Memorial Day - 2015

    When I was a little girl, I remember walking home from school in Royersford, Pennsylvania,  and noticing the Blue Star or Gold Star banners hung in the windows of several homes.  I asked my parents what that meant.  Dad said, “The Blue Star means that the family has someone serving in the Armed Forces in a war or hostility.  The Gold Star means that the family lost a member ".

    Years later, as a member of our high school marching band, I was proud to march on Memorial Day, down Main Street, then across 7^th Avenue, and up Walnut Street to Fernwood Cemetery.  Along with the Boy Scouts waving their little flags, the local fire companies, and other organizations, I helped honor those who had served their nation.  The Boy Scouts put an American flag on the gravesite of every American soldier from the Revolutionary War to the current day. 

    Then the ceremony would start, hands would cover hearts and eventually taps would echo throughout the cemetery.  Tears would slip down the faces of many of the attendees.   After the ceremony, the band would march out of the cemetery silently, to the cadence of a single snare drum.  When we returned to the site of where the parade began, I remember Nelson’s Dairy would provide ice cream “Dixie cups” with little wooden spoons for everyone.

    A few years ago my sister, Kathy Savage and I were visiting New Holland in Lancaster County. We noticed banners hanging from the light poles on the main street.  The banners contained the faces, names and dates of veterans of their town, past and present.  What a wonderful way to honor their veterans!  As far as you could see, up and down the street, the faces of people from every military service, every war, every conflict, were on banners for all to see.  Kathy and I said to each other, wouldn’t that be great if Royersford had a similar program for the veterans in our hometown? 

     Earlier this year, I was in my hometown.  Kathy took me to see the banners  adopted by the Royersford Borough Council.  It was heartwarming to see not only my Dad’s face on a banner, but so many local heroes, as well.

  

                                   (Our Dad, Tech Sgt William W. Randall, WWII, US Army)

    My sister had paid a fee to have Dad’s photo on the banner for a specified period of time.  I was happy to see that she had honored Dad in this way.  Now everyone could see the man we loved and have been so proud of all these years.   Dad would have been proud, too, to see so many comrades honored in this way.

    There were other “faces” on the banners that I recognized and I hope that other families will look into this program and support it.  I think it would be wonderful if every town, every city in America would have a similar program and honor its veterans, past and present in this manner.  Seeing these faces every day makes their sacrifices a bit more real. 

    I now live in “military city USA”, San Antonio, Texas.  Memorial Day, as well as every day is special in our city for our military members.  The young military greet the old veterans; Vietnam Vets hug each other and say, “welcome back, Brother”.  Boy Scouts and military members put flags on the graves at Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery.  There will be parades to honor those surviving members of World War II and other wars.  Time and time again taps will be played and tears will flow for the loss of those we love and will never forget.  Because, after all, it is Memorial Day. 

    NOTE:    This year I would like to give a special thanks to the brother of a classmate at Spring-Ford Senior High School.  Daniel Dolby was in my graduating class.  His brother, SP4 David C. Dolby was awarded the Medal of Honor for service in South Vietnam on May 21, 1966.  To David, our heartfelt gratitude.  To David’s family, no words can thank you enough for his sacrifice.

   

    

The "Other" Margaritaville

    Adare Drive, Fairfax, Virginia, from 1983-1986 was where it was happening.  Truly one of the best addresses we have ever owned.  We resided on a "pipe stem" which was different from a cul-de-sac.  The pipe stem shared a mutual driveway (down a slight hill), then branched off to five separate driveways to five homes, just like fingers on your hand.  Think of your palm as the “common area” in our little neighborhood.

    There was always something going on – something fun!  Five houses, nine people, a few dogs, and we all got along.  It was a new development, and as one couple moved in, they were properly welcomed and invited to a BBQ with libations or iced tea, and then the gatherings began to grow, until all five homes were occupied.  There was a book publisher, a dentist, a gas/oil executive, a retirement planner, several military officers, a school teacher, and a budget analyst.  

    We celebrated birthdays, 4^th of Julys, promotions, new car purchases, wine tastings, NFL games, NASCAR races, and gathered for a Kentucky Derby party.  One of the neighbors graduated from the University of Kentucky, so of course he hosted a Kentucky Derby party, complete with mint juleps, and a betting sheet.  What fun!  

    Progressive dinners were one of our favorite neighborhood pastimes.  We would start at one home for drinks, move to the next home for hors d’oeuvres, on to the next home for the salad, the next home for the entrée, then the final home for dessert.  One evening we stayed at the hosts’ home and played Trivial Pursuit until 3 o’clock in the morning!  You could not play with your spouse or significant other and that made the teams much more exciting. 

    Other neighbors up on the main streets looked down on our pipe stem with curiosity and amazement and wondered what all the partying was about and why couldn’t they participate?!  Well, they didn’t “belong” to the pipe stem.  We were special.  They had their neighbors to the right and left of them and across the street.  We had our little group and we liked it just fine.

    And from this wild, wacky, wonderful group of friends developed over a 3 year period, was born Jay’s frozen margarita.  He is now known world-wide for this delectable treat.  The recipe is still well kept, except for a few close friends, who finagled the ingredients.    

    The housewarming party at Christmas was amusing as folks who never drank margaritas were finally convinced to try one.  Once they sipped that frozen concoction, well, they were easily won over.  And they asked for seconds, and thirds…..The best part was that Jay made two different varieties for Christmas – pitchers of red margaritas and pitchers of green margaritas, both with the exact recipe.  But, you guessed it!  After several drinks, the guests decided the green margaritas tasted better than the “unnaturally” colored red margaritas. 

    The frozen margaritas became the “house” drink for every family celebration, every neighborhood party.  “Where are Jay’s frozen margaritas?”  the gang would ask.  “Don’t worry,” I’d say.  “There are pitchers in the freezer and the cooler”. 

    When Jay received his military orders for his final assignment before retiring in San Antonio, the pipe stem gang threw us a farewell party.  And it was over the top.  One of the fellows had small rockets that he shot into the sky, we had the traditional more-than-one-could-eat selections of food, and of course, Jay’s frozen margaritas.  Thanks to our gang, they invited my parents and sister and her sons from Pennsylvania to attend.  So it was a happy, but sad farewell.  And the “margaritaville” banner stretched across the volleyball net – priceless. 

  

    (My Mom is front row, left side; Dad is in the middle of the Margaritaville banner, with Carl Savage between his legs; Kathy Savage is standing at the far right behind me and Jay, with Mark Savage on my lap).

    For the first few years after we relocated, we kept in touch with the neighborhood until the couples  finally moved away (several were military and got re-assigned), but we still are in touch with our favorite neighbor who is also a Dallas Cowboys fan.  He and Jay drank a few pitchers of frozen margaritas one evening during Monday Night Football.  The drinks were so smooth, you didn’t know what hit you – until the next morning.  I remember buying lots of aspirin while we lived there….

    To this day, we have never had the camaraderie in any neighborhood like we did in the “other Margaritaville”.  Time and time again, we’ve had some neighborhood gatherings, but there were lots of little children, the homes were not close together (country development), and large age differences.  On Adare Drive, at that time, at that place, there was that dynamic combination that only comes once in a lifetime, and boy, did we make the most of it. 

    When we tell friends about the “pipe stem”, and all the great memories we have there, I wonder if they really believe us.  That’s okay.  We have priceless memories, and photos.

     Oh, yes, and there was one Saturday we all pitched in and sealed our driveways – together.  The girls stirred big five gallon buckets of sealer while the guys spread the gooey black liquid with huge squeegees.  One of the pipe stem gang was enroute to a wedding, in tuxedo, but he stopped for a few minutes and squeegeed along with the guys.  We all stopped and waved at the folks on the upper road, slowly driving by, wondering what that crazy “pipe stem” gang was up to now?  And yes, there were frozen margaritas at the end of the day.