Talk of Takoma • Howard Kohn July 2007 Sticking together and holding on

Separated by war

Earlier this year a military summons split up Greg and Beth Gorman, a popular coaching duo for Takoma Soccer and parents of three children. Greg, a Navy doctor, was assigned to Kuwait for a tour of overseas duty. Beth remained stateside at their Carroll Avenue home with Jack, Will and Anna.

In late June, honoring a request from the Voice, the couple filed separate reports about their time apart.

Greg: "The Navy has had me away from Takoma Park for five months now. I left home on Super Bowl Sunday for a month-long training in Norfolk and at Fort Jackson, S.C., before taking off for Camp Arifjan to serve with the Expeditionary Medical Facility-Kuwait.

Greg Gorman in Kuwait

"Arifjan is the main supply base for almost everything going into Iraq. It’s a well developed base away from overt danger, with mostly regular buildings, good gyms, library, and a pool. There’s A/C everywhere since it gets in the 120s regularly. I live in an open bay barracks with 40 other male officers, but I get a lower bunk. There’s wireless Internet and I can call Beth and the kids for free on the “morale” phones‚.

"I work in the Troop Medical Clinic and see about 100 patients a week. My patients are mainly staff officers, civilian contractors and young enlisted truck drivers. The latter are the heavy-lifters here; they drive the convoy missions up north and deal with threats of IEDs and small arms fire. They come in mostly for orthopedic complaints, staph infections and trouble sleeping. The contractors are generally older with hypertension, diabetes, high cholesterol and occasionally chest pain.

"I’ve been lucky to work with a lot of great doctors, nurses, corpsmen and patients who have made the time here a good experience despite the time away from home and family. The time away has been the hardest. The last time I deployed, Jack was five months old and I got back in time for his first birthday. This time around, I’ll have missed three birthdays, soccer and baseball seasons, the Fourth of July parade and all the other times in between.

"Beth and I are grateful for all the support of neighbors, friends, coaches and family during tour‚ deployment. I’m scheduled to come home in late August, hopefully in time for the start of the new school year."

The Gormans: Greg and Beth with kids Jack, Anna, and Will

Beth: "It’s been five months now since Greg left. It was a really big adjustment, the thought of all those nights and weekends as a single parent really scared me. I never thought I would be able to do it.

"When he first left I missed him, and also his contributions around the house, shoveling snow, playing football or baseball, entertaining the kids, taking out trash, running to the store. I resented doing those things alone, or even worse with three kids in tow. It didn’t help when people said he was “doing something good” or when they suggested that his going was “worthwhile,” or something to be proud of.

"While I know that he’s helping people, the fact that he’s even indirectly involved in such a terribly wrong war really bothers me, and his stories only reinforce those feelings. Although the military stills seems like a strange other world to me, since he’s been gone I identify more with the wives and families of those fighting in Iraq then I used to. I think about how much more stressful it must be for them knowing their husband/father may go back soon, or never come home.

"Now that it’s been five months I’m struck by how accustomed our family has become to Greg’s absence. All the activities of daily life, at first overwhelming, have become routine and feel like normal life to the kids and I.

"Of course we still have tough times, but now most just feel like regular tough times, and not directly linked to Greg’s absence. What I miss most now is the daily special moments, sharing a smile over the kids heads, watching a good movie together, or lingering together at the table after the kids are excused.

"I also feel his absence at the big events like birthdays, holidays, performances, and our son’s first communion. The kids are also used to their Dad being gone, and while it is good to know that they’ve adjusted it’s too bad that they’ve have had to.

"Like Greg I am glad that I am here in Takoma Park for this time. The support of our friends and neighbors stepping in to help with the little and the big things has made all the difference. Thanks."

Banjo Man, the Jazzy Juggler, & the market merry-go-round

Location matters. With Banjo Man having reluctantly agreed to move would the Sunday Gang find him in the hubbub of the farmers‚ market of Old Takoma? And would the whole carefree feel of his street show be thrown off away from the familiarity of his old spot?

For that matter, what about the Jazzy Juggler since he, too, with the relocation of Banjo Man, had lost his spot?

Frank Cassel, as Banjo Man is known when he is not entertaining gleeful munchkins with “The Wheels on the Bus,” or their toe-tapping parents with “This Land is Your Land,” had been a presence at the market for 13 years, and for the past three he had settled on the sidewalk squares in front of SunTrust Bank as his venue.

It was a pretty big venue, commensurate with his popularity. On top mornings, when his audience took up the entire walkway, while clapping in full fever or dancing jigs or just plopped down powwow-style, the passersby could step around into the street where there is a convenient No Parking zone.

Photo:Julie Wiatt

Frank Cassel, a.k.a. The Banjo Man

Then, early in May, someone upset about the cleaning bill at the bank lodged a complaint. Banjo Man’s young fans, during his breaks, would often scrabble about and draw sidewalk art with colored chalk, and the next day, if evening rains didn’t wash away the chalk, it would get tracked onto the carpet in the bank lobby.

For a while, there appeared to be the makings of a little Banjo Man drama. Rumors circulated that Banjo Man was to be driven from the market. A corporate overreaction, a consequence disproportionate to the foul, seemed about to befall him, and the most passionate of his adult fans were ready to meet it in kind. They would boycott the bank and urge friends to withdraw their deposits. E-mail traffic in town raised a cry, “Leave Banjo Man alone!”

The role of Mediator Woman was assigned to Sara Daines, who, in her position with the City, deals both with entrepreneurial woes and artistic ones, and here the twain were joined.

As Sara began to investigate, though, the point of contention changed from children’s playthings to children’s safety, and negotiations took a serious turn.

Next to SunTrust Bank is a narrow alley through which vehicles must pass to enter or exit the market’s main parking lot. “There was a problem about pedestrians going out into the street to get by the children, but the real problem was the clearance between the children and the cars. They were only a few feet apart,” Sara says. “Maybe there would never be an accident, but maybe there would.”

Frank is a libertarian by nature and believes in the saying, “Extreme cases make bad law.” Nonetheless the heavy hand of liability law tends to trump all sayings. “For three years everyone had been safe, no close calls, and I definitely wasn’t happy about moving. But once I’d been warned I told Sara, ‘Okay, I’m not going to fight you,’” he says.
There remained the matter of a new location for the Banjo Man Revue, though. The best choice—the slightly wider section in front of the Post Office, whose official powers were not reproving of chalk—happened to be where the Jazzy Juggler performed simultaneous with Banjo Man. The Juggler, aka Nathan Bynum, was not enthused about moving either, but after more talks, verging on entreaties, he surrendered the Post Office in favor of the Flower Shop.

“I felt bad Nathan got caught in the whole mess,” Frank says. “We’re good friends. His nephew comes to my show, and my daughter goes to his.”

That set up the big test on the morning of June 10. How would everyone fare?

All seemed to go well, despite the lost-soul look on a few families who didn’t get the word and brought their bikes and tag-along buggies to the front of the bank and despite Banjo Man’s feeling of being hemmed in by market stalls at his new spot (he mixed a little “Salty Dog Blues” into the show).

The next morning Mediator Woman waited a bit nervously for e-mails or phone calls, but there was golden silence.

Adieu to “Rec man” Matt: Last link to days of yore

The deep tire ruts behind Piney Branch Elementary he shoveled back into alignment on his own time one Sunday morning to save a baseball tournament, the haunted houses he rigged upstairs at the old city hall to scare the bejeebers out of kids at Halloween, the painted circles on concrete where he taught shooters how to knock out mibs and thus established Takoma Park as one of the few extant marbles centers in the universe—such were the scenes recalled on the afternoon of June 10 for Matt Corley’s fare-thee-well picnic at Jequie Park.

After nearly 25 years as the most consistent public face of the Takoma Park Recreation Department, in a sort of Ghostbuster role (“Who you gonna call? Call Matt!”), he has left to pursue other options.

Photo:Julie Wiatt

Matt Corley with his wife, Kathy. Matt is a hometown boy with a legacy of community service.

The two recreation directors who worked the longest with Matt—the legendary Belle Ziegler, before whom there was no recreation department, and Sharon Ellis, an original Redskinette who succeeded Belle in the 1980s—were on hand to hark back to the olden days.

Belle, slightly unsteady on her feet, rested on a chair while Matt fixed her a paper plate of beans, chips, dog-in-a-bun and cake. “A lot of people had Matt’s home number,” said Belle. “They knew that whatever the problem was, day or night, he’d deal with it.” Matt has been a mainstay of the Fourth of July parade, which Belle, since her retirement, organizes each year as an unpaid volunteer. During Belle’s heyday at the department she relied heavily on volunteers, and Matt, then a teenager, was one of them.

Sharon, who put him on the full-time payroll, said, “Our goal back then was to know all the kids personally, which was always Matt’s strength. Even after the kids grew up, they’d stop in and holler at him.” She said she rarely visits Takoma Park anymore but had driven over from Easton, where she now does recreation, “to give Matt a special hug.”

Along with toasts and roasts, he also received a souvenir soccer shirt and a dousing with a big tin of water by prankster teenagers who wanted to cut down on the sentimentality.

A Fond Farewell

For several years Matt ran the adult co-ed softball league, which he started and which once featured teams of cops, firefighters and rec staffers as well as teams from local neighborhoods (WACO, Old Town, SS Carroll). In the late 1990’s, as youth sports came to the fore, he oversaw major upgrades of the fields at Takoma Park Middle and Piney Branch Elementary.

More recently he served as the deputy recreation director, but deskwork never seemed to suit him, and this spring he negotiated terms for his departure. “I have really mixed feelings,” he said, as a deejay played good-bye tunes and the sun dipped behind trees. “But at least I have good memories.” He busied himself carrying tables and chairs to the minivan of Ward Four council member Terry Seamens, who had brought his camcorder to tape the testimonials and had conducted spontaneous interviews of Belle and Sharon.

“That era is over,” Terry said. “Matt was the last one.” Terry handed the videotape, another souvenir, to Matt’s wife Kathy, a public school teacher. She had met Matt years ago when she, too, was a volunteer at the recreation department.

Deniz’s request: “It’s more personal”

Michelle Avant is so young, an expressive 44-year-old woman who used to light up the counter at Amano—that was part of it. The other part was more personal.

Michelle Avant

When Michelle’s daughter Melanie stopped by the Magic Carpet a few weeks ago to report that her mom had been diagnosed with cervical cancer the news struck hard at Deniz Kanter, the store’s fair-haired proprietor. Two summers ago Deniz’s mother, acclaimed as a poet of the year in Turkey, had received the identical diagnosis, and like that, within nine months, she was gone.

“Stage three cancer, same as my beautiful mom. It broke my heart. I was in tears,” Deniz says. “I asked Melanie, ‘What can I do?’”

Melanie looked lost, and Deniz impulsively pushed a 50-dollar bill into her hand. “I said, ‘I hope this doesn’t offend you.’ But it was the only thing I could think of, and I knew her mom doesn’t have much.”

In fact, Melanie was grateful. Her mother, another American without health insurance, was finding it difficult to pay for groceries.

Michelle, who had moved into the Takoma Park home of her brother, Stephen Rosenberg, underwent surgery soon after, but only a portion of the fast-spreading tumors could be liberated. On June 20 she began chemotherapy.

In the meantime, Deniz reached out to others to help pay for some of Michelle’s bills. “It’s not a big organized campaign. It’s more personal,” Deniz says. “I’m just asking, if you know me, or know her, or just want to give a little something, please do.”

Checks can be mailed in Stephen Rosenberg’s name to 7307 Maple Avenue, Takoma Park, Md. 20912.

Gardening “Coach” Susan hits media jackpot

Gardening Coach Susan Harris will help you save your garden,
and possibly your marriage

Anyone can be a gardener, and a few of us can be a gardening whiz or a gardening expert or a gardening advisor. But to be a gardening “coach” puts you in rare company.

You get to be chatted up by Rita Braver for the CBS Morning Show and get prominent mention in a New York Times feature article. At least that was the treatment given in June to Susan Harris, who is also a gardening writer (for the Voice, among other outlets) and who recently expanded her career into the realm of coach which, as she explains, can require a certain talent for psychotherapy.

The former president of the Takoma Park Horticultural Club, Susan has had to restore harmony between spouses when one wants to go native in the backyard and the other doesn’t and has had to help cut the ties between person and plant.

“It can be hard to chop down a bush that’s been nurtured for years and feels like part of the family,” she says. “But sometimes it has to be done.”

Comings & goings

After an eight-month sabbatical Dan Parr will go back to work in August on the senior staff of Tom Perez. The two Takoma Park political go-getters first hooked up in 2002 in the Montgomery County Council elections -- Tom as a winning candidate, Dan as his campaign manager—and Dan then did a four-year stint as Tom’s chief of staff. Last year Tom, with Dan at his side, attempted a statewide race for attorney general but was disqualified on technical grounds, leaving the careers of both men temporarily up in the air. Early this year Governor Martin O’Malley appointed Tom the Maryland secretary of labor, and now Dan has taken a job with Tom in Baltimore. “The commute will suck,” Dan says, “but I like the boss.”

“I have a hands-on approach, and I believe in the spirit of teamwork,” says Jason Bradford, the newly hired director of the Takoma Park/Silver Spring COOP. “At any given time you will find me on the floor greeting customers, straightening shelves and helping with whatever jobs need assistance.” Jason hails from the Ft. Worth-Dallas area where for the past 12 years he helped run two natural foods stores that have been in his family for three generations. He was selected by the COOP board after a national search. His wife Mika, a certified nutritionist, and their five children will join him here in a few months.

Jason Bradford, new Co-op honcho

Hard to predict the future for the Electrik Maid, a derelict storefront near the Takoma Metro that was restored to the standards of a punk-music venue (the D. C. scene) and a campaign headquarters (State Senator Jamie Raskin) but has now been further fixed up. On June 23 and again on June 30 the Electric Maid organizers held a two-day open house, with food and music, to usher in what they call a new definition for the place: “a third space—a non-governmental, non-commercial space for the community.”

Becca Feiden and Anna Szapiro last played softball together on the Blair team of 2004 when Becca was the senior captain and Anna was a freshman phenom. They became good friends when the older girl talked the younger one through a slump. “When Anna finally got a hit I swear there were tears in Becca’s eyes,” says Anna’s father, Ray Scannell. Next season they will be reunited. Becca is the captain of the team at Wesleyan (OH) College where Anna was recently accepted to play ball.

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