09.01.08

Sporting buttery leather boots that seem a tad handsome for farm chores, Ed Child makes his way down the path from the backyard, through the grape arbors and to the sheep pen. Five merino sheep greet him with gentle baaaas. They hope they’re in for a mid-morning snack. They settle for pats on their heads. “The brown ewe is especially affectionate,” says Barbara Child. “Her nose feels like velvet.” Barbara is bent over double, deadheading in her perennial garden.

Shelley Christiansen

09.01.08

It is seven o’clock on a Monday, a time when most Vineyarders are settling in for the night. Few drivers are out and the lights in the houses that line the roads are on. Parents have returned from work, children from school, and together they gather around the table for dinner.

Julia Rappaport

08.01.08

Henry Louis Gates Jr., known as “Skip,” is a professor at Harvard University, where he is also the director of the W.E.B. Du Bois Institute for African and African American Research. A prolific writer, editor, and film producer, he has received numerous awards and honors throughout his career, including a John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation “Genius Grant,” a National Humanities Medal, and nearly fifty honorary degrees from institutes for higher education.

Laura D. Roosevelt

08.01.08

The late summer sun beat down on us and we halted at the fork in the road. The prissy stroller that we were pushing our two-year-old daughter in was no match for the ragged terrain that lay ahead. We had not seen another human being since we left the ferry more than a mile back, and our water and snack supply was meager. The smell of failure hung in the air.

Ellen Willson Hoover

08.01.08

In the 1950s and ’60s, Chappaquiddick was considered the backyard of Edgartown. Not many people had heard of it – before Kennedy – and the summer population was small, including a few extended families. My family spent summers here, along with about fifty relatives in seven or eight houses scattered across the island. People knew each other, and most kids could roam wherever they wanted as long as they came home at the end of the day.

Margaret Knight

07.01.08

When Jimmy Morgan was a little boy growing up in Menemsha, he would climb aboard an old Noman’s Land boat left on a salt marsh and imagine he was a grown-up fisherman hauling in fish. And he carved a fishing boat from a two-by-four and would take it down to the harbor and proudly set it out on the water so it could go on fishing expeditions.

When he was only twelve, he went on his first real fishing trip. That was with Captain Donald L. Poole. They went out after swordfish on the Dorothy C.

Phyllis Meras

07.01.08

April is here, yet North Road in Chilmark has barely gotten the memo. The Menemsha Inn will open for business next weekend, but for now, the grounds remain ghostly and still, save for the dune grasses quivering in a breeze off the Sound. The breeze picks up the warm aroma of something cooking with curry.

Shelley Christiansen

07.01.08

Andrew Lefkowits ran onto the Tabernacle stage through the rear door six minutes into the Vineyard Sound reunion concert wearing shorts, a yellow button-down shirt, an overnight beard, and a backpack hooked on his shoulder. From the audience, you could see him crouch a bit as he darted along the back wall to a wooden chair just left of center stage.

Tom Dunlop

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