Pat Haley: ‘We smiled as we left Staunton, Virginia’

By Patrick Haley
Guest Post

Thomas Wolfe said, “You can’t go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, back home to a young man’s dreams of glory and of fame, back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time – back home to the escapes of Time and Memory.”

We did, in a sense, go home again, at least for seven days. Staunton, Virginia, is not our hometown, but was home to Brenda and me for twelve of the happiest years of our lives. We spent the whole week in Staunton. We saw old friends and journeyed to the Gypsy Hill Park, Staunton Braves Stadium, and Wright’s Dairy-Rite where car hops still come out and take your order. Little has changed from the day it opened in 1952.

As we walked the winding hills in town, up past Trinity Church, and up the street to Mary Baldwin College, wonderful things began to happen. We remembered our motor scooter rides around town, and how Doc Haley, our poodle, used to sit under our large maple tree and listen to the Robert E. Lee High School band practice. The memory made us smile and nod.

My uncle kept his promise

By Patrick Haley
Guest Post

People of various religious affiliations choose to offer sacrifices, such as ‘giving-up’ a favorite food or activity, as a form of penance during the Lenten Season in preparation for Easter.

‘Giving up’ something isn’t as easy as it sounds. Ask someone battling an addiction, or someone who has a family member seeking sobriety.

Addiction is an unreasonable disease that often comes like a thief in the night, stealing the person’s dignity and sense of worth, as the family bears untold suffering –mourning the loss of their love one’s former self.

I grew up with an alcohol addicted uncle. He was my mom’s brother, and he lived with us throughout my formative years.

According to stories Mom shared with me when I became a young adult, my uncle had been an innocent farm boy – one who had never been outside Clinton County. That is, not until he was drafted into the U.S. Army in 1941 during World War II.

Bogie visits Sycamore Glen

By Patrick Haley
Guest Post

It is Valentine’s Day. My wife, Brenda, and I have plans to begin our evening with a quiet candlelight dinner. We will share with each other those special thoughts, those heartfelt feelings, and speak of things that warm our hearts and souls.

We will talk about the good times. We will easily remember our trip to Harper’s Ferry when we walked for an hour in the rain, and bought ice cream in the little country store. We might speak of our night on Broadway in New York City on New Year’s Eve, when we ate at the little neighborhood delicatessen.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year from all of us at LynnRMitchell.com

The reason for the season….

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and goodwill towards men.” Luke 2:8-20

The true meaning of Christmas … a time for the Christian world to pause and celebrate the birth of the son of God.

As 2014 comes to a close, we are thankful for a successful year and especially for our readers who contribute and share the posts we publish at LynnRMitchell.com.

It is a time to remember those who have special meaning in our lives. We are grateful to have our core group of contributors –Kurt, David, Daniel, and Lynn — working together as each brings a unique perspective that is shared in our writings:

Shenandoah Valley: An Augusta County Independence Day

Some of our American flags in front of the house.

A tale of independence at St. John’s Church

By Patrick Haley

My wife, Brenda, and I lived and worked in Richmond, Virginia, a town rich in history, a few years ago.On the east end of town sitting atop a hill in one of Richmond’s oldest neighborhoods, Church Hill, was St. John’s Episcopal Church. Still active, it was built in 1741.

One evening after work, Brenda and I decided to walk the three blocks up to the famous church where Patrick Henry gave his “Give me liberty or give me death!” speech. As we arrived, a reenactment of the famous speech had just taken place. It was quite impressive and dramatic.