While I may be a lifelong resident of this great county, I am not a native Federalsburger. I saw little of this town when I was growing up; what I did see seemed dirty and undesirable. Moving here in the late nineties, my view didn’t take long to change. There was much here to like and thus I put down my roots. The places I grew up generally had woods for me to trounce through, so I had to find a substitute. The nearby Chambers Park proved worthy, and I set my footprints down upon its grounds 5-6 days a week. Being the type of person who is more comfortable in the past versus the present, I often find myself thinking of the birth of the park, on property donated by Mrs. Ada Chambers. You have to go back in time almost a hundred years: it was a proud time in the history of Federalsburg. Something new was popping up everywhere that you turned. A body could live a great life, cradle to grave, and never leave the city limits. I try to imagine what the folks back then would think if they saw what I do on a daily basis. How would the Federalsburg Times handle it? What point type would the headline be?

Walk through the park with me on a typical day, in between the picnic tables and playground equipment. If you’re half as clumsy as I, you’ll be looking down in a (sometimes vain) effort to keep from tripping. What will you see? Cigar wrappers. Take-out containers. Broken whiskey bottles. Used condoms. Not very long ago, right where toddlers play, two hypodermic needles. When the park was new, what would the women and men of this town have done? It would be a major scandal, and I picture citizens running the mayor, council and police chief out of town with pitchforks. But, it is 2023, and I suspect you’ve not read of any such drama in the Times-Record.

There are other, less intense, things that irk me regarding our park. My favorite section, largely forgotten, lies east of Liberty Road. Once, I read, families from around town each adopted a square and planted their own flower garden. The remnants of some remain, thanks to those seemingly everlasting bulbs. My favorite flower is the iris and some springs the overgrown back section is home to many patches. When in bloom I will wind my way through the tall grass and vines just to get a whiff and to take in the blessing. Along the way I’ve said hello to a box turtle and a rat snake. My hope had been that this particular section would be allowed to slowly reforest. I was disappointed one day last year to see tracks where a six-wheeler truck had driven through the center. Further investigation showed that public works had taken the annual collection of leaves from the populace and dumped them in the center of this pristine area. Now, this might have been sort-of okay. I would have greatly preferred that they just parked alongside this area and tossed the leaves in, rather than to drive. The real issue is that the citizenry (or at least many of them) disobeyed the rules and tossed other trash into the sacks. Thus, beer cans, soda bottles, old toys and other bric-a-brac littered the area. A friend of yours went in and cleaned it up one afternoon. It filled an extra-large trash bag to the point that it could barely be lifted without splitting open. Maybe a month later, another punch to my gut: the town had run a bush-hog through much of my favorite area. What of my flora, my pal the snake, my friend the turtle? Are they okay? Turtles from the nearby pond come up in that area to lay their eggs. One of those big creatures didn’t make it, the dismembered shell scattered about. Was it that tractor, or an ambitious fox? I really, really wish they hadn’t done that to “my” park.

A final complaint? A recently purchased 75 year old postcard confirmed what I have long already known: the park is much less wooded than it once was, and is growing more sparse with each passing year. It’s not that folks are going in and cutting down trees, but that through attrition they are slowly fading away. Several have tumbled down this year, while public works took down some smaller ones that I guess weren’t “convenient”. Sadly, it has been a long time since any have been planted…by humans. Oh, Mother Nature brings them up constantly. The grounds are covered in young oak, hickory, pine, persimmon, holly, and on and on. All will be cut down by the mowers blade. They could stake some off and let them grow. They could.

So, why am I writing this and placing it in the Caroline Review, rather than taking the matter up with the mayor and council? Well, I suppose they might think me some sort of crank. I’ve chatted with them before. I complained about the marijuana growing/processing facility being constructed adjacent to the park, within smelling distance of ball fields and swing sets and such. I was told, in short, that if there is ever a problem with the smell (or anything else) I can just take it up with the plant management because the town doesn’t care about anything but the tax money it will bring. I also brought up the fact that several lights are stuck on, out at the park, 24-7. They’ve remained on for many months.

At the last town meeting I attended, a new ordinance was being voted on. A number of us got up and spoke against it; we represented a variety of races, economic backgrounds and political beliefs, and in this era of supposed conflict, we all united against the measure. To which, the mayor and council proceeded to pass it unanimously and without comment. Based on this, and the fact that most of the town council never responds to my letters at all, I thought it time to try out the power of the press.

It’s not hard to go around picking up litter. I do it as much as my back will allow. It’s not hard to plant a tree, or to steer the mower around a sapling. What, I guess, does take a lot of energy: to care. To care enough to keep the trash, of all sorts, out of the park in the first place. Between the time I write this and the time you read this, there will be an election in this fair city. I’ve no idea who will get elected, but if you happen to have their ear, put in a word for Mrs. Chambers, won’t you?