Local History

Millsboro of the 50’s and 60’s that most my age remember is now the stuff of memories, but memories that we like to recall and share with our family and friends. And, I have also found that newcomers have an interest in knowing more about their chosen surroundings.

As much as I appreciate progress, I find myself feeling somewhat sad about the changes that I see taking place and each one tends to push those memories a little further into the distance. The disappearance of Hitchens Auto Supply into the mists of time was just one of the more recent changes that encourage me to stand quietly and gaze down Main Street. I can begin to see people who are no longer with us walking into a place of business, cars and trucks moving in both directions, and suddenly I am back in time to another day.

Likewise, old photographs can produce the same sentiment. Millsboro readers of this may recall some of the people associated with Hitchens Auto Supply. One, in particular, Atwood Timmons. He worked the counter for Theodore many years until his retirement in the 90s. Some of you may recall that Atwood was into go-karting and took pictures at the go-kart track on what was known then as Blueberry Hill, now home to Fallbrooke Apartments, on Mitchell Street. He also regularly took photos around Millsboro and fortunately of few of those have survived the ravages of time. I sat down with Atwood several years ago and went through his carousels of slides, and subsequently converted those he could identify, from the 40s through the 70s, to a more current format.

Before the “mists of time” become denser, it’s time to share these photos with a greater audience. They are not all captioned, certainly not in any specific order, perhaps not oriented properly, and some will have a red tint due to the original film on which they were recorded. But, I hope that you can enjoy them for the memories.

Click here for the Millsboro Photo Gallery

Mike Dixon, local history writer and historian, of Cecil County, Maryland, has made a career of sharing a common interest in our local history with everyone within his reach. With a focus on the Mid-Atlantic, he has worked to encourage public interest for over three decades, appearing on TV, on The Today Show and Maryland Public Television, and has been featured in National Geographic, Southern Living, Chesapeake Life, and other publications. An adjunct professor with graduate degrees in history and behavioral science, Mike is also a visiting scholar for several organizations.

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My phone rang the morning of September 19th: The “old store with the door in the corner”, my mother’s shop, Carey’s Paint & Frame Shop, was officially recognized as a historic property.

The great news came from my mentor at the Delaware Division of Historical & Cultural Affairs, Madeline Dunn. Our year-long project on the application to the National Park Service had paid off. With a lot of help from the staffs at Delaware Public Archives and Sussex County Courthouse, we assembled the necessary documentation.

Problems with my eyesight had

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On occasion I come across some unique gems tucked away in our local history, and during a recent chat with Donald Ward, one such story was told to me that came to him from Joe Ben Hudson.  Mr. Hudson, some readers may recall, lived to be one of our oldest citizens, going home to be with the Lord at the young age of 108. He bore witness to many of the historical facts we can only read about today.

Every town has its characters, and Millsboro has had its share. Some of us could name quite a few in a brief conversation, but I’ll go farther back in time, beyond the living memory of any reader here. In the mid-1800s, there lived a man by the name of Jimmy O’Neal, whose reputation for the consumption of alcohol was the stuff of legends. He was the town drunk. Jimmy could drink almost anything, and he would it seemed, even at peril to his own life.

Round about the year 1851, during the winter of ’51, folks in Millsborough were rounding up firewood and coal for the night.  It was a bitter wind that blew across town, made even more so as the last tinges of heavenly warmth disappeared with the setting sun. Even though it was Saturday, no one lingered on Main Street, as was the custom. Coal stoves were being stoked, ashes were stirred in fireplaces, and wood stoves were reloaded, all over town. People were settling in for another long, cold winter night.

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It’s been fifty years since the March Storm of ’62 left its permanent impression upon our peninsula, our psyche, and our photo albums. Here are a few shots that I managed to gather with my humble Kodak Brownie right after the storm.  I only just found them this week while looking for something else.

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