Airplane Wreckage Draws Customers To Flower Shop

ROUTE 2 -- A weekly journey through Anne Arundel County

February 27, 1991|By Angela Gambill

The wreckage of a yellow Piper Cub rests on the grass next to BWI airport. But for once, a hunk of twisted metal isn't scary -- it's partof the charming decoration at BWI Florists.

This is not your basic flower shop. A 16-foot-high green clock, imported from a mall in Virginia, presides over the plane, along withcast-iron wheels from old farm equipment.

"I like flowers, and he likes antiques," explains Ann Roes of her husband, Heinz, an electrician who haunts antique stores and auctions in his spare time.

The Roes' shop, which the two opened about five years ago, sells stuffed animals and bridal knickknacks, as well as flowers.

Bunnies in baseball uniforms peer past life-size brides. Heart-shaped pillows rest in a cabinet advertising the National Biscuit Co.

But the biggest drawing card is the collection of stuff out front. Customers stop by for flowers and to inquire about the wrecked plane, says Ann. When a tornado blew through recently, forcing the clock tower into a Leaning Tower of Pisa slant, worried visitors watched and took pictures.

"I got the plane from an airplane junkyard on the Eastern Shore," says her husband. "Somebody from the airport stopped by once and saw the registration number on it, and said the plane is still registered.I said, it doesn't look like it to me!"

The Roes hope to expand their shop to have room to display -- and possibly sell -- more antiques.

"I like these older things," Heinz explains. "Some people think it's junk, but I could talk about beer steins for three hours."

He has an old safe dating from 1879 with walls so thick they can't beblown up by dynamite, and old wind-up phonographs.

Another antique that sometimes sits outside the shop is an amphibious car made in 1967, the last of three years the cars were built in West Germany.

Then there's a 30-inch-wide Coca Cola sign and an antique railroad baggage cart.

"I've got all kinds of things," says the proprietor. "I'm guess I'm just an antique nut."

SOURCE: Angela Gambill


How utterly embarrassing. In last Friday's review of the Annapolis Chorale's very fine Gilbert and Sullivan songfest, I made a grievous error that demands Route 2 space for a "mea culpa."

In discussing these wonderful operettas, I -- for some reason -- named Sir William Gilbert as the composer. As any semi-aficionado knows, it was Sullivan who created all that agreeable music.

What an embarrassment. I am a former Major-General Stanley myself. The Chorale's written concert program contained a pair of part songs by Sir Arthur Sullivan. Why would I have written Gilbert? Think one and write the other, I guess. How ghastly.

To make matters worse, the error was pointed out to me by one of my most distinguished readers, a musicologist, no less. Oy.

I apologize for the inaccuracy.

And now, permit me to return to the soundtrack from "Oklahoma." Oy. That Hammerstein sure could spin out some beautiful melodies.

SOURCE:Phil Greenfield


When you name your sandwiches after politicians, your menu tends to turn over fairly often.

At Chick & Ruth's deli in Annapolis, the transition period is over and several new public officials will soon have their namesproudly displayed above the sandwich of their choice on the wall over the grill. The new menu should be ready by late March, said Ted Levitt, co-owner of the deli with his father, Chick.

The misspelled Jim Lightizer, which never did get a second "h" after the "t," will berenamed the Bobby Neall, after the new Anne Arundel county executive. Levitt said he's already made sure the Bobby Neall will be spelled with two l's. The sandwich is made of roast brisket of beef, lettuce and tomato with Russian dressing on rye.

The John Schmitt, a concoction of two beef burgers and fried onions on a kaiser roll, named after the Annapolis police chief who left in May, will be retired for the Hal Robbins, a sandwich made of ham, turkey, lettuce and Swiss cheese on wheat toast and named for Schmitt's successor.

"It's got about a half-pound of meat," Levitt said. "It's for people who are really hungry."

Good to know Robbins hasn't lost his appetite after four months on the job.

The sandwich named for former Montgomery County Executive Sidney Kramer will become the Laurence "Larry" Levitan,a grilled sandwich made of hot pastrami, Swiss cheese and Russian dressing on rye named for the Democratic state senator from Montgomery County. Neal Potter, who defeated Kramer in November's election, did not get a sandwich named after him.

Chick & Ruth's also will get anew celebrity sandwich, the deli's 29th, a concoction of turkey, bacon, lettuce and tomato on rye toast named for state Sen. Julian "Jack" L. Lapides, D-Baltimore.

Levitt said the deli names its sandwiches after regular customers. "They're people you know as friends," he said. "We honor them when we put it up there, so we don't rush to take them down."

The only sandwiches that stay the same are the president, the vice president and the Golda Meir, Levitt said. The deli writes to the president and vice president as those offices change occupants. "We usually get some sort of response, saying the sandwich is fine as is," Levitt said.

The deli also takes note of shifts in military power. "The Superintendent," named after the U.S. Naval Academy's leader, will be updated when Rear Adm. Virgil Hill relinquishes his command this summer. And the ice cream menu, named for Naval Academy figures, will see one change. "The Commandant" will be named for Capt. Michael Haskins, who is assuming the post from Rear Adm. Joseph W. Prueher.

SOURCE: Paul Shread

Baltimore Sun Articles
Please note the green-lined linked article text has been applied commercially without any involvement from our newsroom editors, reporters or any other editorial staff.