Trip to the Cape gives visitors a dose of Heaven

Dick Doyle

Thursday, Oct. 9, 2008 | midnight

Dick Doyle

Some people call it a "suburb of Heaven."

The citizenry talks funny. But they smile a lot and live amidst stands of thousands of trees with a lake, a pond or a river around every corner.

And, I was there if only for a week.

My bride and I spent a week on Cape Cod and, even though but a few weeks have passed, it seems like it was long ago.

My brother and his wife spend their summers on the Cape, where she lived before they were married. Their home is a beautiful rambling structure, parts of it dating from a century ago, other parts added on as her family and the need for living space grew. The house is centered on a lot that would swallow a dozen tract condos in Las Vegas.

Broad expanses of green lawn, hundreds of flowering plants and the closest neighbors half a block away offer an entrance to a flowing river just across the street, a river that passes by their private dock and anchored motorboat.

The summer crowd had moved on when we arrived, but the area around West Harwich (not to be confused with Harwich, Harwich Port or East Harwich) was fresh and sunny. So were my brother and his wife. They immediately whisked us to Plymouth Rock (surrounded by scaffolding and barely visible). The rock is but a couple of feet across in any direction and doesn't seem like much of a landing place for 120 or so pilgrims.

Next was Plimoth (that's the way the pilgrims spelled it) Plantation and a stroll through the village as it was in the 1620s. Costumed docents, speaking the language of the day, told us of lives of amazing hardships, of a leased ship (the Mayflower) that returned to England empty of trade goods and of how, during that first year, half the hardy party perished.

I'll only say this once: the restaurants were jammed every noon and night and, where we stopped for a meal, were outstanding. And expensive. But the food was great. There!

One of the first things we noticed were all the American flags. They flew on most of the homes on the Cape. No special reason, we were told. Just that the people are patriotic, love their country and know how lucky they are to be living in the suburb of Heaven.

Many of the homes — which, by the way, are worth well into the millions — have flagpoles in their front yards. Others fly their flags from stanchions on their porch or on the main pillar that reaches to the front loft of their classic styled homes. I wish that habit would catch on in Las Vegas.

Not only are they into flying their national pennant, but they're looking, almost in unison, for another pennant — this one raised by the Boston Red Sox. When the Sox are on TV, traffic stops all over Massachusetts, you have to shout for a waiter, kids put aside their homework and the ancient Fenway Park sells out for the umpteen-hundredth straight game.

The people are friendly to a fault.

Cape Cod is home to several thousand year-round residents and several thousand others who stay for the summer and then head West to California or Colorado or Arizona for the winter. But everyone seems to know everyone else! Amazing. And, was everyone glad the tourists had gone (except for us, of course).

We also took an hour-long ferry trip to Martha's Vineyard, had lunch with a couple of my cousins who were so welcoming, got tours by car of every important city and town on the Cape, saw the spot from which Marconi sent his famous first radio signal across the Atlantic, walked part of the National Seashore, saw half a dozen lighthouses and, in general, looked at history until our eyes hurt.

A couple more observations: the homes are almost all built with shutters alongside almost every window and with aged shingle siding, just like in the movies.

White walls and green shutters are in the colors' majority.

The Cape's clam chowder cannot receive enough praise.

The Boston Globe had a front page story on construction worker deaths at Las Vegas's City Center, where the Perini Building Co., a Boston-area firm, is a contractor.

Many streets apparently are named for the first person who builds there. We saw Commander Murphy Road, Mary Ann McKay Avenue, etc.

And street signs are unique: "Thickly Settled" was one of my favorites, as was "Rural Area" in the midst of town!

Cape Cod is a beautiful and stately part of America. Its history has been preserved by generations of people who believed such preservation would be important to those who would follow into this suburb of Heaven. Collectively, the residents of Cape Cod have spent more than 380 years living up to those promises.

We were so thrilled and humbled that we were able to enjoy the results of those efforts, if only for a week.

Dick Doyle, a community volunteer and former newspaper editor, is a columnist for the Home News. He can be reached c/o the Home News, 2360 Corporate Circle, Third Floor, Henderson, NV 89074; by fax at 434-3527 or e-mail at editor@hbcpub.com.