Grandboys - What A Legacy - Reprise

Not quite a year ago, I posted a blog titled – Grandboys – What A Legacy. In light of the past week’s events, I feel compelled to use the tag again.

A bit of history may be in order. I grew up hardly knowing my grandparents. My mother’s father died before I was born. Mom always told me how much I would have liked him but, alas, that was not meant to be. His widow (my grandma on my mother’s side and my dad’s parents lived in southern New Jersey. During my childhood days in the 50’s we lived in western upstate New York near Lake Ontario. Although we did visit New Jersey once or maybe twice a year, the distance was simply too great for any more frequency than that. Thus, although I knew them, I did not really have a “relationship” with them. In the 60’s – my adolescent years – we lived in Rhode Island, much closer to New Jersey but by then my remaining grandparents had aged out and were promoted to glory.

In 1966 my family moved to Milton – one of the best things that has happened in my life. Milton was welcoming and became my true home. Sue (born & raised in Milton as were her parents before her) and I married in 1970 and set up shop. We raised two daughters, Amanda & Nicole, who married Milton men and settled down here. They blessed us with two grandsons each. We rejoiced in the opportunity to be primary caregivers for those precious young men from the time they were born. These guys became great friends and very much enjoyed and enjoy playing together. They are each two years apart, providing a nice mix.

End result > we have created very strong relationships with these four guys. Our house is their house, they are very comfortable coming here and now just show up on their own. They know the location of the food and beverages (which we keep stocked to their liking) and simply make themselves at home. We love it.

We enjoyed some wonderful trips with them which further established the bonding and relationship. We found the best arrangement for these trips was to pair up cousins. The two oldest from each family (Ivan & TJ) and the two youngest (Gus & Emmit). Both pairs traveled (separate trips) to Hocking Hills, Ohio with us where Sue and I had discovered a great little town and phenomenal, picturesque hiking. They were great travelers, and we never had disciplinary issues. Ivan & TJ accompanied us in our RV to Indiana Dunes Park on lower Lake Michigan – another great time. We camped in the RV (aptly named Espresso) at Bong Recreational Area with Gus & Emmit and attended the Kenosha area Renaissance Fair. The boys loved it and so did we.

As the boys matured and grew, we ventured a bit further afield. TJ and Ivan flew with us to Salt Lake City. Our accommodations were in Park City – an incredibly beautiful location. Here, my nephew Peter (a professor at University of Utah) introduced them to “real” mountain biking.  This was the first time either TJ or Ivan had flown or seen mountains. This was a life changing trip in many ways (see my blog post – Once Upon the Wasatch – Espresso Shots. (You can find it at cruzanespressoshots.blogspot.com – once there you would need to scroll down to find this specific post)

A few short months later we took Gus & Emmit to Anna Maria Island in Florida for Spring Break. Neither of them had ever flown or seen the ocean so that was an incredible trip as well.

So here we are on Labor Day weekend 2024. These four young men are now 19, 16, 14, & 12. Ivan just moved into his dorm at Platteville, Gus is a junior, TJ will has moved to the high school as a freshman while Emmit moves to the middle school as a 7^th grader. Where has the time gone?

Ivan is essentially gone for now and the other three are very busy young men with sports, music, and a myriad of other activities. I was strongly feeling the end of summer and this time of dispersal closing in. I found my state of nostalgia very powerful. I wanted to do something to bring these four guys together before this next stage of life landed on us. I landed on a breakfast at Denny’s for Sue & I and the boys. Sounds simple but something like this can be a challenge to schedule with the commitments we all have.

As it turned out, last Monday (final week before school) the six of us gathered at Denny’s at 7 a.m. We had a great meal and a wonderful time. It was so meaningful to see these guys all together engaging in their bantering and fun-filled ways. Something to warm the cockles of a grandfather’s heart.

I figured that as soon as we had devoured breakfast that the boys would all disperse to their own activities but to my surprise and joy, they chose to spend the entire day at our house. In fact, they gathered at our house off and on most of the week. So nostalgic and so much fun.

Both Sue and I are bikers (cycling). We involved the boys in this activity early on in their lives and were privileged to help them select bikes as they outgrew bikes as they matured. They are all very good bikers and enjoy this activity a great deal. I often referred to them as my biker gang and have a great picture of all four of  them leaning on their bikes as very young boys. I have had the dream of recreating that picture but never could get the logistics figured out – too many moving pieces. Well, I mentioned this after breakfast last Monday and, to my great satisfaction, the boys were all over it. We grabbed bikes from my garage, trooped over to the Milton College campus and got some great updated shots. They seemed to really enjoy that, and I was thrilled. I have inserted the two pics at the end of this post.

So, in my loquacious way, I have rambled on long enough. To sum up, last week, watching these young men gather again, enjoy each other’s company, play, connect, and want to be together was so heartwarming. What occurred naturally was beyond my wildest expectations.

Yes indeed! Grandboys are awesome and my life has been so much richer because of them. This legacy is pure gold!

 

 

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The Rewards That Mean the Most of All

In his book, The 50 Year Dash, author, Bob Greene, wrote –

“The rewards that mean the most of all, you now understand, are not presented by anyone else. They come to you during the moments you are doing something that you know in your heart is absolutely right. It may be something that other people ridicule or don’t comprehend; it may be something that no one else in the world is even aware you are doing. Something you feel fervently about, something that is almost holy in the meaning to you, in the devotion that you bring to it.  And that others don’t understand - or will never know you’ve done them – does not matter at all. At 50, you don’t have to announce this or explain it to anyone. You know, which is all that matters. The best reward.”

While age 50 has become history to me, these words have stayed with me and, out of the blue, came home to roost about 7:30 a.m. this morning as I was leaving Milton’s Main Street Market Piggly Wiggly after picking up a few items needed at home.

Heading to my car, I passed the bench that is not far from the Pig’s front door. A lady, probably a bit older than me, was sitting there in the sun looking at me very intently. I greeted her and she asked if I recognized her. I replied that I thought she looked familiar but couldn’t place her name or how I might be acquainted with her.

She then told me her first name and where she lived, followed by the question, “Have you ever delivered Meals on Wheels?” My answer was, “Yes, I have delivered Meals on Wheels for a number of years but only occasionally when our church rotation occurred every six or eight weeks.

By then the light in my memory ignited and I recalled her name, and the location of her apartment in the building where she lived. She affirmed my recollection and went on to describe her recent health improvement (she could barely answer the door when I delivered meals over the years) that allowed her to get out and walk some as well as do much more for herself than before. She asked my name and said she had heard that before. She then asked where I lived, what church I belonged to and if it used to host a turkey supper, and other odds and ends. She wanted to know if I knew the time. I looked at my watch and told her. She said she had to get going, got up and walked toward her apartment building.

What a great start to the day. Who would have thought that a routine shopping trip to the Main Street Market would have led to this phenomenal encounter out of the blue?

Or was it out of the blue? Columnist Jenny Anderson says it this way – “This was community. Community is about a series of small choices and everyday actions: how to spend a Saturday, what to do when a neighbor falls ill, how to make time went there is none. Knowing others and being known; investing in somewhere instead of trying to be everywhere. Communities are built, like Legos, one brick at a time. There’s no hack.”

My very positive, heartening interaction this morning was, pure and simple, COMMUNITY. Who knew that an occasional Meals On Wheels delivery over a number of years would engender this encounter? Never, never underestimate the power of your interactions and investment in people and community. “The rewards that mean the most of all come to you during the moments you are doing something that you know in your heart is absolutely right. You don’t have to announce this or explain it to anyone, you know, which is all that matters. The best reward.

After all WE ARE MILTON!  

Grandchildren - What A Legacy!

Grandchildren – What a Legacy! 

Hats Off To Grandpa Ted!

I am so fortunate to live in the same community with my four grandchildren – all grandsons. This is so different from my experience with my grandfathers. My mother’s father died before I was born. Thus, I never knew him or had the opportunity to develop a relationship with him although Mabel, my mother, always told me I would have loved him. I did know my dad’s father, Roy Cruzan but, when I was a child, my family was so far away from him that I really had no relationship with him. I did see him once or twice a year on visits to South Jersey where he lived but there was no time to bond or grow with him.

By contrast, Sue and I have been caregivers for each of our grandsons from the time they were born. Our house is their house, and we enjoy wonderful relationships with all four.

This blog post, with no intention of ignoring the remaining three, will focus on our first, Ivan.

Ivan was the first great grandson of Ivan FitzRandolph for whom he was named. He was the first grandchild of both of his grandfathers, Ted Sykora and me. So, you see, Ivan grew up basking in the doting love of both of his grandpas.

Ivan has always been a hard worker and was ready and willing to assist with nearly any task. He is a great yard caretaker, a life saver when it is time to put up outside Christmas lights, and other things too numerous to list here.

This past fall, while helping me with some firewood chores. I mentioned to Ivan that I’d really like to avail myself of a wood splitter to clean up and make useable a couple of downed trees in my back forty. I should mention that many years ago, I did wood splitting with a mall and wedges and then hauled the fireplace size pieces on a toboggan to the house where I stored them in the basement. Physically, I can no longer do splitting this way. Ivan picked up on this immediate and replied that his other grandpa, Ted Sykora (whom most of you knew as a great local dentist), had built a wood splitter several years ago and that he (Ivan) had assisted him. Ivan thought that, maybe, that splitter could be transported into town from Ted & Laura’s farm, and we could use it. This immediately created a warm, special feeling in me so I told Ivan I would speak to his dad and to see what he thought of this idea.

I need to digress here and state that today, December 14, 2023, is one year since Ted was promoted to Glory after a valiant struggle with cancer. Ivan, as well as his brother Gus, was close with Ted and helped him around the farm. Ivan became a caregiver for Ted during his illness and often stayed with him overnight as those needs arose.

Ted and I did not know each other well – primarily passing acquaintances – but I heard so much about him from Ivan. While primarily known as one of Milton’s dentists, Ted also managed a small farmstead. I don’t think there was anything this man couldn’t do. He created and made things from scratch (the wood splitter being a phenomenal example). He built his house as well as helping his son, Leif, and daughter Candice build theirs. He made do with what he had.  I have absolutely no skills of this kind at all and so admire those who do. By contrast my tools are basically pens and legal pads. Ted also played the cello. Ivan plays violin but his younger brother, Gus, plays the cello.

So, back to the beginning of this story – transporting the homemade wood splitter to town became a reality. Leif and Ivan checked it out at the farm and got it running. Then they transported it to my woods behind my house (no, I did not build it, nor would I have a clue) in the middle of town. Ivan ensured that it was set up near the wood that was ready for splitting. Leif and Ivan provided instructions on its operation (remember that this is hand made from spare parts laying about the farm) and we were good to go.

A couple of days later, Ivan and I spent a few quality hours together splitting and stacking wood. I had the hard job of operating the lever that controlled the ram while Ivan hauled and stacked. We enjoyed each other’s company and the sense of satisfaction of good work well done. 

Throughout this time together, I was overcome with love and emotion. Working side-by-side with a grandson is a true joy. I could not help but reflect on Ivan helping his Grandpa Ted build this piece of useful equipment and then help me, his Grandpa Jon, with this task.  Ivan learned so much from Ted – how to use his hands, how to create, how to make do, and how to give back and support others. Ted, I hope you were watching us that day and in days to come as Ivan and I continue working with this splitter. I can only imagine the smile on your face.

 

Building Bridges, Forging Connections, and Establishing Positive Relationships

I have been blessed and overwhelmed by all the congratulations and affirming comments I have received since being inducted into the School District of Milton’s Wall of Honor last Thursday night. In a perfect world I could convey my appreciation and thanks to all these people individually. That, however, seems nearly impossible to me so I will cover as many as possible here in this Espresso Shots post. To that end, I am posting here a scaled-down version of my acceptance comments given at the ceremony last Thursday night.

Several months ago, when I first heard about the Wall of Honor concept for our school district, I was very pleased. I love the concept, but never in my wildest imagination did I ever entertain the idea that I might be nominated and selected as an honoree. When I was informed I had been nominated and selected for this year’s induction. I was completely overwhelmed with surprise and emotion but, oh, so highly honored.

Taking nothing away from any individual inductees, I see The Wall of Honor as a community building concept – a clear example of working collaboratively and collectively to create a synergy - a situation where the whole is greater than the sum of the parts.

I refer to myself as a Community Catalyst. If nothing else, it creates a great conversation starter. So, what is a catalyst?  Return to your chemistry days where there is a proven way to make change happen faster: Catalysts convert air into fertilizer and petroleum into bike helmets. But most intriguing is the way they generate change. Add a catalyst. Instead of adding heat or pressure, a catalyst provides an alternate route, reducing the amount of energy required for reactions to occur. Here’s the important part for me – rather than pushing, catalysts remove barriers.

I believe I invest time intentionally and diligently to build bridges and remove barriers across the community. How do I accomplish this. We don’t have the time tonight, but I believe a couple of thoughts are worth sharing.

I was fortunate to have Earl & Mabel, parents of extremely high standards, incredible values, significantly deep faith, and exemplary work ethic. As a child and teenager, I’m not sure I totally appreciated this and I’m sure I railed against what I saw then as restrictions and limitations. Now at age 73 and reflecting, I was and am so fortunate.

As I transitioned to adulthood, my life was transformed by the presence and influence of positive mentors and advocates. Professors at Milton College were an initial part of this posse. Several others are sitting in this room tonight. It seems I was unconsciously competent – I could do a variety of things quite well but didn’t really understand all that went into that. Apparently, these people saw something positive and chose to affirm, nurture, and encourage me. Because of these positive influences, I left my initial chosen field of school teaching and entered the world of corporate human resources (we used to call it personnel). I found a successful career where I spent nearly 40 years.

Because of these positive encouraging influencers, I began to move from unconscious competence to conscious competence. HR was a good fit, and I was learning why and how to become better. This wasn’t always easy. I needed correction and guidance often, but these people were masters of this. The organizations for which I worked also made clear the necessity of being intentionally and actively involved in helping make the community better and stronger.

Oh, the power of positive affirmation. In my strong opinion, we must catch people doing things right and then affirm them in these behaviors. Whether it’s students with grades & activities, elected officials, volunteers, salesclerks, police officers, teachers, administrators, pastors, or whomever – positive affirmation is powerful. Never, never underestimate the positive influence you can be.

Careers and community involvement are nearly impossible without strong family support.  Sue and I dated in high school and are now in our 54^th year of marriage. Sue has always supported my career and community activities despite their sometimes inconvenience. My two adult daughters, Nicole and Amanda, along with their husbands, Tom and Leif are also strong supporters. Of course, my biker gang – Rising Red Hawks – Ivan, Gus, TJ and Emmit are part of that club as well.

Sue is an accomplished flower gardener – sometimes uses the tag – Dahlia Girl. She finds that applying her interest and craft in flowers is a great balancer.  I am, clearly, not a gardener of plants but I do consider my beloved community, Milton, my garden. It requires planting, watering, weeding, harvesting, and tending in a variety of ways. My family has supported me in this for years.

I was a young adolescent during the Folk Era. Peter, Paul, & Mary were a clear leading favorite. At the risk of implanting a song in your head that you may take to bed with you tonight, I offer you this brief sample.  The words go.

Inch by inch, row by row 

Gonna make this garden grow.

All it takes is a rake and a hoe

And a piece of fertile ground

 

Plant your rows straight and long.

Temper them with prayer and song.

Mother Earth (that’s Milton) will make you strong

If you give her love and care.

 

Inch by inch, row by row

Someone bless these seeds I sow.

Someone warm them from below

Till the rain comes tumbling down

(This song has been covered by many, many artists. This link will take you to the version I like. If you decide to view it, please watch for the kids’ reactions. After all, are we all investing in them and their futures? You may also simply search YouTube for Peter, Paul, & Mary – The Garden Song.            ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHhRyjwYnX0)

Kari asked, “What would I like my legacy to be?” This baffled me for a bit, but I have settled on this – I would like to be remembered as a positive “character” in my community.

Thank you for this honor and for your attention this evening. I will conclude with a quote from a favorite author, Wallace Stegner. This is from one of his essays written for the PBS program, This I believe -

“I will certainly never do as much with my life as I want to, and I shall sometimes fail miserably to live up to my conscience, whose word I do not distrust even when I can’t obey it. But I am terribly glad to be alive; and when I have wit enough to think about it, terribly proud to be an American, with all the rights and privileges that these words connote; and most of all I am humble before the responsibilities that are also mine. For no right comes without a responsibility, and being born luckier than most of the world’s millions, I am also more obligated.”  

To all of you well-wishers - Thank you soooo… much!  This honor means more to me than I know how to express.

What a great community!

#CRUZAN4MILTON#WEAREMILTON

 

 

 

  

Feels Like Home To Me

Already, two weeks have come and gone since Milton’s great Independence Day Holiday Weekend Celebration. For me, this special time generated much reflection and introspection on a variety of levels.

For a small, but growing city, Milton sure seems to have a “lock” on how to celebrate this most meaningful holiday. There is a great deal of history that has brought us to this point – history filled with countless moving parts, and untold volunteer hours. The array of attractions and activities covers multigenerational age groups. What fun, but also, what a testament to community – to individuals, organizations, school groups, merchants, governmental bodies, all working cooperatively to provide a class act for all citizens and residents. This does not just happen, especially in our fragmented world. I believe we can be proud that, as a community, we have discovered ways of being together that make Milton such a wonderful place to live, work, raise children, and grandchildren. The multiplicity of Schilberg Park activities was phenomenal. I particularly enjoyed seeing some of our merchants, school groups, and other vendors there.

The Optimist Run has long standing memory for me. In ancient history, I used to run the 10-K but no more. For many, many years now, my brother-in-law (and good friend), Brian Bliese and I, as timers, have had the privilege of working at the very start of the race and then hightailing it to the finish line so that we can welcome those first miler finishers. This year we both enjoyed having a new generation - grandchildren (Toby, Tenley, and Gus) working with us. And so, it goes – the march of years.

The run is like a reunion. We greet and chat with people who have participated in this event for years. The volunteers in the results tent have done this for years as have those handling announcing the results and distributing ribbons and trophies.

I particularly like the picture below from this year’s event. In it you see the finish line. I am back-to in the black shirt (#milton pride) and Brian is on my right. On the other side of the street is Skip Drew. Skip and I are high school classmates and all three of us are Milton College graduates as is long-time Race Director and Municipal Judge, Kris Koeffler – Yes, The Spirit Lives. Also in this picture are the first mile finishers about ready to cross the line. The leader is my grandson, Ivan, and neck & neck with him is his friend Braden. The run is tradition, connection, & fun. It is also “give back” and helping young people grow. If you want & expect a vibrant and connected community that’s just what you do.

Milton’s July 4^th parade is also iconic. It’s a time for families and friends to reunite and rekindle important relationships. It’s a time for reminiscing, for catching up and renewing. The pride and celebration are palpable as, carried by our local veterans, our Stars & Stripes lead the way. This is always a respectful and honorable moment as spectators stand and salute and pure emotion creeps into every throat. Our two school bands are always popular, and nostalgia runs rampant as many spectators remember their own marching days gone by.

Our phenomenal fireworks display closes out the day and just like that it’s July 5^th. The carnival is gone, the special traffic direction signs are gone, the blankets and tarps have disappeared from the Madison Avenue terraces and those white directional arrows painted on the roads to guide the runners begin to fade. Miltonites return to their normal jobs, routines, and processes.

But something does remain – the spirit of community, camaraderie, working together, pride of place – all these gain oxygen and become stronger.

On July 6, I experienced an additional shot of reflection and contemplation. Like many others, I am in rotation to deliver Meals on Wheels. My turn comes up something like every six weeks, so it is certainly not onerous. What a great program. People who have challenges that prevent them from getting out have a nutritious meal delivered to their door. Not only does this provide essential dietary needs but also a point of social connection – a check in - that is likely just as important as the food. It is heartening for me to realize that Meals on Wheels or similar variations take place across the United States. Talk about community and connection!

As I was delivering meals on the 6^th, I drove by the Middle School and noticed a new wording on their front lawn sign. I went by too quickly to read it carefully so, when my deliveries were complete, I drove down there to take a close look. What I saw is in the second picture. I had to stop and catch my breath. What a phenomenal sentiment and salute to our students – “our kids.”  It made me think of these words which are credited to Charles Schwab. “I’ve yet to find the man, however exalted in his station, who did not do better work and put forth greater effort under a spirit of approval than under the spirit of criticism.” Great sentiment for anyone in a supervisory or leadership role. In my work with our great school system, I consistently see our teachers, administrators, and staff members implementing this philosophy in their daily activities. Thank you, Tara & Ben, for your leadership at our Middle School and for providing our community with this great salute to our kids.

Because Milton is and does feel like home to me, I pledge to use this July 4^th “shot in the arm” to continue to find new ways to be together in community, to bridge differences with integrity, to relate with love and respect and thereby continue to help Milton on its journey to being even better than it already is. I invite you to join me.

#cruzan4milton#WEAREMILTON

 

 

 

Dear Milton, Our Mother, Fair Milton, All Hail !

Dear, Milton, Our Mother, Fair Milton, All Hail!

The words above, while quite formal, speak eloquently to my feelings about this community in which I am privileged to live, work, and raise children and grandchildren. They are borrowed from the song, “Our Colors”, written about Milton College in 1911 by William C. Daland.

I reflect often about this community and its influence on me for the past 57 years. It has been incredibly positive for so many reasons. While we have our differences and don’t always see eye, we generally come around to be able to work for the common good.

Foremost in my mind today are two very recent issues of which I am being “nudged” to share my thoughts here. One is very general and very public. The other can be very general but is also very personal and, while a bit embarrassing, needs to be told for reasons which, I believe, will become obvious as you read on.

First the more general issue. I continue to be amazed by the absolutely phenomenal services we residents receive from our public works department. So obvious the past few days is the significant effort to clean up fallen leaves from our streets before major snowfall. Some years, this is unavoidable as we mere humans don’t control when the leaves fall or when the first major snowfall arrives. The resulting mess - frozen leaf-packed snowbanks on the edges of our yards next to the street is nasty. Kudos to Mark Langer and your outstanding staff that make all this work.

The more personal issue concerns my own behavior yesterday. I was driving west on East High Street, very prudently I thought. Recently, prodded by the new “radar signs” that display my speed, I have been concentrating on adhering closely to the 25 MPH limit on almost all our city streets. I understand this, agree with it, and most of the time comply. I believe that these regulations are not “just signs”, as I ‘ve heard some say, but are safety laws for the protection of us all. Many of you would not want to be behind me on the interstate as I set my cruise at the posted limit and then try to stay out of the way in the right lane. I can feel the impatience of many as they literally fly around me. Quite frankly, I feel the impatience from fellow citizens when I am driving 30 on Madison Ave. and 25 on our other streets. But, I digress.

Today, on my westward drive from my house on E. High St. to Hometown Ace, a police car appeared in my rearview mirror, and I felt I was being assessed. I checked my speed but that was okay. Sure enough, the red and blues illuminated, and I pulled over near the Cone Zone. An officer cautiously approached and very politely and professionally asked if I was feeling okay. I replied that I was. He then asked if there was a reason why I had not stopped at the stop sign by the high school and Rainbow Drive. I was flabbergasted as I didn’t even realize I had missed this stop. How many millions of times have I driven this street and always stopped? I hadn’t this day and didn’t even realize it. I do believe they call that “distracted” driving. My mind was elsewhere. I was embarrassed, felt foolish, and more as visions of what might possibly have happened because of my distractedness. Dwell on that thought a bit. We all need to.

I was given a verbal warning and urged to be alert and obey stop signs, especially in school zones during school time.

I was angry but only with myself. I applaud this officer, whose name I failed to get, who did his duty and apprehended me. And he did it in an incredibly professional manner. Chief Marquardt, I applaud you and your staff for all that you do to keep us safe.

Thank you to our city protectors. I am comforted knowing I am being protected (maybe from myself) by your diligence and service.

Next week we celebrate Thanksgiving Day. I am so grateful for this vivid reminder of the incredibly rich lives we enjoy in Milton, Our City.

Dear Milton, Our Mother, Fair Milton, All Hail!

#cruzan4milton#WEAREMILTON

Historic Grounds Create Community Grind

Last Christmas I was given a most interesting and unique gift – a subscription to Storyworth. What is Storyworth? A business that provides a writing prompt weekly. The idea is to write a short story and publish it on the Storyworth website where a group of people you select may read it. At the end of a year, all your stories are published in a very nice hard-bound book. It’s a great concept which I have enjoyed although I cannot keep pace with a weekly story. Also, in case you have failed to notice, I tend to be rather wordy in my writing where Storyworth seems to lend itself to shorter, more concise entries. I don’t believe there are rules about this but that is my take. My most recent prompt was, Am I a Regular at any Restaurant or Café? I published my story on Storyworth but felt an urge to broaden it out a bit and publish it in Espresso Shots where it would have more broad exposure. So here it is... 

I never thought about having a “regular” place that I considered mine until Sharla’s Coffee Stop came along. Of course, there were places I liked to go but nothing that approached my feelings about Sharla’s.

So, what is the attraction? Oh, so many things. . . to begin, the proprietors, Dave & Sharla, are wonderful people. I struck a bond with them quickly on the first day they opened.

The location is incredibly perfect for several reasons. Sharla’s is in Whitford Hall, one of the precious old buildings on the Historic Milton College Campus. The rooms they occupy were formerly the college and community library. The walls, windows, wainscoting, and flooring are all original. The history is palpable as you sit and savor great espresso-based beverages, freshly baked scones, muffins, cinnamon rolls, and breads. Even more, there are a variety of beverage offerings for those non-coffee drinkers.

I should mention that Sharla’s is a mere 250 steps from my driveway. My home office window has a perfect view of their great patio. Additionally, Sue and I have significant ties to Milton College for a host of reasons – the place is in our bones. A great coffee shop just seems “right.”

Our phenomenal city, Milton, has no other small business like this. In fact, Sharla’s is the only “true” coffee shop with a 10-mile radius. Sharla’s has become a gathering place not only for those who live in my “home base” - the Milton College Historic Neighborhood, but also for the city and the broader area. The atmosphere at Sharla’s embodies neighborhood and community.

Milton schools and all those Rising Red Hawk students are very important to me. Dave and Sharla have embraced Milton High School’s, School to Career program, and hire many of our high school students. I so enjoy becoming acquainted with them and observing as they grow and learn about “adult world” working skills. Many have become friends. I know their names and they know mine along with my favorite coffee beverage when I walk in the door. We recognize and greet each other when our paths happen to cross at other events. I have become acquainted with their parents. Some have graduated and moved on but there is the occasional connection. OPPORTUNITY, ACHIEVMENT, COMMUNITY – a perfect example.

When I go to Sharla’s (some accuse me of living or having an office there) I encounter so many people whom I know from across the community and region. It’s the greatest location for a “meet-up” and serves so well the “work” that I do.  To me, Milton is like my garden. It requires planting, cultivating, watering, pruning, fertilizing - just like a garden. Sharla’s is the perfect place to do that.

Katie & Eric own the building. They and their family live in the top floor and operate a Cross Fit studio on the ground floor. They are good neighbors and great people. I love running into them there. Eric is on the City Council, so I get a chance to bend his ear a bit about our community. I see local shop owners there, Kate & Kelly, and many others. I see the library staff, Ashlee, Jayme, and their gang stopping in. I see Amber, Bill, and author Jim, from the neighborhood. I see Jessica, Ryan and many others from the school district, Keaton from the Historical Society, Doug from the Milton College Preservation Society, friends from my Mercy days, my spiritual coaches (I need many) Pastor Liz & Pastor Nate, and high school classmates. Sharla's has hosted community meetings, piano & voice recitals, high school study groups, knitting clubs, MOFIA – my men's Bible study group (you're welcome to join us at 6:30 a.m. every Wednesday), yoga, personal counseling, mutual support, and much more – the “stuff” of life as it were. I often encounter city council and school board members there.  True neighborhood and community building in action.

If you haven’t visited Sharla’s, you are missing so many good things that make and foster our community.

#cruzan4milton#WEAREMILTON