Is It The Last Stand For A Bethesda Farm Market?

By Jonathan Mummolo

They come for the giant purple heirloom tomatoes, for the homegrown Shiro plums, the peaches and the corn. Nestled in a shady patch on the side of River Road in Bethesda, the Country Thyme Farm Market has been a destination for soccer moms, commuters and Montgomery County foodies for 10 years.

Little did these shoppers know they were in the clutches of a "safety hazard" that entire time.

"It doesn't present a safe environment for them," said Kellie Boulware, spokeswoman for the Maryland State Highway Administration, explaining why the agency has given the fruit stand until Wednesday to relocate. "It's a very heavily traveled corridor."

Why did the state suddenly decide to crack down on Country Thyme after a decade of accident-free operation? The answer can be traced to one of the county's less-revered institutions: Robin Ficker.

Widely known for his decades-long lobbying for anti-tax laws known as "Ficker amendments," his heckling of opposing players at Washington Bullets basketball games in the 1990s and his run-ins with the state bar over sloppy legal work, Ficker, a Bethesda lawyer and former state delegate, has proved time and again that he can turn anything -- even fresh produce -- into the seed of a countywide kerfuffle.

This latest controversy began when a complaint about "dumping" led state highway officials to Ficker's son Rob's food stand a few miles up River Road, near Carderock Springs Drive. Rob Ficker, 31, who had been at the location for more than three years, had amassed a pile of mulch, which he planned to use as bedding around his stand, he said. The state didn't care much about the mulch, but once officials realized Ficker's stand had been using state property, they ordered him to find a new location.

He did. But his father, never one to let an order go unquestioned, was not about to leave the issue there.

Robin Ficker, 66, tipped the state to another stand on River Road, asking why it should be allowed to stay open if his son's stand was ousted, highway officials said. Again, the state investigators rolled into action, demanding that Country Thyme, which sits on a patch of roadside just outside the Kenwood Golf and Country Club, relocate.

Country Thyme patrons say Ficker is being petty.

"It sounds like he's a mean guy," said Donna Damico, a nurse from Takoma Park, while buying some peaches. "It sounds like he needs to take some Prozac and calm down. What does he care" if Country Thyme stays open?

State Sen. Brian E. Frosh (D-Montgomery) -- who, along with some local delegates, has tried to intervene with the highway administration on behalf of Country Thyme -- summed up Ficker's reputation more diplomatically.

"He's very adept at bringing the limelight to issues he's interested in, and this is a good example of that," said Frosh, who agrees with Ficker that the state should let the food stands be. "Nobody's wrong 100 percent of the time."

Ficker said he wasn't out to wreck Country Thyme's business, but rather to seek equal treatment. "I didn't say, 'You have to shut them all down,' " he said. "I said to them: 'How come you're just focusing on one stand? What about the policy here?' "

Ficker said that despite the highway agency's apparent concern about safety at roadside stands, state law contains an exemption allowing seafood vendors to set up along state roads because of "Maryland's unique seafood heritage," according to a letter he received from the state regarding his son's stand.

Ever on the hunt for ulterior motives, Ficker said he "wouldn't be surprised" if the tax amendment he finally got passed last year -- which limits the ability of the County Council to exceed the limit on property tax revenue -- or Country Thyme's proximity to the country club had something to do with his son being singled out.

"They should take these State Highway Administration people and put them in stocks up in Rockville so people can throw peaches and tomatoes at them," Ficker said. "I'm not saying they should be physically harmed, but to me, this is how ridiculous this thing is."

Both Country Thyme and the younger Ficker had county permits to operate, but those don't apply since the roadside is on state property, Boulware said. Several lawmakers are trying to work out a compromise for the stand's owner, Jonathan Sadd, but as of now, this is D-Day for Country Thyme, when authorities might force the stand to leave.

On Tuesday, Sadd's attorney, Eric H. Singer, sought a temporary restraining order in Montgomery County Circuit Court, arguing that the state violated the stand owner's due process rights by not letting him challenge the finding that his business poses a traffic hazard. The matter will go before a judge Wednesday, Singer said.

A state highway official "came out there in five minutes and said it was unsafe," Sadd, 38, said. "We've been there for 10 seasons, we've never had an incident. . . . It's kind of a mess."

The stand's plight has spawned a modest movement among customers, who are now greeted by a large yellow sign reading "WE NEED YOUR HELP," and the phone number for highway administrator Neil J. Pedersen. Sadd is also in talks with a church up River Road about using its parking lot for his business, he said.

Customers hope the stand can win a reprieve. "It's very convenient," said Elizabeth Naden, an oil painter from Potomac, who was picking up a large red onion with its long green stems still attached, a subject for her next still life. "I don't think it's hurting anybody."