Hooligans

DUNETOWN

Dunetown is a city forged by Revolutionaries, hammered and shaped by rascals arid southern rebels,

and mannered by genteel ladies.

Dunetown is grace and unhurried charm, azalea-lined boulevards and open river promenades, parks

and narrow lanes; a city of squares; of ironwork and balustrades, shutters and dormers, porticoes and

steeples and dollops of gingerbread icing; of bricks, ballast, and oyster shells underfoot; a waterfront

place of massive walls and crude paving, of giant shutters on muscular hinges and winding stairwells

and wrought-iron spans; a claustrophobic vista where freighters glide by on the river, a mere reach

away, and sea gulls yell at robins.

It is a city whose heartbeat changes from block to block as subtly as its architecture; a city of

seventeenth-century schoolhouses, churches, and taverns; of ceiling fans and Tiffany windows, twostory atriums, blue barrel dormers, Georgian staircases and Palladian windows and grand, elegant

antebellum mansions that hide from view among moss-draped oaks and serpentine vines.

Dunetown is a stroll through the eighteenth century, its history limned on cemetery tablets: