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The governor declared a state of emergency and a search-and-rescue operation is underway after Baltimore’s Francis Scott Key Bridge collapsed overnight as a result of a ship strike.

As of 10 a.m. on Tuesday, March 26:

• Search and rescue is still underway in water
• Officials confirmed six people are still unaccounted and two people have been rescued
• Preliminary investigation shows this was an accident
• Gov. Wes Moore said the crew on the ship notified authorities that they had lost power.
• Moore said between a mayday call and the collapse, officials stopped the flow of traffic so that more cars were not on the bridge, potentially saving lives.
• Collapse reported around 1:30 a.m. Tuesday
• Gov. Wes Moore declared a state of emergency
• Baltimore Beltway\I-695 closed from Glen Burnie to Dundalk (traffic map here)

“Our response teams are doing everything in our power to rescue and recover the victims of this as we speak,” Gov. Wes Moore said. “People right not are working to save lives.”

Maryland Secretary of Transportation Paul J. Wiedefeld confirmed there was a crew working on the bridge at the time of the collapse.

“At this time this is an active search and rescue mission. We know there were individuals on the bridge at the time of the collapse working on the bridge, contractors for us,” Wiedefeld said.

The collapse was reported around 1:30 a.m. Tuesday. The 1.6-mile bridge carried the Baltimore Beltway\Interstate 695 over the Patapsco River.

SkyTeam 11, Baltimore’s only news helicopter, reported the portion of the bridge that collapsed was the steel superstructure and that the concrete bridge appeared to remain intact.

“This is an unthinkable tragedy,” Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott said at a news conference early Tuesday morning. “This is a tragedy you can never imagine. Never did you think you would see the Key Bridge tumble down like that. It looked like something out of a movie …Our focus should be the preservation of life.”

Mayor Brandon M. Scott has issued an Executive Order declaring a State of Emergency in Baltimore City in response to the collapse starting at 9 a.m. and will remain in place for thirty days.

“We all awoke this morning to an unspeakable tragedy,” Baltimore County Executive Johnny Olszewski said at a news conference early Tuesday morning. “We have a long road ahead not just in the search and rescue but in the fallout after this.”

For more breaking updates on the search for survivors, statements from officials, and changing traffic patterns reported by our WBAL partners, visit wbaltv.com

On Feb. 13, a snowy afternoon in Manhattan, Baltimore-born designer Bishme Cromartie debuted his fall/winter 2024 collection at New York Fashion Week. In lieu of a traditional runway show, the Project Runway alum presented the new pieces simultaneously—against the backdrop of draped white linens and the soundtrack of high-energy club music in one of the ballrooms at The Ritz-Carlton, Nomad.

The format allowed press, photographers, and other industry pros to deeply study the 20 looks that further Cromartie’s love of fusing streetwear with the avant-garde. Inspired by The Matrix, the black, white, and red collection incorporates everything from edgy jackets and cargos to show-stopping ruffled and draped gowns. As Cromartie puts it: “The collection is intended to be strong, effortlessly sexy, and both masculine and feminine at the same time.”

In the show’s program, the East Baltimore native who attended Hamilton’s Reginald F. Lewis High School thanked his mom and his late sister, Chimere, who passed away from cancer shortly before Cromartie reported to compete on—and eventually win—Project Runway: All Stars last year.

“I’m just thankful,” Cromartie told us in an interview after his win. “I’m thankful I am who I am because of the people that I have been fortunate enough to surround myself with. I’m thankful for this journey. And I’m thankful that I’ll be able to inspire other people.”

[Editor’s Note: 2/7/2024: This 2004 piece by then-contributing writer Jim Duffy ran in our February issue 20 years ago this month. We re-share it today in commemoration of the 120th anniversary of the Great Baltimore Fire—a “blaze for the ages” that obliterated 86 city blocks, consumed 1,526 buildings, and killed five Baltimoreans.] 

It’s hard to believe that H.L. Mencken could sum the scene up in six words, but there you have it: “The burned area looked like Pompeii.”

Strange, isn’t it, how hard it is to find your bearings in the vast, frozen rubble? What corner is that? Which way is the camera pointed? Wait…yes…there’s the City Hall dome!

A century ago this month, Downtown Baltimore went up in flames. No one knows how the blaze started, though all the experts seem content enough with a piece of pure conjecture about a carelessly flicked cigar passing through a window into the basement of the Hurst building that stood on Hopkins Place, where the Baltimore Arena is today.

Historians are on firmer ground when they rank the resulting conflagration as a city-defining moment, one on a par with the defense of Fort McHenry in 1814, and the 1833 founding of the B&O Railroad. The fire raged for two days, February 7 and 8, a Sunday and a Monday. Stiff, shifting winds pushed the blaze north, then east along a clockwise arc and kept firefighters constantly on their heels.

The Baltimore Sun, Feb. 8, 1904: “There is little doubt that many men, formerly prosperous, will be ruined by the events of the past 24 hours…Many of the spectators saw it all go up in flames before their eyes, and there were men with hopeless faces and despairing expressions seen on every hand. In fact, the throng seemed stunned with the magnitude of the disaster and scarcely seemed to recognize the extent of it.”

It’s still hard to fathom the extent of it. On the one hand, only one person died in the blaze (with four more succumbing later to fire-related causes). On the other hand, the fire obliterated 86 city blocks, consuming 1,526 buildings that housed 2,500 businesses. It was, without a doubt, a blaze for the ages: not as big as the legendary 1871 Chicago fire, but a lot bigger than the famed 1872 Boston fire.

In the old pictures, a few human figures stand amid the ruins. But they’re distant, recognizable now more as types than as individuals—soot-covered immigrant, stoic businessman, grim civic leader, drained firefighter. This being a city (then and now) flush with coincidental small-town connections, it’s natural to take an elongated look, wondering whether any of those lives brushed up against yours over the generations.

Perhaps that immigrant was one of your great-grandfather’s shot-and-a-beer buddies. Perhaps that firefighter started a family tradition that reaches the fourth-generation firefighter in the rowhouse next door. Perhaps that well-dressed man’s name ended up on your business card—the old newspaper clippings are chock full of Venables, Marburys, and Semmeses.

Eventually, the wandering mind makes its way back to the point: What was it like to watch the city burn?

The Baltimore American, Feb. 8, 1904: The Maryland, a lunch room, “was brilliantly lighted and patronized by men of grime and of worry…[W]hile they dined a stringed orchestra played beautifully. Soon the rain of sparks in the street made the young lady waitresses nervous, but the leader of the band and his men kept on, oblivious to all except the time and the tune. Then the general cry for retreat went up and, seizing the cash register and a few valuables, all rushed to the open air and safety.”

Some people credit divine intervention for staving off an even more monumental catastrophe. Fervent prayers issued from St. Leo’s Church found answer when the blaze failed to jump the Jones Falls and ravage Little Italy. Others speculate about a more devilish force, noting that the fire backed off on the brink of consuming the old Monumental Burlesque House.

The Baltimore American, Feb. 10, 1904: “Yesterday, however, it was but a smoldering mass of ruins, with no element of danger of further spread. This brought a feeling of indescribable relief to everyone, and the representatives of the commercial, financial, and manufacturing life of Baltimore were free to turn their minds to thoughts of the future.”

The Baltimore Sun, Feb. 8, 1904: “There is little doubt that many men, formerly prosperous, will be ruined by the events of the past 24 hours…Many saw their all go up in flames before their eyes…The throng seemed stunned with the magnitude of the disaster.”

There are many fine ways to mark the centennial of an event so seminal to this city. Some will chase the fire’s mysterious origins. Some will mourn lost architectural gems. Some will relish the heroics of firefighters (and their horse-drawn equipment). The exhibits, tours, and lectures planned around town for the months ahead promise something for every interest.

My own interest is focused on what happened after the fire. Perhaps that’s because there are echoes of current events at New York City’s Ground Zero in the story of the rebuilding of Baltimore. Everybody back then was stunned to find that “fireproof” buildings were nothing of the sort. Crews clearing the rubble worried that post-fire dust would be the respiratory death of them. Rebuilding plans and proposed memorials stirred passionate debates.

The rebuilding story also speaks to current events close to home. A century after the fire, Baltimore once again finds herself about the hard work of raising a new city. Look at the west side of downtown, where the new Hippodrome opens this month. Look at Inner Harbor East, on its way to becoming a little downtown of its own. Then keep tracking the shore down to Canton Crossing, where things are just getting started. Head up to the East Side, near Johns Hopkins Hospital, where they’ve basically decided to create on purpose the situation faced by city leaders after the Great Fire; they’re reducing the area to rubble and then starting over again with a biotechnology park.

On the morning I write this, there’s a story in the paper about a single property on the west side of downtown that’s been trapped for six years in a purgatory of redevelopment paperwork. Six years! Maybe someday it will win a meaningful approval. Maybe someday after that a shovel will strike ground.

Fanned out across my desk are scores of blurry microfiche printouts of stories detailing Old Baltimore’s response to the fire (we had five major daily newspapers back then). It took just two short years—tumultuous years, to be sure, but two short years nonetheless—to clear her 86-block sea of rubble and raise a completely new downtown.

Not only that: The buildings that burnt had a combined value of $13 million. Their replacements were worth $35 million. The rebuilt downtown had better, wider streets and a better, more productive harbor. It delivered Baltimore into a future much brighter than it would otherwise have found.

How’d they pull that off? Could we modern-day Baltimoreans have done as well? Are we doing our rebuilding jobs as well?

The Baltimore News, Feb. 8, 1904: “To suppose that the spirit of our people will not rise to the occasion is to suppose that our people are not genuine Americans…We shall make the fire of 1904 a landmark not of decline but of progress.”

To be frank, Old Baltimore was in rather desperate need of progress. Downtown streets dated to colonial days. They were narrow, confusing, ill-connected and, as a result, paralyzed by horsedrawn traffic jams. Even pedestrian progress was an iffy proposition, thanks to the mish-mash of utility poles sunk in sidewalks to prop up an ugly, never-ending web of overhead wires.

The city’s wharves and port facilities were all but obsolete. The harbor was so thick with silt that only constant dredging kept its depth at 20 feet. That was deep enough for the old sailing ships, but everyone could see that the future belonged to steamships.

Last but far from least: sanitation. Imagine all the mounds of horse poop on those poorly drained streets. Imagine a city without a proper sewer system, its human waste routed from indoor water closets to stagnant nearby cesspools or into open ditches leading to open streams. The sweepers, shovelers, and scrapers who toiled to clear the muck went by a rather hopeful name: the Odorless Excavators Association. Not even they could prevent the filth from flowing freely on those frequent occasions when the Jones Falls flooded, inundating downtown clear to Calvert Street.

Old Baltimore wasn’t so much oblivious to her problems as impotent in the face of them. Most historians blame a brutal municipal hangover lingering from the Civil War, which created bitter divisions in Baltimore’s population while tearing away at the Southern roots of the city’s cultural and business life.

The “war sapped the vitality of an entire generation,” James B. Crooks writes in “Politics and Progress: The Rise of Urban Progressivism in Baltimore 1895–1911.” “Economically, Baltimoreans became more conservative; politically, they became apathetic; and psychologically, they became less daring.”

Nothing came of sanitation commissions established with great fanfare in 1881 and 1893. At the time of the fire, yet another sewer plan was before the General Assembly. As always, the Odorless Excavators lobbied furiously against it. Other civic-minded initiatives died at the ballot box as cynical voters convinced that official corruption was endemic rejected one bond referendum after another.

Still, some Baltimoreans were trying to revive their tired city. Inspired by the City Beautiful movement, the fledgling Municipal Art Society made lots of noise about better schools, wider streets, and new parks. Under editor Charles Grasty, the Baltimore News had become a powerfully progressive voice. In another hopeful sign, the dashing young Robert McLane was narrowly elected mayor in 1903. (McLane was a few months younger at his inauguration than Martin O’Malley was at his.)

The scenery and the players were now in position. Yet over the ensuing years, historians have gone back and forth on the chicken-or-egg question: Did Baltimore rouse herself just in time for the fire? Or was it the fire itself that finally roused her?

There are moments in the fire story when Old Baltimore seems not a century away, but a millennium. As news of the catastrophe spread across telegraph wires, everyone everywhere wanted to help. There was talk of emergency federal aid. Neighboring states offered money, manpower, and equipment. Spontaneous donations started arriving in the mail at City Hall.

The Baltimore News, Feb. 9, 1904: “Mayor McLane made the following statement to the News this morning: ‘As head of this municipality I cannot help but feel gratified at the sympathy and the offers of practical assistance which have been tendered us…To them I have in general terms replied: Baltimore will take care of its own people the best it can…but we thank you, and we appreciate it just the same.”

Some $60,000 in donations arrived in the mail before McLane’s message got out. All was returned, accompanied by properly polite thank-you-but-no notes. The city did accept $250,000 from the state of Maryland to help the injured and unemployed, but 90 percent of those funds were later returned to the state treasury.

Report of the Citizens’ Relief Committee, 1906: “In view of the enormous losses, the remarkably small showing of only $23,000 disbursed proves that the virility and self-respect of Baltimore’s citizens can not easily be matched, and their spirit of independence and capacity for self-help calls forth, even in this progressive age, wonder and admiration.”

As investigators waded into the rubble after the fire, snippets of encouraging news slowly trickled in. Buildings housing banks may not have been fireproof, but the vaults were, so securities and cash survived. Insurance companies offered public reassurances about their solvency. The predicted riots and looting didn’t materialize. Burned-out businesses scrambled to regroup.

The Baltimore News, Feb. 10, 1904: “RUSH FOR HOUSES. $75,000 Given for Building Worth. $37,000 Sufferers From Conflagration Glad to Pay Any Price For Temporary Quarters. North Charles street is now temporarily the center of the financial district. Almost every building is being offered for sale and some exorbitant prices are being asked.”

Of course there was profiteering: This is Baltimore, after all. What did you expect? But more important was the way some farsighted businessmen sensed straight away that the fire presented an opportunity to tackle the city’s seemingly intractable problems. On Tuesday, Feb. 9, retired railroad executive William Keyser called the first informal meeting of like-minded leaders. A follow-up session the next day included the mayor himself.

The Baltimore American, Feb. 11, 1904: “BALTIMORE BRAVE AND DETERMINED WORLD ADMIRES OUR GRIT…To carry out this civic spirit a meeting was held yesterday at City Hall, and steps will at once be taken to organize a special body that will announce to the world, and then proceed to furnish proof thereof, that Baltimore is fully able to cope with the calamity that has befallen it.”

That Friday, McLane named an advisory Citizens Emergency Committee. Its roster reads like a guide to the grand institutions and legal patriarchs of modern-day Baltimore: Henry Walters, Theodore Marburg, William H. Welch, Richard M. Venable, John E. Semmes, Sherlock Swann, Henry Stockbridge.

The headlines may have been gushingly optimistic, but the newspapers also carried reports hinting that caution remained the watchword for many Baltimoreans. Unnerved by the thought of thousands of men suddenly unemployed and hordes of strangers in town to gawk at the devastation, residents in a glitzy new suburb called Roland Park hired extra security patrols. The Maryland National Guard was called in to patrol downtown. And every tavern in the city was ordered shut down.

The Baltimore American, Feb. 15, 1904: “The efforts of saloonkeepers and breweries to elude the blockade of police and militia has led to the adoption of odd devices. Every kind of vehicle has been pressed into service to carry beer, and a story is current that an enterprising saloonkeeper in the Eastern district secured his beer by sending a hearse for it.”

Unnerved by the thought of thousands of men suddenly unemployed and hordes of strangers gawking at the devastation, residents in a glitzy new suburb called Roland Park hired extra security patrols.

The new advisory committee threw caution to the winds.  It split into subcommittees that began issuing reports in as little as three days. Streets should be widened. Parks should be built. Electrical wires should be buried. Wharves should be rebuilt. The harbor should be dredged. A proper sewer system should be built. The committee recommended that the rebuilding be planned and executed through a powerful new entity called the Burnt District Commission (whose acronym, by fitting coincidence, matches that of the modern-day Baltimore Development Corporation). Squeezed by a shortage of space at City Hall, the five-member commission headed by Sherlock Swann held its meetings in a janitor’s closet.

The Baltimore American, Feb. 15, 1904: “FINE PLANS FOR A MODEL CITY. The citizens of Baltimore yesterday, many for the first time, had a chance to pause sufficiently in their work to realize that a new era has been entered—that the Metropolis of the South stands upon the threshold of an epoch full of possibilities for a greater, more progressive and more influential Baltimore, whose importance cannot as yet even be estimated.”

The whole city seemed suddenly drunk with civic good will. Newspapers served up quote after hyperbolic quote from businessmen and politicians. Nary a cynical word was heard, even in the face of recommendations that the new Baltimore should be modeled after Paris—that’s right, the one in France. Then the real work began. And it became all too clear that wider streets meant smaller lots for new buildings, that new parks meant lost lots for some property owners, that rebuilt wharves would have to be city-owned—what of their current owners? At the risk being overly harsh, one might say that everyone in Baltimore favored every proposed improvement except the one that touched on his own holdings (and thus was “Not In My Backyard” born). Soon, voices of dissent were raised. Public rallies in opposition were mounted.

The Baltimore World, Feb. 19, 1904: “Delays are dangerous, and the great danger that hovers above Baltimore today is in delay…Every man who by penuriousness or greed puts a stumbling block in the pathway of the city’s improvements hangs a weight about his own neck, for in retarding the work, and hence the city’s progress, he depreciates his own property. Let us hope that no business man or property owner will fail to measure up to the needs of this occasion, or show that his greed is greater than his love for his city.”

McLane and his allies were nothing if not shrewd. The enabling legislation for the Burnt District Commission (which they had rushed through the General Assembly after the fire) gave the two city council branches that then wielded great power in Baltimore zero authority to amend the plan for new streets.

Pass it whole. Reject it whole. Take it or leave it. Those were the only options. Leave it, and pay the price.

The Baltimore American, March 11, 1904: “Baltimore’s City Council will lay itself open to severe public censure if any of the members allow themselves to get into wrangles over the ordinances required for the rebuilding…There is strong public demand…for prompt action, for no squabbles, for a hearty cooperation in every measure.”

McLane explained the strategy in simple, down-home terms: “We do not want to take three bites at the cherry.”

But his quote is rich with between-the-lines food for thought. His way managed all at once to be populist, progressive, and thoroughly anti-democratic. Sometimes, it seems, serving the public good—even doing the public’s will—requires making an end run around the public’s elected representatives.

Said representatives were none too happy to discover their powerlessness. On March 30, the Second Branch of the City Council erupted into open revolt and cast a stunning preliminary vote to dump the whole rebuilding scheme.

The Baltimore Sun, April 2, 1904: “Act, do something! The spirit of hopefulness and courage with which our citizens faced their calamity the day after the fire is being frittered away while Councilmen, intent upon petty features of the problem, demonstrate their incapacity to comprehend its larger features…The people of Baltimore want the work of rehabilitation to begin right away. They want deeds, not words.”

In the end, they got deeds. But the recalcitrant City Council got something, too—a compromise that killed the most controversial of the proposed widenings, Baltimore Street. The roads that were widened (by anywhere from 15 to 63 feet) include Hanover, Charles, Light, Pratt, St. Paul, Calvert, and German (now Redwood) streets, along with Hopkins Place.

An obvious question still lingers: Where’d the money come from? That brings us to a tale of timely good fortune.

The city had long before sunk some money into the Western Maryland Railroad. But by 1874, when John Mifflin Hood took over a bedraggled WMR, that investment looked like a bad bet, likely to end in a total loss. To everyone’s surprise, Hood turned the railroad around. When he sold WMR in 1902, the city cleared $8.7 million. It was a windfall just sitting there in the city’s coffers when the fire broke out.

The Baltimore World, Feb. 19, 1904: “There’s a good deal of silly sentiment about the Western Maryland money that must disappear in the face of a desperate business proposition such as now confronts us. If the Western Maryland money can help us, we should not hesitate a moment to use it.”

The windfall helped Baltimore get off to a fast start, but it didn’t come close to covering the whole rebuilding bill. Fortunately, a once-cynical public had by now changed its tune: Between 1904 and 1911, Baltimore voters approved bond issues totaling $50 million.

Soon enough, we will move on to our reasonably happy ending  ending. But the events of 1904 necessitate a couple of unfortunate detours first.

One is a personal tragedy. On May 30, 1904, Mayor McLane returned home from City Hall, and promised to take his new bride of just a few weeks out for a carriage ride. He went to his room; there was a shot, and he was found dying of a bullet wound to the head, presumably a suicide attempt. The historical record has whispers of domestic troubles and speculations about the pressure of the mayor’s public position. Some even suspected murder. But no plausible explanation was ever offered. McLane served as mayor for just 385 days.

The second detour returns us to larger civic affairs. Though Baltimore seized many important opportunities after the fire, she also missed out on a few. No memorial to the fire ever got built. Parks got squeezed out of the redevelopment plan, including a grand one that would have stretched along the south side of Fayette Street from the east end of City Hall to the west end of the Post Office and perhaps beyond.

Among the many advocates for this plan was Frederick Law Olmsted Jr., the son of the famed landscape architect. The younger Olmsted weighed in on the rebuilding in a report published by the News on Feb. 20, 1904. He suggested an entirely new street slice diagonally downhill from Baltimore and Park to Pratt and Light. Not only would it would ease congestion, he argued, it would also “form a splendid vista” of the harbor. Olmsted saw something in the harbor that few contemporaries did.

One gets the sense that if he were alive today, he would not be surprised in the least by the Inner Harbor. He proposed a pedestrian promenade for the waterfront, lined with plantings and lights. He suggested that scenic overlooks be placed atop the sheds that would sit along the new wharves.

“There is not a more interesting sight among all the activities of a city,” he wrote, “than the coming and going and maneuvering of big vessels and small craft in a busy harbor…My point is that in a comprehensive and intelligent treatment of the waterfront many matters of appearance and recreation can be provided for by the exercise of some thought…[and] without any material addition to the tax-payers’ burden.”

Olmsted wasn’t always so prescient, however. He also told Baltimore not to fret about its trolley lines, because it was inevitable that the city would soon develop a proper subway system.

Frederick Law Olmsted Jr., son of the famed architect, suggested an entirely new street slice diagonally downhill from Baltimore and Park to Pratt and Light. It would “form a splendid vista” of the harbor.

And so Baltimore’s plan wasn’t perfect. But what plan is?  In “The Limits of Power: Great Fires and the Process of City Growth,” historian Christine Meisner Rosen compares how well Baltimore, Boston, and Chicago recovered from their respective fires. Her conclusion is blunt: “Baltimoreans achieved more of their improvement goals more fully than the others, and consequently solved more problems.”

One can only imagine the scene downtown as 1904 gave way to 1905. Six months after the fire, 236 buildings were under construction. One year after the fire, more than 200 new buildings were completed and 170 more were under construction. And two tumultuous years after the fire, Baltimore had earned the right to do a little chest-thumping.

The Baltimore Sun, Feb. 7, 1906: “TWO YEARS AFTER FIRE BALTIMORE IS BOOMING. Marvelous Progress In Building, Manufactures, Municipal Improvements And General Business. RARE OPPORTUNITIES FOR CAPITAL. The Loss of $100,000,000 By The Conflagration Has Not Only Been Recovered, But The Aroused Enterprise Of The People Has Gone Something Like $100,000,000 Better—How One Of The Greatest Disasters Of Modern Times Has Been Converted Into A Blessing.”

The following September, the city threw a week-long Baltimore Jubilee. There were speeches and sermons and cheers. There were parades, concerts, light shows, and carnivals. There were tens of thousands of revelers downtown every night for a week.

Ninety percent of the lots in the burned district were occupied by then. The street improvements were finished—those are the streets we drive today. The wharves were being rebuilt—those are the piers of today’s Inner Harbor. The sewer system was in the works—that’s the one that’s still working (barely) today.

All played a critical role as Baltimore made the transition from one economic era to another, from dealing in dry goods to becoming a manufacturing powerhouse. In 1904, Baltimore’s industrial output was pegged at $150 million. By 1927, that climbed to $700 million.

When it comes to numbers like this, the historians argue back and forth about the impact of the fire. Some say the fire sparked a great revival. Others think Old Baltimore would have managed just fine in the new century in any case.

The Baltimore American, Sept. 10, 1906: “The conflagration destroyed all but hope and courage, and the two combined have raised from the ashes a new and greater city…Even the casual visitor [will be] compelled to admit that the Monumental City contains all that is possessed by any other city in the country.”

Not quite the Greatest City in America, perhaps, but at least Baltimore was in the running.

This story is based in part on interviews with Stephen Heaver of the Fire Museum of Maryland, Jeannine Disviscour and Barbara Weeks of The Maryland Historical Society, historian Dr. Pete Petersen of Johns Hopkins University, and historian Wayne Schaumburg, who has taught classes about the fire at several local colleges.

In addition to the newspaper articles, books, and official documents mentioned directly in the text, the most important written sources for the article were Baltimore Afire by Harold A. Williams, Baltimore on the Chesapeake by Hamilton Owens, Newspaper Days by H.L. Mencken, and “History of Baltimore 1870–1912,” an essay by John M. Powell in the book Baltimore: Its History and Its People.

For decades John W. Ruark has told the story at cocktail parties: how on a November night in 1977, as a student at what was then Towson State University, he took Truman Capote’s arm and led the inebriated, incoherent, profanity-spewing writer off stage.

“Mr. Capote,” he told him, “It’s time to go.”

A crowd of about 1,800 people had come to the university’s Towson Center to hear Capote read from his work, according to a report that week in The Towerlight, the school newspaper. Capote’s appearance–rambling and spiced with F-bombs–lasted only 10 minutes. The abrupt ending made for sensational headlines nationwide. Ruark, then student government president, told reporters about chaperoning Capote through the event—from hotel to Towson and back again.

But he only told part of the story.

“There are things that happened I felt uncomfortable sharing,” Ruark says. “I am a different person now than I was then.”

Decades later, Ruark, 66, is a wealth-management planner living in Miami, and Nov. 13, 1977 is a piece of his personal history. It’s also become a piece of literary history that, like Capote himself, is a provocative mix of gossipy entertainment and tragedy. That day, Capote publicly proclaimed himself a “genuine alcoholic” and told a reporter with the Baltimore News American that his Towson State reading would be his “final farewell.”

But Capote isn’t the sort to just go away. Nearly 40 years after his death, the author of In Cold Blood and Breakfast at Tiffany’s—himself the star of countless cocktail parties—remains endlessly fascinating. Capote vs. the Swans, an eight-episode season of the Ryan Murphy anthology series Feud, premiered this week on FX and Hulu. The show depicts Capote’s exile from a flock of New York socialites—a banishment that intensified his uncontrollable drinking and drugging.

Which led to that Sunday night in Towson.

Two years earlier, Capote had published “La Côte Basque 1965” in Esquire magazine. Its main characters were Capote’s wealthy women friends—thinly disguised. They felt betrayed by Capote’s use of the infidelities and petty secrets of their lives, so they ostracized him. He recounted later to the New York Times that this painful exile led him to visit five psychiatrists and check into a rehab facility to kick pills and booze.

But those struggles hadn’t ended when he arrived at the Hunt Valley Inn ahead of his talk.

When Ruark came into Capote’s room, he found the 53-year-old writer in the company of a man he recalls Capote describing as “my young friend.” Ruark was about 10 minutes early, so Capote said he’d like to use the bathroom.

And there he stayed.

Ten minutes became 15. The young friend knocked on the door, but Capote wouldn’t come out.

“Are you aware that Mr. Capote just got out of rehab?” Ruark remembers the young friend saying. Ruark hadn’t known that.

“He hates talking in a public forum like this,” the young friend said.

Fifteen minutes became 20, and at last Capote emerged. On the drive, Ruark discerned a change in Capote’s demeanor. The writer began to mumble and murmur in what Ruark calls “that unique voice of his.” It’s a voice once described as sounding like a hamster on helium. But Capote’s words didn’t make sense. By the time they reached Towson, it was clear to Ruark that Capote had ingested some intoxicant and couldn’t carry off the talk.

He found David Nevins, a former student government president who since graduating had joined the university’s administration, and who was on hand to help with the event. Nevins, who had started the school’s speaker series, recalls looking forward to Capote’s talk.

“Truman Capote was as famous then as Oprah Winfrey is today,” he says.

But Ruark motioned toward Capote. “This guy,” Ruark said, “I don’t know what he’s on, but I don’t think he’s going to be able to give the speech.”

What to do? Let him speak? Stop him? Nevins, who now owns a public relations firm in Towson, remembers an associate of Capote’s insisting that he’d be okay to give the talk. Ruark remembers learning that they had to let Capote try. Stop him and the student government would be liable for Capote’s $3,500 fee. But if Capote couldn’t deliver, then the failure would be his. He’d violate the contract, and the student government could keep his fee.

“It was important to me not to screw up the financial part of it,” Ruark says.

On the way to the podium, Capote tripped. He dropped his reading glasses. When Ruark picked them up, Capote spat at him: “Fuck you!” Nevins remembers Capote throwing a book into the audience, then singling out people and calling them “fat” and “slovenly.” According to The Towerlight, Capote announced, “I’m going to read you something I like and if you don’t like it, to hell with you.” Ruark, though, recalls “to hell with you” as another F-bomb.

“We could not use that kind of language in public at the time,” Ruark says. “We took him from both sides. He didn’t say ‘stop’ or anything like that.”

“He was sort of childlike in his response,” says Nevins. “He just kind of looked and oddly smiled.”

“I was quite shaken,” Ruark says. “But we got him to the car.”

Nevins went back to the podium and apologized to the crowd. “It’s the most applause that I’ve ever gotten anywhere at any time,” he says.

Back in Hunt Valley, Capote’s young friend and Ruark puzzled over how to get Capote out of the car and back to his room. Capote wouldn’t move, and couldn’t keep his feet. Small, he might have weighed about 130 pounds at the time, Ruark tossed Capote headfirst over his shoulder, then headed for the lobby.

And this is what he didn’t tell reporters. As they passed through the lobby, Capote, still slung over Ruark’s shoulder, squeezed one of Ruark’s butt cheeks and said, “You have a nice ass.”

Why withhold this detail? Because Ruark was then a 20-year-old man from Salisbury, on Maryland’s conservative Eastern Shore, struggling in less open-minded 1977 toward coming out as gay.

“I’m coming out of the closet,” Ruark says now, “and oh, my gosh, this man’s grabbing my ass. What do I do?”

What he did was lay Capote carefully on the hotel room bed, then hurry back to his dormitory to deal with fallout from the event.

Other speakers who came to Towson State that year performed without a hitch. Ruark graduated after majoring in economics. He’s now married, happily out, and contributes to LGBTQ+ causes. He’s still pleased to tell the story of his encounter with Truman Capote, and how, despite the tension and sadness of it all, Capote still delivered the evening’s ass-grabbing punchline.

Ruark never considered Capote’s actions harassment or oppressive. “I just literally thought it was funny,” he says.

Capote continued his cycle of addiction and celebrity until his death at age 59. Complaining to an interviewer a year after the Towson event, he said he didn’t understand why people had made such a big deal of his behavior that night.

“My goodness,” he said, “you’d have thought I killed the Lindbergh baby.”

Michael Downs is a former newspaper journalist and past director of the graduate program in professional writing at Towson University. He has published three books, most recently a novel, The Strange and True Tale of Horace Wells, Surgeon Dentist.

News from our partners at

A Baltimore family is in for a very special Christmas morning thanks to the organization Cars with Care.

“Having us come and knock on your door and hand you the keys— free and clear—to a vehicle, I think that’s a big deal,” said Stephen Green, one of the co-founders of Cars with Care.

Cars with Care is an organization made up of a group of Black-owned business owners who buy, recondition, and donate vehicles to families in need every Christmas.

“Cars with Care is about giving a family opportunity, giving someone the means to explore opportunities beyond their immediate borders because, a lot of times in the city, if you depend on public transportation or spending money on an Uber or a Lyft, it can be kind of taxing on that family,” Green said.

Cars with Care team members all have backgrounds in auto reconditioning or philanthropy. The team includes Green, who owns Paintless Dent Doctor; Damond Horne, who owns Total Recon; Eric Randall Jr., who owns of KXK Financial; Michael Foy, who owns CM Mobile Detailing; and Kermit Fowlkes, who owns Focus Movers.

Green and his team have been reconditioning and donating cars for the past seven years, and they’ll give away their eighth car this year.

Baltimore nonprofit Hug Don’t Shoot will fill the car with toys and other items for the recipient family. Cars with Care has not picked a winner yet, and they’re still accepting entries on their website.

Read the rest of the story, reported by our WBAL partners, at wbaltv.com

A pair of gold statues sits prominently on Pat Moran’s desk in her Canton office. Amidst the clutter of paperwork and stacks of DVDs, the figures of a winged woman holding a globe aloft are instantly recognizable as Emmys, the television industry’s most prestigious award. But look closely and you might notice that one of Moran’s Emmys—the one she received last year for casting HBO’sGame Change—has a busted wing with a Band-Aid affixed to it. And its globe is dented.

“It took a header on to the floor,” says Moran, her voice rising with each word.

Until recently, the Emmys sat atop pedestals in the upstairs living room of her Mt. Vernon home. That is until a strong wind gusted across Park Avenue, dislodging a painted screen that toppled the Emmy and nearly gave its recipient a coronary. “I almost had a heart attack,” says Moran. “But if it had happened 25 years ago, I would have flipped out and gone ballistic. I’m a lot better now than the lunatic I used to be.”

The wounded Emmy is indicative of how Moran, a longtime presence in the local film community, has changed. Around town, she has long been known for her flame-red hair, sharp demeanor that doesn’t suffer fools, and keen eye for talent. She has, of late, risen to the pinnacle of her profession and, dare it be said, mellowed somewhat in the process. Moran’s longtime friend and confidant John Waters, who’s known her for almost 50 years, says that “her rage level has gone down, and she seems happier than ever.”

Why shouldn’t she be? She’s cast nearly every film and television project that’s come through town, including Waters’s films, Barry Levinson’s Avalon and Liberty Heights, NBC’s Homicide: Life on the Street, The Wire (recently cited by Entertainment Weeklyas the best TV show of all time), and the HBO comedy series, Veep, starring Julia Louis-Dreyfus (who’s featured in this month’s Best Of story). She’s been nominated for seven Primetime Emmys, won twice, and earned respect throughout the industry.

David Rubin, casting director of blockbusters such as Men in Black and The English Patient, sponsored Moran for membership in the Casting Society of America. He marvels at her ability to “recognize talent on the fringes of the mainstream and understand the inner life of characters on a script’s page.”

Jane Love, associate executive director of the Screen Actors Guild’s Washington-Mid Atlantic local, calls Moran “a treasure”; The Wire creator David Simon says she’s “a mad genius”; and Veep producer Stephanie Laing floats the L-word—“Pat Moran is a legend,” she says.

But Moran will have none of it. “A legend is Cecil B. DeMille,” she says. “That’s what I think of as a legend, not me.”

She tips her head back, sniffs the air, and adopts a tone of privilege. “Oh, could you pass me that?” she says to some imagined minion, and then smiles demurely, blinks her eyes, and points to herself. “Legend.”

“Could I have that seat?” she asks, pointing to herself again. “Legend.” She quickly snaps out of it. “Are you kidding?” she asks. “My whole career has been one big accident. I’m just lucky to have gotten out of Catonsville.”

“My whole career has been one big accident.”

Moran grew up in Catonsville, in a Civil War-era house at the corner of Beechfield and Frederick avenues. Her grandparents had emigrated from Ireland and lived nearby, over a grocery/liquor store run by her parents. Moran’s father worked nights as a musician, leading the Johnny Moran Orchestra, a local big band known for playing midnight cruises on the S.S. Tolchester. The oldest of five children (she has four younger brothers), Pat learned to identify Benny Goodman songs but never learned to ride a bike; she knew of big band leader Si Zentner but didn’t know how to swim, which was fine by her. “I never wanted to be a child,” she says, “and I never cared about the things most kids did.”

Moran preferred hanging out with her mother, Grace. She admired her smarts and keen instincts, which her mother attributed to being born on Friday the 13th with a “veil” over her face. The veil—actually, a portion of the birth membrane called a caul—was surgically removed and sold to a local seaman who, like superstitious sailors for centuries, believed that possessing it would prevent his ship from sinking. “That always gave my mother a kind of spookiness,” says Moran, “and she felt she had sort of a sixth sense because of it. Fifteen people could be in a room, and she could immediately tell you who was good and who was bad.”

“I’m the same way,” she continues, “if there’s a situation, I go with my gut feeling. John [Waters] says I have ‘a contempt prior to investigation,’ but why investigate? It usually turns out to be exactly what I thought at the very beginning.”

Moran graduated from Mount de Sales Academy, an all-girls Catholic school, “at a time when women weren’t supposed to have opinions or any bits of creativity,” she says. “If you could balance a teacup on your knee, that was great.”

Though she received an excellent education and developed a cultured confidence that dovetailed with the manners she learned at home, “it was dullsville,” says Moran, who longed to escape. She had read about beatniks and wanted to be one.

She happened to meet Barry Narlines while working as a clerk at the Social Security Administration in the early 1960s. He remembers it well. “Pat stood out, and she was a notch above everyone else,” says Narlines, who was a supervisor at the time. “She was sophisticated, had the most amazing sense of humor, and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. We just clicked.”

Narlines was gay, lived in Mt. Vernon, and was interested in opera, theater, movies, music, fashion, art, and current events—“everything I loved,” recalls Moran, who began hanging out with Narlines at Leon’s, a gay bar on the corner of Park Avenue and Tyson Street.

Her mother was appalled she was going downtown, but approved of the friendship with Narlines because Pat felt safe and comfortable around him and his friends. “They introduced me to a whole new world of style and taste,” says Moran. “Gay men liberated me from Middle America.”

“Gay men liberated me from Middle America.”

Moran eventually migrated to Martick’s, Baltimore’s premier bohemian hangout on W. Mulberry Street, where she befriended another tribe of colorful characters and, sometimes, worked as a cocktail waitress. One night, she ran into an aspiring filmmaker from Lutherville hanging out in the alley adjacent to the bar. In 1964, John Waters wasn’t old enough to get into Martick’s—in fact, he was still in high school—but some of the regulars snuck him drinks. Like Moran, he was a refugee from the county, and they became fast friends. “We had both ventured downtown and found the world we were looking for,” Waters says. “Pat may have worked at Social Security by day, but she was a beatnik goddess at night.”

They hitchhiked to New York together, discovered the underground films of Andy Warhol and Jonas Mekas, and hung out with similarly spirited misfits like Divine, David Lochary, and Mink Stole, who all contributed mightily to Waters’s early career. But no one did more than Moran. “She was so professional and set a really good example,” says Stole, before lauding Moran’s resourcefulness, determination, and fierce loyalty.

“At first, it was just me and her,” says Waters. “Pat did whatever was needed,” which meant everything from finding actors and securing locations (Divine’s steak-stealing scene in Pink Flamingos was shot inside her parents’ store) to playing Dr. Coathanger’s Secretary (in 1969’s Mondo Trasho).

Moran also left Social Security for a series of jobs downtown: selling tickets at Center Stage, briefly operating a hot dog stand on Read Street, opening a vintage clothing shop called Divine Trash, and, later, running The Charles Theatre. She exhibited a savvy resourcefulness in those jobs, as well, and Waters recalls the time a candle accidentally set a customer’s hair on fire at the shop. “Pat didn’t even apologize,” says Waters. “She just sold her a hat.”

But as Waters’s productions grew bigger, Moran focused exclusively on casting and found she had a knack for putting real, authentic-looking characters on screen. And as his reputation soared with films like Hairspray and Cry-Baby, her stock went up, too.

She accompanied Waters to film festivals—he calls her “the perfect fake wife”—and remembers walking the red carpet at Cannes, spotting heroes like actress Jean Moreau, and exchanging “Can you believe this?” looks. At one point, Moran leaned into Waters and quipped, “It’s a long way from Martick’s, isn’t it?”

Besides working with Waters, she worked on films like Her Alibi and Clara’s Heart, and when NBC and Barry Levinson brought the TV series Homicide to town in the early-1990s, they tapped Moran for casting the extras. “I’d worked with Barry before, but the network didn’t have any relationship with me,” says Moran. “At that time, I was just a maniac known for working with a tribe of lunatics.”

As the show progressed, Moran earned the network’s trust and was given the additional responsibility of casting day players and other speaking roles. By the time Homicide wrapped in 1999, she’d won her first Emmy and had a career in show business.

“John Waters showed me how to make movies,” says Moran, “and Barry Levinson legitimized me.”

On a Wednesday afternoon in June, Moran’s office is packed with aspiring actors. She’s auditioning roles for an indie docudrama about British spies during World War II. Moran’s husband, Chuck Yeaton—they’ve been together since 1970 and have two grown children—summons them one-by-one to “the box.” Named after the interrogation room in Homicide, its walls are lined with memorabilia, signs (including one reading “Moran’s Wacko Ward”), and headshots of stars who’ve worked with her, including Johnny Depp, Ricki Lake, and Whoopi Goldberg.

A procession of actors sits in front of Moran and her assistant, Scott Goergens, who records each audition and reads dialogue as needed. Over the course of the two-hour session, Moran exhibits unflagging energy, giving the actors background information about the plot and offering spirited, no-nonsense direction about how a scene should be played. Her disarming suggestions seem to ease tension and calm actors’ nerves.

Veep’s Stephanie Laing, who’s been in “the box” with Moran, notes how she “takes more of a lead than most casting directors. Her casting sessions are a show in itself, because she’s so hands-on trying to bring out the best in an actor.”

Moran intently watches each audition on a flat-screen TV, giving feedback on practice takes and offering advice.

“Keep in mind that you’re not playing to the back row. The camera picks up everything.”

“Try not to punch the last word.”

“Pump your volume up and don’t make it so sinister.”

“Never start a scene that big, unless it’s one where you’re getting murdered.”

After the recorded take is complete, she’s all business. “Okay, that’s all we need,” she says in a clear, clipped voice. “Thank you. Bye bye.” There’s no opening for conversation, as she makes notes on a clipboard in her lap. Each audition lasts about five minutes.

Between actors, she whispers her impressions to Goergens, observations like “Great look, but I didn’t believe a word he said,” or “If we go wider [in our search], and I think we should, he gets a call back.”

It’s that confident, nearly instant, evaluation of talent (her mother would be proud) and ability to match someone with not only the role they’ll play, but the space they’ll occupy, that’s become Moran’s calling card. That’s why Baltimoreans recognize themselves inHomicide and The Wire, arguably her two greatest accomplishments.

“It’s not that she’s merely a good judge of talent, it’s that she’s an exceptional judge of Baltimore,” says David Simon. “There were times when people would walk into auditions with faces, bodies, demeanors, or accents that any other casting agent in America would say, ‘How do I put this [peculiar] fella in front of a camera?’ And Pat would think, ‘Now, this is Baltimore.’

“Invariably, she would be right. She’s not interested in making the world prettier, shapelier, cleaner, or less idiosyncratic than it is. She’s interested in replicating the world that we all know.”

She understands, as fellow casting director David Rubin will tell you, that when a character with only one line has their moment in the center of a movie screen, 30 feet tall, they are the star of the film.

“When I read a script, I see people in those roles, all the roles,” she says, during a break. “And when someone walks through that door, I want to give them a job. It makes my life easier.”

With that, the break is over.

“Next!” Moran hollers, and another actor makes his way to “the box.”

Ellicott City Decimated by Flash Flooding

In just two hours on the evening of July 30, a storm dumped 6.5 inches of rain on Ellicott City, producing a deluge that swept down the town’s historic Main Street, inflicted $23 million of damage, and caused two deaths. The world witnessed the chaos via viral videos, but even those showed only a fraction of the devastation. When the waters of the usually picturesque Tiber and Hudson rivers finally receded, the downtown was strewn with flipped cars, collapsed roads and sidewalks, and a thick coating of mud. Many businesses, particularly those at the bottom of the sloped Main Street, lost everything. Still, the community vowed to rebuild and rallied with fundraisers. A few less severely damaged businesses reopened in late August, but others remain boarded up as business owners wrestle with insurance claims and await infrastructure repairs. (The town received federal disaster designation in September.) Meanwhile, authorities are mulling how to incorporate better storm water management practices in the flood-prone town.

Department of Justice Drops Scathing Report on Baltimore Police

Soon after the death of 25-year-old Freddie Gray in April 2015, the U.S. Department of Justice launched an investigation of the Baltimore City Police Department. On Aug. 10 of this year, the DOJ’s 163-page report was released to the public and a press conference was held in which Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake, Police Commissioner Kevin Davis, and DOJ representative Vanita Gupta discussed the findings. Chief among them: Police routinely violated the civil rights of the city’s black residents, the department lacked proper oversight and was sometimes negligent in cases of sexual assault, the department needed improved transparency and community engagement, and as a whole, BPD needed upgraded technology and infrastructure. The findings formed the basis for the first steps toward a negotiated settlement, or a “consent decree,” and the city and DOJ are currently locked in negotiations, which will mandate specific reforms.

Officers Acquitted, Remaining Charges Dropped in Freddie Gray’s Death

After failing to earn a single conviction in its first four attempts, the Baltimore state’s attorney’s office dropped all charges against the three remaining officers accused in relation to the arrest and death of Freddie Gray. First, Officer William Porter’s trial ended in a hung jury. Then, in quick succession, Officer Edward Nero, Officer Caesar Goodson, and Lt. Brian Rice were acquitted in bench trials. The trials of Officer Garrett Miller and Sgt. Alicia White were scrapped, as was a retrial of Porter. The process left many city residents frustrated. Some saw the acquittals as proof that State’s Attorney Marilyn Mosby had bungled the cases, rushing to indict in the wake of the unrest following Gray’s death. Others felt that the inability to hold any police officer criminally responsible for Gray’s death represented business as usual in a city with a checkered history of police violence toward its black citizenry. As for how it will all play out for Mosby, time will tell—she’s not up for reelection until 2018.

“For those that believe that I’m anti-police, it’s simply not the case. I am anti-police brutality.”

—Baltimore State’s Attorney Marilyn Mosby defending her decision to bring charges against six police officers

Port Covington Approved Despite Controversy

For years, no one paid much attention to the 266 acres of post-industrial waterfront in South Baltimore now known as Port Covington. Enter Kevin Plank. Throughout 2014, the Under Armour CEO’s Sagamore Development Co. spent about $90 million to buy the tract, envisioning a new Under Armour campus and a $5.5 billion mini-city with offices, retail, parks, and commercial space (plus some affordable housing). While some residents were thrilled by the proposal, others were skeptical, wary of gentrification and wondering what the city would really reap for its $660 million tax increment financing investment in the development. In September, Sagamore, the city, and a coalition of South Baltimore neighborhoods reached an agreement whereby Sagamore would provide about $100 million in community benefits as part of the development. With that settled, Plank’s plan won approval from the City Council and the mayor. Look for the digging to start pronto.

“I think we’re making the right decision.”

—City Council President Bernard C. “Jack” Young

Maryland Dominates Olympics and Paralympics

We all know the “America in miniature” slogan about our home state. But during the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio, it really came true. Maryland-born, -raised, or -trained athletes won a staggering 23 medals—more golds (18) than all but four countries. Of course, leading the pack were swimmers Michael Phelps and Katie Ledecky. But don’t forget swimmer Chase Kalisz, basketball players Carmelo Anthony and Angel McCoughtry, wrestlers Kyle Snyder and Helen Maroulis, and volleyball player Aaron Russell, among others. Less than a month later, state pride was on full display at the Paralympics when Tatyana McFadden won four golds in track, Navy’s Brad Snyder broke a 30-year-old record in the 100-meter freestyle, and swimmer Rebecca Meyers won multiple golds. Three more swimmers—all Loyola trained—cleaned up in the pool, too.

Crab cakes and gold medals – that’s what #Maryland does! https://t.co/ieJCxNMs9G #Olympics
— Larry Hogan (@LarryHogan) August 10, 2016

Baltimore Discovers It’s Being Watched

Illustration by Scotty Reifsnyder

In August, Bloomberg News published “Secret Cameras Record Baltimore’s Every Move From Above.” As the bombshell story detailed, since January, the Baltimore police department has conducted a secret spying program to watch its citizens, just like the kind used by the American military in Iraq. Camera-equipped planes “transmit real-time images to analysts” and the footage—mostly of crime scenes or high-crime areas—can be archived for future use. The project—enabled by technology from Persistent Surveillance Systems—was able to be kept secret from most city officials because it was financed via a private grant through the Baltimore Community Foundation (which also claimed no knowledge of the project). The police downplayed talk of “Big Brother,” insisting this is just another effective crime-fighting tool. Meanwhile, many Baltimoreans could do little more than shrug, noting that, between cellphone tracking and blue-light cameras, we were already being watched.

“Imagine Google Earth with TiVo capability.”

—Elevator pitch for Persistent Surveillance Systems’ technology

Light City Makes its Shimmering Debut

For months, it had been promoted as an unprecedented event—the first large-scale light festival in the country. When it arrived at the end of March, Charm City wondered if it would live up to the hype. It did—mostly. The first Light City Baltimore boasted 28 light installations, dozens of performances, and an innovation conference featuring national and international speakers. All told, the festival attracted more than 400,000 attendees and added $33.8 million to the local economy—drumming up excitement for 2017’s iteration. Sure, the weather didn’t exactly behave, a few installations underwhelmed, and there was criticism that the social justice emphasis was lost in all the hoopla. (A pending lawsuit between the city and two founding organizers about intellectual property rights also threatens to tarnish the event’s luster.) Still, it’s always remarkable to see a city come alive, and for those seven nights, it truly did.

Peacock by Tim Scofield and Kyle Miller,
photography courtesy of Baltimore Office of Promotion & the Arts

“It helps bring us together, and yes, it transforms us.”

—Baltimore resident Fred Shoken

Pugh Emerges From the Pack

Once Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake announced that she wasn’t running for reelection, it truly opened the floodgates in the Baltimore Democratic mayoral primary. No fewer than 13 Democrats ran for mayor—including businessman David Warnock (whose folksy TV ads blanketed the city), upstart attorney Elizabeth Embry (daughter of Abell Foundation’s Bob), and Black Lives Matter activist DeRay Mckesson. But in the end, inevitably perhaps, it came down to two longtime political foes—state Sen. Catherine Pugh and controversial former mayor Sheila Dixon. When the dust cleared, Pugh—who gained key endorsements from Kweisi Mfume, Rep. Elijah Cummings, and fellow mayoral candidate Nick Mosby, who dropped out toward the end of the race—won by a narrow margin (36.6 percent to Dixon’s 34.7 percent). In the general election (which was held after we went to press), Pugh was projected to beat Republican Alan Walden, the Green Party’s Joshua Harris, and—wait for it—Dixon again, who announced a long-shot write-in bid as an independent in October.

We did it — we won! Thank you for all of your support. Let’s move Baltimore forward! pic.twitter.com/DgIbgo7hUh
— Catherine Pugh (@MayorElectPugh) April 27, 2016

Carla Hayden Becomes 14th Librarian Of Congress

It’s not every day that a Baltimore bookworm gets picked by the president of the United States to head up the immense collection of books, archives, and research held by the Library of Congress. But as longtime CEO of the Enoch Pratt Free Library, Carla Hayden is not your average bibliophile. A beloved figure within the Baltimore community, the 64-year-old Cross Keys resident spent more than 20 years at the Pratt, shepherding the local institution through advancements in technology, multimillion dollar renovations and, of course, the Baltimore Uprising, when she kept all branches open during the unrest and its aftermath. Her longtime friend Barack Obama noticed her hard work, and this September, just as schools were back in session, Hayden was sworn in as the 14th Librarian of Congress. In that moment, she became not only the first African-American to hold the position but the first female, as well.

“More than eighty per cent of librarians are women, but the Librarian of Congress has always been a white man—until now.”

—The New Yorker, 9/20

Record Blizzard Blankets Baltimore

Here’s a riddle: What was 29.2 inches deep, took some 3,100 pieces of heavy equipment to remove, caused 368 car accidents, and canceled 1,352 flights at BWI? Snowzilla, of course, the record-setting, snow-shovel-breaking blizzard that bore down on the region the weekend of Jan. 23 and 24. Of course, it should have been good news when Gov. Larry Hogan told us all to stay off the roads that Monday—bonus vacation day!—except that we then had to spend the next two days digging through the drifts to find our cars. With up to 35 inches smacking other parts of the state, Hogan also requested federal disaster funds to bankroll the budget-busting cleanup that cost as much as $17 million in Baltimore alone. But hey, at least we set a record.

Courtesy of gbrammer

“It blew [previous storms] out of the water.”

—Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake

Bike Share (Finally) Rides into Town

Illustration by Scotty Reifsnyder

Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake first announced plans to bring a bike-sharing program to Baltimore in 2011. So it was with a great sense of satisfaction—and a little bit of relief—that local cyclists finally saw the formal launch of Baltimore Bike Share on Oct. 28. Ultimately, 465 bikes at 50 stations from Locust Point to Station North should be in place by spring. Equally important, construction of the Maryland Avenue cycle track—a dedicated, two-lane bikeway protected by flex posts—is nearly complete. A new downtown network of bike lanes also is getting a build out, which should help folks on those new blue-bike-share rides enjoy a safer cruise. The hope is that Baltimore Bike Share will grow to include more bikes and more stations in more neighborhoods.

“I’m optimistic. There’s a lot of good planning in place and funding.”

—Liz Cornish, executive director of Bikemore, the city’s nonprofit bicycling advocacy organization

Thornton Out, Santelises In as City Schools CEO

Though discontent began building almost as soon as Gregory Thornton took over as city schools CEO in July 2014, most were caught off guard this spring when the school board announced that Thornton was leaving less than two years into a four-year contract. Turns out, even as the school board was publicly supporting Thornton, it had been privately searching for his replacement since last fall. And when Thornton’s departure was announced at a May meeting, the board simultaneously revealed his successor—former city schools administrator Sonja Santelises. The surprise ouster pleased Thornton’s critics, who blamed him for a drop in enrollment, stagnant test scores, and inert leadership. “Dr. Thornton has . . . not yet provided any kind of operational plan to improve academic instruction, particularly in literacy. . . . There have been only . . . empty promises and generalities,” one former school board member told The Sun in February. Though Santelises, who started July 1, seems to be settling in, the switch has not been without hiccups. This fall, the Maryland Open Meeting Compliance Board ruled the city school board twice violated the state’s Open Meeting Compliance Act during its secretive CEO search.

“This was not an attempt to be underhanded. Just because the adults had to figure things out, we couldn’t let that affect the kids.”

—School Board Chair Marnell Cooper

Adnan Syed’s Conviction Overturned

Sixteen years after he was found guilty of murdering his ex-girlfriend—and almost two years after his case gained infamy as the subject of the hit podcast Serial—Adnan Syed got his wish when his conviction was overturned by a Baltimore Circuit Court judge in June. The ruling was a long time coming for the former Woodlawn High School student, who launched his latest appeal in late 2014. Judge Martin Welch cited deficiencies in Syed’s original legal defense as the reason for a new trial, and insisted that media coverage had not affected his decision. Nevertheless, Welch’s judgment proved divisive. The family of the victim, Hae Min Lee, derided the ruling as a miscarriage of justice, and the Maryland attorney general’s office is appealing it. In September, elected state’s attorneys from every jurisdiction in Maryland except Baltimore County, Baltimore City, and Cecil County signed a petition opposing Welch’s decision, too. However, Syed’s brother called it “not only a win for us but a win for a lot of people who are stuck in the system.” With no new trial in sight, Syed’s attorneys filed a motion for bail in October, stating their client represents no danger to the community and poses no flight risk.

Getty Images/The Baltimore Sun

“If the state is so confident in its case, the state should do the right thing and give Syed a fair trial he never received the first time around.”

—C. Justin Brown, Syed’s lead attorney to The Baltimore Sun

Harriet Tubman Announced as New Face of $20 Bill

Illustration by Scotty Reifsnyder

This past spring, after months of debate, the U.S. Treasury Department announced that Harriet Tubman would be on the $20 bill, making her the first woman and African-American honored on modern paper currency. Tubman will displace Andrew Jackson, moving the seventh U.S. president (and known slaveholder) to the back of the bill. Born in Dorchester County in 1820, Tubman escaped slavery in her late 20s and became perhaps the most famous “conductor” of the Underground Railroad, as well as a prominent abolitionist. While final designs will not be revealed until 2020, the move marks a symbolic shift and victory for gender equality and women everywhere.

“This is . . . a victory for the millions of American people, young and old, who cared enough about women and their worth to rally for this historic change.”

—Susan Ades Stone, executive director of the campaign to put Tubman on the bill

Howard County Sheriff Forced Out

Three-term Howard County sheriff James Fitzgerald was forced to resign in October following protests and threats of impeachment spurred by the release of a 48-page report detailing an alleged history of bigoted behavior. In the report, the majority of those interviewed described Fitzgerald as “vindictive and abusive.” He is accused of using racial epithets to describe African Americans, belittling the intelligence of his black deputies, and disparaging government officials who are female, gay, Asian, and Jewish. One witness said that Fitzgerald referred to former Howard County Executive Ken Ulman as “little Kenny Jew-boy.” The investigation was launched after a complaint by one of Fitzgerald’s deputies, who resigned after what he alleged was years of retaliatory behavior by the sheriff for refusing to support his reelection bid.

“We really pride ourselves on being a place where we don’t just tolerate diversity, we celebrate it.”

—Howard County Council Chairman Calvin Ball

Miller Makes History at Hopkins Hospital

After 127 years of male leadership, The John Hopkins Hospital sparked considerable fanfare when it named 49-year-old hospital exec Dr. Redonda Miller as its president in May. Though Miller’s gender marks her as a trailblazer, in many ways she was an obvious choice: She earned her medical degree and completed her internship and residency in internal medicine at Hopkins, and subsequently served in numerous teaching, clinical, and high-ranking administrative roles there. Said Johns Hopkins Health System president Ronald Peterson: “Redonda’s extraordinary combination of exceptional medical prowess, years of progressive administrative experience, and the well-earned respect of senior clinical and administrative leadership will serve us all well.” For her part, Miller took her glass ceiling-shattering moment in stride: “I’m very proud to be the first female president, and it does send a message to other women aspiring to leadership roles, but gender won’t play into my day-to-day role.”

“We didn’t necessarily set out to do this, but increasingly, we are trying to make sure we look at a diverse pool of candidates. I am personally pleased that the best candidate happened to be a woman.”

—Ronald Peterson, president of the Johns Hopkins Health System

Bel-Loc Diner To Become a Starbucks?

Illustration by Scotty Reifsnyder

With its foil-colored, folded-plate roofline and neon signage, the space age-inspired Bel-Loc Diner was a beaut when it opened on April 4, 1964, to the tune of $112,544. Serving burgers, fries, and shakes around the clock for 52 years, the Parkville joint at 1700 E. Joppa Road was where you went for a slice of pie—and a piece of the past. So when the Starbucks Corporation submitted plans to replace the diner with the ever-expanding coffee chain and drive-through, preservationists protested. In June, the plans were approved by the Baltimore County Department of Planning, but they’re still awaiting approval by the permits department before getting green-lighted. Good to the last drop? Stay tuned.

“It’s a truly unique part of Baltimore’s history.”

—Baltimore County Councilman David Marks

Joyce Scott is Officially A Genius

Baltimore, and Maryland for that matter, has long been aware of Joyce Scott’s artistic prowess. For decades, she has melded social activism, sculpture, and jewelry into intricately beaded works that challenge our ideas about society and civil rights, and are displayed in museums around the world. So when “Aunt” Joyce was lauded locally and nationally this year, Charm City’s art scene rejoiced. In May, she won a $50,000 Baker Artist Award, one of the city’s top honors for working artists. But the biggest news came in September, when the MacArthur Foundation announced that Scott was a recipient of one of its “genius grants,” which recognize the country’s greatest creative thinkers. Each comes with a $625,000 prize. Now, we await Scott’s artistic response to her banner year. If it’s like her past work, it will be remarkable.

Courtesy of John D. & Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation

“This is an amazing time for me. At 67, all my dreams are coming true, and then I’m getting new dreams.”

—Joyce Scott

A Hedgehog Storms Fox45

At first, it seemed like a Halloween prank gone awry. In May, a man dressed in a hedgehog costume and wielding a flash drive containing a conspiracy rant walked into the lobby of Fox45, threatening to blow himself up unless the TV station broadcast his message. Fox45 staffers were evacuated and covered their own story via social media. Many followed along, snarking on the situation’s absurdity, especially after a bomb-detecting robot determined that the “bomb” was, in fact, candy bars stuffed inside of a life preserver. But the event took a sad turn when it became clear that then-25-year-old Alex Brizzi—shot, but not killed, by police to end the standoff—was suffering from the symptoms of severe mental illness. “We really didn’t see this coming,” said his father, Ed. “We were looking at him, trying to assess him, trying to figure out what to do. He’s 25 years old, so I can’t say, ‘You’ve got to go into the hospital.’”

“This is a very, very unusual event.”

—Police Commissioner Kevin Davis

Cal and Kelly Are Kaput

After almost 30 years of marriage, Cal and Kelly Ripken called it quits in April. By the time the public heard about it, a settlement had been reached, and all court documents were sealed to protect the couple’s privacy. But that didn’t stop speculations about what happened to the former golden couple of Maryland sports, who met in a Cockeysville nightclub in 1983. Cal, who moved to Annapolis in 2015, didn’t comment publicly on the matter—but through her legal team, Kelly did. “Kelly has been a great mother . . . and a wonderful, faithful wife for the duration of the parties’ relationship, which lasted more than 30 years,” said Sanford Ain, Kelly’s lawyer. While gossips were left to parse that statement for clues, the Ripkens tied up loose ends, listing their sprawling 25-acre Reisterstown home for a cool $12.5 million in September.

“Everybody continues to go along in life in a way we all do, I suppose.”

—Cal Ripken commenting on his family life to The Baltimore Sun before the split was announced.

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Forgive us if cynicism sets in when a new restaurant purports to have captured the culinary soul of an entire continent. Cooking styles and gastric sensibilities can vary greatly from region to region, let alone from country to country, so when Points South Latin Kitchen opened earlier this year in the previous home of Anastasia, we were a bit skeptical. Two visits to the restaurant, which has been beautifully revamped into a festive, two-level space with multiple dining rooms and bars, erased our doubts. Owner/managing partner Bryson Keens and chef Scott Stauber have created a menu that’s inspired by the spirit of South and Central American cuisine, but doesn’t feel confined by it. Take the Costillas de Res en Asado Negro—beef short ribs that are braised in chocolate sauce. The meat arrived so tender we could—and did—cut it with a spoon. In the hands of a lesser chef, the dish could easily be gimmicky, but here, the hint of bitterness combined with the sweetness only enhanced the meat’s flavor.

Ten small plates featured on the dinner menu range in ambition—and price. We can imagine eating the wonderful Carimanolas—fried croquettes filled with yucca mash and ground beef—on the streets of Panama City or Bogota, where they’re popular. The
Cangrejo y Aguacate, chunks of lump crab and avocado served on a crispy yucca cake, seems a bit sophisticated (and at $16 for one, a bit too pricey) for street food. Crab purists might object to its mojo sauce, which some may feel overpowers the crab’s natural taste, but we found it to be a tangy twist on the local favorite.

Nightly meat, seafood, and fried whole-fish specials highlight the entree selections. We opted for a bowl of bouillabaisse, which arrived piping hot and filled with generous portions of shelled mussels, clams, shrimp, and large pieces of snapper. Its lime broth was refreshingly subtle. Another staple in many Latin countries is grilled chicken, and Stauber’s take is solidly spiced. Chimichurri, a green sauce associated with Argentina and usually made of chopped parsley, minced garlic, oregano, and oil or vinegar, provides a nice acidity to the crispy skin. The bird comes with Peruvian-style potatoes, an addictively good salad of Amarillo cheese sauce, eggs, and olives that is served warm.

The cocktail program includes several variations of a margarita. Our favorite was the signature combination of whiskey, spiced pear, ginger liqueur, and fresh citrus that’s mixed and bottled daily. Having more than one can transform your tame dinner into a fiesta, during which you’ll feel right at home among the restaurant’s colorful murals and mosaics. Despite its price point (near the upper echelon of Fells Point restaurants), a relaxed atmosphere envelops Points South, which succeeds in paying homage to, rather than trying to rigidly replicate, the food and drink of our neighbors to the south.

POINTS SOUTH LATIN KITCHEN 1640 Thames St., 443-563-2018. HOURS Sun. 11 a.m.-4 p.m. Lunch: Mon.-Sat. 11 a.m.-3 p.m. Dinner: Mon.-Wed. 5-10 p.m., Thu.-Sat. 5-10:30 p.m. CUISINE Latin American. PRICES Small plates: $12-17; entrees: $26-36; sides: $8. ATMOSPHERE Latin flair.

When Dr. Wayne Scott Andersen built his new home, he envisioned it as more than just a place to hang his hat. For The New York Times best-selling author, and co-founder of Medifast weight-loss program Take Shape for Life, it was to be an expression of Andersen’s philosophies of healthy living.

“We designed this to be a focal place where we could bring leaders from all over the country, as well as for the corporation,” he says.

While the home—which Andersen shares with his wife, Lori, their two teenage daughters, and two Labradors—needed to be expansive enough to host as many as 200 event guests, as well as accommodate Andersen’s business activities (such as filming live broadcasts), it also needed to be intimate enough that their daughters could feel comfortable bringing friends over to hang out.

An outdoor patio and fireplace fusing the indoors with the outside.

A hallway’s unique lighting

To create the Lloyd Wright feeling that the home grew up from the landscape, Purple Cherry relied on natural exterior materials of mixed stone and stucco, paired with Spanish mahogany trim and a slate roof with copper trim. Gently grading the exterior grounds, which are complemented by natural plantings by landscape architect Kevin Campion, added to the structure’s sense of belonging to the land. In addition to placing two rain gardens on the property to mitigate storm water, about 100 trees were planted to help combat erosion, as well as more than 3,000 native grasses and perennials.

A custom-designed hammered-copper front door ushers people inside, where volumes of glass are used to bring the outside in. Nowhere is this more striking than in the three-story, cantilevered stairway that floats in a column of windows. It is adorned with an equally magnificent 30-foot light custom made by the New York-based glass collective Shakùff, and features more than 25 handblown LED glass fixtures.

“It is the centerpiece,” says Purple Cherry, who designed the staircase and worked with Gutierrez Studios on its execution. “The stair is stunning and a very complicated mathematical and structural element.”

A custom-designed hammered-copper front door.

The three-story, cantilevered stairway is adorned with 30-foot custom-made lighting.

The home’s interior is equally rich, with natural materials including hand-rubbed walnut floors and Douglas fir built-ins designed by the architect.

Andersen loves the natural ambience of wood-burning fireplaces—there are five in all, each featuring striking stone surrounds—and they’re in use nearly every day all winter. While the fireplaces may look flush against the walls in each room, the architect cantilevered each slightly, so they can be seen to best advantage.

Not surprisingly, considering his line of work, Andersen and his family eat a healthy, mostly plant-based diet, and the kitchen design reflects that. It has lots of preparation areas and a sink designated for vegetables that has its own disposal, so vegetables aren’t washed in the cleanup sink where bacteria could cause cross-contamination. There’s a built-in pot filler, which is particularly useful for preparing soups. Even appliance selections were made with an eye for good health, from the ceramic-based infrared range to the two dishwashers—one always clean, one dirty—so there’s always clean and sanitized dishware.

The five fireplaces each feature striking stone surrounds.

A view of the kitchen.

To give the home the expansive quality it needs for large events, much of the living area is an open plan, basically a large great room. While Andersen liked the idea of a media room, he did not want to go to a separate, dark place to plug in. So Purple Cherry built the television into the fireplace’s stone mosaic surround and hid it behind a piece of art Andersen purchased in Colorado. The four panels, featuring three horses, retract to display the television. In nice weather, a 27-foot NanaWall can fold back to combine into one great room, dining-kitchen space, and the exterior porch.

So can a big home like this get too big? Not if you’re careful about the statement each room makes, Anderson believes.

“Homes of this size can be intimidating,” he says, “but this is designed to be a comfortable, soothing place.”

For large events, much of the living area is an open plan, basically a large great room.

Purple Cherry built the television into the fireplace’s stone mosaic surround and hid it behind a piece of art Andersen purchased in Colorado.

A local tech entrepreneur is trying to curb the massive spike in deaths related to the opioid epidemic one text at a time.

The Bad Batch Alert app is made for heroin addicts and their loved ones and essentially notifies them of any bad batches of opioids in the area. When an abnormal amount of overdoses in a neighborhood is detected, a text is sent out alerting users that a bad batch is in the area.

“It’s similar to an Amber Alert,” says creator Mike LeGrand, who started up Code In Schools in order to spread computer science education around Baltimore.

With the help of six teens and one mentor from that program, they started up Bad Batch Alert in October. He says, “Loved ones might use it, because they often care more about the people in the grips of addiction, than the people themselves do.”

In order to receive an alert, you must provide a phone number, which could initially be a turnoff for some users who don’t want to be tracked. “The app is an SMS app, not something you download from the App Store,” says LeGrand. He offers assurance that this app is meant to help and not catch people in the act.

“All phone numbers are encrypted, so they can’t be tracked back,” he says. “Also keep in mind that signing up doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re a user because a lot of friends and family of users will sign up in order to protect the user they know from dying.”

Whenever there’s an overdose, the local EMS is alerted and paramedics fill out the proper paperwork. After that, this information goes to the Baltimore City Health Department and, if there is an abnormal number of overdoses in an area, that information then goes over to the Bad Batch Alert app, which triggers an alert to go out to all of its subscribers.

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“A lot of these users are isolated, so them having access to this app could save their lives,” says LeGrand. More than 700 people a year die from opioid overdoses in Baltimore City, and a huge part of that is caused by Fentanyl, a powerful drug typically used as an anesthetic or pain medicine, being laced into batches of heroin.

According to health commissioner Dr. Leana Wen, the Health Department strives to recruit “members of Baltimore’s thriving technology and design communities to address local public health challenges.”

Dr. Wen explains that reaching out to local tech companies with health interests isn’t new to them. “Baltimore is known for public health and for tech and design,” she says. “We want to increase awareness of potentially dangerous substances and provide resources to help with treatment and recovery.”

The Bad Batch Alert team is happy with their growth, as the app hit 200 registered users this past July, and LeGrand mentions plans of these alerts eventually growing to be statewide.

“I took a leave of absence from my job to work on this product,” he says “and I don’t regret it.”

Some people jiggle their leg—others click their pens or doodle in their notepads. Fidgeting and finding outlets to control these ticks aren’t new, but there is a trendy toy that has spun its way into the hands of consumers everywhere to help channel these urges. 

A fidget spinner is a palm-sized toy that has a central core and usually 2-3 propeller-like blades that users can spin with two fingers. The kid’s toy is said to relieve nervous energy, even calming ADHD and psychological stress.

“They really came fast out of nowhere,” said Flora Stelzer, co-owner of Shananigans Toy Shop in Roland Park, whose original supply of fidget spinners didn’t last long before they had to order more. “We would get 10 phone calls a day from people asking us to look for them. We had kids line up after school waiting for them.”

Stelzer says the popularity started for her store in April, when kids ages 6-14 would ask for the toy in high demand.

But, in reality, the origin for the fidget spinner dates back further. While there is no clear inventor of the product, Catherine Hettinger is cited as being the creator of the toy by The New York Times and The Guardian because of a “spinning toy” she got a patent for in 1997. But Hettinger acknowledges that there is no concrete connection between her own invention and the fidget spinner.

The little gadget has taken over the Internet and is sold by everywhere from Amazon to street vendors. Videos of fidget spinner tricks have gone viral, with one YouTube video garnering more than 42 million views.

Unlike most toys that have had their five minutes of fame (think slime or hoverboards), these spinners claim to actually be helpful to users rather than solely existing for entertainment. 

Dr. Pilar Trelles, a psychiatrist at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, acknowledges the benefits in an interview with health.com and encourages using gadgets like this along with actual treatments. Trelles admits that the effectiveness of these spinners depend on each individuals place on anxiety/autism/ADHD spectrums, so it won’t work for everyone. 

One post on Amazon furthers this and claims that they can be “helpful for anxiety, focusing, ADHD, autism, quitting bad habits, staying awake. Definitely a blessing for someone with a nervous disorder where keeping the hands busy is a symptom.”

While fidget spinners have primarily been used as entertainment or an anxiety reducer, they can also be a source of scientific inspiration. Such is the case for artist C. Harvey, the mobile maker manager at Open Works in Greenmount West.

Coming from an engineering background, Harvey noticed that there weren’t enough high quality and relevant STEM programs for black youth so she wanted to introduce 3D printing technology, in a way that was non-intimidating and relatable to their lives.

“These kids don’t relate to making sailboats or robots, so I asked them what they would want to invent if they had 5 million dollars and they said fidget spinners,” Harvey said.

So with 3D printing pens in hand, Harvey went over to a local recreation center to meet with kids K-8 and that’s exactly what they did. The kids were excited to make their own spinners, and learned a lot about how to use advanced technology the entire time.

With that said, not everyone has such a positive attitude towards these toys. Though many find the spinning to be calming, others find the spinning to be incredibly distracting. So much so that schools and some individual teachers from multiple states including Florida, Connecticut, and New York have already banned these toys from classrooms.

According to a report on WMAR, spokesmen for the Baltimore County and Anne Arundel County Public School systems say they haven’t experienced any problems to impose a similar district-wide ban.

Though this gadget seems to be taking the world by storm, Stelzer at Shananigans is sure that this is only a fad. She laughs and says, “they’ll be on to something else soon, maybe even by the time you print this.”

For thousands of years—and until as recently as the late 1800s—the fireplace was all about function: cooking, warmth, even light. Now, in most homes, it’s more about form—a mantel that lives on as a warm and welcoming vestige of yesteryear. But it has more potential than that, says Mark Melonas.

He should know—the owner and designer at Baltimore’s Luke Works, Melonas has created several custom concrete fireplace surrounds—“surrounds” being the design and construction elements around the fireplace opening.

“People often miss an opportunity for design with fireplaces,” says Melonas.

The style and design of a fireplace—from the sleek, modern lines of a linear gas insert to the rustic statement of a mantel made from reclaimed wood—dictate the feel not just of the fireplace, but of the whole room. We found a few examples of homeowners making the most of their fireplaces, envisioning each one more as a blank canvas than just a hole in the wall.

A Custom Art Piece

William Hamilton and Paula Jackson hired James Battaglia of Sandtown Millworks to create the reclaimed wood mantel for the fireplace in their historic Bolton Hill row home. The drywall around the fireplace was bare and smoke-stained, so the couple reached out to artist and designer Amber Nelson to create a tile surround.

After visiting the home, Nelson decided a hand-glazed tile would fit the transitional feel of a modern home in a historic neighborhood. The warm brown and gold colors she chose contrast, yet also coordinate, with the room’s existing colors, while craftsman-style tiles manufactured by Michigan-based Motawi Tileworks fit with the rustic mantel and help to “marry the past and the present” in the space, she says.

“I thought about who they are, where they lived, the things they enjoy as a couple, and the art they had on their walls,” Nelson says. “What they needed was not a design, but rather art.”

The final idea came to Nelson while looking out a panoramic window from The 13th Floor, then a cocktail bar in Mount Vernon’s historic Belvedere hotel with a view of the city. “I saw the city in all of its glory, with the sky all lit up,” Nelson recalls. “I had my ‘aha’ moment. I was going to use the tiles to ‘paint’ a silhouette of the cityscape with a golden sky.”

A Textural Focal Point

When their ’90s-era home in the Hobbits Glen neighborhood of Columbia was in need of updates, Jim and Jackie Melonas were eager to give it a makeover to better suit their modern taste. As the couple tore out trim and updated fixtures, they decided the see-through gas fireplace—with a dated cream-painted wood mantel and green marble fireplace surround—needed a fresh look, too. So they turned to their son, Mark, to create a custom, asymmetrical mantel out of textured, molded concrete.

Concrete offers a design freedom unmatched by traditional fireplace materials like stone or tile, which come in standard sizes and thicknesses, says Melonas. “We can cast it differently, or in a different mold material, and achieve a unique surface, because the concrete takes the surface of whatever we cast it against,” he says. While the design is the same on both sides of the see-through fireplace—asymmetrically placed horizontal beams above and below the fire, with thick vertical columns on each side—the eat-in kitchen side has greater depth and texture. By pouring the concrete from the top into a smooth, vertical mold, Melonas captured the concrete’s vertical movement in the surface. To achieve the texture on the top and bottom pieces, he created a mold box out of roughly hewn oak boards.

The new fireplace’s sleek lines set the tone for the room, which the family has updated with modern furniture.

“It was a really dramatic change, and because you can see it when you walk in the door, it certainly becomes a destination in the room,” Melonas says. “People haven’t seen a fireplace surround that looks anything like that, so they walk right up to it and rub the corners.”

A Luxury Entertainment Center

Located on Aliceanna Street in Fells Point, Belinda and Michael Stern’s four-story townhome has an open, industrial design atypical of the area’s historic row homes and cobblestone streets. High ceilings, large windows, and floating stairs contribute to the space’s airy feel, which encompasses the living room, dining room, and kitchen on one floor.

“The previous owners had a gas fireplace sitting in the middle of this huge, empty wall,” recalls Belinda Stern. “We hated it.” After tearing out the old unit, the couple embarked on a yearlong journey to design a custom fireplace and entertainment center with the help of Timonium-based Gramophone, the entertainment-system firm.

Happy with the design but looking for unique materials, the Sterns also turned to installer Bill Mavroulis of Elite Home Design—and, again, designer Amber Nelson of Architectural Ceramics—to complete the project. Nelson selected statement-making 32-inch-square porcelain tiles to surround the linear gas fireplace insert, while Mavroulis ordered quarter-sawn wood from 100-year-old Montana maples to build out the connected media furniture piece to the right of the fireplace.

“We wanted a little bit of storage, but we wanted to keep the feel open,” Stern explains. “[The design] was like a living, breathing entity as we went along.” Copper Formica, joined with painted upholstery pins to mimic a ship’s sheathing, covers the wall behind the state-of-the-art TV, while suede sourced from Tandy Leather in Essex lines the entertainment center’s drawers and cubby holes.

“Everyone who walks into the room goes right to it,” Stern says. “They are fascinated and they really can tell that a lot of love went into it.”

Shot on location at Tea on the Tiber. Small gem vase ($12) at Trohv. Glass plate, 7 inches ($5.50) at Trohv. Glass plate, 6 inches ($4) at Trohv. Artisan luster glass tealight holder ($5) at Trohv. Agate table top ($265) at Trohv. Forest votive holder ($11) at Trohv. Lilla mercury tealight holder ($10.50) at Trohv. B. Willow Tillandsia air plant ($40) at Trohv. Large Linea pillar candle ($22) at Trohv. Medium Linea pillar candle ($16) at Trohv. Tea cups, tea pot, tiered tray, silverware, & finger foods courtesy of Tea on the Tiber. Flowers courtesy of Steelcut Flower Co.

“I tell you, it was totally liberating,” says Chang Woo Lee.

The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra associate principal cellist is talking about her move from a 6,026-square-foot house in Guilford to this much smaller 1,613-square-foot home in rural Glenwood in Howard County.

Although Lee describes the downsizing as a major undertaking—she and husband Kirk Laughton sold and donated a majority of their possessions, including a collection of Korean and Japanese antique furniture—she found it surprisingly easy to pare down their belongings to the essentials. “I’m not a sentimental person,” says Lee. “I can be very practical. I say, ‘These are things. I don’t have to keep everything.’”

A sleek design is punctuated by eclectic pieces of art.

Even the bathroom merits art.

“This is the first major antique piece that we purchased, about 35 years ago,” Lee recalls, cradling a 17th century Korean vase in her hands. “It has a lot of character,” she says, running her thumb over brush strokes depicting a full moon. The couple picked up the piece on a trip to South Korea, where Lee was born and lived until she was offered a scholarship from the University of Indiana in 1970 to study with legendary cellist Janos Starker. Her family remains in Korea, save her three children and one nephew, who live in Ellicott City.

On the coffee table, a pair of vibrantly painted Iznik ceramics returned with the couple from a trip to Istanbul. A bronze sculpture of a female figure at rest by Baltimore artist and Maryland Institute College of Art alumnus Reuben Kramer was acquired to mark their 20th wedding anniversary.

“All our friends said, ‘You should go to Paris,’ and we thought maybe we might do that, but then we found this,” Lee recalls, eyeing the sculpture fondly.

But it’s the couple’s own art that reveals their eclectic spirit. In the master bedroom, alongside the functional mint- and black-colored cello cases, one case stands out. No, it’s no longer in use, but it has graduated to oeuvre d’art. It’s a heavy plywood case with every inch covered with photos of sultry models, clipped from the pages of Vogue magazine. “Isn’t that fun? My husband and I made that in 1984,” Lee says. “I put the sassiest one on the bottom,” says Laughton, pointing to a scantily clad woman in a black bustier, “so if you’re walking behind her as she carries the case, you see it.”

The decoupage creation stood out among the ubiquitous black cases of the day. “People who have been around long enough to remember ask me if I still have it. I’m going to auction it when I retire,” Lee jokes.

Nestled at the end of a long driveway, the first turn onto the property gives a taste of Lee’s design style, which she describes playfully as “easy modern living, with some funkiness.” Among the first things to greet you visually are the energetic lines of a bold, Alexander Calder-inspired metal sculpture installed on the front lawn.

From the outside, the home has the look of a modern cabin, with wood siding and three-sided deck helping it to blend into the trees. Despite the limited square footage, windows on three sides of the great room bring the outside in, with a sliding door leading to a spacious wooden deck that feels like a seamless extension of the living space. It’s the tall windows and vaulted ceilings of this wide-open room—which encompasses the kitchen, living, and dining areas—that sold Lee on the unique residence.

After cosmetic updates completed over the course of a few years (like replacing wall-to-wall carpeting with dark hardwood and painting over a “sunset in the South Sea”-style mural in the master bedroom), the home has come to feel like a sanctuary, Lee says.

In keeping with her modern and funky aesthetic, a sleek, clean design scheme is punctuated by eclectic pieces of art that survived the couple’s serious downsizing.

“This is the first major antique piece that we purchased, about 35 years ago,” Lee recalls, cradling a 17th century Korean vase in her hands. “It has a lot of character,” she says, running her thumb over brush strokes depicting a full moon. The couple picked up the piece on a trip to South Korea, where Lee was born and lived until she was offered a scholarship from the University of Indiana in 1970 to study with legendary cellist Janos Starker. Her family remains in Korea, save her three children and one nephew, who live in Ellicott City.

On the coffee table, a pair of vibrantly painted Iznik ceramics returned with the couple from a trip to Istanbul. A bronze sculpture of a female figure at rest by Baltimore artist and Maryland Institute College of Art alumnus Reuben Kramer was acquired to mark their 20th wedding anniversary.

“All our friends said, ‘You should go to Paris,’ and we thought maybe we might do that, but then we found this,” Lee recalls, eyeing the sculpture fondly.

But it’s the couple’s own art that reveals their eclectic spirit. In the master bedroom, alongside the functional mint- and black-colored cello cases, one case stands out. No, it’s no longer in use, but it has graduated to oeuvre d’art. It’s a heavy plywood case with every inch covered with photos of sultry models, clipped from the pages of Vogue magazine. “Isn’t that fun? My husband and I made that in 1984,” Lee says. “I put the sassiest one on the bottom,” says Laughton, pointing to a scantily clad woman in a black bustier, “so if you’re walking behind her as she carries the case, you see it.”

The decoupage creation stood out among the ubiquitous black cases of the day. “People who have been around long enough to remember ask me if I still have it. I’m going to auction it when I retire,” Lee jokes.

To Lee, the home will always be a work in progress. “Nothing is permanent for me,” she says. “The important thing is you keep editing.”

It’s not so different from her work as a musician. “When practicing, if I don’t like the way this sounds or I don’t like the phrasing, then I would have to come up with a new solution,” she says. “I would call that editing, as well, you see?”

For an accomplished musician who has performed as a soloist with orchestras around the world and coached many young cellists into professional careers, Lee’s home rehearsal space is humble. “I practice where that chair is,” she says, pointing to a simple, wooden chair and sheet-metal music stand in the corner of the great room. “I just love playing in this open space, and looking out the windows,” she says, comparing the acoustics here to a concert hall. “My dream is that someday I will invite all the cellists and we will have a cello ensemble here.”

MOVING ON: My husband and I lived in Bolton Hill for the past seven years, and moved to this house about a year and a half ago. We liked this area because you could buy a single-family home and it was one of the only parts of the city that was racially diverse. When we bought the house, it had basically been flipped and remodeled, so all we’ve done is re-paint and replace the pillars on the front porch.

LISTEN TO YOUR ART: Different contemporary artists inspire me. I research art and art history all the time.

PLAYING FAVORITES: I like to use certain products like Farrow & Ball or Benjamin Moore paints, because I like their quality and viscosity. The ceiling in the living room is painted with Farrow & Ball’s “arsenic” color, which is a historical hue that the impressionists used. It actually used to be poisonous, so Farrow & Ball reproduced it in an obviously nonpoisonous capacity.

FOLLOW ALONG: A lot of my style is based off of my understanding of art history, but I definitely look at blogs like Design Sponge. I also follow a lot of people on Instagram, like Emily Henderson—she’s a stylist for Target—and Justina Blakeney.

DO IT YOURSELF: Tiles are a big obsession of mine. I really want Islamic tiles, which come in eight different shapes that you put together to create an Islamic arabesque. The problem is that I want them in all white and I haven’t found anyone who does that, so I’ve been thinking of making them myself.

ANTIQUE APPRECIATION: I shop almost exclusively at Goodwill, on Craigslist, and in antique stores, but I get some things from places like HomeGoods, Target, and Ikea. I really love Goodwill, especially the Timonium location, because I always find really nice pieces there that I can buy for like $4. Then I have a high-quality item that I don’t have to worry about something happening to. I am also constantly scouring Etsy and other websites for vintage textiles.

LOCAL FLAVOR: I’ve been collecting artwork for a very long time, that’s my passion. Some of it is done by me, but a lot of it is by local artists or friends of mine who are also local. Most of the art in the house is done by women. I’m really focused on buying art from individuals I know and want to support.

RARE FIND: I found this Byzantine space heater at a flea market in Western Maryland and I was just obsessed with it. I was like, “I need this enormous brass thing.” You can use it to make Turkish coffee, but we’ve never actually done that.

COUNTING SHEEP: I love sheepskin and I have them in many rooms. When I was little, my great aunt and uncle spent a lot of time in Australia and brought back sheepskin for us, so maybe it’s just the memory of that. But also, texturally, it’s just neutral and nice to mix in with things. I hope my house isn’t starting to look like Game of Thrones.

CHEAP DREAMS: I have lived here for about four years, starting out as a tenant. I loved it so much I managed to buy the whole building. This is the closest thing to me living my New York loft fantasy with less zeros in the price tag.

IT TAKES A VILLAGE: We hold the SoWeBo Arts and Music Festival here each year and we have a very active community association. We certainly have our issues, but I’ve found that this neighborhood has the strongest sense of community over any other place I have ever lived.

HEAVY LIFTING: I bought the motorcycle from a place in Staten Island. The original intent was to work on it during the winter and then be able to ride it in the summer. I had five friends help me carry it up the stairs, which was incredibly foolish. Now everyone refuses to ever touch it again so it’s been stuck in my apartment ever since.

LEFT HANGING: My family spends a lot of time in Mexico and my sister brought me back the hammock. All I really need is a palm tree and I’m set.

INTO THE BLUE: The blue sofa is one of the first pieces of furniture I ever bought when I got my first real job. I’ve been carrying it with me ever since. It’s nice to finally now have a space where it fits properly.

ACQUIRED TASTE: It took me quite a while to collect all of my artwork. I lived in Argentina for a while so some of it comes from there. Some of it comes from New York City, but much of it is from Baltimore, which has a lot of very talented artists and a fantastic art scene.

PICTURE PERFECT: My favorite piece is over in the dining area by a New York artist named John Copeland. Space wise, it was made for this apartment.

SHOP LOCAL: There are two local pieces I really love, one by Pablo Machioli, who is originally from South America, and some others by Bat Favitsou Boulandi.

HIDDEN GEM: I have many pieces from Umri Siki, the African art store on the ground floor of this building. It’s run by Robert Williams, who has amazing stuff from places like Congo and Benin.

SHELF LIFE: I knew I needed a bookcase and after thinking about it for over a year and having my books scattered all over the place, I had the metal framework manufactured down in Pigtown. I bought old planks of wood from Second Chance for the shelves and now I have a bookcase. I stained the wood to match the existing wood. What I like about it most is that it looks like it was always there.

WHILE IT’S TRUE THAT PLANET EARTH isn’t actually orbiting any faster than usual (67,000 miles an hour, last time we clocked it), life on Planet Baltimore can feel like a whirlwind. Every day brings a new reality—from neighborhoods being built out of thin air to burgeoning businesses and a constant influx of power players. Nowhere is this warp speed more apparent than on the ever expanding food scene, which shows no signs of slowing down.

“Food trends used to move a lot more slowly before the internet and the rise of this current world of food media,’’ says food and beverage trend expert Kara Nielsen. “People are thinking about food and excited about food in a way we haven’t seen in recent history.’’

As much as we love the explosion, it can be dizzying to decide how best to spend our dining dollars. (According to the National Restaurant Association, there are 11,100 eating and drinking spots in Maryland.) If you’re hungry (and who isn’t?), there’s never been a better time to tap into the culinary Zeitgeist. Steamed buns are all the rage, pizza is proliferating, doughnuts are dominating, and bar food is having a moment.

“With the millennials as one of the biggest audiences buying food,’’ says Nielsen, “we’ll see their interests and values reflected in the trends—exploring and celebrating other cultures, being excited about things that are artisanal or authentic, big sensory flavors, and a good dose of indulgence.’’

On these pages, we explore the 10 trends you need to know about now and the up-and-coming tastemakers who are helping to shape the scene. We also take the pulse of what’s hot—and what’s not—and explore the science of table trends with a foodie forecaster.

Word of warning: Whatever you discover, the nature of trends is that they rise—and they recede. So don’t get overly attached. The Next Big Thing is always waiting in the wings, while another may be on the verge of extinction. So, in the ever fickle, blink-and-you-miss-it world of food, catch these trends at area tables while you can.

Naked Lunch at MOM’s Organic Market

Food that’s good for you can sometimes taste like a dose of medicine. But that’s never the case at the Naked Lunch cafe inside MOM’s Organic Market in Hampden, where seemingly humble ingredients graduate to star status. At lunchtime, queue up for a bodacious sushi bowl with brown rice, miso-roasted tofu, avocado, seaweed, and ginger-sesame dressing. Want to make the memory linger? Browse the miles of aisles to shop for ingredients to re-create the whole shebang at home. 711 W. 40th St., 667-219-2500

The Green Bowl

Bibimbap, mofongo, tostones: Is this a spelling bee or are these menu items from The Green Bowl? We love everything about this Asian/Latin-inspired food truck and its health-conscious cuisine. We’re convinced that the spinach and greens with bean sprouts, carrots, zucchini, and a fried egg will add years to your life. thegreenbowlfoodtruck.com

Zia’s Cafe

If you have a dietary need—be it vegan, vegetarian, gluten-free, or paleo—Zia’s has you covered. Smoothies and 100 percent raw cold-pressed juices are menu highlights here. The macaroon smoothie with bananas, dates, raw cacao, maca, coconut, and almond milk tastes sinful but is anything but. Want more of a meal? Go for the Firecracker Wrap with avocado, apples, arugula, jalapeños, and a hit of horseradish for extra heat. Two locations including 13 Allegheny Ave., Towson, 410-296-0799

On the Go Organics

This new Fells Point raw-foods vegan takeout spot features plant-based pressed juices, wraps (we heart the lettuce wraps with collards as the coat), and tasty gourmet desserts. Owner Dwayne Copeland, who apprenticed in California, is a wealth of raw-food knowledge. 600 S. Wolfe St., 415-265-7650

Das Bier Haus

Nowhere is the beer-and-brat trend more evident than the corner Federal Hill bar Das Bier Haus, which opened this past January. The bar fits the bill with more than 60 beers available, including an extensive list of German varieties. For authenticity’s sake (and to make it way more fun), the beers come in half-liter, liter, and two-, three-, or four-liter “das boot” glasses. The pairing wouldn’t be complete without pork or veal sausages from local Binkert’s German Meat Products, served properly with sauerkraut and house-cut fries. 1542 Light St., 443-708-8854

Blue Pit BBQ & Whiskey Bar

While Blue Pit certainly has perfected its barbecue and whiskey selections, the general vibe (especially outside and upstairs) reminds us of a traditional German beer hall. Enjoy a smoked Union Anthem bratwurst, choose from some 50 craft beers, and sit at a communal picnic table to clink drinks with strangers. 1601 Union Ave., 443-948-5590

Snake Hill

How fitting that Snake Hill is across the street from the building that once housed legendary German restaurant Haussner’s. Though there isn’t quite as much art on the walls, Snake Hill pays homage by serving sausage from local makers like Polock Johnny’s and Fat City Craft Meat Co. Innovative toppings result in Vietnamese, Italian, and Peruvian-inspired offerings. Plus, the beer list always feels current and creative. 418 S. Clinton St., 410-469-9003

Brew House No. 16

Though there’s a full menu at this Mount Vernon firehouse-turned-brewpub, the sausage is always a good bet. We love the apple-walnut chicken or the house-made Thuringer-style pork served on a pretzel roll with sauerkraut and sweet hot mustard. Wash it down with a house beer (bonus: owner Ian Hummel studied brewing in Germany) or a crisp Hofbräu München wheat. 831 N. Calvert St., 410-659-4084

Alma Cocina Latina

Walk into this light-filled spot in the Can Company in Canton, and a jungle of plants bursts forth in bloom, while the sound of salsa sets the mood. Don’t feel like you’re in Baltimore? Owner Irena Stein envisioned this refuge from the ordinary and plucked chef Enrique Limardo from her native Venezuela to bring a taste of her motherland to our ’hood. Sidle up to the arepa bar for corn-flour patties bursting with salty ham and caramelized plantains, and imagine that you’re in a lush Latin American locale. Or savor a superb ceviche and feel like you’re on a beach along the Caribbean coast. 2400 Boston St., 667-212-4273

Brown Rice

We love the make-your-own approach, and this rice-bowl emporium brings Eastern flavors to the mix—from spicy, garlicky beef bulgogi to piquant kimchi. Start with a base—which runs the gamut from jasmine rice to kale salad—then pick a protein, and top it off with a variety of veggies. (Pimp your rice with the radish kimchi and shiitake mushrooms.) Add a sauce and, perhaps, a runny egg, to truly branch out your bowl. Two locations including 2404 N. Charles St., 667-303-3256

Ariana Kabob Grill

Never underestimate the power of fare from a food court. At this no-frills spot inside Charles Plaza, the meat is manna. From juicy, sunset-hued chicken kebabs to unexpectedly tender gyro meat, these Middle Eastern flavors awaken the palate with spices that rise on the tongue before being cooled by rice rife with carrots and raisins and a side of tzatziki. 222 N. Charles St., 443-858-1045

Cuba de Ayer

Yes, it’s easier than ever to fly to Cuba from Baltimore these days, but this Latin comfort-food spot (though a bit of a drive) is the next best thing. Consider the succulent oxtail stew and melt-in-your-mouth roast pork known here as pernil. But if you do one thing, order the camarones en aguacate appetizer: shrimp atop an avocado throne drenched in white wine, garlic, and butter. 15446 Old Columbia Pike, Burtonsville, 301-476-9622

Taps Fill Station

From its name to its practice, Taps Fill Station in Mt. Vernon Marketplace has simplified the way we drink. All of Taps’ liquid lovelies are available in draft form, including beer, wine, cider, mead, nitro cold-brew coffee, and even olive oil. The bar makes everything feel more hip. (Our coffee looks and drinks a bit more like a Guinness here.) Plus, everything is available in flights (4-ounce pours of beer and 2-ounce portions for everything else), so we can sample instead of having to commit. Even the simple red-and-white color scheme, with bulbous lights imploring us to “taste,” “order,” and “relax,” forces us to sit back and enjoy the moment. 520 Park Ave., 484-998-8277

Bookmakers Cocktail Club

Bookmakers is always up on the newest cocktail trends, so it’s no surprise that it’s the only bar in the world with Chartreuse Episcopale on draft. The spirit is a fusion of green and yellow Charteuse, a French liqueur with notes of mint (green) and saffron (yellow). The elixir is 47.5-percent ABV and, even just in 1.4-ounce portions, it gives you a very special buzz. 31 E. Cross St., 443-438-4039

Barcocina

Barcocina not only boasts modern twists on Mexican food but also a modern way to pour drinks. With two taps for cocktails and four for wine, the bar features concoctions like the house margarita and Barcocina Lemonade with cucumber-lime vodka, cucumber liqueur, jalapeño simple syrup, lemon juice, and club soda. We can’t think of a more perfect pairing for Barcocina’s picturesque water view. 1629 Thames St., 410-563-8800

Liquid Lib’s

This bar, adjacent to Liberatore’s in a Timonium business park, may not seem like much at first. But buy a wine card (in increments of $10) and peruse its selections of 16 self-pouring taps in the corner. Organized with white wines and clear liquors on the left and reds and darks on the right, the system allows guests to pour to their hearts’ content. 9515 Deereco Road, Timonium, 410-666-8466

Iron Rooster

Although Iron Rooster serves lunch and dinner options, the focus is all-day breakfast, and the brunch offerings encompass everything from brûléed ruby-red grapefruit and breakfast tacos to various Benedicts, as well as biscuits and gravy. Wet your whistle with a Bloody Mary (garnished with pickled asparagus, bacon, an olive, and Old Bay around the rim, it’s a meal unto itself). Then design your own breakfast scramble or order the fried chicken and cornmeal waffles smothered in gravy. Get a refill on your coffee. Sit. Stay. The day is young. Two locations, including 3721 Boston St., 410-762-2100

Bistro Rx

Bistro Rx adds just enough inventiveness to rise-and-shine classics to keep things interesting for repeat customers. The shrimp and grits is a go-to, but if we could only order one dish, we’d choose the breakfast flatbread, topped with bacon, chorizo, tasso ham, white cheddar, and a pile of scrambled eggs. It’s perfect for sharing—in person or on Instagram. 2901 E. Baltimore St., 410-276-0820

Weekend brunch at Ejji Ramen includes this noodle bowl with bacon and corn broth plus sausage, applewood-smoked bacon, a poached egg, tamago (mini omelet squares), and corn.

Ejji Ramen

The Japanese practically invented the one-dish meal, and the Breakfast Ramen Bowl at Ejji Ramen carries on this proud tradition. On weekends, snag a stool at the Belvedere Square Market and order this noodle bowl boasting bacon and corn broth plus sausage, applewood-smoked bacon, a poached egg, tamago (mini omelet squares), and corn. If this doesn’t start your day off right, nothing will. 529 E. Belvedere Ave., 410-435-8688

Dovecote Cafe

This artsy Reservoir Hill cafe makes everything in house, so the rotating weekend brunch menu is understandably compact. That said, what it lacks in quantity it more than makes up for in quality. Recent choices ranged from crab mac and cheese to an exquisite mixed-berry fruit tart that elicited instant ordering envy from nearby noshers. 2501 Madison Ave., #1F, 443-961-8677

Mt. Vernon Marketplace

There’s a beauty in not having to be a committed consumer when we shop here. Do we want pork dumplings at Pinch, Skinny Dippers at The Local Oyster, or a latte at Ceremony Coffee? (Duh—we want it all.) And while here, we might as well browse the trendy togs at The Tomboy Shop, pick up a dozen eggs at Fresh Mondays, and grab specialty salt from Juniper Culinary Apothecary. 520 Park Ave., 888-897-8859

Belvedere Square Market

This Govans marketplace on the site of a onetime peach orchard offers soup (at Atwater’s) to nuts (Pure Chocolate by Jinji)—and everything in between, like artisanal cheese and kombucha. Have guests to impress? Head here for aged strips from Ceriello or just the right rosé from Grand Cru. 529 E. Belvedere Ave., 410-464-9773

Modern Cook Shop

What do you get when you cross a neighborhood gourmet grocer, a coffee bar, and an upscale New American establishment with a concisely curated menu on which every item is first-rate? Andy Gruver’s thoroughly modern Modern Cook Shop, of course. With all the restaurant openings of late, it’s hard to break new ground, but Modern Cook Shop is a trailblazer. 901 S. Wolfe St., 443-627-8032

Baby’s on Fire

Listening to music has been scientifically proved to enhance diner enjoyment, so it makes perfect sense that a coffee bar cafe combined with a record store would hit a high note. The fare (paninis, salads, espresso drinks) doesn’t miss a beat and the vinyl selections for sale (Led Zeppelin, John Coltrane) are a total time warp. 1010 Morton St., 443-885-9892

Shot on location at Millstone Cellars. Flowers courtesy of Crimson & Clover Floral Design. Food and beers courtesy of Of Love & Regret. Cider courtesy of Millstone Cellars. Lanterns, basket, and blankets courtesy of Crimson & Clover Floral Design. Fisticuffs Leather koozies ($22) at Trohv. Needlepoint tablecloth ($38) at Wishbone Reserve. Beer tasting set ($29.95) at Crate & Barrel. Garden stool ($89) at Wishbone Reserve. Sir/Madam dish cloths ($27) at Trohv.

If garden bugs had lobbyists in Congress, they’d tell you many of their kind get a bad rap from gardening novices. They’d be partially right: Certain types oaf bugs play a critical role in the eco-system. So it really comes down to the question: Are they “good bugs” or “bad bugs”? Here’s a sort of police lineup on an assortment of critters you’ll find in the Mid-Atlantic region.

Ladybugs
If this common and very welcome beetle is plentiful in the summer, it’s because there are lots of aphids, mites, and other small insects to snack on. The adults of this tough, hard-shelled little species overwinter in large groups, then re-emerge around May until September.
Verdict: good bug.

Greenhouse Whitefly
There’s a “Wanted” poster out for this one: Considered to be one of the biggest pests associated with indoor plants, it also can be found in gardens in the South, the tropics, and homes throughout the U.S. The whitefly looks like a tiny moth with milky white wings and feeds on the juice from a variety of plants. It infests each host by depositing a layer of white, waxy material, which, if touched, feels more like a frothy coating that eventually suffocates the plant.
Verdict: bad bug.

Honeybees and Bumblebees
Both of these are crucial for cross-pollination in our gardens. Without bees, our gardens’ health would suffer and many species of flora would eventually perish. If you’re allergic to bee stings, admire them from a safe distance: They only sting when provoked.
Verdict: good bugs.

Japanese Beetle
The adult beetle, metallic green in color, damages leaves and ripening fruit, including vines, flowers, shrubs, and trees, as well as numerous budding roses. But cool it on the chemicals: As the beetle does its damage from late May to mid-July, it’s easiest to pick them up by hand.
Verdict: bad bug.

Daddy LongLegs
A harmless fellow with long, thin legs, daddy longlegs live on tree trunks and open ground and primarily feed on small insects and decaying organic matter. They mature in summer and are valuable to humans by keeping a variety of insects under control.
Verdict: good bug.

Aphids
These bad actors often lay their eggs on the stems of the host plant, such as roses, peas, potatoes, and apple trees, then go camouflage on you, blending in with the color of the plant. Infestation often occurs when there’s limited plant variety. In a balanced garden setting—say, a good mix of herbs and annual and perennial flowers, etc.—they do less damage. Mix up a harmless brew of one part dish soap and two parts water and spray directly onto aphids.
Verdict: bad bug.

Praying Mantis
Put away your weapon, I mean you no harm! The alien-looking, often motionless praying mantis is a wonderful bug and most beneficial to our gardens. It dines on caterpillars, flies, butterflies, bees, and some moths. It attaches its egg cases to tree limbs or shrubs in the fall, and new hatchlings, green in color, suddenly break out of their egg case on a warm, late spring day, all at once and perfectly formed, by the hundreds.
Verdict: good bug.

Giant Cicada Killer
This common, black, giant wasp drinks plant nectar, while larvae feed on cicadas. Adult females work together to dig elaborate connected tunnels in their hunt for cicadas. Then, one at a time, they sting the victim and carry it back to the nest.
Verdict: hung jury.

You see it. You like it. You buy it. But then, why, a few years later, does that piece of art end up in the attic?

Maybe because you became less enamored with it over time. Or maybe it’s no longer color-coordinated with the new couch. But buying art doesn’t have to be a throwaway affair.

“A lot of people buy ‘things’ rather than promote a decades-long conversation,” says Jeffry Cudlin, a professor at Maryland Institute College of Art. “I know a lot of people who care about decorating their homes more than about collecting art.”

If, however, you think you can get serious about collecting art for its own sake, Baltimore dealers and experts have some pointers for you that can make the experience a lot more fun and rewarding—and even (relatively) affordable.

“Older collectors say that young people aren’t interested in collecting art, but it’s because millennials are strapped for cash,” says Deana Haggag, the 29-year-old director of The Contemporary, a nomadic, non-collecting art museum. “I have no money and have amassed a lovely collection based on knowing, living, and working with artists—young artists trade.”

Even if you haven’t immersed yourself in the art world enough to make trades, there are ways to save money.

“For any beginner, the Publications and Multiples Fair that happens every March is incredibly creative and affordable,” says Haggag. “I go every year and spend way more than I should.”

Another good place to start your new life as a serious (amateur) collector is at one of the area’s less high-end galleries that showcases the work of up-and-coming local artists. One such destination is the nonprofit Creative Alliance, where it doesn’t matter if you have $10 in your pocket or are spending your way through your kids’ inheritance.

And now for the important part: Why are you buying this stuff, and how do you know it’s, you know, good art?

“Everybody has their own perspective on what is good,” says Creative Alliance exhibits and program manager Jeremy Stern, who adds that buying art is something akin to starting a new relationship. “It’s the thing that calls out to you—the one you keep going back to,” he says. After all, you’ll be sharing a home with this work of art. “It’s not, ‘What’s the best fit above your couch,’ but what compels you. And I say, don’t buy for investment purposes. The art market is so fickle,” says Stern, who creates his own artwork using maps, as well as things like clay, plastic, tacks, and drywall.

Oh, and about that kids’ inheritance you’re burning through: One local aficionado who helps better-heeled buyers navigate the art world is Amy Raehse, executive director and curator at Goya Contemporary Gallery, where artworks range in price from $1,000 to more than $500,000. She says that when a client comes into her gallery, she spends some time getting to know him or her. “People arrive at collecting for different reasons,” says Raehse, who has been at Goya since 2001. “The pleasure of investing in artwork is that there can be a monetary return and you have the joy of living with this art.”

And what makes a good buy might involve looking beyond what’s most popular. “Consider something offered by female artists, or maybe African-American and Latin-American artists. These are all good buys because these markets are gaining traction,” she says.

Who you buy from is also important. “Trust is an important part of buying art,” says Raehse. “Know the history of an organization, how they conduct their business, and how they work with artists.”

Maryland Home & Garden Show

Mar. 5-6 & Mar. 11-13. Maryland State Fairgrounds, 2200 York Rd., Timonium. Sat. 10 a.m.-9 p.m., Sun. and Fri. 10 a.m.-6 p.m. Free-$12. 410-863-1180. mdhomeandgarden.com. If you’re in search of inspiration for your next backyard project, head to this massive home expo where you can mingle with upward of 300 exhibitors and browse a wide array of unique plants and garden accessories.

The Seventh Annual Publications & Multiples Fair
Apr. 9-10. Baltimore Design School, 1500 Barclay St., 12-6 p.m. Free. openspacebaltimore.com. Art admirers are invited to collect and discuss artist publications, prints, and other objects at this annual fair. The festivities will feature displayed work by more than 100 vendors and panel discussions.

Sugarloaf Crafts Festival
Apr. 29-May 1. Maryland State Fairgrounds, 2200 York Rd., Timonium. Fri.-Sat. 10 a.m.-6 p.m., Sun. 10 a.m.-5 p.m. $8. 410-252-0200. sugarloafcrafts.com. Dubbed one of the top craft experiences in the country, this traveling festival showcases everything from pottery and photography to jewelry and home décor, all made by hundreds of nationally recognized artisans.

Catonsville Flowerfest And Garden Party
May 1. Catonsville Village, corner of Frederick Rd. and Egges Ln., Catonsville. 10 a.m.-3 p.m. Free-$10. 301-990-1400. catonsville.org. Now in its fifth year, this annual event boasts displays by local gardeners, a mini crafts fair with unique Mother’s Day gifts, food vendors, and lots of potted spring flowers for sale.

Annapolis First Sunday Arts Festival
May-Nov. Corner of Calvert and Clay Sts., Annapolis, 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Free. firstsundayarts.com. Take in the sights and sounds of the Annapolis Arts & Entertainment District every first Sunday from May through November. Plenty of local artists will be on hand to showcase their made-from-scratch creations.

Flowermart
May 6-7. Washington Monument, 699 Washington Pl. 11 a.m.-8 p.m. Free. flowermartmd.org. Soak up some sun and browse the blooming botanicals at this annual spring festival in Mt. Vernon, which features food and craft vendors and live entertainment.

Garden Festival At Ladew
May 7. Ladew Topiary Gardens, 3535 Jarrettsville Pike, Monkton. 10 a.m.-4 p.m. $15-20. 410-557-9466. ladewgardens.com. Stroll around Ladew’s picturesque grounds and explore tons of rare plants and garden ornaments for sale by some of the Mid-Atlantic’s best purveyors at this annual outdoor event.

Baltimore Herb Festival
May 28. Gwynns Falls, Leakin Park, 1920 Eagle Dr. 9:30 a.m.-3 p.m. Free-$7. baltimoreherbfestival.com. Browse locally grown goods, rub elbows with local gardening aficionados, and learn the tricks of the trade for growing your own herbs, berries, perennials, and potted plants at this massive herb fest.

Guilford Association Tulip Dig
May 28. Sherwood Gardens, 4100 St. Paul St., 7 a.m. Free. guilfordassociation.org. Grab a shovel or a spade and head to this annual spring event where you can unearth a few of the thousands of tulip bulbs and purchase them for 30 cents each.

Horticultural Society Of Maryland 25th Annual Garden Tour
June 5. Locations vary, 10 a.m.-4 p.m. Free-$40. 410-821-5561. mdhorticulture.org. Embark on this guided walking and driving tour of breathtaking gardens around Roland Park, Guilford, and Tuscany-Canterbury.

“Historically, food and music have gone hand in hand,” says Dr. Serap Bastepe-Gray, a faculty research associate at the Peabody Conservatory of The Johns Hopkins University, who studies, in part, how music relates to brain functioning.

“It started as a way to give privacy to patrons in their conversations and to cover up kitchen noise.” In more recent decades, musical backdrops have evolved. “It’s about atmosphere and ambiance,” says John Rutoskey, owner of Station North’s Lost City Diner, where the harmonies of 1950s girl groups serenade patrons from a retro jukebox as they chow down on milkshakes and cheese fries. “Good music improves business, and keeps people happy.”

In honor of the February 15 telecast of the Grammys, we’ve tracked down the hot spots with the best tunes—from a fancy steakhouse to a chic coffee shop.

Catch the tickling ivories of a jazz piano seven nights a week at this elegant Mt. Vernon staple. And on Saturdays, a bass and guitar joins in on Duke Ellington and Count Basie classics. After 50 years, this tradition isn’t going anywhere.

Indie-rock music that’s heavy on the eclectic rhythms of the Talking Heads—featuring Maryland Institute College of Art’s own David Byrne—blends well with the whimsical fare and décor at this new veggie-centric eatery.

At this sleek coffee shop, the new-wave beats of The Cure and Echo & the Bunnymen pair perfectly with poached egg-avocado toast, luscious lattes, and other bean-based drinks.

A communal decision by the staff determines the soundtracks at this wine-and-charcuterie bar. Expect to hear the velvety voice of Neko Case or the rock and soul of Hall & Oates. Whatever’s on strikes the balance between unobtrusive and enjoyable.

Come here to eat cheeseburgers and pick classic titles (The Supremes, anyone?) off a jukebox with bubbling neon lights. But offerings aren’t limited to doo-wop. Artists such as Hank Williams and Whitney Houston also are available for your listening pleasure.

ANNAPOLIS

Two companies lead ghost tours here: Tours & Crawls of Annapolis and Watermark. The former offers a 90-minute walking tour of the downtown, detailing creepy characters from an undead gravedigger to a headless man. A pub-crawl version of the tour exists, too, as does a “Twisted History” bar hop that revels in tales of “murder, mayhem, sex, and scandal.” Watermark’s Historic Ghost Walk runs on Fridays, Saturdays, and some Sundays and traffics in unnerving anecdotes about drowned watermen, apparitions , and uncanny coincidences.

ELLICOTT CITY

The old EC bills itself as “perhaps the most haunted town in America,” a place where “spiritual energy somehow pockets.” Decide for yourself by taking Ye Haunted History of Olde Ellicott City Ghost Tour, where guides relate both recent and ancient accounts of paranormal activity at area establishments. For those interested in both alcoholic and etheral spirits, there’s the Spirits of Ellicott City Tour with stops at watering holes such as Ellicott Mills Brewing Company and the Diamondback Tavern, said to be haunted by the ghost of a woman with flowing hair.

FREDERICK

Fredrick possesses some pretty powerful local lore. There’s the one about a mysterious man in black who was executed for his loyalty to the British crown in 1781, and a yarn about staunch Unionist Barbara Fritchie, who is said to haunt her historic district home. These tales and more can be heard on the Candlelight Historic District Ghost Tour, while the Evening Cemetery Tour takes intrepid interlopers through the graves, crypts, and monuments of Mt. Olivet Cemetery, the resting place of Francis Scott Key, Fritchie, and other famous Marylanders.

FELLS POINT

From shanghaied sailors to bloodcurdling bordellos, Fells Point has a colorful—and sometimes creepy—past. Several tours recount the madness, including the Original Fells Point Ghostwalk, the Original Fells Point Haunted PubWalk, and two different “Wicked History” pub tours, all run by the venerable (since 2001) Baltimore Ghost Tours. Tours and Crawls of Baltimore is a more recent arrival on the scene, but also offers a ghost tour and a pub crawl that indulge in terrifying tales of a spectral boot maker and the so-called “Night Nurse” who haunts the Admiral Fell Inn.

MT. VERNON

An offshoot of the Original Fells Point GhostWalk, the Mt. Vernon GhostWalk introduces tour-takers to the timeless phantoms inhabiting the city’s cultural district. Between guests that never checked out of The Belvedere Hotel, séances-gone-wrong, and bygone society matrons who refuse to leave their historic mansions, Mt. Vernon is full of odd happenings, sure to rattle even the bravest of souls.

SAVAGE MILL

Once a textile mill that wove canvas for clipper ships, Civil War tents, and silent-movie screens, Historic Savage Mill has been reinvigorated as an upscale shopping center. But that doesn’t mean the past is gone. Store owners have reported whispers coming from empty rooms, sightings of mischievous child spirit known to trip shoppers, and even a literal ghost in the machine, said to emerge sporadically from an office computer. And don’t get locals started on the bell in the tower that seems to ring by itself. Hear these stories and more during Ghost Walks at Historic Savage Mill.