The latest installment of Hidden Maryland goes to the James N. Robey Public Safety Training Center, which offers an extensive array of suburban mockups in one cinder-block building.
The summer violence in Baltimore has turned husbands into single parents, transformed rookie cops into veterans, left missing verses in half-finished rap songs, forced politicians to personally confront the city’s crime problems, and sent longtime residents to new places and new lives.
At the Maryland State Fair — past the midway rides and games, past the 4-H building and past the penned-up goats — a man stands under a tent, netted on all four sides, with a chainsaw.
With that chainsaw, Marty Long slowly slices off pieces of a wooden stump. A few dozen people watch in awe from bleachers surrounding the tent as the stump becomes a statue of two birds, darkened by blow torches and wood stain.
Long will be at the fair making chainsaw sculptures all week that will be auctioned off.
Six Marylanders look back on the March on Washington on Aug. 28, 1963, and its effect on their lives. Said Joyce Dennison, 71, a retired Baltimore schoolteacher: “It didn’t matter what socioeconomic group, religion or ethnicity you belonged to. There was a great feeling of humanity.”
Story by Jonathan Pitts
Portrait photos by Kim Hairston and Algerina Perna
The latest installment of Hidden Maryland takes you behind the scenes of the Orioles’ clubhouse kitchen, where this season the team is working with a new chef to offer more nutritious and delicious food options to its players.
Bob Wingard, a self-admitted adrenaline junkie, had trouble finding a sports car that fit his six-foot, nine-inch frame. So the Goddard Systems Engineer, who designs satellites, decided to build his own.
Not just any car would do. Wingard bought all the remaining stock parts from the legendary car builder Carroll Shelby’s defunct “Series 1” project and started a new company called FII Roadsters and Motor Sports.