Eileen Higham

In 1991 Dr. Eileen Higham began work on a book length history of Tuscany-Canterbury, where she and her husband John (d. 2003) had lived for twenty years. Long before she started on that project, however, Eileen was admired as a distinctive, even commanding, presence on Tuscany Road. Tall, statuesque, regularly attired in long, full skirts and eye-catching necklaces, she kept a close watch on neighborhood activities. She was quick to laud property improvements, particularly to gardens—and quick also to take action on irregularities. When work to enclose a front porch started on a house near the foot of Tuscany Road, for example, it was Eileen who noted the lack of a building permit and obliged the homeowner to meet that requirement.

 

With a flourishing practice as a psychologist, and having raised two sets of twins, Eileen had strong views on childrearing. Once, when my son was a baby and I was worrying about long nap times, Eileen fixed me with a firm gaze and pronounced, “Let sleeping dogs lie.” She was among the instigators of the annual Fourth of July celebration on Tuscany Court and could always be found in the middle of a large circle of neighbors, sharing strong opinions on the state of local and national politics, the medical profession, back-deck additions to neighborhood houses, and Maryland tomatoes.

She played an active role in getting Tuscany-Canterbury onto the National Register of Historic Places, and she testified eloquently before Baltimore’s Commission for Historical and Architectural Preservation (CHAP) about our neighborhood’s historical, cultural, and architectural significance.

Eileen’s commitment to neighborhood preservation and community standards comes through loud and clear in Tuscany-Canterbury, published by the Maryland Historical Society in 2004. Here Eileen traces the fascinating story of our neighborhood’s development from the late 17th century, when Charles Calvert, the first Lord Baltimore, awarded a land grant of 210 acres to Charles Merryman, who would build an estate called Clover Hill, to the beginning of the 21st century, when Calvert School’s expansion plans stirred up a contentious neighborhood pother. More than a historical record, however, Eileen’s book is a powerful demonstration of how the efforts of dedicated and principled residents can help shape, and even transform, the quality of a neighborhood’s fabric. This is Eileen Higham’s greatest legacy to Tuscany-Canterbury.