MY TURN column
The Courier-Post
November 6, 2008
My wife and I moved from the farms and pinelands of rural Shamong to historic Haddonfield 25 years ago. We didn't know a soul. To get acquainted, we joined the Newcomers Club, a social organization that held monthly get-togethers including a townwide scavenger hunt and an annual holiday progressive dinner.
An offshoot activity was a gourmet group. Four or five couples would meet at members' homes for dinner every six weeks or so, with each couple bringing a part of the meal. The hosts selected the evening's cuisine and supplied the entree and beverages.
Our present dinner group has been intact since 1988, but we jokingly refer to ourselves as the "anything-but-gourmet group." While we have often ventured into the world of exotic and cultural epicurean fare, more often we can be found gathering for a chili cook-off, a hotdog at a Phillies game or a picnic on the beach.
During our two decades together, we have dined at Philadelphia's Restaurant School, invited a sommelier to an in-home wine tasting, and traveled to Gettysburg National Battlefield for a ranger-led guided tour and local food. The "gourmet" fathers and sons have camped on the Eastern Shore of Maryland and along the Delaware River, testing their outdoor campfire cooking skills. The ladies have trekked to New York City for Broadway shows, with mandatory Great White Way lunches and dinners.
Last month's gathering proved to be something extra special, however, as the group met at a member's second home in the Poconos, amid perfect blu- sky weather and a visual symphony of brilliant fall foliage. We hiked, canoed, photographed the scenery and read books on the deck overlooking the lake before sitting down to an evening of cocktails, conversation and a family-style meal.
The 12 of us sat around the table reminiscing first about our children, 15 in all. They had grown-up together, played sports or engaged in school activities with one another and were now all living on their own. We told stories about how we all first met, about our early careers and how it felt to be middle-aged empty-nesters heading into the next phase of our lives.
Here were a physician, an engineer, two lawyers, a biologist, a psychologist and chairs full of educators getting all mushy and sentimental. And we didn't care one bit.
What our little dinner group has really been dishing out all these years is a large helping of friendship, support and love. We've developed a special synergy, an easiness with being open with one another, borne of nights, days and weekends spent in the company of what has become an extended family. There have been informal walks around town, drop-in visits to each other's homes and phone calls just to keep in touch.
Together we've celebrated joyful moments: graduations, weddings, athletic events and the impending birth of a first grandchild. And we've supported each other in times of need: the death of a spouse, the loss of a job, a heart attack and surgery. Even the guys have been known to share unguarded occasions, when true feelings are expressed and souls are bared.
"Good interpersonal relationships act as a buffer against stress," says Micah Sadigh, an associate professor of psychology at Cedar Crest College in Allentown, Pa. "Knowing you have people who support you keeps you healthy, mentally and physically. You need friends you can talk to without being judged or criticized," he says.
After dinner on our Poconos trip, the group moved to the rustic living room to sit around the stone fireplace for dessert and wine. In the background, James Taylor, Boz Scaggs and Motown music played, and someone said the experience was starting to remind her of the movie "The Big Chill."
After a rousing word game resembling charades, the evening's conversation turned to thoughts of thankfulness. We all agreed that we were fortunate to live in a wonderful small town, to have found work we regard as rewarding, but especially to have met one another. Maybe it was the crisp mountain air or the day spent outside doing physical activity, but sleep that night was deep and renewing.
On Sunday morning, following a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon, we all packed up, said our goodbyes and prepared for a three-hour ride through the Delaware Water Gap on the way back to South Jersey.
As our car rolled past cornfields browning in the late fall sun, my wife and I were mostly silent. I kept thinking about the weekend's events, our relationship with our friends and the neighborhood where we live. For some reason, Thornton Wilder's play "Our Town" crept into my thoughts. Maybe it was the theme of people appreciating life while they are still living it.
At home, I Googled "The Big Chill," and discovered the movie's tagline was "In a cold world, you need your friends to keep you warm." When I showed my wife, we both looked at each other and just smiled.
