Bonjour! When we awoke we were in the port of Marseille. As we learned from our various tour guides, the Greeks had a tremendous influence in this area and founded the city over 2600 years ago. It is the oldest city in France. Today was the first of our planned excursions and we needed to hustle to make our 8:00 am muster time. We would leave the ship and board a bus which was going to take us to the city of Avignon where we would also tour the Palais des Papes (Pope’s Palace). Avignon is on the banks of the Rhone River. In order to ensure the safety and stability of the Catholic Chuch hierarchy the papacy moved to France in 1309 and stayed until 1377. The palace is one of the largest and most well preserved examples of medieval architecture. There is also a vibrant arts community in Avignon & there was actually an art exhibit being held in the palace. It was an exhibition titled, “To Life, to love” by the french street artist known as Miss.Tic.

Our guide was a petite woman with a vast knowledge of the medieval period and the palace itself. She spoke softly in a lilting French accent that was sometimes drowned out by the crowds around us. She did make attempts to bring us into areas that were less occupied while she was explaining the sites. The palace was actually 2 adjoining buildings: the old palace and the new palace. Built on a rocky outcrop that overlooks the river the interior was lavishly decorated with frescoes, tapestries, paintings, statues and ornate wood ceilings which remain in place to this day.

There is also available a digitally recreated rendering of what the 25 different areas would have looked like before the contents were lost to antiquity. It helps fill in the gaps when you’ve been looking at a lot of empty spaces. Our guide provided us a lot of information about what the specific rooms were used for and how they would have been decorated. (Lavish for a medieval Pope but a far cry from what we would witness at the Vatican when we were in Rome.)

We also had some time to wander around the historical part of the town before we returned to the bus. Kim & Doug even had time for a quick beer.

We hugged the Rhone River for a short while on our drive back to port passing through pictureque countryside which is the home to vinyards and farms. Tomorrow would be a full day excursion while we toured Nice, Eze and Monaco. Another early call with a tender port. This called for some relaxation back at the ship, a show, dinner & some not to late night entertainment if we were going to have the energy to pound a lot of pavement tomorrow.

The Celebrity Equinox launched in 2009 and is one of the Solstice class ships. It was fully refurbished in 2019 and most recently in dry dock April, 2024 for painting & maintenance. It boasts a 1115 seat theater where it holds world class entertainment, a state of the art spa & fitness center (it made the gym I have a membership at look sickly), bars, pools, lounges, restaurants, a real grass lawn on the top deck & a glass-blowing studio. This is where we were headed as we prepared our luggage for transport and made sure we had our day bags ready for exploring the ship.

We had done all our pre-boarding check in online via the Celebrity Cruise app so when we arrived at the terminal all we had to do was hand over our luggage and have our boarding passes scanned a few times then up the gangplank we went.

All the online Cruise Chat sites we trolled the past year paid off as we were fully prepared to enjoy the day onboard. We had packed our pool attire, change of clothes & dinner clothes in our personal items in case we didn’t get our luggage in a timely fashion. In fact, our room was ready when we arrived & our luggage was delivered within the hour. Kim & Doug did have to wait a few hours for their stuff to be accessible. (Several days later we would encounter a woman on the elevator who’s luggage had traveled more than she had & was just now catching up with her!)

With luggage in hand we decided to unpack & set up our stateroom. Surprisingly, we had plenty of room. Between closet space, drawers, underbed storage and the 12 heavy duty magnetized hooks I brought with me we were able to stow all our clothes, accessories & bags.

We had decided to watch the ship depart the port of Barcelona from the Sky Observation Lounge which overlooks the stern of the ship. (OK, so when you cruise with a former sailor you must use correct ship lingo so: Stern is the back of the ship, Bow is the pointy front of the ship, Forward is toward the bow and Aft is toward the stern, Port means left when you are facing forward & Starboard means right when you are facing forward. There will be a test & I wandered around for days before I figured out where the hell I was going most of the time.)

Don & I had scouted out and obtained the best seats in the Sky Lounge while waiting for Kim & Doug to arrive. The rest of the evening would include dinner at the main dining room, a comedy show in the theater and maybe some music in one of the bars. We did have an early excursion planned the next day for our first port of call in Marseille, France. We would be riding through Provence to Avignon to visit the Pope’s Palace which is a UNESCO World Heritage site (scratch another one my list!). As more folks congregated in the Sky Lounge to view departure Kim & Doug arrived with another round of drinks. The blasts of the ship’s horn signaled that we were underway as we witnessed Barcelona recede into the background.

I hadn’t had lunch so I was excited to hit the dining room & indulge myself. We had opted for ‘anytime dining’ which doesn’t commit you to any set dining time. You simply show up when you want & get seated if there’s availability. If a table isn’t readily available they hand you a beeper so you can go somewhere & amuse yourself while you wait. We were seated immediately but my understanding is there’s like a 15 minute wait at most.

We didn’t know it yet but we were about to meet the people who would have a huge part in our absolute enjoyment of Celebrity’s fine dining options.

David, our head waiter had a personality as vibrant as his resume. Hailing from the Philippines, he is a master of many trades and a true entertainer at heart. With a past that includes stints as a movie actor, band singer, ship navigator, and food truck operator, he brings a unique flair to your dining table. His infectious humor & repitoire of songs kept us laughing throughout our meals. He runs his ‘battalion’ like a fine tuned engine having 29 years with Celebrity under his belt. Whether he’s recommending the perfect dish ‘for the table’, sharing a hilarious anecdote or explaining what it was like to be unemployed for 2 years during the pandemic (he sold Philippino comfort food from his truck), David’s charm and quick wit made every meal an unforgettable adventure. He was our hands-down favorite. So much so, that Don went to extremes to ensure we were seated in his section for every dinner. After an excellent dinner we waddled out to procure seating in the theater. Tonight’s opening performance was a comedy show with an Autralian comedian who also had quite a resume and kept us laughing. His show tonight was for more general audiences but he came back for an “adults only” late show a few nights later that we also caught.

We only missed 2 shows from the 10 days we were there and looked forward to the stellar offerings they had each night. The ensemble cast they had onboard were excellent singers & dancers who also were good sports when participating in the various activities that took place all over the ship. The cruise director, Drew seemed everpresent and actually came up and spoke with us on 2 separate occassions while we were waiting for shows to begin & the activites director, Nacho seemed to be the hardest working guy on the ship as he was always running one activity or another. There was no lack of entertainment opportunities on the Equinox. At night almost every lounge and bar had some type of live music from bands to combos to orchestras or a DJ was hosting things like poolside dance parties or the extremely popular ( and hilarious to observe) ‘silent disco’.

When we finally pulled the covers up the old salt occupying the pillow next to me, who normally suffers from terrible insomnia, was soon asleep like a baby with a lullaby. The open veranda door had the sounds of a ship sliding throug the sea wafting through our room and I imagined he was dreaming of being 18 years old in a crowded rack in the belly of an aircraft carrier.

Our second day in Barcelona dawned drippy as rain showers met us when we left the amazing breakfast spread at our hotel. We decided to forgo the hop/on & off bus because it would take too long to get to the stop for our first destination. We had early, timed entrance tickets for today. Our conscierge called a cab for us & we set off into the early morning traffic.

When you do your research for the must-see destinations in Barcelona the name Gaudi comes up often. Antoni Guadi is celebrated for his revolutionary contributions to architecture through his development of a unique organic style that integrates elements from nature, religion and Catalan culture. We saw several of his buildings and parks on our tour yesterday but the basilica La Sagrada Familia is probably the most well known. It is imposing as it towers over the city and is yet uncompleted with construction ongoing following Gaudi’s orginal concepts. By the time we arrived a torrential downpour was in progress as we negotiated our way throught the security checks and picked up our audiotour equipment. The tour starts by explaining the 3 outside facades that represent different stages in the life of Christ.

Each facade is starkly different with the Nativity Facade almost reminding you of sand sculptures you’ve seen at Virgina Beach competitions while the Passion Facade is stark and bare, almost skeletal. When you enter, the vastness of the space is striking as you notice how the light plays through the stained glass. The supporting structures & columns evoke a forest.

While we were in attendance there was a period when the organ was playing which contributed to the overall atmosphere and although my Catholic school upbringing ushered me into a significant number of churches, I was duly impressed. You’ve never seen anything like this place. Antoni Gaudi’s crypt is located one level below and contains multiple chapels. We moved through the areas as we followed along with the audiotour, our jaws slack and mouths agape while we tried to absorb it all. When we finally felt able to move on we visited the next door museum that showed in detail how the new construction was being carried out and how the old construction was done utilizing Gaudi’s original plans. We even watched a short film covering the history of the construction before & after Gaudi’s involvment (spoiler: he wasn’t the original architect.)

Our next destination was about a 1.5 mile walk from the church and despite the iffy nature of the weather we opted to take a chance so we headed out to find the Museu de la Musica. This stop was our homage to Doug Palmer our friend, cinamatographer, adventure buddy, all around nice guy & classically trained musician. Among the numerous instruments he can play is the classical Spanish guitar. This museum showcases a collection of world wide musical instruments spanning from ancient civilizations to modern times and features one of the world’s finest guitar collections. It was located a little bit outside of the more touristy sections of town and we decided to look for a spot to have some lunch before tackling the exhibits. Across from the entrance in the auditorium complex was a cafe that seemed to fit the bill. Interestingly, this was the first encounter we had since arriving in Barcelona where no one initially spoke English so we got to test our limited Spanish. A successful lunch ensued and then we entered the museum, donned our equipment and proceeded to explore the exhibits as the audiotour led us through a numbered course.

This turned out to be an interesting afternoon as the tour explained the instruments we were seeing and with the more unusual ones it included significant historical context. At the end of the exhibits was a room that had various instruments where you could have a hands on experience so we were treated to an all too brief impromptu performance from Doug.

Since we had been pounding the pavement all day and were far from our hotel Don set out and hailed us a cab. When we returned to the lobby we opted to cash in some free drink tickets we had received as a check-in perk so we made our way to the bar. At this point we discovered that many of our fellow cruisers had arrived since it was the evening before emarkation & the place was packed!

As the time for our reservation at the unique La Selva Steakhouse was approaching, we left for our rooms to refresh before jumping in our cab. La Selva was recommended by one of our desk clerks and it didn’t disappoint. It has a crazy jungle theme with areas where seats are suspended like swings but it has a delectable selection of aged beef and we very much enjoyed the experience.

We were so full upon being deposited back to Hotel Indigo that we couldn’t even imagine repacking that night. I think we did plop ourselves in an alcove of the lobby to continue our reveling a little longer. Fortunately, our check in time for embarkation was 12:00 p.m. the next day which left us time in the morning for reorganizing & tagging our baggage after we enjoyed more sumptuous selections from the breakfast buffet. Ugh! We haven’t even gotten on the ship yet and I fear I’ve already gained weight. Depite my ability to sleep well under most any circumstances the jet lag is kicking my ass tonight (the miles of walking, the wine and the food may also be a contributing factor to my state of exhaustion but one must carry on). Tomorrw we board the Celebrity Equinox and shove off for the French Riviera.

1958 was the year I was born and when I saw this sign above my head as I sat at the tiny table of the crammed eatery near my departure gate at Dulles International Airport, I knew it was going to be a good trip. You see, Don suggested we take a cruise to celebrate my 67th birthday this year but before you get all emotional about what a great guy he is (don’t get me wrong, he is a great guy) understand that this is his way of rationalizing an expensive undertaking so he could relive his 1972 Mediterranean Cruise on the USS JFK. As soon as the words, “Why don’t we take a Mediterranean cruise for your birthday next year?” left his mouth our 16 day tour of Spain, France & the Italian Riveria was already booked. A few days later I was telling my friend Kim about how this all went down and asked if she and her husband, Doug might consider coming along. This is why we were now awaiting their arrival so we could board the plane to Barcelona, Spain. Practically a full year of planning had gone into our itinerary with Kim & I partnering on excursion selections, accomodations, transportation and shipboard ammenities. I think the many years we spent working together gave us the ability to fully trust the others choices with a high level of confidence. We were not wrong.

Our arrival in Barcelona came after a smooth flight. We wouldn’t be able to check into our accomodations at the Hotel Indigo Plaza Espana for several hours yet but we were able to drop off our luggage & down some coffee before we set out on a hop on/hop off bus tour overview of the city. We planned 2 days in Barcelona before embarking on our cruise and to be honest, it wasn’t enough time.

The weather forecast for Barcelona called for showers. The bus tickets included earphones that you plugged into jacks on the bus which enabled you to listen to an audiotour of the sights you were passing by. The sound quality was awful, some of the jacks didn’t work, some of our earphone sets didn’t work (Don had one side & I had the other) but it was enough for you to get the gist of the prerecorded scripts. We hopped off on the famous Passeig de Gracia so we could walk by all the high end shops and get a better look at the spectacular Modernisme architecture.

The bus has 2 different routes: red & blue which lead you to different parts of the city. As we hopped back on the rain started in earnest and although there is a retracting roof on the double decker bus the heavy rains caused the seats nearest the open air windows to flood. The rain also caused a severe slow down of the already heavy traffic so the bus took an inordinately long amount of time to progress even a little. This is not to say there wasn’t entertainment. A large group that seemed to be an Italian family boarded the bus. They quickly began an argument with the bus driver about the route they were on. The stop they wanted had already been passed and they would have to negotiate a whole route to be able to get back to their stop. They were all smoking on the bus ( a no-no) with some opting for weed and some opting for tobacco. At this point our driver, who must have already been frustrated by the Italians, traffic & weather found a car parked in his bus stop. He proceeds to jump off the bus and begin screaming and searching the nearby shops for the driver of the car. This causes the Italians to vociferiously cheer him on from the underwater seats which they are now inhabiting. Once the driver returns and we are again under way, the Italians decide they would rather stand up on the upper deck than sit in the sodden seats which necessitates a lot of trips upstairs by the tour guide to enforce the “you must remain seated rule”. By the time the bus arrives at our hotel stop, it’s check in time for us!

As jet lag begins to hit pretty hard we opt to honor the Spanish tradition of la siesta. A tapas selection and cocktails would follow later that evening.

As a tribute to how delicious and visually appealing the tapas we ordered was we decided not to take any food porn photos. (Actually, we were starving by this time and didn’t stop for air let alone pictures. Even our resident cinematographer, Doug Palmer, didn’t get a shot in.) Rest assured that I did take a furlough from my no alchohol lifestyle so that I could appreciate the excellent wines produced by the various regions we visited during this trip. In fact, I would say that I appreciated them much more since abstaining for the past 3 years. Tomorrow would be a busy day as we had booked entrance to La Sagrada Familia & planned a visit to Museu de la Musica.

It was 50 yrs ago that a group of boys started an adventure. Today they are old men and the adventure continues. . .

In 1972 the Vietnam War saw three U. S. Allies leave South Vietnam. Australia, New Zealand & Thailand which had sent military contingents, withdrew them. Negotiators in Paris were trying to reach a peace agreement and come up with a withdrawal strategy for American forces. When the North Vietnamese launched the Easter offensive, it lead to a large increase in airstrikes and a resumption of bomb attacks. Back home, the largest University protests became violent.

Servicemen then did not receive the “Thank you for your service” accolades that are commonplace today. They were called, “baby killers” & spat on when in uniform at the airport. When the war ended there was no “Welcome Home” for them. Despite what was going on above deck and back home it was the responsibility of R-Division to maintain the U. S. S. John F. Kennedy. Over three football fields in length with over 5000 men on board (no women on ships yet) the aircraft carrier was a floating city that just happened to have an airport on top of it. The men of R-Division were also the fire department and the first responders for damage control.

From 1972 -`1975 some sailors were discharged, some stayed in the Navy & some made the ultimate sacrifice. Those who came home built lives and went on with them. Many years later, like 35 years later, two of the old R-Divison guys, Dan Baker & John Kress found each other and met in Western New York State where John still lives. Like lighting a fuse, a spark was created that traveled through a wire or in this case a wireless device. The internet was full of sites where people could try and reclaim relationships: classmates, neighborhoods, organizations and . . veterans. My husband, who loves living in the past, was trolling one of these sites when he received a message. It was from Dan Baker who was asking if he was the Don Russo who served on The JFK. Further investigation lead to finding 2 more shipmates and The Original Five, as they’re now known, were planning a reunion. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the reunion was going to be held at Rancho Russo. So it seemed I was going to be spending the July 4th holiday of 2010 with a bunch of strangers.

And strange they were! One guy needed to be picked up at the airport because when he got off the plane he realized his drivers license was expired so he couldn’t rent a car. He called the house asking if Don could rent one for him. Uh, HARD NO from me. I stared at my husband and asked just what kind of deadbeats he was bringing to my home? (Duffey, who I most affectionately refer to as “The Admiral” for his ability to throw his weight around and secure us free rail passes at Great Meadow, free tours, museum visits and various other jaunts, was not a deadbeat after all.) During this first reunion the guys visited all the monuments in Washington, D. C. & we had a hot but spectacular July 4th at Gread Meadow which included an air show, skydiving & awesome fireworks.

After the reunion the guys stayed in touch by creating a Facebook page that they would use to live chat with each other once a week. They talked about the good old days and how they didn’t appreciate those times and lamented that they wished they could visit the ship just once more. They found a few more R-Divison guys but a lot of other Kennedy veterans found them. Through the magic of Facebook, Don’s Kennedy page had about 3500 members. It was the largest Kennedy Veteran’s site to exist at that time. It became so big & crowded that they guys retreated to a separate private Facebook page for just former R-Divison members from 1972-1976. The volume of engagement that the Kennedy page attracted caught the attention of a group called the Rhode Island Kennedy Project. This organization was raising money to make a floating museum out of the Kennedy to be located in Rhode Island.

The Kennedy had been decommissioned in 2007 and was now sitting in mothballs up at the Philadelphia Naval Yard. One night Don received a phone call from a man named Frank who was looking to gain support from Kennedy veterans for the Rhode Island Project. There was a fundraising event planned that was to be attended by a lot of big wigs. Congressmen, astronauts, admirals and the like were to receive tours of the Kennedy docked in Philly so the vision for the project could be spread. Frank needed the veterans on board, so to speak. He offered Don a position on the board of directors. Don accepted with one condition . . .

December 2010 on the waterfront in Philly was cold. The guys spent 2 days touring the ship. Unfortunately, the below decks areas that the R-Division shops occupied were off limits for security reasons. Boy, if they could only get down to the old haunts! The shipyard workers were also onboard during these tours. They silently observed as all the important guests were being led around with these 5 ordinary guys. The Yard Birds, as these workers are referred to, came up to Don and inquired exactly who they were since they were obviously not dignitaries. Don explained that they were just regular “squids” who fell into this opportunity quite accidentally & he filled in the story details. He finished the tale by saying, “And what we wouldn’t give to see our old stations again!” The Yard Birds responded with, “Tell us where you want to go.” This is how the Original Five had their dreams come true.

It was decided that the following summer there would be another reunion. This time in a Pennsylvania state park. It would be a camping trip. It would be fun!

Turns out it would be the hottest week of that summer with temperatures in the low 100s. We were tent camping but least you think we didn’t have amenities I can assure you we were pretty well equipped. Duffey came rolling in with a trailer that held an entire camp kitchen complete with a suckling pig for roasting and the apparatus to do so. Don had brought our long, event canopy & John had a generator that powered 2 fans at either end of the canopy. There was a lake in which my soul sista Amy (Johns wife), my son Darren & I immersed ourselves from morning until dinner time in an attempt at not melting away. We picked up 2 new R-Divison guys, Mike & Donovan (Mike worked for Hershey Candy at the time and brought an entire cooler full of chocolates much to my delight). I took a lot of guff for my “glamping” tent as the guys couldn’t believe my set up.

Then Don hit the motherlode. He found the guy who was assigned to mentor him when he first arrived on board the Kennedy. Reno Righetti (not a made up gangster name) grew up not far from us in The Bronx. He & Don had never met prior to the Navy but they became fast friends and Don had been searching for him for a while. We had our own reunion with Reno & his wife, Donna in Atlantic City, NJ and when Don told him all about the R-Divison reunions he was all in for the next one.

In 2012 Boston, MA was the site of the next, and biggest reunion thus far. The Duffeys live on a lakefront property outside of Boston & they had big plans. There was swimming & fishing at the lake and trips on their “party barge”. Duffey was working for the National Parks Service at the time and had arranged for us to have a tour of the USS Constituiton. “Old Ironsides” as it’s known, is the oldest commisioned war ship that’s still afloat. There’s a museum on site and we had access to that as well. They day also included a luncheon at the Union Oyster House which has been in operation since 1826.

A few more R-Division alumni attended Boston as the guys kept contacting more & more shipmates. People came from all over the country. New additions were Rick “Bear” Morgan, Wayne Horton & George Mousakis.The Boston Reunion was also the first time all the wives were together. Amy & I were the OG wives and I am the only wife to attend every single reunion. The Women of R-Division Ladies Auxilliary was founded.

Western Pennsylvania would host the 2014 reunion as Cyndi & Dan Baker stepped up to the plate and found us a lovely rental house. This was to be a smaller reunion. The house had 2 big porches, a backyard, plenty of rooms and even an apartment upstairs that Don, Damian & I occupied that weekend. The house backed up to a walking trail that ran alongside a creek. We made use of this peaceful path. Amy & Damian even took up litter patrol and cleaned up any wayward trash along the way. This was the first reunion missing one of the orginal 5 as the Duffeys couln’t make it to Pennsylvania that year.

Then in 2015 it was all hands on deck as we joined the Shipwide Reunion held in Norfolk, VA. This reunion was open to all the Kennedy veterans and the Rhode Island Kennedy Project was hosting a reception for its members to provide a status update. There was a dinner banquet and various other events throughout the weekend. Some of the other Kennedy veterans groups that our guys knew were there as well. Cyndi, Amy, Damian & I stole off to the beach for an afternoon. Frank, who was the president of the Rhode Island Project, thought it would be a good idea to put Don in charge of procuring the alchohol for the reception. I was always very suspect of Franks decision making after that. Needless to say, much alcohol was consumed and after breaking off from the big groups the boys went late into the night in the lobby sitting areas.

The Kresses took the task for planning the 2016 reunion which entailed us renting several cabins at Letchworth State Park in western New York. Renowned as the Grand Canyon of the east, this parks main feature is a gorge which is cut by the Genesee River. There are 2 waterfalls as well as all the structures built by the Civilian Conservation Corps. Unfortunately we were visiting during a severe drought which held the falls to mere trickles but the scenery was spectacular anyway. There was a trail near our cabin which I would take to the lower falls in the morning for a great meditation spot. Early there were no other visitors for a little while so it was exremely peaceful while communing with nature. We took turns cooking meals and held ‘arts & crafts’ sessions where the boys engraved their names on an axe which is one of the symbols for the hull technicians on board the aircraft carrier. The girls and the kids made bookmarks with washi tape provided by Amy and we had a memorable girls night of card playing at Camp Kress. We mad an ice cream run for a local favorite, “Perry’s Ice Cream” and I swooned over their flavor named, “LemonChillo”. Nigths were spent by the fireside.

The new R-Divison guys now wanted their chance to see the Kennedy while it was still docked in Philly. It only made sense to host the 2018 reunion in the City of Brotherly Love. On a prior visit Don & I had scouted out a location that could meet our needs. It had to have an area where the guys could congregate & just hang out and chat. We also had to be able to hold a ceremony that had become integral to the reunions. A flag that was retired from service was burned as a tribute to the R-Division members who had passed away since the last reunion. (Most of R-Divison were exposed to numerous service related toxins: asbestos & fire fighting foam being at the top of the list.) We found a hotel that had an expansive back patio that overlooked the river. We could set up canopies and the manager even provided for us to be able to burn our flags. Once again, we attracted some more new members who hadn’t attended prior reunions. It was a rousinig success! The guys went off to the Navy Yard and myself and some of the girls hit the next door casino. WIN/WIN! A local restaurant even sent a van to shuttle us over to them so no one had to worry about alchohol consumption.

The 2020 plans were interrupted by the Covid-19 pandemic and by 2022 the guys were needing a get together. The Rhode Island Project lost their bid for possession of the Kennedy and at this time it is slated to be towed to Texas and disassembled for scrap. It currently remains in Philly.

Time for a return to Rancho Russo, where it all began. Although smaller by comparison to the Philly reunion, once again the guys unearthed another newly found brother who joined the festivities. The folks at the Udvar-Hazy Center of the National Air & Space Museum provided a wonderful guided tour for our guys and while the weather wasn’t ideal the rain didn’t damper any spirits.

The Bakers had been noticeably absent from the past 3 reunions and they offered to host the 2023 reunion and move it west to Kentucky. This would enable more of the heartland & western dwelling members an easier commute as everything to date had been held more to the east. Several Airbnb locations were acquired and a hotel wasn’t too far away. Williamstown, just a short deviation off the Bourbon Trail, was the chosen site. This affair would turn out to be the reunion all others will be judged by as the Bakers pulled out all stops and literally got the whole town involved.

Behind the scenes the Bakers had acquired a list of sponsers who provided us with food & beverages, tickets to the Ark Encounter (full-sized Noahs Ark anchors this theme park), a parade en route to a tour of & reception at Patriots Landing ( a showroom for the Veteran-staffed workshop producing fine crafted wood products. All made in America by this nonprofit organization that supports a host of veterans causes.) We also paid our respects at the newest veterans memorial in honor of Gold Star families. All of this occured while still allowing for plenty of socializing, visits to Buffalo Trace distillery, attending a music festival and patronizing the local shops & restaurants. Did I mention the local news coverage? TV & newspaper both came out and interviewed the guys who turned out to be quite the local celebrities that weekend. Everyone in the town new about them and they were finally welcomed home with open arms.

The Brandwine Valley area of Pennsylvania, specifically near Valley Forge will be the site of the next reunion. Admiral Duffey will no doubt be using his influence to make some more notable memories for the men of R-Division. Frankly, I think they’ll be happy just to sit around together no matter where that occurs. They keep a close watch on the Kennedy and are planning to try to be there when she takes that last voyage to Texas. That will be a sad day for them. I am keeper of the artifacts from the reunions. There’s a scrapbook, many photos, a slide show I update, books, newspapers & other ephemera that I’ve colected for them. They’ll always have those memories and the new ones they create each time they meet. Fair winds & following seas to you.

for Margaret

Shout outs to these fine folks:

The Old Stone Wall Airbnb in Willliamstown, KY & the best hosts on the planet, Susan & Steve Amorese

Kentucky Times Airbnb in Williamstown, KY

Patriots Landing – shop at http://operationhonor.org/collections/all

The Ark Encounter

7 Hills Church

I had an ambitious itinerary for today. We needed to maximize our 1 full day in the park by hitting 4 major areas. We arrived at the trailhead for Endless Wall at 8:30 am. I took the ranger seriously when she told me yesterday to get there before 9:00 am and take the trail and head in the opposite direction for the best views before the crowds reach them. We weren’t disappointed at all.

We discovered that the power was still out in the park from the terrible storm yesterday. It also made for a muddy trail which was also pretty rocky in parts. There are access points for rock climbing along some of the “social” (unofficial) trails.

This hike from point to point is about 3 miles with the Diamond Point overlook being about midway.

There is dense forest between the lookout points and it’s thick with wild rhododendrons that are just starting to bud and bloom. It must be spectacular when it’s all in full bloom.

Needless to say the weather today was a far cry from the heat, humidity and storms of yesterday. It was sunny, about 70 degrees and expected to dip into the 40s tonight. Upon returning to our car we set the coordinates for our next stop which would be the Grandview section. This area is one of the deepest areas of the park. It is much cooler as there is a ‘natural air conditioner’ where a crack in the rock emits cool air.

Damian did a little rock climbing by himself when we explored the sandstone formations along the Tunnel Trail which has areas of flagstone stairways. We took a lunch break and then headed to the Thurmond historical area which is an honest to goodness ghost town. A railroad boom town that hit its heyday in the early 1900s then started to decline with the great depression and when coal fired steam engines were replaced by diesel its fate was sealed. The old depot from 1902 is now restored and houses the Visitors Center. It was here we again encountered the ranger we met yesterday at the Canyon Rim. She’s the one who posed the question, “What’s the difference between a gorge and a canyon?” The answer is there is no difference. They are one and the same. Obviously the rangers get bored and take to antagonizing park patrons.

At one point many years ago 15 passenger trains a day ran through Thurmond. Surprisingly, it is still an active Amtrak stop along The Cardinal line that runs from Penn Station in NYC to Chicago. According to our ranger friend this is the warmest part of the park.

Our day would end at Sandstone Falls. The New River is one of our finest stretches of whitewater where the elevation drops 750 ft in 50 miles. At this point we witnessed a huge flock of birds swimming on and diving into the river. Although we couldn’t tell what type of birds they were it was a sight to behold.

This park is enormous, full of adventures and absolutely free! There are no entrance nor admission charges. If you get a chance come visit wild, wonderful WV and experience this national treasure.

On June 18 Don turns 67 years old. He looks pretty good dontcha think? Since his birthday is so close to Father’s Day I try to plan extra special things. This year it’s a trip to the newest U. S. national park which is New River Gorge National Park in lovely West by God stand up & smile when you say it Virginia.

The gorge area is comprised of three rivers: the New River and the Bluestone & Gauley Rivers. Coal mining and the railroad brought industry and recreational usage of this area followed in the 20th century. Today world class whitewater, rock climbing, fishing, hiking, biking & camping are among the many outdoor activities that bring folks here.

The bridge is 876 ft high and on Bridge Day traffic is restricted to pedestrians only and many bungee jump from it. Today I considered jumping off the bridge sans bungee when after a harrowing 4 hour ride through the Midland trail (WV Rt 60) we arrived at the Canyon Rim Visitors Center just in time for a thunderstorm that was so strong it completely knocked out the power. Relegated to standing in the dark my park ranger whipped out her cell phone to continue marking my routes for tomorrows hikes and adventures. Undaunted by the lighter rain that followed the squall we set out to drive the one way road that leads down into the canyon. One advantage of the rain was it kept most sane people off the road as downed trees and flooding were a distinct possibility on the descent. We were rewarded with some misty mountain vistas.

If you are less adventurous there’s a walkway that affords some nice bridge and river views as well.

We met the goals we had for that section of the park so we headed back over the crazy, windy road towards where we were staying outside of the town of Lewisburg. This is the area that is home to the famous Greenbrier resort which houses the bunker that Congress members were to be taken to in the event of an attack during the Cold War. Lewisburg is a picturesque small town with a fairly busy historic district. We strolled around a bit scoping out possibilities for dining tomorrow for Don’s birthday.

Tomorrow we will rise early and traipse back over to the gorge for some more exploring then return to our little cabin for some birthday cake.

Question from our park ranger: What’s the difference between a gorge and a canyon? I’ll tell you in the next post.

Currently two states have staffing agency wage caps in place. They are Massachusetts and Minnesota. These caps were in place prior to the pandemic and the pay rates were raised in response to the increased pandemic staffing needs. There are currently no federal laws proposed however, there have been several associations including the American Health Care Association that have penned letters requesting federal agencies intervene to “protect consumers from anti-competitive and unfair practices”. Connecticut enacted fines designed to prohibit profiteering during emergencies. Pennsylvania is the only other state so far to have a solid plan to move forward with legislation aimed at staffing agencies due to the spearheading of Rep. Timothy Bonner. Oregon, Illinois, Kansas & Kentucky are also currently considering legislation. (Remember that when it’s time to sign those travel contracts.)

Let’s be fair. Agencies are pocketing somewhere in the neighborhood of 40% of those fees they are collecting and I know of no person that begrudges bedside nurses their current wages. My informal survey of friends and family enthusiastically claim, “It’s not enough.” So, what to do going forward so nurses get paid what they have deserved all along while allowing for American free-market enterprise to continue to be the shining example of economic policy? I have a few suggestions:

Hold A Draft: New graduate nurses enter into a pool with their seeding determined by a complex algorithm that includes their GPA, school attended, honors & awards. Hospitals, in turn, are assigned draft pick selections based on such determinants as their Magnet status, benefit & salary packages, orientation programs & level of tuition assistance. (By the way, if Dollywood ever opens a hospital I am there!) Not for Profits go in the first pool to pick and For Profits go in the last pool.

Unrestricted Free Agency: Nurses may be eligible after a minimum of 6 years of bedside nursing experience. A nurse must file for free agency within 10 days of the next Covid-19 variant surge and submit that stupid portfolio they’ve amassed for performance evaluations. (Let’s make it good for something.) All interested hospitals have 10 days to make their offers and only For Profits have a salary cap.

Privateering: Cruise ships hired by and full of nurses pull into ports of call on specified days. Hospital administrators meet at the arrivals terminal bearing treasure chests full of gold, silver & jewels and carrying casks of rum. The lawyers the nurses have hired review all contract submissions while the nurses party. Nurses consider attorney recommendations and sign accordingly after they have sobered up. All billable hours and cruise line expenses are covered by the hospitals.

As these practices have already been proven to be successful at recruiting and retaining NFL & NBA players & entertainment moguls so why reinvent the wheel? Surely those highly educated, technically adept, angels of mercy merit the same type of treatment and compensation. In fact, let’s do away with staffing agencies and set up a system akin to player agents. Let’s call them angel agents. (Show me the morphine!) I offer my services as representative and negotiator for any of my travel nursing friends seeking assignments (for a small fee, it’s the American way).

I am no stranger to pain. We have developed an intimate relationship over the years. From fingers closed in moving cab doors to natural childbirth, bone breaks requiring more hardware to be installed than my kitchen cabinets and ruptured, gangrenous appendix removals I could always be assured of one thing – whatever the pain was at the time, it would end. Enter a different pain. An unrelenting pain that accompanied me through my waking moments and invaded my dreams at night. A pain that became something I could rely on through the years that slowly over time took away more and more of the things that bring me enjoyment.

Say hello to osteoarthritis of the hip. I have had hip pain since my late 30s. Numerous years ago I described to my then primary care doctor what I was experiencing and he took an x-ray, told me I had some ‘mild’ arthritic changes in my hip, poked and prodded me then figured out I had some serious bursitis. Home I went on non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medication (Motrin). It helped and I stopped taking them. It’s important to note that I didn’t say, “It went away”. I said, “It helped”.

A medical literature search (yes, I can still do that) revealed that chronic pain, “negatively impacts multiple aspects of patient health, including sleep, cognitive processes and brain function, mood/mental health, cardiovascular health, sexual function, and overall quality of life. Furthermore, chronic pain has the capacity to become increasingly complex in its pathophysiology, and thus potentially more difficult to treat over time.” (If you want the reference citation I’ll be happy to provide you with it.) As time went on I began to have more consistent episodes with hip pain. A planned trip to China for 2 weeks which would entail a lot of walking precipitated me to visit my doctor and get a cortisone shot. This also worked well and got me through China. Soon I became more dependent on Naproxen and would take it regularly until my stomach started to bother me and then I would quit for a couple of weeks until the pain outvoted the health of my gastric mucosa. Years passed and I went from being able to easily knock out over 5 miles a day to barely being able to do 2 without a significant limp. By this time I had a new primary care doctor who did another x-ray and said, “Why don’t you try physical therapy?” He recommended some local PTs and I settled on a solo practitioner instead of a large group. I had a consult that lasted about 2 hours which included a thorough history and physical assessment at the end of which I was told, “I can’t help you. You need a hip replacement.”

Off I go for a consult with a very well known and highly recommended joint replacement “clinic” in Northern Virginia. They do (another) x-ray, the resident does a brief history and less than 5 minute physical. The attending physician comes in and tells me I have osteoarthritis of my hip and presents me with treatment options which include a more involved pain injection (no thanks) but he feels I am not taking a high enough dose of non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medication and suggests a new dosage. They say a hip replacement is in my future but probably at around age 70 (average age they tell me is 72). “How will I know when?” I ask. “You’ll know” he responds and off I go with a new Rx.

Fast forward another 2 years. Covid hits and a major part of our activity becomes walking on our mountain, gardening, landscaping and hitting our pool in the summer. All of these things become more painful and I am hobbled to some degree depending on the day. After a while, it no longer depends on the day. The Naproxen is once again bugging my gut, my flexibility is almost non-existent and my lower back plagues me with sciatica. I transition from a very physically active job to a sedentary one. I return to my primary care doctor for an overdue annual exam and he inquires about my hip. I tell him that I am frustrated beyond belief as I enjoy activities that I find increasingly hard to perform. I tell him I’m going to search for a female orthopedic doctor because maybe my issues are related to the supporting structures of my back and pelvis. He offers a suggestion to see a surgeon who specializes in hip & knee replacements. My doctor knows a fair number of doctors who have seen this guy all with good results. Sure, I’m game.

I arrive at the office and the first thing they do is take an x-ray. (Marie Curie was exposed to less radiation than I.) The surgeon enters and I tell him my tale. He shows me my x-ray (I am now pretty good at reading them) and tells me that all of my woes are related to my obvious hip arthritis which is now practically bone on bone in one area. He states that since I have been dealing with this for quite some time and have employed several of the key mitigation strategies used to treat the disorder we could continue with those treatments. He advises me that this will continue to worsen. We have a discussion about quality of life and my concerns that maybe I’m ‘too young” for hip replacement surgery. He tells me he recently performed a total hip replacement on a 35 yr old and average life of the replacement parts is about 30 years. I inquire about more specifics of the procedure itself. He says it would be done as a same day surgery, I would be up and walking after about an hour and would do my physical therapy at home. Further discussion ensues as I delve more specifically into materials, technique, risk, benefits, . . I won’t bore you with those details. At the end when I am satisfied he tells me that this is elective surgery and if I decide this is the route I want to take to let him know. I express that I wish to mull it over and discuss with my husband.

I decide to have a total hip replacement. My doctor’s office is a well oiled machine. I speak with his assistant who forwards my information to their scheduling person who puts me in touch with their finance department who calls my insurance company to verify my coverage. I receive an email from the total joint replacement specialist at the hospital I plan to have my surgery in and she gives me a power point presentation since mandatory classes have been suspended due to Covid. I have a virtual pre-op with the PA who will be assisting on my surgery and get all my medications prescribed and preauthorized.

Don picks up a cane, walker and elevated toilet seat from our local hospice. We know they lend this type of equipment because when Darren had his knee done our local hospital informed us of this valuable service. I have to have a Covid-19 test before surgery. I inquire if I can decline this since I am fully vaccinated and am informed that I can decline but they will decline to perform my surgery. I suggest they have their infectious disease department review the most recent studies. I wind up having 3 Covid tests: 1 for my pre op, 1 because I get sick right before my surgery and want to make sure I don’t have Covid and another before my rescheduled surgery.

I am given instructions to shower for 3 consecutive days before my surgery with a special cleanser and wear clean pajamas and have clean bed linens. I am given 3 Gatorade type beverages which I must consume the evening before and the morning of my surgery to keep me hydrated and provide some calories. I arrive the morning of my operation and get prepped for surgery. The Same Day Surgery staff at HCA Stone Springs Hospital are wonderful and I feel as comfortable as I can considering I am about to have my leg cut off and reattached in a short period of time. (This is how my son, Matthew, continuously refers to my surgery which results in my mind actually picturing this.)

I speak with the anesthesiologist and inform him that I am fine with a spinal but don’t want to hear any tools being used (to cut off my leg). He assures me that I won’t. Don decides he doesn’t want to have to sit around with a mask on and decides he will wait in the car until I am in recovery but then can’t go through with that plan and stays by my side until they wheel me into the OR.

I am wheeled into the OR at noon. I do recall sitting up for my spinal and having a conversation with the person who is supporting me about my tattoo. I have recollections about describing how I got it in Bangkok and then I remember no more until I heard, “Mrs. Russo, wake up.”

As I am being wheeled into the recovery area I see a clock on the wall and it says, 1:20 pm. How the hell do they do all that in about an hour? I had an anterior approach hip arthroplasty (technical name). In this procedure there is less muscle trauma as the muscles aren’t cut but instead are separated along the natural plane (with retractors by guys the size of lumberjacks), this results in less pain, quicker mobility, less risk of hip dislocation, less limping and shorter hospital stays.

• The surgeon makes a cut in front of your hip joint.
• The surgeon separates your muscles to see your hip joint.
• The surgeon removes the upper part of your femur (thigh bone) and the damaged cartilage and bone from your pelvis.
• The surgeon replaces your acetabulum (hip socket) and the head, neck, and part of the shaft of your femur (thigh bone) with an artificial joint. In my case the hip bone socket was lined with a plastic type cap, the ball joint was ceramic and the shaft that goes into the thigh bone is titanium.
• The surgeon uses X-ray & fluoroscopy to make sure the joint is in the right place.
• The surgeon or an assistant will close up the incision. My sutures were all internal and I had a waterproof occlusive dressing on for 2 weeks.

After the first hour while they insured I wasn’t going to die I was visited by the physical therapist who got me out of bed and walking with a walker. She walked me down the hall to a free-standing flight of stairs and taught me how to go up and down with the walker and explained the difference of doing it with a cane. When she was finished, the occupational therapist came in and demonstrated some assistive devices I was being sent home with to make it easier for me to function: Grabbers for picking up things like clothes & shoes and a different type for getting things out of cupboards, a very cool yet very simple device to help me put my socks on and a very sturdy, long shoe horn. My last visit was with the total joint replacement specialist RN who went over all the exercises I’d be doing at home for my physical therapy. The spinal has now worn off and I can pee. I am in my car and headed home at 4:00 pm.

I am on a drug regimen of 7 different medications. When I am finished with the antibiotics I start probiotics to help my gut recover. I stop the narcotic after 4 days because it is wreaking havoc with my gastrointestinal tract & lots of ice and the other drugs are seeming to manage my pain well. Interesting point: my insurance company would not approve 60 oxycodone and would only give me 45 tablets of which I used about 11. Gotta love the opioid epidemic! I get up about every hour during the day and walk 10 laps in my hallway & do my exercises twice daily. I seem to be sleeping OK despite having to sleep on my back. Before surgery I invested in one of those U-shaped body pillows and my sister sent me a knee pillow and these keep me pretty comfortable. The first 2 days I use a walker then switch to a cane. After the first week I am only using the cane outdoors or at night to get up to pee.

When I return for my 2 week post op check up I am averaging about 3000 steps/day. If I go too much over that my lower leg swells up. I am able to put my own socks on & tie my own shoes. (It’s a big deal after total hip! Shout out to all the 6 yr olds, it’s not as easy as you’d think!) My Physicians Assistant says I’m what they call “A good patient”. My ‘hippie support group’ declares me a rock star. I know that being in pretty good health & shape pre op gave me a ‘leg up’ (pun intended).

Don was ever by my side for 3 weeks. I know he was not thrilled when I got rid of the cane after a few days at home, started gardening (no bending or squatting), went down 13 stairs at home (oh wait, he didn’t know about that), insisted I could put on my own socks and shoes and wanted to go on ever increasing walks. True to form he has always supported me in all my decisions, even if he doesn’t necessarily agree with them. My other constant companion who insisted on lying on me continuously for the first 2 weeks post op and provided me with much comfort was one of my cats. (Not you, Wicked, you hateful bitch.) My boy Ozzy never left my side. In fact, he insisted on lying on my affected leg.

I am now 3 1/2 weeks post op. I can walk a little over 3 miles/day and my pace is improving at a steady rate. My biggest problems now are remembering that I can’t do certain things yet like cross my legs, kick my operated leg backwards or bend over/squat for prolonged periods. The constant pain I had in my hip is gone (my only discomfort is surgery related now) and my sciatica and lower back pain has disappeared. (I can only assume it was related to compensating for my bad hip.) I don’t know if my results are typical. I can only tell you my truth. My next check up is at 6 weeks post op and I’ll have (you guessed it!) another x-ray to see that everything is where & how it should be and at that point I should be cleared for the hot tub & pool! Down the road I’m thinking about learning to ride a bicycle again. (Do you ever forget? It’s been like 40 years.) I also have a date for a hike with my son, Eric. I told him to pick one with a great overview at the finish that makes me look like a badass but that’s not too hard. Happy trails to you!

Capital Weather Gang say it ain’t so, you seem to predict that we will get more snow! The only acceptable snow is Christmas snow. Immediately around the holidays it lends an air of festivity, gives Santa’s sled something to glide upon and provides a clean & pristine environment to foster those glad tidings. After that, it’s a total nuisance.

Snow needs to be moved so you can safely walk & drive. I can’t even imagine how I would feel if I actually had to move any of it (one of the few benefits of living in an all male household). Once you’re over the age of 10 the exuberance of sledding for 1 hour is outweighed by the work of having to pull off wet boots, socks, snow pants, jackets, scarves, mittens and hats then trudge with them down to the pegs on the wall above the woodstove so you can defrost them enough to be able to put them in the dryer. (Don’t think for a minute that my boys didn’t have to do this themselves as soon as they could safely negotiate the stairs with an armload of sopping outerwear.) They soon were able to do the cost/benefit analysis themselves which significantly decreased the in & out snow play sessions.

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When I was a kid living in a walk up tenement in The Bronx we would strip off the soaking snowsuits when they were so caked that you could no longer move. Then we would drape them over the old metal steam radiators that were under the stairway. We would sit on the windowsill waiting for those and our boots to dry up a bit. We would do that 2 or 3 times a day before returning home to our apartments. Rest assured my mother never inquired what the hell I was doing out in the snow for 6 hours and why I wasn’t frozen to death.

Then when my 4 boys were young we’d have to pull them, 2 to a sled down the street to the school where the ‘good’ sledding hill was located. The 2 older boys would perform death defying snow aerobatics (is that even a word?) while Don & I took turns pushing down then dragging up the sled containing the 2 little ones. (My back now hurts just thinking about this.) The day would come to it’s inevitable end when we would have to traipse the gang to the urgent care to have one of the elders sutured, casted or splinted. Fun times. It’s bad when you walk into Kaiser Permanente and the triage nurse greets you by saying, “Who is it this time Mrs. Russo?”

Of course before we could even get there we would have to scrape the snow & ice off the car then dig it out of the snowbank the plow left it in while staunching the blood flow (or immobilizing the body part) prior to transport of said snow day victim.

The moment the temperature outside dips below 50 degrees I have permanently chapped lips & skin so dry it would make an onion cry . This persists until the temps return to at least 70 for a solid week. I’ve tried every lip balm, ointment, stick, gloss, etc. and now swear by Dr. Bronner’s organic peppermint lip balm which I buy by the case when I can find it. (Not an endorsement but hey, Dr. Bronner, throw me a bone whydoncha?) These problems are only compounded by using the woodstove for supplemental heat as my poor heat pump has been in overdrive for the past couple of weeks.

As an attempt to relieve some of the dryness I am constantly refreshing the filtered water tank on my German engineered industrial air purifier/humidifier which I infuse with an assortment of essential oil blends to help bolster my mood or increase my energy or ward off evil depending on the situation. Lavender for sleep, peppermint for energy, frankincense & myrrh when I need me some religion (honestly, Madame Curie did less chemistry than I do).

Who can ignore the infernal darkness that sets in at 4:30 p.m. every day making me ready for bed by 7:00 p.m.? All the candle lighting hygge bullshit aside, this messes with my mojo the most. My therapy for this is not a light box. It’s carbs. Lots of them. Coldness and darkness makes me seek warmth which I find in my oven while baking delicious and delectable goodies as my 6 lb weight gain will support. The most light I’m getting is the sparks of static electricity I create from wearing all this merino wool!

But it’s all going to be O.K. Spring is coming. Lent is here and my liver is rejoicing as I begin my 40 day alcohol fast. I decided to renew it this year since last year I didn’t even entertain the thought. Don & I are now fully vaccinated against the ‘Rona so now I am once again thinking of travel. I’m planning an extended beach vacation this summer and creating packing lists and on line browsing for cabana wear brings me joy. (It’s not the same as wine but will have to do.) I long for the days I can grill poolside in my bathing suit again. Who am I kidding? You all know I don’t go near the grill. Until we thaw, stay safe and warm. (Texas friends, you’re in my prayers.)