Top and Cathy

With no kids to talk about, Cath and I have a million stories about our dogs, particularly our first dog, Top. Don’t parents always have the most pictures and stories about their first born?! A German friend called Top “Einmalig”, which translates to “one of a kind”. This story, from 1981, involved Top, Cathy hitting a tree with our car, the MPs, the German Polizei and a little old lady. We were stationed in Würzburg, Germany at the time.

Cathy and Top, Around the Time of the Story.

Cathy had been shopping at the commissary and was returning home with both Top and our groceries in the back seat. Here is her version of what happened.

#—#

Top and I were on our way home from shopping at the commissary at Leighton Barracks in Würzburg one afternoon. As we entered a traffic circle, I must have been going a little too fast, as the groceries fell over onto Top and scared him. Out of my peripheral vision I saw him try and jump out my car window. I caught him by the collar and pulled him back into the car, but of course I didn’t pay attention to where I was driving. When I looked back at the road I was heading straight for a tree, which I hit. I must have only glanced off of it because the car was fine, or so I thought at the time.

I kept driving and stopped at a red light, where reaction to the accident set in. I said to Top in the back seat, “Well at least we are still together and OK!” I looked in the back and Top wasn’t there – he jumped out of the window after all. I pulled over and imagining the worst, got out of the car and looked under it, making sure I hadn’t dragged him by his leash. No Top there, so that was a small bit of grace, but where was he, and what to do?

I was near the American MP station, so I drove there.  I repeated the story of what happened, and they decided it would be prudent to call the Polizei.  

In Germany, they treat their animals and trees well. Really well. If you illegally kill an animal or damage or fell a tree, there are hefty fines. Hearing we were involving the PoIizei, I naturally became concerned and worried about both them and a potential fine. My only real interaction with the Polizei up to this time was at the German airports where they guarded against terrorists, were always in riot gear and carrying automatic weapons.  You didn’t mess around with them.

The Polizei arrived and looked a bit stern at first.  I explained everything again, this time in German, and at one point I think I saw one of the Polizei hiding a laugh or a small smirk.  I should point out you generally didn’t see the Polizei laughing.   In this instance they were quite nice and helpful.  We determined the tree wasn’t really damaged and they let me go with a warning to drive more carefully.  

As I was getting ready to leave, it turned out something was wrong with the car, as it was making a funny noise. The MPs and I decided to leave the car at the MP station and have someone pick me up. We called Hindenburg Kaserne where Max was stationed, but he had deployed to an undisclosed location in the field and was unreachable. His company said they would send Lieutenant Smrt (yes, that really was his last name – it had no vowels) from his Company to pick me up.

I was waiting on a corner for LT Smrt’s arrival when all of a sudden Top, seemingly without a care, trotted down the sidewalk towards me, trailing his leash. I grabbed him and sat on the corner hugging and holding him, crying tears of joy and relief. A little old lady who was walking by, stopped and asked me what was wrong and “Ist dein Hund krank?” (Is your dog sick?) I looked at her and just couldn’t go through the story a third time, and for a second time in German. I said the easiest thing that came to mind. “Ja. Er hat Krebs.” (Yes, he has cancer.) She petted Top, wished us good luck and looking sad, walked away.

We’ve told this story over the years and it always gets a chuckle. I laugh at myself a bit in the telling. We spoke fluent, or near fluent German at the time, but I was so overwhelmed with emotions, the “Krebs” story was the best I could do. 

#—#

Top was with us for 16 years, dying, not of cancer, but old age in 1997. By then he was a world traveler, having crossed the Atlantic three times, visited numerous European countries and several States back home. He truly was Einmalig and we still miss him and his antics.

Top – With and Without a Haircut.

Addendum:

Here are three previous blogs about Top.

• I don’t know if our dog,Top, could bark in both German and English, but he had a fluent understanding of the two languages … We discovered this outside our local Bäckerei (Bakery), when an old German lady bent down, looked at Top and said “Gib mir deine Pfote”. As she extended her hand, Top […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2020/07/15/our-bilingual-dog-top/
• Next month, it will be 25 years since our first dog, Top, passed away. He was 17 at the time. I was recently thinking about him, as we placed baskets on couches and chairs, so our current dog, Carmen, couldn’t hop up for a quick snooze while we were out. We weren’t that smart with Top. He was a covert couch sleeper the entire […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2021/12/01/let-sleeping-dogs-lie/
• Top was our first dog, but not our last. When he died in 1997 at seventeen years of age, I think we cried for three days. We still have a book with all of the sympathy cards our friends sent us. If you want to know a bit more about Top, here’s the eulogy we read when we spread his ashes at Tibbet Knob, on the border between Virginia and West Virginia […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2017/01/09/top/

Dear God,

Dear God, I ask that you guide me, so I do not become a bitter old man. There are so many of them these days. Angry at women, angry at youth, angry at our country, angry at you. Their’s is a seemingly endless list. Often, they appear angry at everything except themselves. Do not let me become that person.

God, I know in our youth, we laughed at angry old men. We didn’t see us becoming them, and yet so many have. They look back with fondness to the “good old days”. I look back, and I’m not sure I see the good times they long for. Which years are they talking about? The depression in the ‘30s? The 400,000 American Soldiers or 75 million who died during WWII? The Korean War, threat of nuclear escalation and racial segregation of the ‘50s? Vietnam along with the racial and civil strife during the ‘60s and ‘70s? The market crashes in ‘87, 2000, ‘07 and 2020? September 11th, 2001? Our recent decades of war in Iraq and Afghanistan?

Lord, I know the world isn’t perfect. We all have problems in our lives. I have problems in my life. Still, I try to see the passing beauty and goodness of each and every day. Why do others choose not to see this? A sunrise or sunset … Flowers … A flock of birds passing overhead … A playful pet … The sounds of nature … The crack of a bat at a baseball game …. There are so many things to be thankful for.

Instead, their hatred, frustration and self-censorship consume their minds, allowing no other sights or sounds to enter. Indeed, my own voice must sound like a clanging bell or siren to them, not penetrating their consciousness, only infuriating them all the more.

God, why do we now have a nation of Howard Beales*, old men who are mad as hell, and aren’t going to take it anymore? Are they not aware Howard was not only “mad as hell”, but also just plain mad? It was network TV for Howard. For the madmen of today, we see it not only on TV, but in their Facebook posts, tweets, messages and email exchanges with those of us who were their friends.

Thank you for listening Lord. I know you are busy. Please help and guide me. Allow me to keep balance in my life. Maybe you could also shine a little light for others as well. Help them also regain some balance. As I learned from the Cadet Prayer years ago, “Kindle our hearts in fellowship with those of a cheerful countenance, and soften our hearts with sympathy for those who sorrow and suffer.”

I ask this in your name,

Amen.

Addendum:

• * For those of you who don’t recall Howard Beale, here’ a link to the key scene in the movie, “Network”, which was released in 1976 (according to at least some people, part of the good old days). Mad Mr Beale takes to the air waves and, well you can see for yourself here if you’ve forgotten the scene https://youtu.be/GFzlm9wQ4MI
• The photo at the top of the blog is from “Praying Hands”, a pen-and-ink drawing by the German painter and theorist Albrecht Dürer. Completed in 1508, Wikipedia says it is “the most widely reproduced depiction of prayer in the Western World”.

A Road not Taken

When I left the Army 32 years ago in 1992, I had several good job opportunities. One of those was with a new company called Cisco Systems, where my buddy Dave tried to recruit me. He started there in ‘91 and retired a multimillionaire in ‘99. Looking back, it’s a classic “What if…”

After graduating from West Point, my first two tours were in the “muddy boots” Army with 3ID and then VII Corps in Germany. Returning to the States, the Army, in its infinite wisdom, sent me to grad school and I earned a master’s in electrical engineering. Deploying back to Europe in ‘85, the engineering group I was with started designing and implementing something new both for the Army and the world – Computer Local Area Networks (LANs) and Community Area Networks (CANs), eventually connecting them to DoD’s worldwide network. Remember this was all before the World Wide Web started in 1991 and was revolutionary. Hardly anyone even had email at the time. (My first email account was in ‘88 and was actually one account for seven of us in our office).

In our implementations, Dave and I started working with Cisco Systems, which developed the first commercial “router”. Without getting technical, routers enable different computer networks to talk with each other and were one of the necessary physical building blocks for what became the Web. The work we were doing was new enough that we were selected to make a presentation at a NATO Technical Conference in 1989 in Brussels, Belgium.

In ‘89, I returned to the States. Meanwhile, in ‘90 or ‘91 Dave left the Army and was hired by Cisco. Living in London, he became their sales engineer for Eastern Europe and Northern Africa.

Fast forward a couple more years to ‘92. The first Gulf War had ended in victory. The Berlin Wall fell a couple years before, and the USSR was falling apart. The Army decided it would downsize and started offering early-out packages.

I had been promoted to Major in the summer of ‘91 and was in a classified engineering job in the DC area at the time. I wanted to get back to the “muddy boots Army”, but the Army had decided to track me as an engineer and that wasn’t going to happen. After considering all options, in early March of ‘92 I decided it was time to leave the Army and started looking for a job in the civilian world.*

Major Hall Near Retirement Time

Pre-Internet, there were really only two ways to apply for a job – getting referrals from people you knew (always the best) or scanning the ads in newspapers. I was diligent with both and was soon interviewing for several opportunities. In the middle of all of this, Dave returned from London for a short trip and we got together for dinner.

As we talked, Dave grew animated — “I have a great job for you, and you are perfect for it. Cisco is expanding in Europe and we need engineers who understand the technology. It would be an easy transition, although you’d need to move back to Europe.”

I asked Dave to tell me more about what he was doing for Cisco.

“Well, as you know, I live in London – absolutely great city. On Monday morning I head to Heathrow and fly with a sales guy to somewhere in Eastern Europe or Northern Africa. We spend the week there working through sales opportunities. He handles the corporate part, and I work the technical. We also do follow up with locations where we’ve already sold systems. Of course, there are plenty of opportunities for fun while in those countries as well. On Friday, I fly back to London, party in the city and do laundry. On Monday I wake up and repeat the cycle.”

I should mention Dave was single at the time.

I looked at him and he looked back at me. “If you want the job, it’s yours. I can make it happen. It would be a combination of salary, stock and stock options”.** I asked how long he was in town for and said I’d get back to him in a couple of days.

I thought about the opportunity and Cath and I talked about it. While it had great potential, there were also several items in the “no” column. Cath and I spent almost the entire decade of the 80s in Europe, and although we loved it, we missed a decade’s worth of time with family and friends back home, including watching our nieces and nephews grow up. Cath’s career was taking off here in the States – after following me around in the army for over 13 years, was it fair to uproot her again? She also had a new horse and we would need to sell it. At the time, it was also a problem bringing a dog into England and would require months of quarantine there – did we want to subject our dog, Top, to that? And, ultimately, did we want to return to Europe for the kind of life it would be – me on the road five days a week? I’d travelled extensively during my time in the Army, but typically for a week or ten days at a time every month or two. This was a completely different beast.

Of course, Cisco wasn’t yet what it would later become. At the time, it was a small company making a box that would become (but we didn’t know it yet) instrumental in the Internet and a new-fangled idea called the “World Wide Web” – who knew what kind of future they would actually have?

In the end, it was an easy decision to make. I let Dave know I was appreciative of the offer, but had to say no.

Farewell Luncheon from the Army

Cath and I ended up staying in the DC area where I had a dozen interviews and half-a-dozen offers. I joined a company called SRA and enjoyed a wonderful career. Later I was COO at a smaller company called Pragmatics. Both companies were good to me and I retired in 2013 at the age of 58.

And Dave? Dave rode the fast train at Cisco. Cisco went public in 1990, about a decade before the dot-com bubble. According to Forbes, the company was the top-performing Initial Public Offering (IPO) of the 1990s. It reached a peak market capitalization of $555 billion during the height of the dot-com craze, briefly making it the most valuable company in the world. Dave returned to the States in the mid 90s and continued working for Cisco at their headquarters in California. He retired in 1999, cashed in his options and bought a house in Los Gatos, CA and a Porsche. We remained friends and attended his wedding a few years later. One of the smartest guys I know, he went on to work with at least two more startups.

As for Cisco, well, other things happened. The dot-com bubble peaked on Friday, March 10, 2000. Over the next two years Cisco lost 80% of its stock value, but was one of the lucky ones. It rode out the storm and is still around today, still a cornerstone in the Information Technology industry. Many companies went bankrupt or just disappeared during that period of time. I knew several friends who were paper millionaires in the late ‘90s. Almost all of them were looking for new jobs in the early 2000s.

Cisco Systems – The Rise. And the Fall.

Over the years I’ve told the story more than a few times at my own expense. The questions I usually get are “Do you regret it? Do you think about being so close to the opportunity of a lifetime and missing it?”

The truth is, I have occasionally thought about it off and on. I mean, who wouldn’t? It makes a great story. I also often think to myself, yea, I might have become rich as hell by ‘99, but I also might have been divorced. Not that Cathy and I were having any problems at the time, we weren’t. But returning to Europe? On the road that much? Putting our lives back home on hold again for the foreseeable future?

We all have paths and choices in our lives. We never really know how things might have worked out on the other road, do we? Better? Worse? Who knows? I (we) have been pretty happy on the path chosen back in the spring of ‘92. I have no regrets.

Occasionally, in my mind’s eye, through the haze of an alternate future I see myself in a Porsche driving along Highway 1 in California, the sun setting over the Pacific Ocean. About half the time, I seem to be alone in the car.

Addendum:

• * When I was considering leaving the Army in ‘92, my thought process was only about whether to stay in the Army or not. On purpose, I didn’t cloud the decision with thoughts of a particular job, or salary. It sounds a bit crazy perhaps, but the choice, in my mind, was about Army, or no Army for me. After I decided to leave the Army is when I started looking for a job.
• ** To put the chance to work for Cisco in perspective, An investment of $10,000 at Cisco’s IPO in 1990 would now amount to around $6.6 million, and that excludes the dividends they started paying in 2011. Of course, an offer with stock and options would have pushed those numbers significantly higher.
• I did work extensively with Cisco Systems in the late ‘90s when I was a lead engineer for the Pentagon Renovation Program. As the building was gutted one wedge at a time, we were replacing and updating the computer networks then in use. Cisco’s switches and routers were deployed across parts of the Pentagon. At some point I was given this coffee mug, which somehow ended up at my sister Roberta’s home in Illinois. When visiting her, I often use the mug and smile, thinking about alternate lives.

Who Are These Old People?

I was sitting in my cardiologist’s waiting room and looked around. My immediate thought was, “Wow, there are a lot of older people here”. And then I smiled, because I am of course one of those “older people”. Older is a relative word, but if the shoe fits…

When I was younger, one of the phrases I never thought I would utter was “my cardiologist”. That all changed after I was bitten by a copperhead* and developed AFIB in the summer of 2012. I’ve been in continual AFIB since then, although, honestly, I don’t usually notice it and have continued all of my normal activities.

Yes, I Really was Bitten by a Copperhead.

It did add to the number of drugs I take. For decades, I didn’t need any pills. Oh sure, I took the occasional aspirin or later, ibuprofen, and in the springtime took an allergy pill, but that was about it. Over time, things changed.

First, my allergy pill went from only spring to about three quarters of the year after moving to the farm.

Next came a statin. I spent a couple of years trying to control my cholesterol with diet alone, and while it dropped some, it wasn’t enough. I was tracking my meals at the time and even after I went three months with 90% vegetarian meals it didn’t drop significantly. So, Atorvastatin was added to my mix of drugs and it dropped like a rock. And because atorvastatin can affect CoQ10 levels in the body, it was suggested I take a CoQ10 supplement. It turns out your cells — especially your mitochondria — need CoQ10 to make energy. Decreased CoQ10 levels in the body could mean your muscles have less energy, leading to muscle aches and pains. Pill number three was added.

LDL Cholesterol – Pre and Post Statin – Just Take the Drug!

My doctor and I spent quite a bit of time talking about health in general. In addition to meat, I reduced the amount of dairy in my diet as many people do. Cheese was practically a food group for me for decades, and I cut it back quite a bit. We also talked about sun exposure and increased chances of skin cancer. I started wearing hats more and didn’t spend as much time in the sun.

Perhaps it was no surprise at my next annual physical I showed a Vitamin D deficiency. My doctor suggested I add a vitamin D supplement to my regime. I countered, “We didn’t have this problem before cutting back on dairy and staying out of the sun. Perhaps I should eat more cheese, while working on my tan.” She smiled but I’m not quite sure she enjoyed my sense of humor. I dutifully added pill number 4, a chewable Vitamin D tablet.

After AFIB started, I went from a baby aspirin to a whole aspirin to, eventually, the blood thinner Eliquis. There’s a stroke history on my dad’s side of the family. He, along with an uncle and two of my cousins suffered strokes. When my younger sister, Tanya, had one a few years back, I told my cardiologist, who immediately said it was time to go on a blood thinner.

With the addition of Eliquis, I upped my morning intake to five different pills. I bought one of those neat little weekly pill box containers to dole out my daily stash. I chuckled a bit at that as well. Years ago on visits home, I remember rolling my eyes as mom dutifully filled her and dad’s pill boxes for the week.

Up to Five Pills Every Morning

Cardiologists and pill containers – yep, I am getting a wee bit older. As RiffRaff sings in Rocky Horror, “It’s astounding, time is fleeting…”.**

Maybe it’s not so much astounding as inevitable and we all know it. Still, you have to enjoy the trip and occasionally chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Otherwise, what’s the point?

Addendum:

• *Yes I really was bitten by a copperhead. You can read about it here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/copperhead-hunting-in-flip-flops/
• ** I felt compelled to drop in the quote from “Time Warp” in Rocky Horror, but maybe that just makes me look older as well ;-). Do younger folk today still watch the movie?

Making Espresso

When we returned from Germany in ‘83 there were many things we missed from our 4 1/2 years in Europe. One of those items was coffee. Good Coffee. Cathy rectified that by buying me a small Espresso/Cappuccino Maker for Christmas that year. 40 years later, it still brews decent coffee, even if it looks old and outdated.

We were happy to return to the States, but in addition to good coffee, there were a number of things we missed from our time overseas, including good bier and cheese. The craft bier movement wouldn’t really hit its stride in the US until the ‘90s. As a result, Michelob or Heileman’s Special Export were what passed for top-shelf domestic beer at the time. The cheese market in the states consisted of American, Swiss and Cheddar once you were outside of Wisconsin or a couple of places in New York and Northern California. That too would change, but in the early ‘80s, it was a desert. Of course you could buy imported beer (back then, Lowenbrau or Heineken), or imported cheese, but there weren’t any real American products. I was further mystified to find the concept of a charcuterie board hadn’t reached the States – how was it possible something we routinely ate for lunch in a German Gasthaus didn’t even exist here?! And don’t get me started on wine…

Yes, I know this all sounds like an old man rant, and if I were saying it now, it would be. I was saying this in 1983, at the grand old age of 28.

Back to coffee. ;-).

Coffee in Germany and Europe was so much more than just a pot of brewed coffee. The Europeans made stronger coffee in general – not more bitter, just stronger and with great flavor. At the Gasthäuser (local restaurants) we visited, it was always made fresh – it wasn’t from a pot that was sitting for hours. In the afternoon, you could visit a Konditorei (the German word for a pâtisserie or confectionery shop) for a coffee and a sweet treat of some sort. The coffees varied from regular, to espresso, to cappuccino, to café au lait (coffee with a separate small pitcher of hot steamed and slightly frothed milk you added to your coffee). One of our great pleasures was sitting outside at a cafe in Berlin, or Paris, or Vienna, or Monte Carlo or any number of cities having a coffee, while watching the world pass by. I become nostalgic even today thinking about it.

There wasn’t the same type of coffee availability here in the States in ‘83. Starbucks started in Seattle in 1971, but didn’t really begin expanding until the late ‘80s. Although local coffee shops existed in some places, The “Local Coffee Shop” was an idea that hadn’t yet come into its own.

At the time, we were stationed in Dayton, Ohio. At a local mall, we discovered a shop that sold coffee beans. (I can’t remember if you could actually also buy a cup of coffee there or not.) In any case, we bought a grinder, and started grinding our own beans for our regular coffee pot at home and were able to make a stronger cup of coffee. We also bought espresso beans and used our Italian stovetop espresso maker (known as a Moka pot, it cost all of $6 when we bought it in Italy in ‘82 – I see they run $25 plus on Amazon now) to make a decent espresso. Half the problem was solved.

Our Old Moka Pot Also Still Works Well.

Cathy solved the other half of the problem that Christmas when she gave me an Espresso/Cappuccino maker. I was thrilled and started using it that very day. It became a fixture at our house and if you visited us in the ‘80s through the mid ‘90s, I practically forced a coffee on you

A Great Christmas Present in 1983!

Espressos? Sure. In addition, my after-dinner cappuccinos became a point of pride and were quite good, if I do say so myself. I’d add a capful of Cointreau for a sweetener and grind a little fresh nutmeg on the top of the foam. We also did Irish Cappuccinos. I think you know how I made those.

Somewhere along the way, other manufacturers started selling upscale Espresso machines of better quality. Now days, you can easily spend between $500 and $1,600 on a high-end espresso/coffee maker. Breville, Rancillo, Gaggia and others all make excellent machines … at a price. Over the years, I looked at a couple of them, but never pulled the trigger. We have a couple of friends who own them. One uses his religiously. Another found it more trouble than it was worth and it now sits on the counter, mostly unused. For my friends* that own super nice espresso machines and are real aficionados, good for you, and I’m happy for you. I’m sure you can probably make a better espresso than I can, and that’s OK.

Coffee shops are now ubiquitous here and these days you can’t trip without falling into one of them. They generally make great coffee. There are a few good local shops near us not named Starbucks, and I prefer those. If you ask, they’ll serve you your coffee in an actual coffee cup – not some crap paper cup.

Over time, I backed off using our little machine quite as much. Life was too busy, or I’d lost interest. And then, after retiring about a decade ago, I started using it more again. Usually, it’s in the afternoon and Cath and I feel the need for a little pick-me-up. I’ll make us cappuccinos and we take a break from life and sit and sip our coffees for ten or fifteen minutes. It’s a nice pause, especially on a winter day with fresh snow outside.

Yes, It Still Makes a Decent Cappuccino. Nutmeg and Cointreau are Optional.

Yes, over the last forty years, we here in the States have caught up to Europe on bier, cheese, good everyday wine and even charcuterie boards. As for coffee, I’m guessing we have more coffee shops than Europe now days.

At home, I would bet we’ve gone through five or six regular coffee machines since 1983. They die every six or seven years. Our Maxim Espresso Machine? It’s a little banged up but works fine and keeps chugging along. How many forty-year-old machines do you have in your home you can say the same thing about?

Addendum:

• * I do know there are lots of great espresso makers out there, and that those of you who have them can pull a better shot, with more crema than I can. I certainly mean no criticism of those machines and am, at least a little, envious of you. My point in this blog was about my machine being 40 years old, and there’s not much that lasts that long anymore. Still, it’s interesting. In Italy, rather than buying an elaborate espresso machine, over 3/4 of the country still uses their stove-top espresso machine (Moka pots) everyday for their first cup of coffee. You can read more about the Moka pot here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moka_pot
• The blue coffee cup with my name on it is a bit precious to me. It was a gift from our old friend Tim in ‘80 or ‘81. He bought it while visiting us in Germany and gave it as a gift. Tim passed away last December.

Valentine’s Day

I’m one of those guys who, although not always in a timely fashion, notices milestones in my life. It turns out this Valentine’s Day is the 51st Cathy and I have shared. Yea, our first was in 1973, when we were both students at Ottawa High School.

Cath and I in the OHS Yearbook for ‘73

At the time, we had been dating for about eight months. I have no memory of what we did on that momentous occasion. Cathy doesn’t either. 🙂

At Homecoming Dance, a few Months Before our First Valentine’s Day.

When I was at West Point, with Cathy in DC, we were always apart and sent letters or cards to each other for the big day. (You remember letters don’t you?) Later in the ‘80s during our tours of duty in Germany with the Army, I’m sure we were separate on at least half of those Valentine’s Day, with me deployed on maneuvers or Temporary Duty somewhere. We probably enjoyed a celebratory dinner after I returned home, but again, I don’t remember.

It’s only since the ‘90s and civilian life that I think we’ve regularly celebrated Valentine’s Day. I know we did trips away or dinners out at nice restaurants several times. Later, we became tired of the rush and crowding of restaurants and celebrated more at home. A nice dinner – steaks, or a special pasta dish, or maybe a cheese and charcuterie board with champagne in front of the fireplace. Sometimes there were gifts, sometimes not.

I was thinking about our past celebrations, as I’ve seen ads in the lead-up to Valentine’s Day this year – Godiva or Ferrero Rocher chocolates; flower delivery services; special cards from Hallmark; sexy underwear; and of course, jewelry, including Kay’s and Pandora. The New York Times even ran an article about “The 31 best Valentine’s Day gifts for her”. One of the “great” things about America is we always find a way to make a buck off of anything.

More Suggestions of Chocolate, Underwear, Flowers and Fake Flowers.

I took a further trip down memory lane and reread our wedding vows. We had dutifully recited, as many couples do, “For better, for worse; For richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; … as long as we both shall live…” I also reread what Reverend Fred Fullerton*, my high school classmate and the minister at our wedding, asked for in prayer concerning our marriage: “strengthen and deepen it through time… steady it by toil… crown it with greatness through self-discipline… purify it in the crucible of our inevitable human pain…”

Fred’s Thoughtful Prayer for our Marriage and Life Together.

We’ve certainly seen for better and worse, trying financial times and our fair share of sickness. I like to think our love has strengthened and deepened over time and we have constantly worked at our marriage over our years together. Challenges and pain have happened, as they inevitably do. As is always the case, how we respond to those challenges is more important than the challenge itself.

In the past year, we’ve had constant reminders of both the joy and the fragility of life. We have celebrated good times with family and friends. We’ve also witnessed deaths with some of those same friends and family members. We’ve confronted new injuries and diseases, both our own and other folk’s. Lately, our lives seem to be on one of those roller coasters all of us occasionally experience.

51 years. Cripes, that’s over half a century. We still enjoy celebrating Valentine’s Day and I think have learned to take nothing in life for granted. This year, we are staying home and will keep it simple – Steak Diane and a nice red wine. We’ll celebrate our past. And then, we’ll clink our glasses and toast our future together for as long as we both shall live.

I love you hon….

Addendum:

• Reverend Fred Fullerton was my good friend and high school classmate in the OHS class of ‘73. He was also our class president. He became a minister in the Nazarene Church. We are very proud to have been the first marriage service he preformed.

Mooseburgers

The last time I saw Tim, I was back in Ottawa for my Brother-in-Law Jack’s funeral. I didn’t know it would be the last time, although I suspected it might. Mark, Howard and I were invited to Tim and Renee’s home for a lunch of Mooseburgers, with Tim serving as grill master.

Cath and I had visited Tim and Renee a few weeks before, while in Ottawa for my 50th high school reunion. After flying into Chicago, we stopped by and spent a few hours at their place in St Charles. It was good to catch up. They were supposed to make the reunion as well, but couldn’t. At the time, Tim was a 4+ year pancreatic cancer survivor, but things were going downhill the last couple of months prior to the reunion.

When Jack died of brain cancer a couple of weeks later, I returned for his services and to see my sister Roberta. I called Tim and Renee to see if we might get together, and I think Tim came up with the idea of the group lunch. Old buddies, Mark and Howard were invited and both quickly said yes. The five of us met on the 14th of October.

Tim, Howard and I have known each other since before kindergarten. Mark came on the scene around 5th grade and we have all been buddies ever since. As to Renee, Tim and Renee met through Cath and I in the early ‘90s. What started as friendship turned into love, and they married.

Tim and Renee’s Wedding.

The lunch was a good time. Renee made some wonderful appetizers and our conversations were wide-ranging. Yes, we talked about Tim’s cancer, but we also talked about the Bears and the White Sox, and as is inevitable when together, retold stories from our youth and good times together over the years.

After a while, Tim shuffled out to the grill and cooked the Mooseburgers. They’d brought the ground moose back last summer from their annual vacation to their place in Maine. I believe a cousin shot the moose and gave them some of the burger. Renee let us know that although he was weaker, Tim insisted on cooking. The burgers were great, and cooked perfectly. There was more talk and Tim, his voice somewhat raspy, eventually grew tired. It was time to go. We hugged Renee, fist-bumped Tim and said our goodbyes and “I love you’s”. Mark drove north to Wisconsin, while Howard and I headed south. It was the last time all of us were together.

Mooseburgers

Tim and I continued to text almost daily after that. The last one from him was on November 8th, when he congratulated me on the Virginia election results. After that, the link went silent. Cath and I stayed in contact with Renee and others, and knew Tim’s condition was worsening. Late on the night of December 4th, Renee called and let us know Tim passed away. After talking a while longer, I sent our love her way and hung up the phone. I silently cried dry tears.

I’ve known Tim for about 65 of my 68 years. Tim…June…Junebug… There are so many stories. Although I know there are groans in some quarters when we re-tell them for the 1,000th time, they still bring a smile to my face. In my mind, rather than a film, I see thousands of snapshots of our times together. The number of actual photos is more limited. Unlike now, back in the day we didn’t have the technology, or the desire, to capture everything going on. I think our lives are a little richer for that.

The “snapshots” of those times blur together. Some of the memories are blurry as well, while others are crystal clear. They span two continents, several states and seven decades.

I can turn the kaleidoscope of those decades in my mind and several pictures emerge – earning my God And Country Scout award in ‘68 with Tim and Howard; Tim, Howard and Mark serving as groomsmen for Cathy’s and my wedding in ‘78; multiple visits by Tim and Howard to our home in Germany in the ‘80s; introducing Tim and Renee in the ‘90s and then they married; ski trips to West Virginia in the ‘90s and 2000s with Tim never leaving the cabin; wonderful Bordeaux Dinners at Tim and Renee’s home near Chicago in the 201Xs; all four couples together at Camp Kishauwa in ‘22.

Tim, Howard and I Receiving our God and Country Awards.

I turn the kaleidoscope a second time and different pictures emerge – in the 60s, Tim and I in Boy Scouts sharing a tent at Camp Kishauwa; the Ottawa Gluttons eating team at OHS in ‘73; shipping a keg of bier from Germany to Tim in Chicago in ‘86; visiting Tim and Howard at their iconic Chicago apartment on numerous occasions in the ‘90s; New Year’s Eve dinners at the farm with Tim and Renee in ‘99 and the 2000s; Cath and I visiting Tim and Renee’s beloved Maine for a vacation; endlessly talking and texting about politics and history during Covid.

At Howard and Tim’s Apartment in Chicago in the Early ‘90s.

I rotate the kaleidoscope again and more memories race through my mind – Mrs Finkeldye’s first grade class; drinking biers at the Butler’s House in our high school years; church youth fellowship; Tim saving me from the MPs in Germany; Tim sleeping on the couch with our dog, Top; Tim and Renee with Cath and I skinny dipping in Lost River; Tim and Renee at the Hash; Tim, Howard, Mark and I decades ago on a New Year’s Eve at 3AM in a picture forever frozen in time – all of us young, with our whole lives in front of us…

New Year’s Eve 1978.

There were no photos taken of us at the Mooseburger lunch. We didn’t need or want any. What I’ll remember is the fellowship and love of old friends spending a few hours together. I’ll always remember that lunch. Always. The memory of it will spark a kaleidoscope of images – an endless stream of snapshots in an infinite number of combinations.

Rest in peace Tim. I love you.

Addendum:

Here are some previous blogs featuring Tim:

• Earning our Boy Scout God and Country awards – https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2018/09/12/god-and-country/
• The Ottawa gluttons eating team at OHS – https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2017/04/17/the-ottawa-gluttons/
• In 1986, Tim and I found a way to ship a Keg of German bier from a Monastery, home in a transport plane: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2019/10/09/shipping-bier-from-germany/
• In the ‘80s when we lived in Germany, several family members and friends visited us. To “help” them overcome jet lag, we made sure the first couple of days were action packed with eating, drinking and activities to keep them occupied. It almost proved one friend’s undoing in 1987 […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2023/09/12/tim-and-bobbys-visit/
• The night wasn’t supposed to happen. As a matter of fact, in today’s post 9-11 world, it couldn’t happen. They never would have made it through security. But in 1991? Yea, my buddies Howard and June sprung me from O’Hare Airport during a layover, and we had an unexpected night in Chicago. It was July 2nd, 1991 and I’d been in Omaha, Nebraska running tests on the President’s “other plane” for […] Continue at: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2021/06/30/an-accidental-night-in-chicago/
• This slightly blurry photo from New Years Eve, 1978 captures Mark, Howard, Tim and me. We are, perhaps, slightly inebriated. Our youth has passed, and our adult lives stretch in front of us. Looking at the picture now, 42 years later, I think about our friendship and the transience of […] Continue at: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2020/12/27/old-friends-dunny-howard-june-and-ben/

Snow Satisfaction

In 1988, Cath and I enjoyed a ski vacation in the village of Ischgl, Austria, known for both its skiing, and its Après-ski activities. It also presented the opportunity to ski from Austria to Switzerland, as long as we brought our passports. As is usual, Cathy had the last word after we completed the run.

While stationed in Germany in the ‘80s, we took many ski vacations to Austria, sometimes for a long weekend, sometimes for a week. We often went with our friends Jim and Res to the Austrian town of Nauders on the Italian border. The skiing was great there and we enjoyed many fun trips with them.

Good Times With Jim and Res on One of Our Ski Trips.

In ‘88, Jim and Res couldn’t get away, so we decided to go on our own and try a new location. We eventually settled on Ischgl, a village in Austria’s Paznaun Valley with nearly 150 miles of groomed downhill trails. It’s also known as something of a party town with a multitude of Après-ski bars, clubs and restaurants.

We had a great time that week and the town lived up to both its ski and Après reputation. We would ski in the morning, have lunch and a bier at a restaurant on the mountainside, and then ski all afternoon. Eventually, we skied our way back to town and stopped at different places for a drink. Afterwards, we walked to our Gasthaus, cleaned up and went out for dinner, and maybe dancing later. Finally, we’d make it to bed, sleep like the dead, and then do the same thing the next day. It was wonderful, and an easy thing to do when in your early thirties.

Cathy Catching Some Rays on the Slope at Lunch One Day

We learned we could ski from Ischgl, across the border and into the duty-free town of Samnaun, Switzerland. As the crow flies, about 10 kilometers separate the two towns, but It’s farther when skiing. Looking at the map, the route was a combination of ski lifts and Blue and Red trails. (in Europe, Blue are considered easy and Red are intermediate trails). Although we didn’t need passports to enter Switzerland, we would need them to re-enter Austria. We decided to give it a go the next day and have lunch in Samnaun, before returning to Austria.

Ischgl on the Right. Samnaun on the Left.

It was a perfect day with a blue sky as we started towards Samnaun. Through a combination of skiing and a couple of chairlifts, we arrived at the red trail heading into Switzerland. As we descended, it was nice skiing, but then we came upon an icy, relatively steep cat-track, connecting on its far side to a steep descent to the village of Samnaun. Several people stopped there gathering their breath, before continuing. The mountain was on the right side of the track. On the left side, the ground dropped rapidly away into an unskiable valley. As we were watching, many people had problems on the ice and were falling, so some caution was warranted. We were about ready to go when someone came zooming down the slope from above, cut his skis into the snow and ice to turn onto the cat-track and… the skis didn’t grab the ice. Instead of turning, he shot off the side of the mountain, traveled through the air for about 40 feet, and then landed 20 feet below the trail in the snow. Hmmmm.

That caught our attention, particularly Cathy’s. The guy was OK, but now needed to find one of his skis and then climb back up the side of the valley to reach the trail. He couldn’t ski out from where he was.

We watched awhile longer, and then I said to Cath it was time to go. She disagreed and wanted to wait a little longer. More time went by and Cathy still wasn’t quite ready. Finally, I said something like “We can’t stay here, and we can’t go back up. The only way out is down the cat-track.” Eventually we started and slowly made our way. Cathy reverted to snow-plowing and her edges grabbed on the ice. After what seemed like forever, but in reality was probably two or three minutes, we made it past the cat-track. A few people were crashing and burning around us, but we had nary a fall. All that was left was the final descent.

We stood there congratulating ourselves and I pulled out my flask for us to share a short shot of brandy. I filled the cap about half full and handed it to Cathy. She looked in the cap and said, “Really? Do you think I could have a double?!” We both laughed and I filled the cap to the brim. She shot it down, handed it back, and took off on the final descent into Samnaun. After pouring myself a short one, I put away the flask and tore after her, eventually catching up. While the slope was a little steep, the snow was good and we arrived in town without mishap.

Cathy on the Slope.

We took off our skis and found a nice looking Gasthaus. I don’t remember what we ate, but the bier we drank with lunch tasted awfully good. After lingering a while and doing a little shopping, we took a cable car back up the mountain. Following a short ski, and then an additional chairlift ride further up, we arrived at the border crossing into Austria, where we dutifully presented our passports.

Once through customs, we skied down the slope into Austria. We made a couple more runs, and decided to call it quits. It had been a tiring day.

We skied into town to a bar/restaurant we discovered earlier in the week, and after stacking our skis outside, walked in. The place was quite crowded. We found a small table, settled in, and ordered biers along with a couple of Poire Williams*, a French eau de vie (we called them Poor Willies).

As we sipped our biers, the band began playing and their first song was The Stones’ “Satisfaction”. We, along with half the crowd, jumped on the dance floor and started dancing in our ski boots. As we were dancing, the crowd, a mishmash of Austrians, Germans, French, Dutch, Italians and others from who knows where, were all singing at the top of their lungs “I CAN’T GET SNOW… SATISFACTION!” It was one of those perfect moments you can never replicate, but forever remains clear as a bell in your mind’s eye. To this day, I feel my boots hitting the floor in time with the music, hear the crowd singing to “Satisfaction” and see the look of laughter and love in Cathy’s eyes.

Eventually it was time to leave. We went outside to find our skis and make our way home. As we were standing there, Cathy grabbed her crotch with one hand and started pulling at her clothes. I burst out laughing and said, “What the hell are you doing?!” She looked me straight in the eye and answered, “I am adjusting my balls. I kicked that slope’s ass today!” With that, my wife threw her skis over her shoulder and started walking home.

Addendum:

• Poire Williams is the name of a French eau de vie (literal translation – “water of life”), a clear brandy made from pears. Poire is the French word for pear, while Williams is the type of pear. In Germany and Austria, they make an equivalent bottling called Williams Birne Schnaps. Both are strong, and nothing like the peppermint schnapps we know here in America. Depending on the quality, you might either sip or shoot it.

Knowledge and Wisdom

Years ago my friend Joe said, “When I turned fifty, God shared all the knowledge and wisdom of the world with me. When I turned sixty, God told me I should share that knowledge and wisdom with the rest of the world.” Thinking of any number of older pontificators we both knew, we chuckled. I’ve thought about it more seriously since then – from whom have I gained knowledge and wisdom?

Of course, knowledge and wisdom aren’t exactly the same thing. According to the Oxford Dictionary, knowledge consists of “facts, information, and skills acquired by a person through experience or education”, while wisdom is “the quality of having knowledge, experience and good judgment”. Those definitions are close, although not exact. Looking at the two, knowledge is necessary, but not sufficient to have wisdom. There’s that little thing called “good judgement”. I also note the word “age” is in neither definition, and while perhaps, unexpected, I think that’s good. I know some people who were fools when they were young and have remained fools their entire life. It’s almost as if they have an anti-wisdom gene in their DNA.

I’ve thought of my own life and how I’ve obtained knowledge and tried to gain wisdom. Reading books or online resources, experiencing life and listening to others seem to be the three primary ways I’ve learned about life. To keep consistent with the “from whom have I gained Knowledge and wisdom” question in the opening paragraph, I’m only going to talk about listening to and interacting with others today. Certainly, the other two thoughts are important, but short of writing a thesis, I think it’s a bit hard to tackle all three in one short blog.

My parents were a big influence on me, not only as a kid, but throughout adulthood. I think back to the important lessons I learned at home as a child, and also to the advice they gave me over the years. Sometimes I listened, and other times not. Later in life, I also remember a conversation on the phone with dad one day. I was considering a job change and asked for his advice. There was a pause, and then he said “I think this is above my pay grade. You have to make this decision on your own.” Sometimes, wisdom is knowing when to say nothing.

When it comes to learning from others, I along with many of us, have practiced this inconsistently over the course of my life. As a young man, I certainly listened to “older” folk, but I was also guilty of the arrogance and certainty of youth. Who among us hasn’t experienced that combination of youthful passion and fearlessness? I alone KNEW the right answer! Sometimes I was right, and sometimes I failed. But where would we be without that youthful exuberance which has brought so much innovation? Who else has the courage, desire and tirelessness to challenge the status quo?

Growing into middle age, I continued to gain knowledge, and I hope I was gaining wisdom. Moving into leadership positions in the Army, business world and with other groups, I was frequently asked to impart my knowledge and/or wisdom across multiple subjects. I certainly listened to others, but as George Bush infamously stated, I became the “decider” on any number of issues. I believe I made my share of good decisions. There were also errors and poor recommendations along the way. I can think of more than a couple of choices I’d like to have back. Maybe if I’d listened a bit more to others … but of course, you can’t go back.

And now? I mostly retired 10 years ago. Today at 68, I sit on the cusp of elder time. Unlike my friend Joe, as I become older, I’m less sure God gave me any of the knowledge or wisdom of the world. Still, I often DO feel compelled to share what I have with others.

With that in mind, there are two things I’ve learned about myself I want to share.

First, for my peers, don’t let the complacency of old age settle in. You have to keep learning. If you don’t, you grow stagnant and might as well die. Never. Stop. Learning.

Second, and this is for everyone, the true wisdom I’d share is no matter your age, don’t constrict your interactions only to a group of people your own age. There is a wealth of knowledge and wisdom out there and you can learn at all ages from people of all ages. Don’t deprive yourself of the chance to find this out. All you need are open ears and eyes, and an open mind. Most importantly, an open mind.

And so, while I continue to learn much from my friends and peers in their 50s and 60s, I also continue to gain wisdom from friends John, Bill, Nancy, Irv, Malcom, Bob and Kathy among others in their 70s and 80s. Our nieces and nephews who are in their 30s and 40s are a constant source of joy and education about things both large and small. I continually gain new insights and ideas from our friends Mila, Raagni and Morgan, all in their 20s, and all of whom seem wise beyond their years. Lana, our 18 year old niece, makes me think, and raises new concepts and thoughts for me to consider. A couple of months ago, I even learned more about modesty and good manners from Kaeden, the 11 year old grandson of a friend. Of course there are many, many other people I could name here, but you get the idea. Making it personal also makes it more real. Who are some of the people of all ages in your own life you learn from, or maybe more importantly, could learn from? Never stop learning from friends and people of all ages. Never.

I realize this blog has rambled, and I apologize for that. With the year 2024 starting soon, I hope you will commit to a life of gaining knowledge and wisdom. Sample broadly from the learning choices offered. My wife is fond of saying “Every time an older person dies, it’s like a library burning down.”, and she’s right. Don’t miss the opportunity to learn from your older friends and family members before they are gone. Listen to their stories. But also allow time and openness to drink from that endless fountain of youthful exuberance. No one has a corner on knowledge and wisdom. No one

Addendum:

In my younger years, I never did “New Year’s Resolutions”. To be honest, I still don’t. But, as I’ve become older, I seem to do a bit more reflection this time of year. Maybe it’s because I have more time to be reflective, or maybe it’s because I have less time left in my life – I’m not sure which. In either case, I wish you the Happiest of New Years and hope you can take a few minutes to reflect on your life. See you in 2024.

EYES … RIGHT!

Every once in a while, something happens, or somebody does something that makes the idea of “The Long Gray Line” real to us West Point graduates. Sometimes it’s an event affecting the world. Sometimes it’s a death. Sometimes it’s only something small. One of those small things happened at our recent 45th class reunion.

A month or so ago, we had our West Point 45th reunion*. It was a wonderful long-weekend seeing the Academy and more importantly, catching up with classmates. A few days after the reunion some of my classmates were exchanging stories online, when one of them asked if anyone else noticed during the parade honoring our class, one cadet staff element maintained “Eyes Right” as they passed our entire class.

• A side note for those who have not served in the military. Everyone knows what a salute is, from one soldier to a more senior officer, or soldiers saluting the flag as it passes, or is raised or lowered. When there is a parade in the military, as a unit marches past the reviewing stand while carrying their weapons, it’s impractical/impossible for the unit to salute, or present arms to the reviewing party. Instead, the commander calls out the command, “EYES…RIGHT!”, and the entire unit, except for the file of troops on the right side of the unit, turns their head at a 45 degree angle and looks at (salutes/honors) the reviewing party as they march past (the right-hand file of troops continues to look straight ahead, ensuring the unit remains on the line of march). Once the entire unit is past the reviewing party, the command “READY…FRONT!” is given and the soldiers snap their heads back to the front. This is a form of saluting (honoring) the reviewing party while on the march.

Back to the story…

During our reunion, a Saturday morning parade was held in our honor. There were about 300 or so of us who dutifully lined up to the right of the reviewing party, which consisted of the Academy Superintendent, his Command Sergeant Major, the Commander of the 7th Infantry Division, and his Command Sergeant Major. Two of the four Cadet Regiments (eighteen companies total) took part in the review. After Ruffles and Flourishes and the Star Spangled Banner played, the command “PASS…IN REVIEW!” was given and Corp of Cadets began their march past the reviewing party and then our class.

Proud and Great ‘78, Lined up for the Parade Review

By happenstance, I was near the front and left side of our class line, fairly close to where the reviewing party was. We could hear the various staff elements and companies give the command EYES RIGHT as they arrived in front of the reviewing party. Then, after the staff element or company passed completely by the reviewing party, the subsequent READY FRONT command was given. Coincidentally, the READY FRONT command was given just before or after where I was standing, depending on the timing of each commander.

My buddies, Steve, Jay, Gus and I all noticed they were doing EYES RIGHT only for the reviewing party. Someone may have even joked about us not being salute worthy, but someone else pointed out it would be pretty tough, and almost impractical to carry an EYES RIGHT for the entire length of our class, spread out over perhaps forty or fifty yards.

Cadets Passing By Us, Already at the READY FRONT

Eventually the parade ended and after pictures, we headed off for lunch and the football game, and no one thought anymore about the parade.

Well, almost no one.

Joe Mislinski and a few other classmates who were at the end of our class in the reviewing line noticed one staff element held their EYES RIGHT the entire time. It was only after they passed the last member of our class that the commander gave the READY FRONT command. Joe was intrigued and got to work trying to find out who this particular commander was.

One Staff Element Held Their Salute Until They Passed our Entire Class

Another one of our classmates, Bob Greenwalt, videoed the entire parade. Joe watched the video and eventually was able to determine the staff element who retained their salute was the commander and staff of the 2nd Battalion, 2nd Regiment. Through a chain of several cadets Joe knows, he was able to track down the 2nd Battalion Commander. It turns out, he was out that day and the cadet in charge for the parade was Cadet Lieutenant Paul Conroy, class of ‘24. Joe wrote him an email asking if he indeed was the commander for the parade that day and if so, thanked him – “I’m sure you thought it was a small thing to do, to honor us in that way, but it really meant a lot. Thank you, it really warmed our hearts. Grip Hands!”

Cadet Lieutenant Conroy and the 2nd Bn, 2nd Reg Staff holding Their Salute

A bit later, the reply came back from Cadet Conroy – “As the stand-in for the commander, I was responsible for giving the commands “Eyes Right” for my staff to salute and “Ready, Front” for them to drop it. I admit my gesture was not premeditated; it just did not seem right to order my staff to drop their salutes until we had passed all the officers, current or retired, who had served our Army. I waited to call “Ready, Front” until myself and my staff had passed the class line. I could not look behind me, but I assume my entire staff held their salutes as well.”

Cadet Conroy’s Reply

After another exchange or two, Joe and Cadet Conroy arranged to link up in person at the upcoming Army Navy Game. Unknown to Cadet Conroy, Joe had a small gift for him and the Battalion staff.

Finally, it was the day of the Army Navy game. If you ever get the chance to go to one, I urge you to do so – it’s a day of pageantry – Cadet and Midshipman march-ons, flyovers, parachute drops, and of course the game itself. No, they aren’t Michigan, Texas, Alabama or Washington vying for the National Title. But that’s OK. These two teams – the passion, the emotion, the rivalry, the ties that bind these two schools. Yes, Michigan and Ohio State have a great rivalry. But when the Army Navy game is over, and the players graduate, these men and women take on joint duties and responsibilities, risking their lives for this great nation.

West Point March-On at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro, MA.

During the game, Joe and Paul texted and arranged a location to link up at the end of the first half. The score was 10-0 Army at halftime when classmates Joe, Paul Chang and Jeff Foley made their way to the bowels of the stadium where they met with Paul, and two of the members from the Battalion Staff – Firstie (Senior) Allen Liu and Cow (Junior) Timothy Jolicoeur. Tim is who originally caught the eye of many of my classmates as he is the one in the photo holding the hand salute the entire time. Three of the cadets, Justus Gabriel, Jake Pinuelas and Wesley Anderson couldn’t make the meeting. Wesley is on the West Point Marathon team and was one of the cadets who ran a game ball from West Point to Gillette Stadium.

As my classmates spoke with the cadets, Joe mentoned how he, Jeff and Paul were there on behalf of our entire class. They gave each of the cadets a Class of ‘78 coin. “Coining” is something done in the military (and some other government organizations). When you “coin” someone outside your unit, it is considered an honor and is because they have done something of value or importance to the unit. The way it’s done is in the form of a handshake. The coining party holds the coin in their right hand and extends the hand for the handshake. The parties shake hands and the receiving party takes the coin after the handshake. For West Pointers, it’s particularly meaningful because of lines from one of our most treasured songs, “The Corps” and the act of “gripping hands”.

The Cadets were surprised and happy. My classmates discussed how meaningful their gesture was for us as a class and how many of us noticed it and remarked to each other about it. They let them know there was chatter about it on our class Facebook page and the class unanimously agreed it was a great idea to do this meetup and present them with the coins.

Class of ‘78 45th Reunion Coin.

There was a bit more small talk, and then all headed back to their respective seats for what turned out to be an exciting second half. If you didn’t see the game, Army won 17-11 after stopping Navy on the one yard line with three seconds left in the game. These games are always thrilling and you shouldn’t leave your seat until they are over. Army has won six of the last eight games between the two Academies. Their margin of victory in those six wins? 36 points. Total.

Chang ’78, Jolicoeur ’25, Mislinski ’78, Conroy ’24, Liu ’24, Foley ’78

So that’s the story. Cadet Lieutenant Conroy will graduate from the Academy in another six months and join The Long Gray Line. “The Long Gray Line” is often talked about in the abstract, but every once in a while, you experience something that makes it real and personal. In the future, I’m guessing if Paul Conroy runs into a member of our class in a bar or restaurant, or some other place in this far-flung world of ours, his money will be no good. Sometimes it’s the little things that make a difference and you notice. The Class of ‘78 noticed on this occasion.

Thanks to you Paul Conroy, and the 2nd Battalion, 2nd Regimental Staff for going out of your way recognizing the Proud and Great Class of ’78. We wish you good luck and Godspeed on your journey with the Army and throughout your life.

Addendum:

• In a side note, classmate Paul Chang has an interesting connection to Paul Conroy – “Paul Conroy and my youngest son were classmates at the same grade school in San Antonio (Keystone) before we moved to Massachusetts 13 years ago! His mom and I worked together at the Med School and they lived close by. Another classmate from that grade school also went to West Point – Isabella Sullivan, who is one of two West Point Rhodes Scholars this year!”
• Credit goes to classmate Billy Harner for the photo of our class lined up for the parade. It’s used in both the lead in to the blog, and again in the text.
• Photo of the West Point march-on at the Game was provided by my good friend, Rudy Crespin, who was in attendance at the game. Rudy is a Naval Academy graduate from the Class of ‘87.
• The two photos of the Cadet Conroy and staff were extracted by Joe Mislinski from the video provided by Bob Greenwalt.
• Thanks to classmate Rick Makowski, who provided the coins for free from his merchandising company.
• Thanks to classmates Joe Mislinski and Gus Hellzen, along with my wife Cathy for providing editing assistance with this blog.
• If interested, here is a link to Bob Greenwalt’s video of the parade. There’s a bit of chatter going on throughout the video, which is also a bit cool. Cadet Conroy and staff come into view at 21:40 and it’s clear that they didn’t do a READY FRONT when everyone else did – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMCKT8QXodE
• * Here’s a link to the blog about the reunion itself: It was raining as I left our West Point 45th reunion last Sunday. I took the longer, slower route home rather than drive Interstate 95. Tired and emotionally spent, I didn’t trust myself on a route that would have more traffic. I knew I would be thinking about West Point, the reunion and my classmates […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2023/11/01/grip-hands/