The Lights Are Off

Today we enjoyed a wonderfully sandy lunch after swimming in the ocean. It’s only mid-June, but the water was already surprisingly warm—inviting, refreshing, and the perfect way to spend a summer day. Afterward, we took the dogs on a short hike—not so much for their exercise as for our education.


Just across the bridge lies Roanoke Island, and beyond the charming little town of Manteo sits the mysterious site of the Lost Colony of Roanoke. Time to dust off those history hats. As much as I love history, even I had forgotten some of the details surrounding this remote and remarkable chapter of early American settlement.


Did you remember Virginia Dare? She was born here in 1587—the first English child born in the New World. This is also the site of the infamous message left carved into a tree: CROATOAN (or simply CRO), the only clue remaining after more than 100 settlers vanished without a trace. No bodies, no belongings—just that single, cryptic word.


The park ranger we spoke to today explained that many historians believe it was a reference to a nearby peaceful Native tribe, and that perhaps the settlers went there and assimilated. Others speculate that disease, conflict, or starvation may have played a role. Either way, the fate of the Lost Colony remains one of America’s greatest unsolved mysteries.


There’s not much of the original fort left—just grassy mounds and quiet paths—but the site is peaceful and well-preserved, part of a lovely National Park nestled into the island. A highlight was the waterfront theatre, where a local company stages a long-running outdoor drama titled The Lost Colony. The setting was striking and instantly reminded Gary and me of the Lincoln Amphitheatre in Santa Claus, Indiana—a place close to my heart.


For two summers, I was lucky to work alongside an incredible cast and crew there, performing Young Abe Lincoln. This year, many of those same talented friends are producing an original show, Here I Grew Up. To each of you: break a leg!I’m cheering from afar.