In the month of September, on the night of Friday the 13th, there was a full harvest moon in the sky above Cheshire, Connecticut. Coincidentally, or not, also afoot in Cheshire that evening was a favored son of yesteryear not seen in these parts for the better part of three decades. That’s right, Waipahu Bob was once Cheshire Bob, although the latter not taken as moniker.
I was born and raised in this town, but my family moved back to South Carolina in 1980, the year I joined the Air Force. I hadn’t been back to Cheshire in many years. Why was I here now? No specific reason. Just checking it out. Have I mentioned I don’t have a job right now?
I booked four nights at the Cheshire Welcome Inn, the town’s only motel.
I hung out with my old neighborhood friend Eric T and his wife Patti. Played a little Frisbee golf with Eric and his two sons. Hiked around Sleeping Giant State Park. Spent a day with cousin Billy, affectionately known as the Oregon horse thief, even though he was eventually cleared of those charges. Had some good meals, including swordfish and fried whole-belly clams. Had some good pizza; not sure why there are so many good pizza joints in the Northeast, but there are. Had fun catching up with these old friends.
I cruised around Cheshire and checked out my old neighborhood, my old schools, my old hangouts. Didn’t really bump into anybody I knew, even though I was always on a sharp lookout. But I saw the old sites, thought about myself in the old days, grammar school through high school, old paper routes, job sites. The Stop and Shop grocery store I worked at in high school is no longer there. Neither is Morton’s Pharmacy, where we would sit at the soda fountain counter, order French fries and a cherry coke, and thumb through the latest Mad magazine and comic books until Mr. Morton, if he was working then, reminded us this wasn’t a library.
My older brother David once went into Morton’s Pharmacy, sat down at the counter and ordered a coke. When the coke arrived, he poured it over his head, put some money on the counter and then got up and left. I asked him why he did it. He said he wanted to see everybody’s reaction. Oh, that explains it. Did I mention I shared a room with this guy for 17 years.
I left Cheshire on Tuesday morning, 17 Sep, and drove south to Virginia, where I hooked up with my old buddy JJ, a good friend and colleague from my Air Force days. We went to instructor school in Little Rock together, were stationed together in Germany, and then again later at Hickam AFB. He is one of my best friends, the kind of friend you can only get through many years of sharing both good and bad times together.
I spent Tuesday night at JJ’s house in Alexandria, then Wednesday morning we headed down to his “country house” on the Chesapeake Bay. I’d been to the country house one time before, when I was stationed a Langley AFB in Virginia and JJ was at the Pentagon in the 1990s.
On Thursday morning, I hit the road for Rock Hill, South Carolina, to my sister Beth’s house.
I had a good time with my sister Beth and her husband Brian. Also, one of her daughters, Jessa, rolled in for the weekend. That was nice. If you like watching some football on the weekend, like me, these guys are all over it, to include having an outside bar and big-screen TV by the pool.
Sunday, I had a reunion with two old friends, Arnie T and Russell C. Arnie is the brother of Eric T who I visited in CT earlier in the week. Eric told me that Arnie had moved to Charlotte NC ten years ago. That was news to me, so I got his phone number and set up a rendezvous with him. He came to my sister’s house at 0630 Sunday morning and we drove out to meet Russell near Saluda NC. It was about a 1 hour and 45 minute ride to Saluda, so Arnie and I had some time to catch up with each other. I was really close to both Eric and Arnie T when I was growing up, but I hadn’t seen Arnie in about 20 years. No worries, though; we got along great, as we always did.
We were going out to Saluda to meet Russell C, hike some trails near Bradley Falls, get some lunch, and talk some story. I hadn’t seen Russell in five years or so, but we often chat/text during Clemson football games. We were college buddies at Clemson, and shared many exciting experiences together at the height of our foolish youthful years……I can’t believe we survived it all! We had camped out and/or hiked around Bradley falls many times in those college days, so we figured we would check it out again.
Saluda NC, on the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains
Check out this story (audio clip below) Russell told on the hike back. I recorded it on my phone as we walked. The crux of the story is Russell’s granddaddy mistaking a young lady’s request for a rest room with a request for the whisk broom. Hilarity ensues.
Russ, Arnie and I survived our hike around Bradley Falls, then went into Saluda town for some lunch. Russ said he knew a good barbecue place, and you know I’m down with that. This time I went with the beef brisket, fried okra and cole slaw on the side. Also, at Russell’s urging, I shared a side of “tomato pie” with Arnie. Tomato pie was a first for me; it was good!
Arnie and I rolled back to Rock Hill late that afternoon, in time to catch some of the late pro football games. Beth made some supper and we all hung out by the pool and watched football on the big screen out there. There may have been some bourbon and coke involved, too. This was a great day, from start to finish.
Monday morning I rode with Beth out to the land she and Brian had recently bought outside Rock Hill. They were planning to build a big barn out there, with a two-room apartment on the top floor. I’d looked over the building plans with Brian a couple of days earlier. I noticed the floor level of the barn included a small bathroom with a toilet and sink. I told Brian he should try to get a small stand-up shower in there too, or else put an outside shower on the side. I was figuring, this way all I’d need is a couple of bales of hay to create a nice guest room for myself. Anyway, we’ll see if that idea stuck.
So their plan is to build this barn, move into it, sell their current house, then build another house on the new property. There’s also some bold talk about orchards and animals and such. We’ll see how this goes.
Tuesday at noon I hit the road in my sporty Jetta for the last leg of my East Coast swing. I was heading to Atlanta, to spend some time with my wife’s aunt Orapin and her husband Bill, before catching a flight home to Hawaii. It’s about a four-hour drive from Rock Hill to Atlanta.
I had a good time with Orapin and Bill. I’ve known them since the early 1990s when Bill was stationed at Fort Monroe and I was stationed at Langley AFB, both in Hampton VA. They have been frequent house guest of ours in Hawaii, since they are the most traveling couple I know. This was the second time I’d been to their house in Georgia, and their hospitality is always the best. I always enjoy their company. Both are fun-loving and easy to talk with.
Orapin cooked up a storm. When I arrived, she led me to the kitchen and pulled a big pork roast out of the refrigerator where it had been marinating in a pan. Then she walked over to the stove and pulled the top off a big pot of spaghetti sauce that was simmering. “Which do you want tonight, pork roast or spaghetti?”
I went with pork roast, since she said that offer came with a baked potato and a nice fresh green bean salad, as well as other fruits and veggies. Let’s just say I didn’t starve in Atlanta.
On Thursday morning, 26 Sep, I drove to the Atlanta airport, turned in the rental car and boarded a direct Delta flight back to Honolulu. The East Coast swing was over.
All hail the East Coast swing! Life was good.
Waipahu Bob 