On May 1st of this year, The United Methodist Church voted overwhelmingly to accept LGBTQ clergy and allow ministers to perform LGBTQ weddings. It was a good day for my church and for all of us. Raised as a Methodist, I’m happy to see the church finally take this next step, although it hasn’t been an easy path getting to this point.
I grew up a Methodist. I was baptized in the church as a baby, confirmed in my youth, and received my Boy Scout God and Country award after working with our minister, Reverened Hearn, for nearly a year. I belonged to the Methodist Youth Fellowship (MYF) both in Junior High and High School. When mom passed away in 2017, her service was held at the same church I grew up in and where she and my dad were married in 1951. I believe our church was a part of my foundation, helping me grow into the person I’ve become.
Photo of my Methodist Church Confirmation Class in the ‘60s
John Wesley founded the Methodist Church in the mid 1700s and over time, it grew to become the second largest Protestant denomination in the United States. The church has focused on social issues from the beginning, including the abolition of slavery. The Methodist Church also promoted the idea of women pastors, who were officially recognized in 1956, earlier than most other churches.
Although the Methodist Church had openly gay members and ministers for quite some time, in 2019, delegates from around the world voted 438 to 384 passing what was called the “Traditional Plan”, which tightened the church’s existing ban on same-sex marriage and gay and lesbian clergy. Many of those that voted to tighten the ban were from overseas churches, particularly in Africa, and from conservative churches here in the southern United States. However, the writing was on the wall, and it was inevitable that change would come. As a result, in 2019 churches were also given a four-year window to choose to leave over “reasons of conscience” if they desired, and still keep their church property.
In the intervening four years, nearly a quarter of the nation’s roughly 30,000 United Methodist churches departed by the December ‘23 deadline. In Texas, more than forty percent of the churches left.
I prefer looking at the statistics another way. Three-quarters of the churches elected to stay and embrace love, and the future. The tally Wednesday to remove the 40-year-old ban on the ordination of “self-avowed practicing homosexuals” was 692 to 51. Embrace the future, indeed.
Sign Outside my Old Church Back Home. **
“We’ve always been a big-tent church where all of God’s beloved were fully welcome,” said Bishop Tracy Smith Malone, the new president of the Council of Bishops. She called the vote “a celebration of God breaking down walls.” *
After the votes, some attendees gathered in a circle to sing a Methodist song that has become a refrain for many LGBTQ Christians. “Draw the circle wide, draw it wider still. Let this be our song: No one stands alone.” *
I spoke with a friend, Bob, who I grew up with. Bob still lives back home and goes to our old church there. He told me that at last week’s service, as communion was offered, the minister made an extra point of saying everyone is welcome to take communion. Everyone.
Yes, I grew up a Methodist. I’m proud of what the Church did this month. God’s love is alive and with all of us. Let this be our song – no one stands alone.
++Feel free to share this blog.++
Addendum:
Thanks to my friend Bob, back in Ottawa for reviewing this blog and providing some input. We had some texts back and forth on what was going on in the Methodist Church in general, and more specifically in my old church there. Bob is a true person of faith and I respect him, and his opinions.
* These two paragraphs were modified from a New York Times article on the recent vote.
** Photo is from 1st United Methodist Church of Ottawa, Il Facebook page.
In his poem, The Wasteland, TS Eliot famously said, “April is the cruelest month.” Perhaps Mr. Eliot is correct, but it’s hard to imagine that in our gardens this year. It’s as if God said, “We’ll put on a show in April, and worry about the other months later.” And what a show, at our home here in the Virginia Piedmont.
When we moved here twenty-five years ago, there were no gardens. Yes, we inherited a few azaleas, some forsythia, and a couple of dogwoods, but that was it. Everything since has been all Cathy. The hillside garden, the shade garden, the front garden, Cathy’s cutting garden, some redbuds – they were all put in by Cathy. Her labor of love is both amazing and beautiful.
The Hillside Garden in Early Spring.
This year, it was if all of our plants were on a clock that had somehow both accelerated and compressed time. In February the hellebores and crocuses started the show. March blended in the daffodils and forsythia, which led to the cacophony of color that was April.
In March, the Pre-Show of Daffodils and Hellebores.
I don’t know if it was global warming, a warm winter, a mild spring, plenty of rain or what. All I know is the flowers were unbelievable – an endless parade of new blooms, all consolidated over the past thirty days.
April Flowers (1)
The month started with Virginia Bluebells, Viburnum and the Redbuds. The Dogwoods, Forget Me Nots and our Japanese Maple with its red leaves then joined in. Bugle weed and Dandelions added their flowers to the crowd and were soon followed by our Azaleas, which never bloom as early as they did this year.
April Flowers (2)
The Shade Garden started contributing as well, with Lillies of the Valley, Bleeding Hearts and Spice Bush all getting in on the act. At the end of the month the Clematis and Columbine became a part of the show.
April Flowers (3)
April is gone now. Other than the Crocuses, Daffodils and Redbuds, most of the flowers and blooms still remain, with more coming. I know “April Showers bring May Flowers”, but it’s hard for me to believe the month of May could be more beautiful than this past April. In my mind, it’s only cruel that April is over.
April Flowers (4)
Addendum:
In all honesty, I know next to nothing about plants or flowers. What I’ve learned has come over the past ten years since retiring. While I was working, I didn’t have a full understanding, or appreciation for what Cathy did here at the farm with her gardens. It’s only been since I’ve retired that the scales have fallen from my eyes and I truly see the beauty. I know it sounds silly, but it’s true. Since then, my awareness and interest have grown. I’m still not great on names, but Cath helps me with that. Continually.
Sirius, the Dog Star, faded from the night sky at the farm by mid-April. Carmen, our Star Dog, was in ascension and finishing her Physical Therapy (PT) from leg surgery at the end of April. The three of us kept each other company for three months during Carmen’s recovery.
Carmen injured her back leg in January and required TPLO* surgery to repair it. Regular readers of this blog will remember that I talked about her injury and first week of PT previously**. Since then, we’ve done twelve weeks of PT, plus confinement in a crate at night and doing everything on a leash. To prevent her from reinjuring the leg, no free running or walking was allowed. It’s been a challenge.
I have two lasting memories from the past twelve weeks.
The first was our daily PT sessions. During the first week, we started with three five-minute sessions each day with Carmen tripoding around. By the six-week mark, she started barking in the middle of the morning and then later in the afternoon when it was time for her PT. “Let’s go!”, she seemed to say. By week twelve, Carmen graduated to two daily workouts of 35-40 minutes each, covering about two miles in each session. A stellar patient, by the end of three months, she was rock solid with no apparent issues.
We Walked a Lot of On-Leash Miles Together.
My second memory was of our walk each night at the end of the evening, for her to go to the bathroom one last time before bed. Looking up in the southern sky, I would see Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. In the crisp winter air, I often stood and contemplated the Dog Star, as Carmen went about her business.
Photo on the Right From Our Backyard in February.
Sirius is a part of the constellation, Canis Major, which translates to the “Great Dog”. In Greek mythology, Canis Major is often associated with Orion, the hunter. In fact, if you look up in the winter sky, the two constellations are near each other and Orion’s belt always points to Sirius. They are forever tied together as they pass overhead. As with Orion and Canis Major, Carmen and I were also tied together this past winter, focusing on her return to good health.
Backyard Photo of Orion’s Belt Pointing to the Dog Star in March.
Over the course of history, ancient mariners used Sirius for navigation. It was also considered a somewhat mystical star and regarded as a source of inspiration, guiding spiritual searchers on their journeys.
I think the Dog Star was doing that for us a little bit as well. Viewing Sirius gave me comfort and encouragement during the passing weeks. Maybe it was just knowing something out there was permanent and lasting. It had been in the sky forever and would continue shining long after we were gone. Our problems and dramas seemed a bit inconsequential in the big scheme of things.
Through February and March, I marked the passage of Sirius across the heavens. Starting high and to the East in the southern sky, as winter passed, the Dog Star moved a little lower and a little further to the West each evening.
As April arrived, Carmen grew stronger, while Sirius continued moving lower in the sky. By the middle of the month, the Dog Star was no longer visible at the farm – nearby hills and tall trees blocked a view as it fell lower and lower in the night sky. Carmen and I were left to finish her recovery on our own, or so I thought.
We continued working hard for the next couple of weeks …
Then, near the end of April, Cath, Carmen and I went to the Chesapeake Bay for a few days. Early one evening, I took Carmen out a little after dinner for a short walk. I happened to look to the southwest across the Bay, and there was our old companion, Sirius, low in the sky. I wasn’t sure at first, as it seemed a bit pale in the evening gloam. Looking to the right, I found Orion, just above the horizon, with his belt pointing straight at our friend. I smiled and gave Carmen a pat on the head. The Dog Star, back with us for one last night, was telling me all was well with the world.
Two days later, Cath and I called the vet and received the green light to let Carmen start walking and running off leash again. We took it slow, with off-leash activities confined to the yard, between the house and barn. Those first few days were great. Carmen has stuck close to us, even though she’s off leash. You can see her wiggle and know she’s happy, but she too is taking it easy and not overdoing it. I think she understands what’s going on as well. As time passes, we’ll begin doing our regular off leash walks, but for now we’re careful.
Cath and Carmen, Enjoying the Sunshine, and No Leash.
As May arrived and Canis Major totally disappeared, we continued our training with more off-leash exercise. There have been a couple minor bumps, but we seem on track. By early August, when the Dog Days of Summer*** arrive and Sirius rises in conjunction with the sun, our lives will, with more work and some luck, return to normal. In the meantime, we are taking it day-by-day, tied together like Orion and Canis Major, traversing our nearby fields and trails.
Addendum:
* TPLO surgery – You can’t really repair a dog’s ligaments. Instead, they now do something called tibial plateau leveling osteotomy (TPLO) surgery, a major advancement in the treatment of ligament rupture. “This surgery changes the angle and relationship between the thigh bone (femur) and the shin bone (tibia). The overall intent of the surgery is to reduce the amount the tibia shifts forward during a stride. This is accomplished by making a semicircular cut through the top of the tibia, rotating the top of the tibia, and using a bone plate to allow the tibia to heal. This realignment of the surfaces within the knee (stifle) helps provide stability during a stride and helps reduce future joint inflammation and osteoarthritis. By carefully adjusting the angle or slope of the top of the tibia, surgeons can create a more normal configuration of the knee joint and reduce mechanical stress.” You can learn more here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tibial-plateau-leveling_osteotomy
If you live in Northern Virginia/the Virginia Piedmont I can’t recommend DR Nicholson and Salutaris Veterinary Specialists enough. You can learn more about them here: http://www.salutarisvet.com
** Here’s the blog about Carmen’s injury, surgery and initial PT: My walking companion for the past nine years is sidelined. Carmen needed surgery last week to repair a ruptured ligament in her left rear leg. We went down this road with a previous dog and are familiar with the journey. It doesn’t make it any less distressing for […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2024/02/06/carmens-surgery/
*** The “Dog Days of Summer” have been called that for over 2,000 years. Early August is called the Dog Days of Summer, as that is when Sirius is first seen again, after disappearing from the night sky. It’s observable in the early morning sky and rises over the horizon about the same time the sun does. In ancient history, they thought the extra bright star, in addition to the sun, is what made it so hot.
My birthday was a couple of weeks ago. At dinner, Cathy gave me a hand-written birthday letter that I love. Her words that have stayed with me? “How does one encapsulate so many years? You Don’t. You live in the present and move to the future. The past is window dressing.”
The night of my birthday, we went out for dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants, Field and Main. As we were having a cocktail, Cathy gave me my birthday “letter”. It talked about our lives together, aging, and particularly this past year. I won’t go into detail, but this year has had its challenges. I loved the letter. In her honest way, Cath summed up so much, and gave me so much with the letter.
My favorite part came about halfway through. Talking about my birthday, and all of our years together, Cathy said “How does one encapsulate so many years? You don’t. You live in the present and move to the future. The past is window dressing.”
What a true statement. From the dictionary – Window Dressing – 1: the act of decorating and arranging products to display in a store window. 2: something intended to make a person or thing seem better or more attractive but does not have any real importance or effect.
Isn’t that accurate? “Does not have any real importance or effect”. Certainly we are all products of our past, and I know I love telling stories of the past, but you can’t live there. You need to live in the present and look to the future. Otherwise, what’s the point? If you stay buried in the past, what is the future?
Thanks to Cathy for a lovely birthday evening and a letter I’m saving. Her words of wisdom are something all of us could use as an occasional reminder.
Live life exuberantly – Live in the present and move to the future.
Cathy, Living in the Present, the Night of my Birthday.
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/
It was Easter Sunday and Cath and I were taking Carmen for a walk. As we returned, we noticed something white on a tree branch in the pond. Initially, we thought a plastic bag was caught on a limb, but soon realized we had a first-time visitor to the farm – a Bufflehead Duck.
That’s Bufflehead. Not Buffethead or Parrothead, of which there are plenty in this area.
The pond is wonderful for animal and bird watching. I’m not a birder, but we do keep an Audubon Field Guide to North American Birds available, tracking both regular and visiting species. In addition to the normal Blue Jays, Cardinals, Robins, Bluebirds, Finches, Hummingbirds, Hawks, Owls and occasional Eagle, we have numerous waterbirds who fly in. Geese and Ducks arrive during their migrations. Herons stop by to fish. They stand stone quiet in the water, silently awaiting their opportunity. Deer, raccoon and the occasional bear visit as well. Regular readers of this blog will recall that two River Otters* were guests at the farm about a year ago.
For the past couple of years, a pair of geese and a pair of wood ducks have shared the pond and called it home. The geese are noisy and brazen, making sure everyone knows it’s their place. The ducks are quieter, often staying in the brush out of sight.
Then, a little over a week ago, this guy showed up and joined the party. We’ve not had a previous visit from a Bufflehead Duck, or at least none I’m aware of in the past 25 years. As a matter of fact, until his visit, I didn’t know such a duck existed. Starkly black and white, he was hard to miss and cut quite the figure. Going to our Audubon, I found it pretty quickly – a male Bufflehead. As is often true in nature, the males are more colorful than their female counterparts.
Our Bufflehead Duck, Just Hanging out
I read up on them in the Audubon and online. It turns out they migrate from Canada to Florida or Mexico and aren’t that unusual here in Virginia. They are evidently more often on the Chesapeake Bay, but according to our birding friend, Linda, they are definitely here in the Virginia Piedmont as well. Described as “short and chunky”, they are also known as Butterballs and Buffalo Heads.
Why this one was alone, I’m not sure. They normally travel in small groups, not big flocks. Maybe his buds were somewhere else in the area, or perhaps he became separated or injured. There is no way to know.
After three days, he was still here. Except for the occasional swim or dive for food, he hung out on the same tree limb sticking out of the water. It was as if someone posted a sign – “Bufflehead Roosting Only”. He’d definitely claimed the branch as his own. It’s worth noting this is the same branch the River Otters sat on a year ago. It must provide a good vantage point. Usually he swam alone, but occasionally I would see him with the Wood Ducks paddling around together.
Hanging Out Alone, at the “Bufflehead Roosting Only” Branch
One morning, he and the male Wood Duck were hanging out on the branch together. They didn’t appear to be talking or comparing notes. They were both just sitting there, very Zen like.
How long will he stay? We don’t know. As with the River Otters a year ago, we are enjoying his visit. When I feed the horses around 7AM, I make a short side trip to the pond and look for him. So far, he’s been sitting on the “Bufflehead Roosting Only” branch each morning. Later in the day, Cath and I both occasionally see him swimming around the pond or diving for food. He’s quite the character and has made himself at home on the farm. It’s over a week now, and he’s still hanging out, providing a little extra joy and color to the pond.
Our Guest, Diving for Dinner One Evening
Addendum:
Update: On April 12th, eleven days after his arrival and two days after this blog was published, our guest disappeared. Perhaps some animal caught him, but I like to think he resumed his migration north. I hope he enjoyed his time at Rohan Farm as much as we enjoyed seeing him.
* Here’s the story of the River Otters that visited us for about a month last year: “This February, we had visitors on the farm. While it took a bit of time to confirm their identity, we eventually did. Two river otters took up residence at our pond and provided both joy and sadness” […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2023/02/28/guests-at-the-pond/
American ingenuity – we see it applied every day in all kinds of ways. Recently, I needed to look no further than a couple of local breweries, where in addition to great beer, they are serving Sausage Gravy Pizza and Bratwurst Pizza. I put those ideas in the borderline genius category.
Pizza – it’s almost as American as apple pie. Yea, it originated in Naples, Italy, but we Americans have made it our own. For me, from pizza at Sam’s* in my hometown, to New York Sicilian at West Point, to Chicago deep dish, to rediscovering the simple pleasures of a Pizza Margherita, it’s been a great journey. Of course, these days you can find almost anything on a pizza including the outstanding combination of prosciutto, arugula and a balsamic reduction at Ava’s in St Michaels, MD.
Sam’s Pizza – Still Great After Seventy Years.
Currently, I need to say two local breweries have caught my attention with outside the box thinking.
The first is Death Ridge Brewery, located on a farm off of Route 229 about halfway between Warrenton and Culpeper. Their beers are excellent and they have wonderful views of the Virginia Piedmont. They have their own kitchen and often a food truck, but you should really try visiting on a Sunday, when they do it up right. They have bluegrass music all day long, and there’s typically a food truck. The real reason to visit on a Sunday? Their Sausage Gravy Pizza, which is only served on Sundays.
Sausage Gravy Pizza – You Know You Want to Try It!
I kid you not, it is outstanding. Does it taste like sausage gravy? Yes. Does it taste like Pizza? Again, yes. I’m not sure exactly how they do it. If I had to guess, I’d say they blend some mozzarella in with their homemade sausage gravy, and it turns into a wonderful, delicious, perfect Sunday lunch. The pizza probably has about a bazillion calories, but who’s counting?
Cathy About to Enjoy a Sausage Gravy Pizza.
The second place to try is a new brewery in Warrenton called Silver Branch, Warrenton Station. It took over the location of the former Wort Hog Brewery**, which only lasted a couple of years. Silver Branch, like Death Ridge, has good beers, with excellent IPAs and great European varieties, including Pils, Saisons, Stouts, and a Belgian Tripel that will knock your socks off. They have a full food menu including moules (mussels), a bratwurst sandwich with frites and several good pizzas. My favorite? “The Wurst”, a bratwurst pizza with caramelized onions – a brilliant idea!
Now you might think the Germans would have “invented” the Bratwurst Pizza, or at least served it, but I’m doubtful of that and never saw it when we lived there. Cathy and I were stationed in Germany for 9 years with the Army and loved both the country and the people. Having said that, the German people live up to at least one stereotype – They in fact are an “orderly” people and tend to follow rules. As a result, they serve bratwurst in Germany, and they serve pizza in Germany at Italian restaurants. The two together?! Niemals! (Never!) I’m glad someone at Silver Branch thought “Hmmm. I like brats. I love pizza. AND, I enjoy drinking bier with both of them. Let’s play around in the kitchen and see what we can come up with.” Pizza, brats and beer – what could possibly go better together?
“The Wurst” – Just say “Ja!”
I still enjoy a Cheese, Sausage, Mushroom pizza from Sam’s when back home in Ottawa, or a Greek pizza from Joe & Vinnie’s here in Warrenton. Still, it’s nice to know there are new options, and with American Ingenuity, pizza continues evolving. In the meantime, if you are here in Fauquier County, I highly recommend trying both Death Ridge and Silver Branch, for their beers, and their pizza. You can’t go wrong unless you try and do both on the same Sunday, in which case you might overeat. 😉
Addendum:
* Sam’s Pizza made, and still makes, some of the best pizza in the world. It’s where we went in high school and continue to stop by to this day when back in Ottawa. Here’s a blog about Sam’s and the year 1972. “It’s not easy to eat pizza 100 times in one year. I know this because my good friend Howard and I did it 52 years ago in 1972…” continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2017/04/14/sams-pizza-in-1972/
** Wort Hog was one of the first breweries to open in Fauquier County and people were quite excited when it arrived. Unfortunately, it had a couple of problems – their beers weren’t all that good, and service was mediocre. Other than that, it was a fine place. :-). Fauquier County now has 11 breweries – if you don’t make good beer and don’t have decent service, you’re not going to make it. There are too many choices.
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.
For the last 30 years, I’ve told anyone who would listen that the best burger I ever ate was at The Squeeze Inn in Sacramento, CA. The place is still around and if you are there, you should try it. It’s a great burger, but it’s no longer my “best ever”. For that, you must visit Field and Main Restaurant here in Marshall, Va for an Ooomami Smashburger. Trust me on this. You won’t go wrong.
According to some studies, Americans eat about 50 billion burgers a year. Taste is subjective, and we all have our favorites. Sometimes they’re from dives, sometimes gourmet places and occasionally from chains (I’m looking at all of you Five Guys and In-N-Out burger fans). It just so happens my two favorite burgers are from two very different restaurants, 2,700 miles apart.
In 1992, I happened to be in Sacramento, CA and someone recommended trying “The Squeeze Inn”, so called due to its tiny size. It was a small greasy spoon with seating for about a dozen people. It may have had a couple of picnic tables outside. In any case, we finally went and I ordered a cheeseburger. HOLY COW – it was amazing, the best burger I ever had. I couldn’t even tell you what made it so good, other than lots of cheese. A few months later in early ‘93 I was back in Sacramento and stopped in again – was the previous trip a mirage? Was the burger really that good? DOUBLE HOLY COW! It was just as good the second time.
The Original Squeeze Inn
I became an apostle and proselytized regularly. If I knew anyone traveling remotely close to Sacramento, I recommended they stop in. If I met someone from Sacramento, I’d always ask about the Inn. It turns out I wasn’t the only one who liked the place. Virtually anyone who’d eaten there loved their burgers. In fact, Guy Fieri of Diners Drive-ins and Dives TV Show fame, proclaimed it one of the best burgers in America.
Strangely, I haven’t returned to Sacramento since the ‘93 visit, but The Squeeze Inn’s cheeseburger lived on in my mind as the best burger I’d ever eaten. I’d occasionally look up the restaurant online, and they were still receiving rave reviews.
So, what changed for me? The Ooomami Smashburger at Field and Main came along.
Field and Main first opened in 2016. Neal Wavra, the owner, has done a great job of making the place both a destination restaurant AND a good addition to the local restaurant scene. Cathy and I enjoy dinners there on a regular basis. The menu rotates, but I’d tell you their Chicken leg “confit” is one of my favorite meals. Billed as “casual fine dining”, it’s received two favorable reviews from WaPo restaurant critic Tom Sietsma, has won numerous awards, and is constantly written up as one of the best restaurants in Virginia. Their food is excellent. If you saw the place, or looked at their menu, it’s not immediately obvious they would make a great burger, and yet they do.
Field and Main – “Casual Fine Dining” AND a Great Burger!
I was reminded of this on a recent Saturday evening. Returning from an afternoon with my running group, I stopped in to pick up some wine we’d ordered and to get take-out dinner for Cathy and me. I went upstairs to the bar, ordered one of their signature drinks, a “Red Lantern” (definitely try it if you visit) and ordered dinner to go – two Ooomami Smashburgers and an order of loaded crispy potatoes. If you time it right, you can finish your drink in about the time it takes them to make your meal, and that was true on this occasion. I paid, grabbed the food and drove home, where Cathy was waiting.
Both of us were hungry and we tore into the burgers. We’ve eaten them several times before and on this particular night, the revelation hit me – this may well be the best burger I’ve ever eaten. I don’t know if it’s the Wagyu beef, the homemade bacon jam, or both of those combined with the onions and American Cheese that makes it so good, but it is delicious. The loaded crispy potatoes with garlic, bacon, sour cream, scallions and a pimento cheese sauce are pretty d@mned good as well. Focused on our food, we didn’t say much as we ate.
The Ooomami Smashburger with Loaded Potatoes
I highly recommend you give it a try, but don’t just take my word for it. Northern Virginia Magazine recently held a competition and of 32 places, it was judged the best burger in Northern Virginia (read here: NoVA Wars: Burger Edition). The loaded crispy potatoes aren’t mandatory, but they’re mighty tasty as well.
The burger is listed on the menu as an appetizer. I know some who do order it as an appetizer or split it between 2-4 people to start the meal. Others order it as their main. With so many good choices on the menu, Cath and I rarely order it as a main unless we are having a casual dinner in the bar or getting take-out. Then? There’s a good chance we have Ooomami Smashburgers in our future.
I know there are many great burgers around, and I’m sure most of you have your own “best burger” in mind at some local restaurant, or some place you remember from your past. For all of you Five Guys or In-N-Out burger fans, if your best burger comes from a chain, that’s OK. I might think you’re living a sheltered life, but I won’t hold it against you.
If you are in Sacramento, CA or Marshall, VA I’d recommend both places for a burger. If you could only choose one place? Visit Field and Main in Marshall. Call me ahead of time and I’ll happily join you.
Addendum:
For info on Field and Main Restaurant, a reservation is usually required, unless you are sliding into the bar. Additional information can be found here: https://www.fieldandmainrestaurant.com/
The Squeeze Inn is still around in Sacramento, and now several other places in Northern California. They no longer have their original building (it closed due to a frivolous lawsuit). I still highly recommend you get one of their burgers if in the area. You can find more about them here: http://www.squeezeburger.com/
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.
Live Life Exuberantly 