Have you ever heard the phrase, “The world is my oyster?” Well in a way, that applied to me in my childhood, as I grew up in a small town in
Virginia that was heavily involved in the harvesting
and processing of oysters. The shells of the processed
oysters were often so plentiful that they were used to form roadbeds on private roads. This, of course, was back in the 1940s and 50s, when the Chesapeake Bay and its tributaries were blessed with an abundance of the tasty bivalves.
![](https://rgvctmn.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/oyster.png)