a&e features
Unraveling mystery of the Kilbourne Place memorial stones
Three gay men lived in this Mount Pleasant neighborhood before dying of AIDS
Walking down Kilbourne Place is like stepping into another world. The quiet street lined with row homes is a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Mount Pleasant Street. Mount Pleasant is a village within a city with a thriving El Salvadoran population, long-term residents, and newcomers such as myself. On any given day, Purple Patch is serving up sizzling plates of Sisig and the 43 bus is whizzing its way on its journey to the Kennedy Center. On Kilbourne Place, the sound of sizzling pork and the loud hum of the Metrobus can be heard. Within this little slice of serenity, there are three men that I’ve become acquainted with: Robert Rockerhousen, Jakob Efsen and Charles Winney.
On Aug. 18, 2022, my dear friend Courtney decided that it was a good idea to take a walk around the neighborhood after a long day’s work. As we took a right on Lamont Street to walk up Kilbourne, I decided to slow my pace and lag behind. When I caught up to Courtney, she was standing in front of 1755 Kilbourne Place staring at a patch of grass.
I looked down at what caught her eye. It was a headstone with the name Robert Rockershousen and the years 1959-1998 etched onto it. We both sat there and scratched our heads at this find. Without exchanging words, I stepped a couple of paces to the left and found Jakob Efsen and Charles Winney’s headstones. Courtney and I reconvened back at Robert’s stone and we started to exchange ideas about what these headstones could be.
My first thought was that these were trees planted as a memorial but Courtney reminded me that there were no trees. We said that these could be stones for beloved family pets but the names sounded too human. Getting caught up in trying to find out why headstones would be in this quiet neighborhood, we forgot the years that were etched into them. We both settled on the stones being a memorial for slaves since an enslaved burial ground was found not too far away in Adams Morgan. Now that the mosquitoes were biting at every inch of exposed skin, we settled on this rationale and walked away. Before leaving, I decided to snap a picture.
One glass of wine and a few hours later, I pulled out my phone and took a look at the headstone. The enslaved memorial theory was quickly discarded because I saw the year 1998 clear as day. Doing what most people in my age group do when we’re looking for information, I turned to the Internet. I posted on the r/washingtondc subreddit hoping to ask residents if they knew anything about these stones. The commenters on that post were as confused as I was. Knowing that I needed more information, I walked back down the street the following day and took pictures of Jakob and Charles’s stone. It was on this second trip back and actually paying attention to the stones that a thought started to form.
All three of the stones were in honor of men who passed away in the mid-to-late 1990s who were all under 50 years of age. I decided to take another shot at the Internet and back on the r/washingtondc subreddit I made a post soliciting the help of elders in the area’s LGBTQ community. As I was waiting for comments to roll in, I was anxiously checking my phone and refreshing the feed hoping that someone somewhere had answers. No one could say who, what, or when the stones were placed on Kilbourne Place but a few provided some valuable insight on the neighborhood and a few told me to check the Washington Blade’s obituary section with my library card. That night, I spent hours going through each issue in the 1998 archives until I landed on the Nov. 13, 1998 issue. There in black and white was Robert and his cause of death was listed as complications from AIDS.
I went back into the archives and started scrolling through 1996 until I got to July 26, 1996 where I found Charles. In black and white was the cause of death due to complications of AIDS. It took a while for me to find Jakob’s obituary but it was found through the NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt. Even though his cause of death wasn’t explicitly listed as complications from AIDS on his obituary, I knew what that 3×6 panel represented. Here before me were three men who were gay and died from AIDS. At first, my looking into these headstones was something to satiate my curiosity. I was still relatively new to Mount Pleasant and I wanted to know every little thing about the place I now call home. I did not know that this undertaking would become deeply personal for me.
I didn’t fully embrace and accept myself until I turned 25. Growing up, I had conflicting feelings about my sexuality and identity. As young as elementary school I knew I had an attraction to girls and I preferred to present more masculine. Among my friend group, I preferred to be called Tee because Tiana never sounded right to my ears. It wasn’t until adolescence that I also realized I had an attraction to boys. Throughout my adolescent and early adult life, I had visible relationships with men and closeted relationships with women. It was already programmed that there was a “wrongness” within me. I was mocked for my tomboyish appearance. I couldn’t maintain friendships with other girls because they would be immediately labeled as dykes. In college, the dean of my sorority indicated that she would feel “uncomfortable” changing in front of me, implying that there is something inherently predatory about my sexuality.
The closet is where I stayed until June of 2022. Around that time, the walls of the closet started to close in on me and a change needed to happen. I chopped off all of my hair, threw away my feminine clothing, and became Tee again. While this newfound freedom was liberating, there was also a deep sense of regret. When I went to Pride that year I saw a beautiful and vibrant community. A community that I knew nothing about and was afraid of my whole life. Stumbling upon Robert, Charles, and Jake’s headstones as a newly out queer person allowed me an opportunity to learn about a community that I deprived myself of in favor of trying to be “normal.”
I immediately got to work researching everything I could about the men. No longer was finding out the person or entity that placed the headstones an important part of my research. The most important thing was telling the stories of these three men and the lives that they led. Jakob was the first of the three that I started researching. There was already quite a bit of information on him due to his quilt panel. On his panel, there was a pair of cowboy boots and three flags. The cowboy boots represented his love for square dancing. He was a proud member of DC Lambda Squares, which is the area’s LGBTQ square dancing group. DC Lambda Squares members made Jakob’s panel. The three flags represented places that were deeply personal to him. Denmark represents the place he was born. Sweden represents the nationality of his parents, and South Korea represents where Jake served and lived during his time in the PeaceCorps.
Jakob Efsen was born on Feb. 5, 1946 in Denmark. At some point in his childhood, he and his family relocated to Middletown Township, N.J., where he stayed until adulthood. Upon completion of university, he volunteered for the PeaceCorps where he served as a tuberculosis control volunteer in South Korea. In doing research about Jakob, I found a Facebook group of PeaceCorps volunteers who served in Korea. One of his friends, Neil Landreville with whom I had the pleasure speaking, was in K group 13 with Jakob between 1970-1972.
On June 23, 2023, I had the pleasure of speaking with Neil. Neil is now 77 years old and a retired HIV nurse living in New York City. He has a certain youthfulness and brightness to his voice that immediately endears you to him. We stayed on the phone for more than an hour talking about what he knew about Jake and trading stories of our careers in healthcare. Neil met Jake in San Jose where they were roommates for three days before PeaceCorps training in Hawaii. Neil first noticed that Jake was very tall and had an enthusiasm for life. He expressed that the people who knew Jake were immediately taken in by his generosity.
In the weeks they had to learn Korean and how to administer care to people with tuberculosis, Neil fondly remembers how Jake liked to take photos of flowers. Jake went on to become staff for PeaceCorps following the completion of his volunteer term. Being so inspired by the work he did in Korea, Jake came to the DMV area and worked as a tuberculosis case manager in Prince George’s County. Neil expressed that the same reason he worked in the Bronx during the height of the AIDS epidemic is the same reason Jake took on the job in Prince George’s County — he wanted to work directly with the people.
Another fascinating bit about Jake is that he liked to write letters to the editor in response to stories he read in the local newspaper. He was very vocal about his feelings on former Mayor Marion Barry during his drug scandal. He was also vocal about road safety and I have to believe he was passionate about it because he liked to ride his bicycle throughout the neighborhood. Another piece that spoke to me that I remembered when speaking to Neil is one from the Aug. 14, 1987 edition of The Washington Times. The piece was titled “AIDS: The Situation That the U.S. Faces.”
Six years into the AIDS epidemic, the crisis was being ignored by the government. Then-President Ronald Reagan did not mention the word AIDS publicly for years until after his Hollywood friend Rock Hudson came out as gay and revealed that he was living with AIDS. The government was so adamant about not mentioning AIDS that the topic was met with laughter and homophobic remarks in a 1982 press conference in which former Press Secretary Larry Speakes asked reporter Lester Kinsolving if he had AIDS. It wasn’t until the late 1980s when the AIDS death toll was nearing hundreds of thousands did the government expand funding for research and drug development.
In that time of governmental neglect, misinformation, and homophobia, Jake posed a challenge in his piece. He stated, “If Mr. Sobaran thinks the heterosexual population of this nation is safe from the AIDS infection, I suggest he study the incidence of genital herpes in the United States.” In talking with Neil, it was discovered that Jakob already knew he was HIV positive as early as 1990. Neil recounted a visit to D.C. to Jakob’s home where he stayed with his partner. He recalls Jake mentioning that he was taking Bactrim as a prophylactic for PCP (pneumocystis pneumonia). Even though Jake was living with HIV, he continued to work as a tuberculosis case manager all the way up until a couple of weeks before his passing.
Hearing that detail about Jake impressed and also flustered me. Tuberculosis is one of the many opportunistic infections for people living with compromised immune systems. I asked Neil if he was worried about Jake working such a job in his condition and he responded with “that was Jake.” Jakob died on June 5, 1995 with his long-term partner Bradford Jewett by his side. Neil went to the subsequent funeral service where he noticed that it was attended by a majority of his D.C. friends. Still not having any information on Charles and Robert and knowing that they were neighbors, I asked Neil if it would be OK if I sent him photos of Charles and Robert to see if he remembers them at Jake’s service. Unfortunately, he did not recall seeing them there.
Feeling at peace with what I found out about Jake, I started to look into Charles. Charles Winney was born on March 2, 1956 in Saratoga Springs, N.Y., where he lived until moving to Baltimore to attend Johns Hopkins University in 1974 to study to be a pharmacist. It’s unclear how far he made it at Hopkins because he eventually went to the Howard University School of Pharmacy to continue his studies. In looking into Charles’s background, I wanted to find a better photo other than the black and white one used for his obituary. I scoured The Bison (Howard University’s yearbook) looking for any indication of Charles but he wasn’t in there. I continued searching for anything that could lead me to a photo of Charles and a Google search of his name led to a resume.
The resume was for a pharmaceutical researcher based out of Kansas. In the section where he listed the people he mentored, Charles was one of his interns in the summer of 1986 and he was listed as a senior. I went back to the 1986 and 1987 issue of The Bison looking for a photo of him and again, there was no photo. It is unclear whether Charles completed his studies at Howard but he worked for the pharmacy at George Washington University Hospital before working at Fidia Pharmaceuticals before retiring on disability in 1993. Charles also worked in the healthcare industry. Unfortunately, not much is known about Charles at this point. I reached out for information to various people but none have yet to respond. Charles passed away on July 11, 1996, with his partner Larry Martin by his side.
While waiting for more information on Charles and Robert, I began to ponder a little bit more about Charles because just like me, he lived at the intersection of Blackness and queerness. That intersection was something that I had to reconcile within myself. In my community, it’s not uncommon to hear someone mention that homosexuality isn’t “African” or that homosexuality is an “agenda” being pushed by the white mainstream media to destroy the Black family structure. The thought that I struggled with through all these years was that by accepting my queerness, I too would be trading in my Blackness. The Black community is a community that had to build itself from the ground up. Through forced migration, we lost most of our native tongue, culture, and history. Some of those have been retained and passed down, which is evident in our music or cultural practices (i.e. jumping the broom at weddings) but it has been blended with the language, culture, and customs by the same people who kidnapped us from Africa.
Christianity was used as a way to instill subservience in slaves. Slave masters and captors frequently quoted Ephesians 6:5 to justify their complicity in bondage to human beings. “Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ,” the verse said. The Black church has become a pillar of the community and incubated the Civil Rights Movement. The Black church is also the same institution that uses Leviticus 20:13 to shun their very own. “If a man lieth with mankind as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination,” the verse says.
Even though the Black church is currently experiencing drops in attendance, not too many Black people are far removed from the influence the church has had on our people and unfortunately, homophobia has been one of its influences.
With this history in perspective, in certain parts of the Black community, queerness is viewed as giving into white supremacy where males are seen as giving up their masculinity for a more subservient, feminine position. The women are viewed as wanting to become men in order to escape gender-based oppression and only in finding the “right man,” will the woman return to her “natural” position. Being a Black gay man in the 70s, 80s, and 90s, I wonder how Charles navigated these social issues. For Charles to have been out and in a long-term relationship during those times is a testament to his bravery.
In the process of digging through public records trying to find Charles, an unexpected call came in. Neil forwarded my request for information on Jake to a fellow PeaceCorps friend, Susan Pawlowsky. While she did not know Jake, she does have a love for genealogy. I asked her if she could use her skills to help me find information on Charles and Robert. She agreed and in the information that she sent, she sent the information for Robert’s mother. Acting on faith, I penned a letter and dropped it in the mail to Mrs. Rockerhousen.
On July 1, 2023, I had the pleasure of speaking with Arleen Rockerhousen. I expected to answer questions about my motivations in wanting to know information about her but I was met with a surprisingly sweet and pleasant voice. I told her to tell me what Robert was like and the type of child that he was.
Robert Rockerhousen was born on Aug. 17, 1959 in Michigan. Mrs. Rockerhousen explained that he had a good group of friends growing up but she would often find Robert in his room studying maps. Robert had wanderlust and had wanted to see the world from an early age. This passion for travel was ignited even further when he got a job at a local AAA office in high school where he again was surrounded by maps. After high school, Robert went to the University of Michigan Ann Arbor where he had an internship with Victoria University in Toronto. He graduated with a bachelor’s degree in 1981. Upon completion of his undergraduate studies, Robert took whatever money he had and traveled around Europe until his money ran out.
When Robert came back to the states, he worked for American Express Travel Related Services until he eventually landed a job at the World Bank as a tariff specialist in Washington, D.C. Mrs. Rockerhousen was familiar with his group of friends in D.C. I found it quite funny when she mentioned that one of his friends was a cartographer due to his love of maps when he was younger. She also mentioned that she was familiar with Larry and Charles. In her recollection of events, she stated that the property on 1755 Kilbourne Place was not Robert’s primary residence. She stated that it was co-owned by him and his longtime friend John Koran. In a brief exchange with Mr. Koran, it was mentioned that he and Robert did indeed own and live on the property until Robert fell ill and eventually sold it to live with his partner Luis in the Shaw neighborhood.
Mrs. Rockerhousen mentioned that Robert, Charles, and Larry were very close and they enjoyed her cooking whenever she would come over. She mentioned that their favorite dish was her German lasagna. She isn’t quite sure how Robert, Charles, and Larry became friends but she remembers them very fondly. While listening to her reminisce about her son, I did not want to talk about HIV. I grew up in a post antiretroviral world due to being born in late 1996. I never knew a time when HIV was more than just a chronic manageable condition. In researching the AIDS epidemic to gain perspective on the times in which Robert, Charles, and Jake lived, just seeing footage and pictures was more than gutting in and of itself. I could not imagine being a parent and having to witness your child die before their time.
When the topic of HIV came up in regards to her son, Mrs. Rockerhousen spoke with poise and clarity. She mentioned that one of her biggest regrets when it came to Robert was that he couldn’t feel he could come out to her and their family. It wasn’t until Robert fell ill that he came out to them. Nevertheless, Mrs. Rockerhousen was very supportive of Robert and showed up when he needed her. On Nov. 6, 1998, Robert passed away at the age of 39 with his partner Luis Schunk by his side. Mrs. Rockerhousen mentioned that Charles’s partner Larry Martin held a wake for him inside of his house. I tried reaching out to Larry in order to find out more information on Charles, Robert, and if there was any connection to Jake but as of now there has been no response.
I still don’t know who placed those stones on Kilbourne Place and maybe I will never know. At first, I felt like Nancy Drew trying to unravel this mystery but when the lives of these three men unfolded in front of me, the mystery had to take a backseat. In front of me were three men who lived dynamic lives in spite of the AIDS epidemic. Robert, Charles, and Jake lived in their truths in a time when living in your truth could be met with scorn. Living in your truth meant having to witness the government neglect you as a virus was overtaking your community. Living in your truth meant watching friends and loved ones die but still finding community within each other.
When Mrs. Rockerhousen mentioned Larry having Robert’s wake in his own home, that touched me in a way that I could not imagine. It showed the love between friends and between members of a community. That is what these stones represent. Whoever placed these stones on this quiet stretch of street in the middle of Mount Pleasant loved Robert, Charles, and Jake enough to remember them where they felt the most comfortable. They were remembered in a place where they could be free without the prying eyes of the public. They were remembered at home, where the heart truly lives.
a&e features
Looking back at 50 years of Pride in D.C
Washington Blade’s unique archives chronicle highs, lows of our movement
To celebrate the 50th anniversary of LGBTQ Pride in Washington, D.C., the Washington Blade team combed our archives and put together a glossy magazine showcasing five decades of celebrations in the city. Below is a sampling of images from the magazine but be sure to find a print copy starting this week.
The magazine is being distributed now and is complimentary. You can find copies at LGBTQ bars and restaurants across the city. Or visit the Blade booth at the Pride festival on June 7 and 8 where we will distribute copies.
Thank you to our advertisers and sponsors, whose support has enabled us to distribute the magazine free of charge. And thanks to our dedicated team at the Blade, especially Photo Editor Michael Key, who spent many hours searching the archives for the best images, many of which are unique to the Blade and cannot be found elsewhere. And thanks to our dynamic production team of Meaghan Juba, who designed the magazine, and Phil Rockstroh who managed the process. Stephen Rutgers and Brian Pitts handled sales and marketing and staff writers Lou Chibbaro Jr., Christopher Kane, Michael K. Lavers, Joe Reberkenny along with freelancer and former Blade staffer Joey DiGuglielmo wrote the essays.
The magazine represents more than 50 years of hard work by countless reporters, editors, advertising sales reps, photographers, and other media professionals who have brought you the Washington Blade since 1969.
We hope you enjoy the magazine and keep it as a reminder of all the many ups and downs our local LGBTQ community has experienced over the past 50 years.
I hope you will consider supporting our vital mission by becoming a Blade member today. At a time when reliable, accurate LGBTQ news is more essential than ever, your contribution helps make it possible. With a monthly gift starting at just $7, you’ll ensure that the Blade remains a trusted, free resource for the community — now and for years to come. Click here to help fund LGBTQ journalism.
a&e features
In stressful times, escape to Rehoboth Beach
Here’s what’s new in D.C.’s favorite beach town for 2025
At last, after an uncharacteristically cold and snowy winter, another Rehoboth Beach season is upon us. I have been going to Rehoboth Beach since 1984, and it was the first place I went where people only knew me as a gay man. It was the year I came out. It was a summer community back then. Today it really is an exciting year-round community. But it’s still the summer season when Rehoboth shines, and when the businesses make most of their money.
The summer brings out tens of thousands of tourists, from day-trippers, to those with second homes at the beach. Everyone comes to the beach for the sun and sand, food, and drink. Some like to relax, others to party, and you can do both in Rehoboth Beach, Del.
Stop by CAMP Rehoboth, the LGBTQ community center on Baltimore Avenue, to get the latest updates on what is happening. CAMP sponsors Sunfestival each Labor Day weekend, and a huge block party on Baltimore Avenue in October. They train the Rehoboth Beach police on how to work with the LGBTQ community, and have all kinds of special and regularly scheduled events. Pick up a copy of their publication, Letters, which is distributed around town.
I asked Kim Leisey, CAMP’s executive director, for her thoughts, and she said, “CAMP Rehoboth looks forward to welcoming our friends and visitors to Rehoboth Beach. We are a safe space for our community and will be sponsoring social opportunities, art receptions, concerts, and art exhibits, throughout the summer. If you are planning a wedding, shower, reception, or business meeting, our beautiful atrium is available for rental. We look forward to a summer of solidarity and fun.” While at CAMP stop in the courtyard at a favorite place of mine, Lori’s Oy Vey! Café, and tryher famous chicken salad.
There’s something for everyone at the beach, from walking the boardwalk and eating Thrasher’s fries, to visiting Funland, or playing a game of miniature golf. Or head to some of the world-class restaurants like Drift, Eden, Blue Moon, or Back Porch.
Some random bits on the summer 2025 season. Prices are going up like everywhere else. Your parking meter will cost you $4 an hour. Meters are in effect May 15-Sept. 15. Parking permits for all the non-metered spaces in town are also expensive. Transferable permits are $365,non-transferable $295, or after Aug. 1 if you only come for the end of summer, it’s $165. Detailed information is available on the town’s website.
Rehoboth lost one of its best restaurant this off-season, JAM, but Freddie’s Beach Bar and Restaurant is open for its fourth season. Owner Freddie Lutz told the Blade, “We are looking forward to a fabulous season. Freddie’s has a dance floor and is the only music video bar in town.” There is also live entertainment, karaoke, and Freddie’s Follies drag show Friday nights.
My favorite happy hour bar is Aqua Grill, which has reopened for the season. I recommend taking advantage of their great Tuesday Taco night, and Thursday burger night. Then there is The Pines and Top of the Pines. Bob Suppies of Second Block Hospitality told me, “Come, relax, and play. We are ready! I have been spending summers here since the mid-90’s, and Rehoboth Beach seems to age like a fine wine. Between the new, and favorite restaurants opening back up, the shops bursting with incredible finds, and all the great LGBTQ+ bars to entertain everyone, nowhere beats the Delaware beaches this summer.”
Head down the block on Baltimore Avenue and you get to La Fable restaurant. Go all the way to the beach and you will see the new lifeguard station, which is slated to open later this month. Also, demolition of the old hotel and north boardwalk Grotto Pizza has happened. The site will become a new four-story, 60-room hotel, with ground level retail space.
Then join me at my favorite morning place at the beach, The Coffee Mill, in the mews between Rehoboth and Baltimore Avenues, open every morning at 7 a.m. Owners Mel and Bob also have the Mill Creamery, the ice cream parlor in the mews, and Brashhh! on 1st street, where Mel sells his own clothing line, called FEARLESS! Then there is the ever-popular Purple Parrot, celebrating its 26th year, now with new owners Tyler Townsend and Drew Mitchell, who welcome you to their iconic place. It has only gotten better. If you head farther down Rehoboth Avenue you will find the Summer House with its upscale Libation Room, and a nice garden looking out on Rehoboth Avenue. Also on Rehoboth Avenue is Gidget’s Gadgets owned by the fabulous Steve Fallon. With the renewed interest in vinyl records you may want to stop in at Extended Play.
Then there is the always busy and fun, Diego’s Bar and Nightclub. Joe Zuber of Diego’s told the Blade, “Get ready for a great gay ole time in Rehoboth Beach. Plenty of entertainment, dancing and fun as we seem to be the next Stonewall generation with this newest administration. Each election brings its concerns about how our gay community will be affected. Come to Rehoboth Beach to escape this summer season!”
If you are in town for Sunday happy hour, make sure to stop there to hear the talented Pamala Stanley who is celebrating her 20th season entertaining in Rehoboth.And on Mondays, Stanley plays Broadway and other classics on the piano at Diego’s.
If you are looking for culture Rehoboth has some of that as well. There is the Clear Space Theatre on Baltimore Avenue. Rumors abound that Clear Space will move out of town. But I can’t believe the commissioners and mayor would be dumb enough to let that happen. This year’s shows include “Spring Awakening,” “Buyer + Cellar,” “Hairspray,” “Beautiful: The Carole King Musical,” and “RENT.”Tickets sell fast so I suggest you book early and they are available online. Then mark your calendars for Saturday, July 19 for Rehoboth Beach Pride 2025 at the Rehoboth Beach Convention Center.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention some of the other fine restaurants and clubs in town. Just a reminder, during season you often need dinner reservations. Come to the beach often enough, and you can try them all: Café Azafran, Dos Locos, Goolee’s Grille, Rigby’s, Frank and Louie’s, Above the Dunes, Mariachi, and Henlopen City Oyster House, and Red, White & Basil. And take a short drive to Dewey for breakfast or lunch at the Starboard; popular bartender Doug Moore (winner of the Blade’s Best Rehoboth-Area Bartender 2024 award) holds court at one of the inside bars, which has become a de facto gay bar on Saturdays.
One major development in the local dining scene last summer was the purchase of the Big Fish Restaurant Group by Baltimore-based Atlas Restaurant Group. Nearly a year later, not much has changed at the many Big Fish restaurants, although many locals are hoping for a renovation of Obie’s along with a gay night at the ocean-front bar/restaurant.
These are only a few of the fantastic places to eat and drink at the beach. Remember, book your reservations for hotels and restaurants, early. Rehoboth is a happening place and gets very busy.
We are living in stressful times. A visit to Rehoboth is a nice way to escape them for a while. Take the time to destress, enjoy the sun and sand. Take a stroll on the boardwalk and listen to the sound of the ocean, and people having fun. Enjoy good times, good food, good friends, and remember that life can still be good. Recharge your batteries for the rest of the year, by enjoying some summer fun in Rehoboth Beach.
a&e features
Down to shuck!
Oyster farmers Jordan Nally and fiancé Jimmy Kane on caring for Delaware’s waters — and sharing something special with customers
Although I didn’t come out to my family until my 20s, they should have seen the signs. During one of our annual trips to Indian Shores Beach in Florida, my parents splurged on a Polynesian dining adventure at the only tourist spot in town – Tiki Gardens. While waiting for our table, my sisters found a saltwater tank lined with oysters. For what felt like a fortune to an eight-year-old, a fisherman would shuck a pair and sift through the contents. Dressed in my floral Hawaiian shirt, my excitement turned to desperation when both of my sisters’ oysters revealed pearls. After much begging, my father reluctantly paid to have the small, oddly shaped gems mounted in rings. Watching my sisters flaunt their new jewelry, I seethed with envy and secretly vowed to return one day to claim my own treasure from the sea.
Nearly 50 years later, I’m a full-time resident of Rehoboth Beach, Del. It’s the Atlantic Ocean, not the Gulf of Mexico, but it’s close enough to Florida for me. As a local in a small coastal town, I’m keenly interested in how entrepreneurs are capitalizing on the growing tourism industry with innovative business ideas, so when I stumble across an Instagram page featuring two gay oyster farmers, Jordan Nally and his fiancé Jimmy Kane operating just a few miles away on Rehoboth Bay, my curiosity is piqued. After liking all the posts on the page, I slip into their DMs and ask whether we can meet for an interview. I’m delighted and a little nervous when they agree and invite me out on the boat to tour the farm and talk shellfish. Since everything I know about oysters came from a restaurant menu, I did some research.
Less than a week later, I arrive at the marina on Collins Avenue in Dewey on a picture-perfect morning in early May. Nally is waiting by his pickup truck, casually chatting up a couple of tourists. He’s a Delaware native and looks every bit like an oyster farmer in a long-sleeve, sweat-wicking shirt, PVC-coated shorts, and a branded baseball cap for sun protection. That’s all the more surprising given that Nally spent more than a decade working for JPMorgan Chase and had run for election to the Delaware House of Representatives in 2020.
As a good reporter, I’ve done my research: I know that the Inland Bays (made up of Rehoboth, Indian River, and Little Assawoman Bays) were once prolific oyster producers, with peak annual harvests reaching up to two million bushels. However, by the mid-20th century, overharvesting and a parasitic fungus drastically reduced the oyster populations. By 1960, the annual harvest had plummeted to just 49,000 bushels, marking a low point for the industry. In 2013, former Gov. Jack Markell signed legislation, and the commercial shellfish industry was reborn.
As we unload the flatbed of his EV pickup truck and transport the contents to the waiting boat, a retrofitted pontoon, “The Mullet,” Nally fills me in on his origin story. He came up with the idea to dive into aquaculture while he was quarantined in a hotel in Vermont with nothing but a TV and a local magazine with a cover story on oyster farming. He pitched the idea to his partner Jimmy Kane over the phone, and together they started planning how to make it happen. Nally jokes that what began as a fun “COVID project” quickly bloomed into a thriving business: “Some people did sourdough starter, but we decided to start an oyster farm.”
Although Kane is always there to lend a helping hand, Nally is the one who’s usually out tending the farm. Still, Nally stresses that Kane plays a critical support role: “He’s in charge of merchandising, running sales at the market, and grounding me when I have too many wild ideas.”
In April 2023, the couple planted their first batch of “oyster babies,” provided by the hatchery at the University of Delaware. At the time, they were still living full time in Wilmington, so the first year on the farm meant long drives, managing their day jobs from the car, launching the boat, and working for hours out on the bay before heading back home. Eventually, the capital investment and 14-hour days paid off; now, just two years later, they have 50 floating bags, each holding about 2,000 oysters.
Out on the open water, we see a half-dozen other oyster farms off in the distance. Despite the great weather, we’re the only boat on the bay. Standing confidently at the helm with his eyes fixed on the horizon, Nally gives me a quick biology tutorial on how oysters make it from the bay to the bar. Growers trigger spawning by adjusting water conditions to mimic spring, then feed the larvae specialized algae. After two to three weeks, the larvae develop an “eyespot” and are transferred to grow-out areas on the seabed or suspended bags. Oysters generally reach market size in 18 to 36 months, but the ideal conditions in Rehoboth Bay cut that time down to less than six months.
Nally opens the throttle and, in less time than I expected, we reach the place where the magic happens – the acre of water designated for Nancy James Oysters. Unconventional and bordering on camp, the couple came up with the moniker to honor their late parents. When I ask Nally to explain why they’ve stuck with the venture, his answer, like the name of their business, is personal: “Every single day, we learn something new. And every single oyster reminds us why we started: to grow sustainably, care deeply for our waters, and share something truly special with our customers.”
As we arrive at the oyster farm, Nally cuts the engines and explains the innovative farming technique Nancy James uses to grow its oysters; picture a series of mesh bags, buoyed by floats, and attached to a main line stretching across a tract of water and anchored at both ends. Growing oysters at the water’s surface allows Nally and Kane to capitalize on natural currents and food availability, resulting in faster growth rates and enhanced flavor profiles. The only downside to this growing technique is that the guys never find pearls because the insides of their oysters are cleaner than those of the bottom dwellers.
The farm is directly across from Bird Island, and the cacophony of 10,000 birds is even louder than the whirring sound from the propellers. After anchoring the boat, Nally casually strips down to his bathing suit and surf shoes and jumps into the 60-degree water without a second thought. It’s the ultimate cold plunge, but if he feels the cold, he doesn’t show it; there’s too much work to do.
“You ready to get dirty?”
The waters of Rehoboth Bay may be pristine, but Nally’s question and smirking grin reinforce the message that oyster farming is a messy business. The first order of the day is to change out the older bags to address biofouling — the attachment of seaweed and algae that can affect the health and inhibit growth of new oysters. Nally selects three gnarly bags and hauls them over to the boat. I pull one onto the deck. Once he’s back on board, we empty the first bag onto the cleaning table, and I feel my stomach lurch. Mixed in with small crabs and tiny shrimp, the oysters are covered in muck. Suddenly, I’m glad to be wearing a pair of rubber gloves.
Following instructions, I start sorting; chefs prefer smaller oysters with well-shaped shells. Trying not to get distracted by Nally’s stories and the ravenous flock of waiting sea birds floating above me, I count out four batches of 100 oysters for same-day delivery. Nally and Kane care about how their oysters taste and look. The boat has a portable generator, sump pump, and pressure washer to clean the shells thoroughly. Always ready to quote DNREC requirements scripture and verse, Nally explains that he has to use approved water, and the easiest way is to clean them with water from where they’re growing.
When I ask if it’s hard to comply with the federal and state requirements, like logging the exact time oysters go in and come out of the water, Nally shrugs and offers a surprisingly pragmatic answer: “Everyone on the bay is aware of safety and works together to comply. If anyone gets sick from shellfish, they don’t care where it came from; it will affect all of us. When you are eating oysters in Delaware that came from Delaware, I feel really confident about safety.”
After harvesting and storing the oysters on ice, Nally checks the currents and wind direction before jumping back into the water; he regularly inspects the bags, floats, securing lines, and clips to ensure everything is in working order. As the oysters grow, Nally and Kane move them into bags with progressively larger mesh sizes and mark each with color-coded zip ties to indicate their growth stage. As they mature, the oysters are thinned out and spread across more bags to prevent overcrowding. It’s hard work, but at the end of the day, the two men are proud of what they’ve built together.
Nally explains that the warm temperatures, sandy bottoms, and high salinity of Rehoboth Bay are ideal. Still, not all farm sites are created equal: “The water here tastes different than the water on that side of the bay. It’s the fetch you’re getting from waves, all the swell, and the current. We have a really strong current on this side, and that side doesn’t, so they’re not as salty.”
Although Rehoboth Bay is known for its shallow depths and typically calm waters, aquafarming is still risky. Nally recalled a harrowing incident last winter when his lines got tangled in the boat’s propeller. Rough weather and a hefty chop made it hard to keep the boat steady. Determined to free the line, he put on his wetsuit and plunged into the frigid water. As a safety measure, he shared his location via iPhone with Kane and told him that if the location stopped moving, Nally was in the water and Kane should call the Coast Guard.
On another occasion, Nally slipped on a wet deck and hit his head — an accident reminiscent of what happened to poor Jennifer Coolidge in “White Lotus.” Fortunately, he fell into the boat rather than overboard. He takes no chances now, wearing a special life vest that automatically inflates if he falls into the bay.
Nally and Kane are the only local farmers offering premium catering services, bringing the freshest oysters and top-notch shuckers to events such as weddings and birthday parties. Nancy James Oysters can also be enjoyed at local restaurants, including Drift Seafood & Raw Bar and Lewes Oyster House. You can find them in person at the Bethany Farmers Market and the Historic Lewes Farmers Market. This summer, the couple will be shucking oysters live every Sunday afternoon at Aqua Bar & Grill. Oysters are always available for purchase online at nancyjamesoysters.com.
It’s another beautiful day when I make the short trip to town and park just outside Drift on Baltimore Avenue. Grabbing an empty seat at the outside bar window, I order without looking at the menu (at Drift, ask for the “Rehoboth Rose” oyster). In less time than it takes to check my phone, there are a dozen premium oysters in front of me — bedded in a tray of crushed ice, just waiting to be devoured.
Savoring the poetry of the presentation, I lift a shell to my mouth and slurp down the meat in one swallow. The taste is pure Delaware. Tom Wiswell, the former executive chef at Drift, describes it best: “It reminds me of being a kid at Rehoboth Beach and like a wave splashing you in the face. It’s fresh, briny, and salty.”
As I enjoy a swallow of a good glass of Cava and reach for another oyster, I realize why these exotic delicacies were dubbed “white gold.” Nearly a half-century older and wiser than that kid in the Hawaiian shirt at Tiki Gardens, I’ve finally realized that the hidden treasure inside the oyster was never the pearl.
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