Today marks the beginning of our 5th year of publishing Scenic 98 Coastal. It seems like yesterday that we started on this adventure. On April 14, 2022, we launched the first issue without a clear path to what this newsletter would become. “Your readers will let you know what they want,” we were advised. And that’s exactly what has happened. Baby steps.

The Shuck Cancer fundraiser held at Oak Hollow last Thursday had all the elements needed for a great party: beautiful weather, beautiful people, a plethora of local oysters, and bourbon! Oak Hollow in Fairhope is a perfect venue for an event such as this, as guests could stay outside sampling oysters under a huge tent or go inside in the barn, where live music, delicious food, and bourbon tastings were enjoyed. 

This past weekend, we planted our spring vegetable garden. It’s a fun activity to do with the kids. It’s one of those things that you hope teaches them something beyond just the surface level of digging holes, putting plants in them, watering, etc. Indeed, tending a vegetable garden is ripe (pun intended) with potential lessons about life, growth, and death, responsibility and caring for things, and fostering a connection with nature and the food we eat. This spring planting has me reminiscing about our last growing season. For which I will provide a brief recap.

One of the more interesting and entertaining documentaries I’ve watched is Commanding the Table. It is a 2016 film by Academy Award-nominated director Leslie Iwerks about the life and influence of New Orleans Restaurateur Ella Brennan. The film chronicles her role in revolutionizing Creole cuisine, creating the jazz brunch, and launching the careers of celebrity chefs like Paul Prudhomme and Emeril Lagasse.

Spring turkey hunters have long held themselves in high regard. They are considered (by themselves) to be cerebral, spiritual even, when it comes to their craft. They are the higher order of huntsmen, the gentle woodsmen. 

Speaking of birthdays, numbers have a way of creeping up on us. Friday, April 3, was my father’s birthday; born in 1925, he would have been 101. Born and raised in North Carolina, he met my mother at Duke University. He graduated with a degree in civil engineering in just three years after enlisting in the Navy’s accelerated commissioned officers program during WWII. He served as a captain of a converted PT boat assigned to rescue downed pilots in the Pacific Theater.