Mat Thorp "Cokinos"

Because "exclusive" is not in my family vocabulary please welcome my neighbor, Mat Thorp into the fold of this blog. Although Matt is not from here, he has spent enough time here to have plenty of street cred since his arrival after serving in World War Two. Here is Mat's "inclusion":





"To make sure that I get included in your, obviously exclusive blog; here are my Greek bonafides: The second photo from the right margin on the top line is Lynn`s mother, Lynn, with Nick Gaston owner of the Old New Orleans night club on 18th Street at Connecticut Ave. This was taken by the Old New Orleans cigarette/photographer girl. On Lynn`s and my first date in 1949, she asked me to meet her at Nick`s house on the Virginia side of Key Bridge where he had Sunday poolside parties. Nick`s main business was brokering restaurant deals. When Lynn and I were married the second time, Nick had the wedding group to the Old New Orleans before opening time."

Thanks for the memories, Mat!

Birthday Ray

(Jeanne and Bebe 1952)

Once upon a time a woman named Jeanne Lightbound went to Western High School for just one year and became good friends with a Greek kid named George Cokinos. Jeanne went back to Bethesda Chevy Chase High school, but she never forgot George. If she hadn't kept up that friendship with George, we never would have met all her BCC pals like Charles Bernard, whom she married, and Ray Stone who is celebrating his 90th birthday today.


(Irene, Bebe and Ray 1945)

The gang, Ray and Irene Stone, Roy and Marge Cross and Jeanne's husband Charles Bernard met George and Bebe in the late 1930s. After the war everybody started having children and playing Bridge. George, Ray and Charles went into the home building business together before Ray began Bethesda TV and Charles got into selling Oldsmobiles. The friends went to the beach and later traveled the world together.


(Peter and Roger Cokinos w/ Ray Stone 1950)



(Trip to Bermuda 1970 back when everybody got dressed up to get on a plane)

In the late 1960s, George and Ray built beach cottages side by side in South Bethany. The property was cheap after a huge storm destroyed most of the beachfront houses on Ash Wednesday in 1962.

Bethany Beach after the storm

The two houses ended up being so close together that we could communicate with an intercom which was fun but unreliable. When that didn't work, we used sign language. We didn't have phones at the beach.

One time George urgently summoned Ray, telling him that a fire had broken out. Ray rushed over to our house only to find George grinning, standing over a griddle full of pancakes. Too bad Ray forgot to tell Irene, who was waiting anxiously next door, that it was just a joke.

Bebe recalls the time they went out on Ray's boat and their friend, Nadine spilled a cocktail down her front. She went below and took her bra off, and they hung it on the rigging to dry. When they came back to dock for dinner, they made quite the entrance with Ray coming in a bit too fast, and the red bra flying.

Happy birthday, Ray. You still have your good looks, not to mention that winning personality.

Hot Hazy Humid Then and Now

picnic at mayo beach 1940

It is hot which is nothing new here in Washington, DC in the summertime. What is new is the heat index which is telling us how hot we FEEL. I could live without that. I have been living through these sweltering summers almost all of my life, but it's disconcerting now to know small children and older people should not even be breathing the air. On these hot summer days all eyes turn toward the Eastern Shore.

Way back when, before the Chesapeake Bay Bridges, a trip to the beach was most likely by car or ferry and did not necessarily mean the Atlantic Ocean. Ferries could take you to places like Betterton Beach or St Michael's- once thriving water front communities. Now you can still find sleepy piers on either side of the bay while the traffic swarms down Route Fifty towards Rehobeth or Ocean City.

My parents, George and Bebe, used to go to beaches on the DC side of the bay like Chesapeake Beach, Mayo, and Woodland. There were nets to catch the nettles that didn't work very well, and the water was shallow, but it was wet, and hopefully a breeze was stirring the air. Cousins Koula and Thelma had a cottage in North Beach, and their friend, Johnny Monaco had a place in South Beach. Johnny would catch soft shells or fish for dinner. Sometimes my parents would sneak into the dances at Beverly Beach where no "immigrants" or "Mediterraneans" were allowed, but my DC born "Greek" father was light haired and blue eyed and got away with passing.