Good Day, Fellow Rotarians!

April 1, 2020

At this time, we are in the middle of a global pandemic. so it would seem appropriate that the column for this month's Windmill would be about CoVID-19. Considering that I work in a health-care facility that is frantically preparing for the worst, while doing our best to prevent it, I almost went down that road.

This virus has indirectly caused our club to halt an event that has been part of our mission and history for decades now, the annual Italian Night (formerly the Spaghetti Supper). Fortunately for all, the word "postponed" sounds a lot better than "cancelled". I look forward to this night, to being in the kitchen almost every year for the past 20 years, realizing that recently the responsibility of that food purchase and preparation has pretty much fallen on my own shoulders. I know that if I were unable to make my part of the process happen, the rest of you would certainly step up to the task, as you all did for a couple of years when I had to be away from Rotary. I never forgot and I always showed up anyway, asked if I could help, and enjoyed a terrific meal. This is the focus of my stream-of-consciousness ramble today.

Some memories are pretty strong still. The year 2000 was my rookie year. I had become a member of the Club in December 1999, and I asked for kitchen duties right away. I don't know if it was because I happened to be an already familiar face to many of the people manning the hot pots in the kitchen, but I was reluctantly admitted to that inner circle in my first season – a starting player, bypassing the dishwashing league and tossed right into the salad (preparation, that is). Tom Paquin showed me how it was done. Knock the cores out of the lettuce, slice the tomatoes and cucumbers, we don't use peppers because nobody likes them, etc. (looking back, I think it was just Tom). I put together a couple of big bowls of salad, and then spent the next couple hours draining hot spaghetti and plating it for the front-of-the-house. At that point we had no sausage or stuffed shells on the menu, and gluten-free wasn't even a thing yet. I stayed just out of reach of John Page, who had a sharp knife and a pile of garlic bread nearby, and gave me the impression he could take me out at any minute. Shep and Jim T. were hard at work on everything at once. Dan Z. brought some venison chili for lunch, and I managed to sneak a couple of meatballs and a chunk of that garlic bread before supper. Being a lifelong fan of food and cooking, I was hooked.

I don't recall everything, and some things have changed over the years, the faces and the names, the methods and the menu, but I look back on the past 20 years with fondness and an appreciation for all of those who have been there with me, and especially those that have passed on. I hope that in the next 20 years, we maintain our traditions for the sake of helping others in our community. "Service Above Self" is not just a saying, not only a motto or words on a banner. For most of us, it is the way we live our lives and pass that ethic to younger generations.

Author: Jon Endres
Windmill