Category Archives: Looking back

Time For A Mystery

Over a year ago — as Max’s Art Supplies was ready to close, and everything inside was for sale — I posted a story.

Miggs Burroughs wanted the iconic Karron’s Jewelry clock. Rescued once from another Westport store, it had served for years as a symbol of the famed art store.

He was a minute late. Sherri Wolfgang — a close friend — had already bought it. She told Miggs she’d wanted it since she was 8 years old, and bought her first sketch pad at Max’s.

At least Miggs got this memorable photo:

Max's famous Karron's clock with (from left) Nina Royce, Rita Ross Englebardt, Sherri Wolfgang, Shirley Mellor and Jay Cimbak.

Max’s famous Karron’s clock with (from left) Nina Royce, Rita Ross Englebardt, Sherri Wolfgang, Shirley Mellor and Jay Cimbak.

After staying in one spot for decades, the clock has now taken on a life of its own.

The other day, Ron Hofaker emailed me. He is not an alert “06880” reader. The only reason he knows about this blog is because — well, let him tell it:

Recently a friend called me at home in Hannacroix, New York. He said he was at a sale in Pleasant Valley, New York. I have been in the market for vintage midget race car parts. He believed he had found some.

He hadn’t. Not wanting to leave empty-handed after my hour-plus drive, I spotted a clock in the kitchen. After a bit of negotiation I purchased it.

Curious about its origin, I googled the name and found your site. Wish I had more to tell you about it.

Ron sent a photo. It sure looks like the same clock:

Karron's clock

It has no sentimental value for Ron . He’s offering it to any Westporter (or former resident) who wants it.

If you’re interested, email me:

But Miggs gets first dibs.

Helium Brothers Land In Westport

Toad’s Place may be Connecticut’s favorite indoor music venue.

But that’s New Haven. Westport once had live music too. Anyone living here in the 1970s and early ’80s remembers 3 great spots: Grassroots. Players Tavern. Tin Whistle.

Each was different. Grassroots was a folk-oriented coffee house next to National Hall (then Fairfield Furniture), on the Post Road just over the river.

Players Tavern was a rockin’ place, with great bands and a less-than-observant attitude toward things like legal IDs.

Tin Whistle was a restaurant/bar (now the site of Westport Hardware Mumbai Times), with a variety of music.

This undated menu from Players Tavern mentions upcoming gigs by Papa John Creach, James Montgomery, Pat Metheny , James Cotton, Gil Scot Heron, Dave Edmonds, Nick Lowe -- and the Helium Brothers.

This undated menu from Players Tavern mentions upcoming gigs by Papa John Creach, James Montgomery, Pat Metheny , James Cotton, Gil Scot Heron, Dave Edmonds, Nick Lowe — and the Helium Brothers. (Click on or hover over to enlarge.)

Nowadays, you can hear live music on Bobby Q’s roof (in summer), the Black Duck (occasionally), and the Levitt Pavilion (but that’s not the same).

And, from time to time, at places like the Unitarian Church.

Every so often, they sponsor the Voices Cafe coffeehouse. There’s one this Saturday (November 14, 8 p.m.). What makes it “06880”-worthy is that the headline act is the Helium Brothers.

Thejazz/bluegrass/country/rock group has been around for 40 years. Recently, they performed a reunion show at Toad’s Place.

But they’re no strangers to Westport. Back in the day, they opened for former resident Johnny Winter.

And they performed regularly at — yes — Grassroots, Players Tavern and Tin Whistle.

Whatever goes around, comes around.

Even if it’s helium, brother.

Helium Brothers

These Old Houses Earn Historic Honors

Just when you think every old house in Westport has been sacrificed to the teardown gods, you hear this:

The Westport Historical Society recently awarded its 300th house plaque.

And you realize sometimes there is hope.

The WHS historical home plaque program began in 1978. It’s a way for homeowners to honor the heritage of their house (and town). Plaques identify the original owner, and date of construction.

They’re available (for a $300 donation) for any house at least 100 years old; any house within a local historic district (regardless of age), and houses less than a century old if either a special event occurred there, a prominent person lived in it, or it was designed by a noted architect.

53 plaques honor homes that are more than 200 years old. The 1st one dates to the 1680s, marking a structure built by John Osborn. The newest is on a 1941 house owned by famous jazz pianist, lecturer and critic John Mehegan.

The most recent plaque — #300 — goes to an 1803 home at 268 Wilton Road. In 2014 that house was featured on “06880,” as an example of renovation rather than demolition.

Presenting the 300th historical house plaque are (from left): builder Peter Greenberg, Westport Historical Society president Ed Gerber and WHS house historian Bob Weingarten. (Photo/Laurence Untermeyer)

Presenting the 300th historical house plaque are (from left): builder Peter Greenberg, Westport Historical Society president Ed Gerber and WHS house historian Bob Weingarten. (Photo/Larry Untermeyer)

The awarding of that plaque coincides with the opening next Sunday (November 8, 3 p.m.) of a special WHS exhibit. “Window to Westport’s Past and Present: WPA Images of Historic Houses” is a collection of 131 photographs of local homes. Taken in 1935 — during the depth of the Great Depression — they were largely the work of WPA photogapher (and Westport resident) T. O’Conor Sloane.

The WHS show pairs those photos with current images of the same houses. Most were taken by WHS house historian Bob Weingarten.

If the concept sounds familiar: It is. Last spring, “06880” ran a weekly series — “This Old House” — in which readers helped identify some of the structures that are now part of the exhibit.

268 Wilton Road in a 1935 WPA photograph...

268 Wilton Road in a 1935 WPA photograph…

The featured photographs portray a wide range of Westport history. There’s the Kings Highway North residence of Pulitzer Prize winner Van Wyck Brooks, and that of George Hand Wright, a founder of our “arts colony.”

The former homes of Paul Newman and Martha Stewart were photographed for the WPA project — decades before their later owners became famous.

One of the show’s crown jewels is the Wynkoops’ Long Lots Road home. Dating to the mid-1680s, it’s considered Westport’s oldest structure. And yes, 268 Wilton Road — the one with the 300th historical plaque — is in the exhibit too.

So, of course, is 268 Wilton Road — lovingly preserved, restored and renovated (and moved back from the busy street) by Able Construction partner Peter Greenberg.

...and the same home today.

…and the same home today. (Photo/Larry Untermeyer)

There’s much more on the walls of the Westport Historical Society — fittingly, one of Westport’s most treasured old homes itself. As a plaque near the door proudly notes, Bradley-Wheeler House was built in 1795, and remodeled in 1867.

(The Westport Historical Society exhibit opens with a reception this Sunday, November 8, 3-5 p.m. It runs through March 26. For more information, click here.)

Remembering Gerry Gross

We remember mid-2oth century  Westport as an artists’ colony. We recall the many “Mad Men” advertising executives who lived here too.

But Westport was also home to movers and shakers in the publishing world. Last week, the New York Times ran an obituary of one of the most remarkable of all.

Gerald Gross died earlier this month of bladder cancer. He was 94.

The longtime book editor “was instrumental in bringing the memoirs of Adolf Hitler’s close associate Albert Speer to an English-speaking readership,” Bruce Weber wrote.

Gross — who had already won National Book Awards as a Harcourt Brace editor — was in the top ranks at Macmillan in 1968. Though he was Jewish — and had flown bombing missions over Germany during  World War II — Gross “developed a collegial relationship if not a friendship” with  Speer, Hitler’s minister of armaments who during 20 years in prison surreptitiously wrote notes for what later became 2 best-selling memoirs.

Gerry Gross with his daughter Sarah and son Adam (left), and other family members earlier this month, at his 94th birthday.

Gerry Gross with his daughter Sarah and son Adam (left), and other family members earlier this month, at his 94th birthday.

Gross worked on contracts for the books, and with translators to edit them.

Speer later called his collaboration with Gross “one of the wonderful experiences of my life.”

Gross’ son Adam — a 1973 graduate of Staples High School, and now a noted architect — told the Times that his father felt “conflicted.”

“As a publisher he thought it was an important book, and I think he saw it as an obligation to have this guy tell his story.”

Gerry Gross said in 2005 that for “the sake of my own conscience in working with Speer,” he told the former Nazi to send his American royalties to a refugee aid group.

Gross — a Jersey City native who got married the day after Pearl Harbor, and enlisted in the Army Air Forces the day after that — first came to Westport in 1950. He and his wife Flora rented a summer cottage on the Saugatuck River. Boarders included Robert Penn Warren, who sat in their little cabin and wrote while Gross was in the city.

Gerry and Flora moved to Weston full time when their daughter Sarah was born in 1952. The house they bought on Godfrey Road was lived in earlier by Burl Ives, then sailing dinghy racer and designer Sandy Douglass.

The  Grosses moved to a farmhouse on Greens Farms Road in 1962, and were part of a wide circle of artist and writer friends.

Gerry Gross with Herb and Lou Barrett

The Grosses (right) with longtime Westport friends, Herb and Lou Barrett.

In the late 1960s Flora opened the Illustrators Gallery on Main Street. She later became director of the American Institute for Graphic Arts in New York.

In 1976 the couple relocated to Boston, where Gerry became vice president for the arts, publications and media at Boston University. He helped found and run the Huntington Theater Company there.

They kept their Westport home, renting it out and intending to retire here. They moved back in 1996, but could not stay long because of Flora’s Parkinson’s. In 1998 they moved to Baltimore, to be near Adam’s family.

His wife died 10 years ago. Now Gerry Gross — one of the last living links to one of World War II’s vilest men — is gone too.

Gerry and Flora Gross with their children, Sarah and Adam, around 1970.

Gerry and Flora Gross with their children, Sarah and Adam, around 1970.

A Teacher’s Influence Lingers, Half A Century On

Josh Markel is one of those long-ago Westporters who still retains a love for this town (and who reads “06880,” for its blend of yesterday and today).

Josh sent along this story. On one level, it’s about a teacher he remembers fondly, from the late 1950s.

On another level though, it’s a paean to educators everywhere. They may not remember every student — but their life lessons linger decades after their classroom lessons are done.


I hit Long Lots Junior High around 1959. Scott Wright (his real 1st name was Guyer) was the art teacher. He had a profound effect on my development, and I think with others as well. He had a great talent for connecting with kids who weren’t successful in the traditional academic manner. And he was far more than just a successful art teacher.

I would hang out in his room after school, waiting for the late bus. Other kids did too.

Long Lots, back when it was junior high.

Long Lots, back when it was a junior high.

As an example of his unconventional approach, he sponsored 3 competitions for different types of art work, which were shown at Long Lots. Early on (compared to the rest of the world) he saw the value in film as an art form. One of his competitions was a scenario for a short film, which he paid to produce in 8 mm.

It was won by Zazel Wilde, who also spent time in his room after school. Hers was about 3 crises that send a kid over the edge. Very sturm und drang adolescent stuff. Zazel later became a model, and appeared on the back of the Doors’ “Strange Days” album.

Zazel Wilde (left) on the back of the Doors'

Zazel Wilde (left) on the back of “Strange Days.”

Wright also sponsored competitions to design an outdoor sculpture, and a large mural to be affixed to the side of the school. They were fabricated by students, at his expense. Apparently he had a small inheritance which I found out about when I, quite inappropriately, asked him how he could afford a Porsche on a teacher’s salary.

His dedication to the art world went beyond that of a teacher. He put out an irregularly published magazine, “The Palette,” that solicited comments from well-known world figures on the importance of art. He got statements from amazing people, including Winston Churchill. I recently saw Wright’s correspondence and responses, including hand-written signatures, for sale on the internet for $12,000.

In class he tried to make kids aware that art originally was thought to have magical powers. For a project to make an image of something we wished for, he played Bo Diddley for us (showing music as art imbued with magical force) — far out for a teacher in those days.

Scott Wright taught about Bo Diddley, and corresponded with Winston Churchill. This may be the 1st time the 2 men have ever appeared in the same photo collage.

Scott Wright taught about Bo Diddley, and corresponded with Winston Churchill. This may be the 1st time the 2 men have ever appeared in the same photo collage.

Once, he assigned us a project of designing a getaway house for ourselves. I came up with a boring rectangular plan. He showed me what Mies van der Rohe had done with a rectangle in his famous Barcelona pavilion.  That sparked my life-long connection to architecture and design.

The potential for creativity in architecture was underscored when he showed me the house he designed for himself in Weston or Wilton. It was a modern home with a boulder built into the living room.

Wright furthered my interest in cars, racing and automotive design by taking me to my 1st sports car race at Lime Rock, upstate. My wife still suffers under the weight of all the car magazines in our house.

Despite Sputnik's success, Scott Wright believed in the importance of arts education.

Despite Sputnik’s success, Scott Wright believed in the importance of arts education.

Wright also authored an article for Saturday Review about the importance of art education, when the rest of the world was exercised about science education in the wake of Sputnik.

Long before the light shows of the ’60s, he fabricated a device that projected random light effects on a frosted, TV-like screen. He told me of Russian composer Scriabin’s experiments with compositions that combined light and sound.

Wright was on fire. I would love to know more about him, and what happened to  him.

“06880” readers: Do you remember Scott Wright? Click “Comments” below. And if you don’t, feel free to add your thoughts about the influential teachers in your lives.

Werner Liepolt’s Ghoulish Halloween Rediscovery

In 1972, Werner Liepolt was a Bedford Junior High School English teacher. Today, as Halloween approaches, is a good time to remember those long-ago days.

Fellow Annenberg School of Communications graduate Christopher Speeth had secured a soon-to-be-demolished amusement park as a set, raised enough money to rent a 35mm camera and hired some actors. Knowing of Liepolt’s off-Broadway credits, he asked him to write a horror movie.

Werner Liepolt, back in the day.

Werner Liepolt, back in the day.

Liepolt told his 9th graders about his script. It involved a carnival that consumed its customers. He tested scenes on them, and revised it based on their reactions.

“My students were my idea of a perfect horror movie audience,” Liepolt recalls. “They were impeccable critics of the macabre.” The film that emerged was “Malatesta’s Carnival of Blood.”

It was released for a limited run at Texas drive-ins. Liepolt saw it at one screening. His students never did. The movie disappeared.

A former student managed a seafood restaurant and store. For years, every time Liepolt bought shellfish or went to dinner, he asked about the film. The teacher never had any news. But “his faith in it convinced me of its worth,” Liepolt says.

Four decades later — in 2003 — others realized that worth too. Speeth dug the movie out, sent it to Lucas and Coppola’s Zoetrope Studios, and convinced them to remaster it.

In 2007 British horror film aficionado Stephen Thrower saw a screening. He gave Speeth and Liepolt’s work a chapter in his acclaimed, encyclopedic “Nightmare USA.”

Malatestas Carnival of Blood

Word spread. Amazon sold copies of the DVD.

Liepolt’s son Jamie and some classmates at College of the Atlantic unearthed it, and screened it. He alerted his dad that “Malatesta’s Carnival of Blood” was alive. (Or, Liepolt notes, “had joined the ranks of the walking dead”).

Last month, Arrow Films — which negotiated the rights to redistribute the film — asked Liepolt for an interview. A crew from LA arrived at his Westport home several days ago. They’ll use 40 minutes as part of a DVD bonus package.

“I was as surprised as they were that I remembered so much about the writing and the shoot,” Liepolt says. They may even include a digital copy of the shooting script that he preserved.

Werner Liepolt today.

Werner Liepolt today.

Liepolt also provided Arrow with photos of actors he recruited for the film. Herve Villechaize — famous for his roles in a Bond film and the “Fantasy Island” TV series — began his theatrical career in Leipolt’s American Place Theater production of “The Young Master Dante.” He said he wanted — theatrically — to commit a murder in a certain gruesome way. Liepolt obliged.

The writer also recruited Lenny Baker, who went on to headline on Broadway (“I Love My Wife”) and starred in films (“Last Stop Greenwich Village”).

“That ‘Malatesta’ emerged from the crypt astonishes me,” Liepolt says. Thrower is not surprised, though. He said it “more than deserves a spell in the cult spotlight.”

There is a Facebook page for the film, so Liepolt’s 9th graders from the 1970s can finally track down and see the film they heard about 40 years ago. There’s also a website, and Arrow promises a number of promotions.

“It’s amazing fun that people are enjoying what I helped create so long ago,” Liepolt says. “What makes me sad, though, is that there are so few remaining who helped create the film.”

Halloween is here soon. What better way to get in the mood than a screening of Werner Liepolt’s great — and now rediscovered — ghoulish cult classic?

108 Cross Highway: Preserving History, Preventing A Teardown

In June 2011, 108 Cross Highway came on the market. From all indications, it would be the next Westport teardown.

An uproar ensued. The 2-story “vernacular” — with a barn — on the well-traveled stretch between Roseville Road and North Avenue was built in 1805. Records indicated it was one of the few Westport dwellings constructed by a “free black man.”

(That assertion was later challenged. The “Henry Munroe House” may, in fact, have been built by an Indian.)

108 Cross Highway

108 Cross Highway in 2011.

The usual Westport battle raged. On one side were those decrying the destruction of a handsome old home — one with historic significance.

On the other side were those who say that property owners are free to do whatever they want. After all, it’s their money.

The house was taken off the market, rented, then put back on. Jeff Porter and Rachel Ember had been thinking of contemporaries. But when realtor Amy Swanson showed them 108 Cross Highway, they fell in love.

They closed on the property in January 2014.

Nearly 2 years later, the house still stands. The new owners have redone the porch, repaired the chimney, added a paddock fence, restored and refinished the original wood floors, and remodeled the side entry and kitchen in a style appropriate to the home (sourcing reclaimed barn wood).

They also repaired the barn’s rotted siding, and reconfigured the garage doors in a more traditional carriage style.

Today, 108 Cross Highway looks better than ever.

Rear view of 108 Cross Highway, showing a new fence, walkway and covered porch.

Rear view of 108 Cross Highway, showing a new fence, walkway and covered porch.

In fact, it’s one of this year’s recipients of a Preservation Award from the Westport Historic District Commission.

The barn and pool.

The barn and pool.

Too often in Westport, structures like these fall victim to the wrecking ball. We close our eyes, wring our hands, and move on.

The next time you pass 108 Cross Highway, open your eyes wide. Put your hands together, and linger awhile. It’s a wonderful sight to see.

108 Cross Highway, today.

108 Cross Highway, today.

The kitchen, with reclaimed barn wood flooring.

The kitchen, with reclaimed barn wood flooring.

(The 2015 Historic Preservation Awards will be presented by 1st Selectman Jim Marpe, Historic District Commission chair Francis Henkels and commission members on Monday, October 26, 7 p.m. in the Town Hall auditorium.)


Mike Goss Covers Westport

You can’t judge a book by its cover. But you can sure judge Westport by its New Yorker covers. Also by the 20 photos of the exact spots depicted on those covers, taken lovingly by Mike Goss and exhibited now, side by side, at the Westport Historical Society.

The photographic reproductions are astonishingly well done. They’re taken in the same season the covers were painted or sketched, at the same time of day and in the same light. The moods of each image and painting match. Taken together, they show Westport — then and now — in all its gorgeous, small town, maritime, bustling, artsy glory.

What is particularly remarkable is that Goss came late to the craft of photography. And the exhibit itself was designed long after “The New Yorker in Westport” — the wonderful book by Eve Potts and Andrew Bentley — was in proofs. It shows 50 full-size covers of Westport scenes, by artists like Charles Addams, Perry Barlow, Whitney Darrow, Jr., Albert Hubbell, Garrett Price and Charles Saxon.

Mike Goss, on the other side of the camera.

Mike Goss, on the other side of the camera. (Photo/Helen Klisser During)

Goss spent his professional career as a financial executive. After retiring in 2013, he took a few classes in one of his hobbies: photography.

Bentley — who had already written his “New Yorker” book — asked his friend Goss to take a few promotional photos.

Bentley liked what he saw. Goss took more. He showed nearly 2 dozen to the Westport Historical Society, and the Westport Arts Center’s Helen Klisser During. An exhibit was born.

Taking those photos was far harder than point-and-shoot. Each cover showed a different season. Goss created a spreadsheet, so he could take each image at the right moment. He tried to mimic the covers as much as possible, including light, color, even blurred lines.

His first photo, of Round Pond in the snow, was shot last February. Others had to wait for summer. “I drove by the beach for weeks, waiting for a lifeguard chair to appear,” Goss recalls, of another memorable cover.

Round Pond -- then and now. (Photo/Copyright Mike Goss)

Round Pond — then and now. (Photo/Copyright Mike Goss)

There were other challenges too.

“Artists can take licenses with their paintings,” he notes. “They can move buildings around, and eliminate overhead wires.”

A photographer can’t do that. As a result, he says, “some photos are not as bucolic as the covers.”

Some of the artwork was “cartoon-y,” Goss adds. A 1955 magazine cover showing construction of the Connecticut Turnpike showed a beautiful tree-lined street on one side, with steam shovels digging in a straight line on the other.

He spent hours trying to find attractive lines, before ending up one night on an I-95 overpass. That photo did not make it into the main exhibit. It’s shown instead in a side exhibit, “The Cutting Room Floor,” alongside other images that did not quite work.

The Bridge Street Bridge was a favorite spot in 19xx. It remains an icon today. (Photo/Copyright Mike Goss)

The Bridge Street Bridge was a favorite spot in 1954. It remains an icon today. (Photo/Copyright Mike Goss)

Others work fantastically. Goss loves his Round Pond shot, tinted blue and with the sun shining through trees. He’s also very proud of the deli counter at Oscar’s. Those 2 could stand on their own, he says.

Others would not. A dark picture of the train station is “ugly” — just like the original cover. Yet “complementing each other, they’re very interesting.”

The entire process taught Goss the value of a collection. “If we just did one cover, it might not have been interesting. But when you put them all together, you get a real sense of what Westport is all about.”

There’s a certain sense of history — but also timelessness — at the Historical Society exhibit. The bunting in Goss’ photo of the Westport Country Playhouse balcony matches Helen Hokinson’s 1936 painting almost exactly. The rafters and balustrade are almost identical too.

The Westport Country Playhouse -- yesterday and today. (Photo/Copyright Mike Goss)

The Westport Country Playhouse — yesterday and today. (Photo/Copyright Mike Goss)

Another strong image is of the railroad tracks in Saugatuck. A 1963 cover captures the beauty, in a strong black and blue painting. Goss does the same.

Just as there is whimsy in New Yorker covers, some photos elicit smiles. Next to 1961 artwork of children reading comics on a green Sunday morning, Goss captured his own kids in the same sort of setting — reading iPads.

Goss spent 6 months on this project, and took thousands of photos. You can see them at the Westport Historical Society through October 26 (weekdays 10 a.m.-4 p.m.; Saturdays 12-4 p.m.).

They’ll also live forever on his website:

(Interested in the “New Yorker in Westport” book? Thanks to the generosity of Andy and Fiona Bentley and the Potts Book Fund, every cent of the $40 cover price goes directly to the Historical Society. Click here to order.)

The cover of Eve Potts and Andrew Bentley's book.

The cover of Eve Potts and Andrew Bentley’s book.

Remember The Reverbs?

Plenty of Westporters remember the Remains. Their lead singer and keyboardist were from Westport. They toured with the Beatles. They were on track to be America’s best rock ‘n’ roll band — until they broke up.

Not many Westporters — perhaps none? — remember the Reverbs. I’m pretty good with local rock trivia, but I’ve never heard of these guys.

The Reverbs’ guitarists were Larry Didona, Ken Josselyn and Bob Erisman. Fred Erisman was on drums; Gerry Lenore sang lead.

Apparently they cut a record — a big deal in those days — in November 1965. Like many local groups, they were a cover band. Among the songs: “Twist and Shout,” “Hang on Sloopy,” “Get Off My Cloud,” “Money,” and (of course) “Louie Louie.”


The only way I know of the Reverbs is because alert “06880” reader Chip Stephens sent me a link to eBay.

“The Reverbs Chalk-Up” album is still available — but act now! Bidding ends on Tuesday at 9:10 p.m.

Last I saw, the highest bid — of 2 — was $10.50.

I’m sure there’s at least one Reverbs fan here who can top that.

Kevin O’Brien Returns To Westport Pizzeria

As promised this morning, Kevin O’Brien — the once-homeless Westport teenager who turned his life around — came back to town today.

One of his dreams was to visit Westport Pizzeria. As noted in an “06880” post earlier this month, Kevin once subsisted on 25-cent slices, not far from “Needle Park” where he spent his nights.

A couple of years ago the pizzeria moved around the corner, from Main Street to the Post Road. But the slices taste the same. And this afternoon, owner Mel Mioli was there to greet Kevin.

Kevin O'Brien (left) and Westport Pizzeria owner Mel Mioli. (Photo/Jack Whittle)

Kevin O’Brien (left) and Westport Pizzeria owner Mel Mioli. (Photo/Jack Whittle)

Kevin is no longer homeless. He’ll spend tonight at the home of an “06880” reader, who reached out to him after reading his story.

Westport has changed a great deal since 1970, when Kevin was a kid.

Some of those changes are great. Others — not so much.

But we’re still a place that draws folks back. And once they’re here, it’s nice to know we still draw them close in.