The City by the Sea

We first moved to Newport in 1980, running the marina at Williams & Manchester Shipyard, during a critical and historical time in sailing history: when Dennis Connor lost the America's Cup. After a hiatus of nearly forty years, we've returned to this jewel on Narragansett Bay to plant our flag, literally and figuratively. In our opinion it's the perfect mix of blue collar, white collar, and popped collar.

Just kidding!

Newport is a special place, not least of all because of its picturesque harbor, historical Colonial-America and Gilded-Age architecture and a whole host of world-class events. It's still the sailing capitol of America, but it' also home to the best automobile concours in America (in our opinion), The International Tennis Hall of Fame, and one of the oldest polo teams in the country. A top-drawer Vineyard that produces award-winning wine, and a hometown baseball team that plays in their original stadium, built in 1908 and named after local WW I hero, Bernardo Cardines, give this harbor haven a unique local flavor.

We love this city, and hope that the Old's Cool Academy gives as much back to this wonderful place as it's already given us.

"I always loved the wind because you can't buy it."

– Gianni Agnelli

We always like to think BIG.

Anybody have a spare mansion lying around on the grass they're not using?

Seriously, we're convinced that education should be housed in an architectural environment that is as respected and inspiring as the precious knowledge it's entrusted with. "Seaview" would be the perfect location for the Old's Cool Academy–which will revitalize this sleeping beauty and eventually become a world-class educational institution and a respected and valued asset to the City of Newport.

A stupendous location overlooking the Atlantic, brilliant stonework and historic design, plenty of classrooms, built-in barracks, mess hall, theater, academic quad, tennis courts, and direct access to the ocean, perfect for our sailing team (420s) and our rowing crew.

What better place to invest in the future education of our children in the tried-and-true Classical Education and the time-honored traditions that inspired our great Constitutional Republic than this?

Doesn't hurt to dream.

The vision is simple: to restore the heart and soul of the City of Newport by transforming it back into a pedestrian and bicycle-friendly community, an invaluable investment in the quality of life for both its residents and the tourists who come to visit too.

And the easiest way to start is to turn the eastern half of America’s Cup Avenue, from Long Wharf to Thames Street into America’s Cup Park, with a bicycle path and grass running the whole length. Benches and bikes will invite everyone to slow down, and enjoy the beauty that is our unique and special city. The eastern half of America’s Cup Avenue will become a two-way street, not the unappealing 4-lane “stroad” that it is now, dividing and dangerous.

Queen Anne Square can be very easily extended across Thames Street to become a pedestrian walkway, and for a gazebo to be built, much like the one in King Park, which will become the center of the city’s activities, a “common,” the literal grandstand for our collective and important voices. Parades can finish here; Memorial Day speeches given, band concerts enjoyed, art exhibits and dance and theatrical performances welcomed.

We're planting our flag here.

Cities have a fantastic opportunity to encourage civic pride by turning their citizens into literal flag wavers, but the sad truth is most municipal banners are known as SOBs (Seals on a Bedsheet). Even though Newport’s flag is historically significant, it probably won’t delight any of the residents or tourists who don’t know its importance.

With that in mind, we thought we’d re-design the Newport flag to capture the inspired and inspiring spirit of the City by the Sea.

According to the Vexillological Society, there are a few rules for designing an authentic and memorable flag, and we thought we’d lay them out here as guidelines for everyone to understand, and judge by. First, a flag’s design must be simple–a six year old should be able to draw it from memory. Second, it should have meaning and appropriateness. Third, two or three colors, max. Fourth, no text or writing. Fifth, it should be original, and/or related to other flags or symbols associated with the city.

We thought a modified swallowtail burgee would be exactly right even though most flags are rectangular–since this distinguishing shape is associated with boating in general and yacht clubs in particular – perfect for Newport given its maritime heritage and exciting sailing culture. We chose navy blue for trust and truth (and the ocean) and white for light and purity–the same color scheme as the Rhode Island state flag.

The 5-pointed star is a nod to the Navy, a welcome long-time resident and partner in Newport’s growth and reputation, going all the way back to the Revolutionary War.

The smaller, superscript star multiplies the first star’s power exponentially, and visualizes perfectly the multitude of wonders and events that can be found in Newport. It's also a hat tip to the North Star, used by explorers for centuries to navigate, and the mariner at sea’s best friend.

We suggest a contest for a Newport flag redesign, and let the people decide.

I He(art)... Newport

Art has the power to transcend the everyday, and to universalize the fun and the happiness that we might be feeling, as well as help all of us to overcome together the pain and suffering that’s in our lives. Unfortunately, most public art is decorative and static–which is a shame, because we think art, especially dynamic installations, are the perfect way to engage and empower people–and there’s almost no place to do that anymore in the real world.

We have one whole wall in our kitchen painted like a chalkboard, which we call “The Wall of Knowledge,” and everyone who comes into our home is eager and welcome to write something on it. And they do: some draw incredible art, others sign their names and when they visited; others make lists of movies or write down recipes. We’d prefer actual knowledge, but some geniuses just want to draw smiley faces. Seriously, it’s the center of our family gatherings and is a great reminder of the fun we’ve had long after the holiday/party’s over. Every so often we’ll wipe it off, and then start with a clean slate, so-to-speak.

Our idea is for a public art installation that replicates this tactile and personal focus on family, community and sharing, but on a larger scale. This time, we’d like to call it “I HE(ART)...” and in this case it would be “NEWPORT.” This simple slab of “chalkboard” concrete would be approximately 6’ high and 24’ long, and about 6” thick. We think Queen Anne Square would be the perfect place for it, since this beautiful public space is the spiritual center of Newport, visible and welcoming to everyone. We would have a chalk dispenser on site, and for $1 anyone can get a piece of chalk and leave their mark, literally, on the world.

The best part about this art piece is that it’s self-renewing, and evergreen: every time it rains the wall’ll be washed clean and the people, tourists and residents alike, can bring out the collective, inspired art in themselves once again.

"Zip Rack"

We'e already talked about our plan to turn Newport into a bicycle- and pedestrian-friendly city, and we can see these bike racks sprinkled around town, promoting Newport's commitment to easy (and cheap!) transportation, healthy living, and an overall cleaner environment as a great first step. Newport has the potential to be such a bike-friendly city, and since almost everybody already has one, it's a win-win all around.

Sponsored by local businesses and private citizens who want to make a positive contribution to our seaside haven, these "Zip Racks" are the perfect fundraising opportunity, with all proceeds going to support our various community needs.

Can you go home again?

I first moved to Newport on May 19th, 1980 – the day after I resigned my commission in the U.S. Army. After traveling the world and raising three children, I moved back on September 4th, 2019. I'm wondering if there'll be a noticeable difference either in Newport or in myself all these years and miles later. Doubtful.

I'm not going to reminisce about the good old days, and they were good, and plenty, but I'll share two memories that have both kind of come full circle. I lived on Connection Street and sometimes when I'd walk home late at night there'd be a commotion at the Wellington Cafe, a lower Thames Street dive that had green corrugated fiberglass siding and a hangdog look. Usually during Fleet Week there'd be at least one bar fight that would spill out onto the sidewalk, between either two drunken sailors or a sailor and a townie. I'd just sidestep the crunch and blood and continue on my merry drunk way.

As a sidebar note, there was also a little bakery on Thames Street and if I was going home late enough they would have already started baking bread – the smell was heavenly and maddening at the same time – it reeked of warm, spermy dreams.

Anyway, fast forward forty years and I'm at a party in Salisbury, NC and one of my brother's friends comes in packing a piece. I ask him what's going on with that. He says he's always carried since he got into the habit when he was in the navy. I asked him where he was stationed and he said he was stationed in Newport most of the time. I asked him when and he said '74 - '82 or something like that.

I told him I was there at the same time and none of the snowflakes or Vineyard Vines bros who summer in Newport now believe me when I tell them that there were bar fights on Thames Street on a regular basis, and nobody flinched or called the cops. He started laughing. He told me that at formation on Sunday mornings at the base there'd be guys with black eyes and missing teeth and nobody could remember anything that happened. No, sir, I can't remember anything. True story.

I was the dock master at Williams & Manchester shipyard, and Dennis Connor and his crew had their America's Cup headquarters set up there. One of the cast of characters I got to know, and know well, thanks to his and his wife Jean's friendliness and kindness was Jack Sutphen. He had a steel sailboat called the Scorpion, and they became like surrogate parents to me. Jack was a mean sailor, and became, deservingly, Dennis's trusted right-hand man. They lost the cup for the first time ever in 1983, but went on to win it several times in the following years. Jack retired to San Diego about 15 years later.

I looked Jack up when I moved back to Newport, found his address, and sent him a note saying how much he and Jean meant to me, and hoped he was well. He sent me a hand-written letter back saying, yes, those were the days. Jean had died a few years earlier, and he was enjoying his retirement, sailing the small sailboats of his youth once again, with other old-timers trying to recapture the thrill of their sophomoric indiscretions and elations.

And we're all still trying to recapture them, aren't we?