories are like a place lost in time. I changed after I left the island, I knew. I wondered again if it is a person’s upbringing that molds their future, or if it is possible to change course and create your own destiny. Would I ever get the chance to find out?
My sister and mother were there to greet me on the dock. When we walked into the house, I saw my father lying there on the couch. He looked nothing like the father I knew, and guilt filled me as I realized I had abandoned my family. Then my mom told me about what my father had been doing before he got sick.
“He was attending meetings on the mainland, trying to get the word out about Tangier’s future and how the island is sinking. It’s going to take a lot of lobbying and funding to save this place,” she said.
“But now that he’s sick, he just can’t fight to save the island anymore,” she added.
It was then that I realized I had to do everything in my power to help my father, continue the work he had started, and save the island.
“Just fine,” said Dr. Coptor. “It was also a good harvest this year and tourism has spiked. We think it’s because of the recent newspaper article on the Tangier Bed and Breakfast. Everyone wants to stay there now.”
I remembered that, when she got back to New York, Anne had written a glowing freelance review of the B&B and submitted it to a local newspaper.
“That’s good,” I said. “I bet that that makes dad happy seeing as he’s the mayor.” It felt good that my new friends had played a small part in helping the island and my family by writing the article.
Dr. Coptor wiped his brow then and a sadness came into his eyes. “But Mary,” he said. “You should know that we are losing ground at an alarming rate. Just this year we lost fifteen feet of land.”
I was hit by a pang. I had left my island home looking for adventure. But what if it disappeared? When I visited, would all of my childhood memories be gone? I felt a little guilty about leaving my home and worried that I might forget where I came from.
I wondered why Dr. Coptor had felt the need to bring this up now. Perhaps he felt I should know because my father was distressed about it. I felt very conflicted and it kept me awake at nights.
***
And just like that, three years passed. Then one day, out of the blue, I got a letter from my sister.
“Dad’s sick,” it said. “Will you please come home?”
The next day, I headed back home to Tangier Island.
Sitting on the ferry on the way back to the island, I reflected how my childhood memories are like a place lost in time. I changed after I left the island, I knew. I wondered again if it is a person’s upbringing that molds their future, or if it is possible to change course and create your own destiny. Would I ever get the chance to find out?
My sister and mother were there to greet me on the dock. When we walked into the house, I saw my father lying there on the couch. He looked nothing like the father I knew, and guilt filled me as I realized I had abandoned my family. Then my mom told me about what my father had been doing before he got sick.
“He was attending meetings on the mainland, trying to get the word out about Tangier’s future and how the island is sinking. It’s going to take a lot of lobbying and funding to save this place,” she said.
“But now that he’s sick, he just can’t fight to save the island anymore,” she added.
It was then that I realized I had to do everything in my power to help my father, continue the work he had started, and save the island.
***
The next day, I knocked on Jane Crockett’s door. She opened the door and I noticed that her hands were shaking a little more as she stepped onto the porch with her cane, her white hair pulled back neatly. But she was still the Jane that I remembered.
The next day, I knocked on Jane Crockett’s door. She opened the door and I noticed that her hands were shaking a little more as she stepped onto the porch with her cane, her white hair pulled back neatly. But she was still the Jane that I remembered.
I heard that she’d been sick with a
fatal illness. Cancer, my sister had
told me. Sadness filled me and I hoped that she could beat the cancer. I
realized that we were in a race against time. Not only did I not want to lose
her, but I also knew that we would need her wisdom to save the island.
“Jane, it’s so good to see you!” I said, and she immediately enveloped me in a hug.
Jane studied my face. “Tell me about New York,” she said. “Please sit down.”
We talked for a good long while, just catching up. Then, as if she could read my mind, she suddenly changed topics.
“Jane, it’s so good to see you!” I said, and she immediately enveloped me in a hug.
Jane studied my face. “Tell me about New York,” she said. “Please sit down.”
We talked for a good long while, just catching up. Then, as if she could read my mind, she suddenly changed topics.
“I was sorry to hear about your
father,” she said. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. The people say that
only a seawall will save the island. I wish I could help myself. I hate to see
the Tangier society disappear.
“Did I ever tell you the story about my husband?” she continued.
I had heard the story many times. But I shook my head and listened as Jane repeated the story again. Jane’s husband fought in World War II and had earned a purple heart. He made it through the war, but a few months after he returned, he went back to the mainland and took the train to New York to attend the funeral of one of his fallen comrades. On the way, the train derailed and he was killed.
“Well,” Jane Crockett continued. “If only we had the book.”
“Book?” I said, confused.
Jane laid her hands in her lap and looked up at me. “When my husband died, he was working on a book on the history of the island. It included dozens of oral interviews with lifelong islanders as well as historical research.
“But everything was lost when he died.”
“That was a good idea to write a book on the island’s history,” I said. “Something similar might help us in our efforts to save the island.”
Ideas for fundraisers were formulating in my mind. Then I remembered that Anne worked for the Environmental Defense Fund. She always talked about how her organization tried to spread the word about climate change and its effects on our planet. Maybe the organization would be able to help us somehow and lobby the state legislature.
That night, I called Anne. She
agreed to come to Tangier Island and do what she could to help. Over the phone,
Anne and I brainstormed ideas. We could open a gift shop for tourists on the
island. Jane had always been shy about selling her paintings, but maybe she
would be willing to put a few of them up for sale in the gift shop. In
addition, I had the idea that we could produce a documentary about the island and
sell it in the gift shop.
“What about a race for the cause?”
Anne said one night. We knew that we had a tough road ahead of us, since we
would probably need to raise several million dollars for the seawall. We had
done our homework—contacted erosion experts, ect.—to get an estimate on the
cost.
“We could host a marathon,” Anne
continued. “Get runners to have people sponsor them. I bet we could raise a lot
of money that way.”
But first, we decided to get to work
on the documentary.
Anne also did a lot of photography
and videography as a hobby, so I knew she could help us. If anyone could help
us document the island in an artistically pleasing way, it would be her.
***
The documentary would mainly focus on an extensive interview with Jane Crockett and the other elders, but we also planned to interview many of the young people. In addition, we planned to take shots of many of the historical buildings around the island and provide information on their historical significance.
Finally, we planned to interview some scientists on erosion and what it was doing to the island, as well as what it would take to save the island. Did Tangier just need a seawall or did it need even more technology to save it?
And so we started filming. First we interviewed Jane Crockett on film about her memories of the island.
“What is your fondest memory of Tangier Island?” Anne asked on film.
“It was the August Storm of 1933,” Jane began. “Homes were flooded to the second story. We really pulled together as a people. All of the books on the island were ruined because we couldn’t transport them out of the library fast enough before the floods came. The children could climb in the tops of the trees because the trees up to their tops were underwater. We got some canoes and everyone on the island paddled around in canoes. The cats needed to be saved. Especially my cats. Back then I had twenty cats. I moved them to the top floor of my house, and they were still scared, but we managed to save them all.”
Then we took shots of my mother working as a waitress in The Fisherman’s Corner restaurant where the wives of the watermen sold their husbands’ daily catch to the tourists direct and fresh from the Bay. We wanted to show how tourism supports the economy of Tangier.
In addition, we filmed a day in the life of a waterman. One of the watermen we interviewed was Dan Crockett. Dan talked about fishing on the water.
“My father was a watermen and he died on his crab skiff when he was 98. We do not earn money if we do not work. There is no retirement for us. But we do it because we love to be on the water,” he said.
Then we decided to interview some young people. The young people mostly talked about the sense of community on Tangier. Everyone knows everyone and people will help you out at the drop of a hat. They talked about how their fathers and grandfathers would let them go out on the boats in the early mornings sometimes and how much fun it was to catch crabs on the water. Some of them talked about how they were going to follow in their fathers’ and grandfathers’ footsteps and become watermen.
We also interviewed my sister, Sara Pruitt. Sara had settled down on the island after graduating school and had married another islander who she grew up with, Samuel Parks. They now have five children. My sister talked about how she is continuing the Tangier legacy.
Towards the end of the film, we had onscreen interviews with local scientists and experts on the Chesapeake Bay and erosion. The film closed with an ominous prediction from one expert:
***
The documentary would mainly focus on an extensive interview with Jane Crockett and the other elders, but we also planned to interview many of the young people. In addition, we planned to take shots of many of the historical buildings around the island and provide information on their historical significance.
Finally, we planned to interview some scientists on erosion and what it was doing to the island, as well as what it would take to save the island. Did Tangier just need a seawall or did it need even more technology to save it?
And so we started filming. First we interviewed Jane Crockett on film about her memories of the island.
“What is your fondest memory of Tangier Island?” Anne asked on film.
“It was the August Storm of 1933,” Jane began. “Homes were flooded to the second story. We really pulled together as a people. All of the books on the island were ruined because we couldn’t transport them out of the library fast enough before the floods came. The children could climb in the tops of the trees because the trees up to their tops were underwater. We got some canoes and everyone on the island paddled around in canoes. The cats needed to be saved. Especially my cats. Back then I had twenty cats. I moved them to the top floor of my house, and they were still scared, but we managed to save them all.”
Then we took shots of my mother working as a waitress in The Fisherman’s Corner restaurant where the wives of the watermen sold their husbands’ daily catch to the tourists direct and fresh from the Bay. We wanted to show how tourism supports the economy of Tangier.
In addition, we filmed a day in the life of a waterman. One of the watermen we interviewed was Dan Crockett. Dan talked about fishing on the water.
“My father was a watermen and he died on his crab skiff when he was 98. We do not earn money if we do not work. There is no retirement for us. But we do it because we love to be on the water,” he said.
Then we decided to interview some young people. The young people mostly talked about the sense of community on Tangier. Everyone knows everyone and people will help you out at the drop of a hat. They talked about how their fathers and grandfathers would let them go out on the boats in the early mornings sometimes and how much fun it was to catch crabs on the water. Some of them talked about how they were going to follow in their fathers’ and grandfathers’ footsteps and become watermen.
We also interviewed my sister, Sara Pruitt. Sara had settled down on the island after graduating school and had married another islander who she grew up with, Samuel Parks. They now have five children. My sister talked about how she is continuing the Tangier legacy.
Towards the end of the film, we had onscreen interviews with local scientists and experts on the Chesapeake Bay and erosion. The film closed with an ominous prediction from one expert:
“If
the island sinks,” he warned, “Tangier natives will become the first climate
change refugees in the United States. The plight of Tangier Island should
create a sense of urgency,” he went on, “because other coastal cities in the
United States may suffer the same fate.”
And that was the end.
We then decided to mail the
documentary to the governor of Virginia, just so that he could be aware of how
Tangier Island is sinking. We also mailed a note that read:
Dear
Virginia Governor,
We
are writing to you about a problem that affects our home, Tangier Island. It’s
not well known, but it is located in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay. We are
small, with a population of just 600…But we are proud of our heritage and our
unique culture that has survived for hundreds of years.
For
many of us, including Jane Crockett, a 97-year-old lifelong resident, this is
the only home we’ve ever known.
Our
problem is that the island is sinking.
We
are asking that you help us to build a seawall to stop the advancing waters and
erosion. You see, if something isn’t done, Tangier residents will be the first
climate change refugees in the U.S. We realize that it will be an expensive
project. But remember that many Tangier men have fought and died defending this
country in the military. They are citizens too and deserve to be protected.
Many of us here also work on the water as fishermen. This is our livelihood.
Please
consider our proposal.
Sincerely,
The
people of Tangier Island
Finally, we got a response.
It read:
“Dear Mayor of Tangier,
Thank you for your informative documentary. We have heard of Tangier Island and about how the island is sinking.
We also know that many of the young people are leaving the island to find opportunities elsewhere. We believe that the culture of Tangier is already dying out.
For these reasons, we will probably not support a seawall as the population on Tangier is declining and we don’t see it as a good investment.”
Sincerely,
Virginia Governor
When I finished reading the letter, overwhelming shame engulfed me. I was one of the very young people the governor was talking about. I had left the island looking for a better life. How could I argue now that Tangier should be saved without looking like a hypocrite?
But even though I had left, Tangier would always be my home. No matter where you go in the world, nothing can replace your home. Of course Tangier was worth saving.
It was time to come up with a new battle plan, I thought with resolve.
We threw our efforts into planning for the fundraising marathon. It would be held in Reedville, Virginia. The Environmental Defense Fund agreed to help spread the word and an ad for the race was published in the local newspapers. However, we thought we needed something more. Then Anne had the idea that Jane Crockett could give a short speech at the beginning of the race before the starting gun went off. She had a unique life story and I believed she could put a human face to our cause. It was her dying wish to save her homeland, Tangier Island, and I believed people would sympathize.
“Dear Mayor of Tangier,
Thank you for your informative documentary. We have heard of Tangier Island and about how the island is sinking.
We also know that many of the young people are leaving the island to find opportunities elsewhere. We believe that the culture of Tangier is already dying out.
For these reasons, we will probably not support a seawall as the population on Tangier is declining and we don’t see it as a good investment.”
Sincerely,
Virginia Governor
When I finished reading the letter, overwhelming shame engulfed me. I was one of the very young people the governor was talking about. I had left the island looking for a better life. How could I argue now that Tangier should be saved without looking like a hypocrite?
But even though I had left, Tangier would always be my home. No matter where you go in the world, nothing can replace your home. Of course Tangier was worth saving.
It was time to come up with a new battle plan, I thought with resolve.
We threw our efforts into planning for the fundraising marathon. It would be held in Reedville, Virginia. The Environmental Defense Fund agreed to help spread the word and an ad for the race was published in the local newspapers. However, we thought we needed something more. Then Anne had the idea that Jane Crockett could give a short speech at the beginning of the race before the starting gun went off. She had a unique life story and I believed she could put a human face to our cause. It was her dying wish to save her homeland, Tangier Island, and I believed people would sympathize.
The marathon would be called “Run
for Jane.” Jane didn’t have much longer to live and I was determined to save the
island—for her sake.
But getting Jane to agree to leave
the island in order to attend the race would be nearly impossible, I realized.
After all, she had never been off the island and she would have to do it in
order to raise awareness for the seawall. Jane would have to confront her
biggest fear: leaving the island and overcoming her agoraphobia.
The next week, I approached Jane. It took six months, but we were finally able to convince her. She was terrified to leave the island, but her desire to save the island was even greater than her fear.
When we had taken the ferry over to the mainland, Jane started to have separation anxiety. The sight of cars terrified her—as well as the street lights.
We had to catch a taxi and when we were inside, the taxi zipped and zigzagged around the city. “Oh dear,” Jane Crockett exclaimed. The only time she had come close to such a thrill ride was when her golf cart, (which everyone uses to get around Tangier as there are no cars on the island), overturned and she flew into the soft bed of the marshes.
***
The day of the race, Jane walked up to the podium.
“My name is Jane Crockett and I’m here to tell you why Tangier Island needs to have a seawall,” she began.
“When I was two years old, my father took me on the crab skiff. He worked all day, dawn to dusk, until he was 95. My grandfather did the same and his father before him and his father before him. That’s five generations,” she said.
“Now, all of my ancestors made their living on Tangier Island. It would be a shame for the way of the watermen to vanish.”
“I myself had hoped that my final resting place would be there next to my husband on the beloved island where we both grew up,” she continued. “What will happen to us when the island goes under the water?”
“We’re a simple people,” Jane Crockett went on to say. “We’ve never asked for anything from the public until now. Of course, a seawall costs a lot of money. It’s a multi-million dollar cost for such a small place with not many residents.
The next week, I approached Jane. It took six months, but we were finally able to convince her. She was terrified to leave the island, but her desire to save the island was even greater than her fear.
When we had taken the ferry over to the mainland, Jane started to have separation anxiety. The sight of cars terrified her—as well as the street lights.
We had to catch a taxi and when we were inside, the taxi zipped and zigzagged around the city. “Oh dear,” Jane Crockett exclaimed. The only time she had come close to such a thrill ride was when her golf cart, (which everyone uses to get around Tangier as there are no cars on the island), overturned and she flew into the soft bed of the marshes.
***
The day of the race, Jane walked up to the podium.
“My name is Jane Crockett and I’m here to tell you why Tangier Island needs to have a seawall,” she began.
“When I was two years old, my father took me on the crab skiff. He worked all day, dawn to dusk, until he was 95. My grandfather did the same and his father before him and his father before him. That’s five generations,” she said.
“Now, all of my ancestors made their living on Tangier Island. It would be a shame for the way of the watermen to vanish.”
“I myself had hoped that my final resting place would be there next to my husband on the beloved island where we both grew up,” she continued. “What will happen to us when the island goes under the water?”
“We’re a simple people,” Jane Crockett went on to say. “We’ve never asked for anything from the public until now. Of course, a seawall costs a lot of money. It’s a multi-million dollar cost for such a small place with not many residents.
“But it’s our small size that makes
us unique,” she added. “Tangier Island is a special place. I speak for all of
the natives when I say that we could never imagine living anywhere else.
“Now I am going to tell you the story of my husband, Joseph Crockett, a United States veteran,” she continued. “Like some Tangier boys, my husband decided to join the military when he graduated high school. He bravely served his country for four years. He was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. He was awarded a purple heart for his heroism. Fortunately, he survived the war, but a few months after he returned, he was killed in a freak accident. My husband nearly gave his life for his country, but people have forgotten him and other Tangier veterans. Don’t you think this country owes them something for their service? They pledged their allegiance to their country, but the United States has not returned the favor. Soon my husband will be a late hero without a homeland to hail from.”
“After the accident that killed my husband,” she continued, “I made the decision to never leave the island. Tangier Island is the only home I’ve ever known. I’m asking for your help to save it.”
And then the starting gun went off, and the race was on.
***
Over the next few weeks, word spread of the race and Jane Crockett’s dying wish. The Washington Post did a feature story on Jane. Monetary donations poured in.
“Now I am going to tell you the story of my husband, Joseph Crockett, a United States veteran,” she continued. “Like some Tangier boys, my husband decided to join the military when he graduated high school. He bravely served his country for four years. He was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. He was awarded a purple heart for his heroism. Fortunately, he survived the war, but a few months after he returned, he was killed in a freak accident. My husband nearly gave his life for his country, but people have forgotten him and other Tangier veterans. Don’t you think this country owes them something for their service? They pledged their allegiance to their country, but the United States has not returned the favor. Soon my husband will be a late hero without a homeland to hail from.”
“After the accident that killed my husband,” she continued, “I made the decision to never leave the island. Tangier Island is the only home I’ve ever known. I’m asking for your help to save it.”
And then the starting gun went off, and the race was on.
***
Over the next few weeks, word spread of the race and Jane Crockett’s dying wish. The Washington Post did a feature story on Jane. Monetary donations poured in.
Tangier Island also got a lot of
press when President Trump called my father (the mayor). CNN had done a story
about the island, which Trump had watched. Then Trump called my father and
expressed his support for the island.
He said, “Your island has been there for hundreds of years, and I believe
your island will be there for hundreds more.”
My father asked Trump to help build
a seawall. “We voted for you overwhelmingly in the 2016 election,” my father
said. “We both know the importance of walls to guard our homelands. You often
say, ‘No borders, no country.’ Well, I say that without a seawall, there will
be no island. In our case, the invader is the Chesapeake Bay, eroding our
island.”
The president was supportive and,
with his support and the other monetary donations that came in, there was
finally enough money to build the seawall as well as a plan to build
breakwaters, pumped-in sand and new vegetation. It was a multi-million dollar
project.
The seawall was dedicated to Jane Crockett’s late husband. A gold plaque on the wall read:
“This seawall is in memory of Joseph Crockett.
United States Veteran,
Recipient of the Purple Heart
Husband and friend
He lies here forever on his beloved island home.”
The seawall was dedicated to Jane Crockett’s late husband. A gold plaque on the wall read:
“This seawall is in memory of Joseph Crockett.
United States Veteran,
Recipient of the Purple Heart
Husband and friend
He lies here forever on his beloved island home.”
Looking at the plaque, Jane pictured
her husband and her father as she remembered them years ago. And she smiled
because she knew they would be proud that she saved the island. At last, she
could rest.
***
Jane died that summer. We buried her next to her husband on the island. I planted maple trees next to their tombstones so that their memories would live on. I knew Jane would always hold a special place in my heart.
That Christmas, I landed my first major role in a Broadway play. I imagined that Jane was smiling down on me from Heaven.
***
Jane died that summer. We buried her next to her husband on the island. I planted maple trees next to their tombstones so that their memories would live on. I knew Jane would always hold a special place in my heart.
That Christmas, I landed my first major role in a Broadway play. I imagined that Jane was smiling down on me from Heaven.
As I took my place center stage, the
lights dimmed, then flickered back on briefly. I blinked, certain I was seeing
things. But, sure enough, there they all were—my entire family, including my
father, who had recovered from his illness. Even Ron and Sam were there, who
had doubted me in the beginning. Tears filled my eyes. It was the best
Christmas gift anyone could ask for.
Epilogue:
That summer, the islanders constructed a simple white cross. Then they planted it in the marshes on the edge of the island so that it is the first thing visitors see when they approach the island on the ferry. It is a reminder of their Faith: Jesus came to earth to save everyone, and even a small, humble people like the residents of Tangier Island, were not forgotten.
