“We’re Demolishing Your Beach House,” My Dad Said—Then the Development Board Shut It Down

That could be our tagline.”

I finished my coffee and set the mug down on the railing. The ceramic was from a set Grandpa Joe bought in 1983, each piece hand-painted with a different seashell. My favorite had a scallop shell, faded blue now. Inside the house, my mother had already tagged furniture and boxes for “disposal.” Forty years of memory labeled continue reading …