Back in my senior year in high school, I was asked to be a Rotary Observer for the month of November. It was considered to be an honor to be named this. It usually went to a really smart jock. I think I was asked because it was football season and Rotary meetings were on football practice night. Plus, I was Vice President of Student Council and a wrestler (worst wrestler ever).
So now I may have you confused. What is a Rotary Observer?, one might ask. The Rotary Club International is a fraternal organization (yes, women were not allowed) much like The Lions or The Jaycees or The Oddfellows (strange name, right?). Most towns had their own local chapter of Rotary International. I am talking about the Slatington Chapter. It was made up of town leaders like doctors, lawyers, and Indian chiefs. Sorry, got carried away there. It was made up of doctors, lawyers, school administrators, and local businessmen. They would meet once a month, at Herman’s Restaurant, have drinks, then dinner, and then listen to a speaker. I think the idea was to give a chance for a student with potential to rub elbows with the rich and powerful.
The night arrives for the meeting I am to attend. I dress in a coat and tie and drive to Herman’s Restaurant. I am nervous because I know none of these people and I am hoping someone takes me under their wing. I find out that the speaker that night is a nun who is showing slides and talking about a mission trip to New Guinea, or some place like that. Okay, that sounds interesting. Maybe this won’t be that bad. Plus, free food.
I mentioned above that this meeting started with drinks. That must have started long before I got there. It was loud and very obvious that many of my town leaders were buzzed, at the least. Our high school principal, Mr. Kemp, did take me under his wing and introduced me to a lot of the men. That part was ok. The food was good. For anyone who remembers Herman’s, it was always good. Then it was time for the speaker.
She was a small woman in a full habit, like all nuns wore back then. I miss seeing that. She seemed a little nervous. Did I mention the drinking? I did. It continued through the meal and into the nun’s presentation. I was embarrassed by the rudeness and lack of decorum from our town “leaders”. I was embarrassed for the nun. She tried her best. But she was loudly talked over. She was interrupted in the middle of sentences. Her slides were the target of rude and sometimes off-color comments. It was a debacle and the first time I was truly disappointed by adults I looked up to. This was around the time we were encouraged not to trust anyone over 30. Perhaps I should have taken that more seriously!
It’s funny how that was fifty years ago and I think of it often. Whenever I see or hear a similar act of rudeness on someone’s part, I am immediately taken back to Herman’s Restaurant. It ended up being a powerful learning experience for me. Three things in particular. People aren’t necessarily who you think they are. Drinking has a powerful effect on peoples’ judgement. Never be surprised by anything. So, today, if someone mentions Herman’s Restaurant to me, I try to think of the food. The food was good.
A Semi-retired Kind of Life 