Burial Detail for a Great Friend

As the last few forlorn notes of Taps echoed over Blandford Cemetery, I was taken back to the mid-70s when I was the driver for a number of burial details while serving with the 82^nd Airborne.  We would pile into a pair of cars and hustle to the burial sites that were literally all over southern North Carolina and Northern South Carolina, anywhere within about 200 miles of Fort Bragg.

For days prior to the funeral, we would practice the moves, the stations, the playing of the bugle, and the firing of a 21-gun salute.  It was one of those duties that all troops make with respect.  We never knew who the person was that we were going to provide the military pomp for, but I do remember one being a Naval Captain and a few other Army officers and NCOs.

At the time, it never really meant much more than providing such an honor to someone who had spent a good portion of their lives supporting the American cause.  So, Monday, as I stood in the midst of hundreds of tombstones at the very far reaches of Blandford Cemetery, those haunting last notes rang through the air as I am sure they have done at many of the hundreds of gravesites surrounding us.

But this time was different.  This time we were burying someone I considered a friend.  We stood, six of us pall bearers, looking over the casket draped with Old Glory at a fair group of family and friends standing to see the last ethereal moments with Samuel Walter George.

I knew him as Walter, the name most people probably knew him by, although I am sure father, grandfather, husband, and, to me, friend were also part of his naming.  He had always been a bigger-than-life kind of man during the 25-odd years I knew him.  Not just because of his stature, but because of the way he handled himself as a consummate professional.

Carrying my corner of his casket to its final resting place was a huge honor.  As a fellow veteran, and for someone I truly admired, taking those final steps with him in hand is the kind of memory that doesn’t wash out with time, as most do.

The thing that really hit home for me was during the funeral at Small’s Funeral Home, when they were speaking about his life and the things he was involved in.  During that moment, they read a passage about George having been in the Battle of the Bulge.

To many of us, me included, the Battle of the Bulge is just an old war movie.  While I remember that movie, I thought we tend to forget that there were actual people who were involved in the “real action,” so to speak.  In many ways, the bulge was the last battle of the German soldiers during World War II.  From that point on, the Germans were driven back into their final surrender.

I would never have known my friend was involved in such a heroic battle, had it not be listed in his obituary.  Strange how we can know people for such a long time, and not know those memorable parts of their past that have drifted away with time.  And so, with a very heavy heart, I just would like to say farewell to George, a soldier, a father, a grandfather, and a husband:  goodbye friend, until we meet again.

Roundabout Hullabaloo, or East meets North and South meets West

Call it morning driving through the sound and

In and out the valley - Roundabout, by Yes

What happens when stupidity overrides common sense is you end up installing road signs that say, Temple Ave North and Temple Avenue South, on the I-95 North and South exit ramps to Colonial Heights’ soon to be new whirligig, sorry, I mean roundabout.  During the planning meetings at the New and Improved Colonial Heights Courthouse, members of the Virginia Department of Transportation (VDOT) continuously stated just how important it would be to have proper signage.

One thing’s for sure, they have really big signs and as we all well now, size definitely matters.  But if you’re getting the basics wrong, then that really doesn’t help does it? A big green and white sign that won’t jibe with any GPS made can cause more problems and frustration than the current exit ramps.  Why, you ask?  Simply because someone at VDOT forgot the road numbering dogma that even is East-West and odd is North-South:  that’s why I-95 runs from Miami to Boston and I-64 runs from Virginia Beach to who-cares-where (past Lexington) out West.

You see, Temple Ave is state route 144 and even numbers ought to be East-West and not North-South.  Anyone who travels the road knows that when you get off I-95 at Temple Ave you can go right to Southpark Mall or East to the Boulevard, and the church formerly known as Colonial Heights Baptist Church. So why is the Temple Ave exit marked North and South?

The simple answer is that someone in the VDOT sign shop made a mistake and didn't follow the state's normal route numbering.  When they were building Temple Ave, it never really mattered too much whether it was north-south or east-west.  Common sense tells you that you can take Temple to get to Hopewell, or if in Hopewell you can take it to get to Colonial Heights.

The problem comes when, for whatever reason, an East-West road was named North-South.  I assume the sign was created by someone who doesn’t know anything about the specific road, i.e. Temple Avenue.  If you know the lay of the land, you know that Temple Ave, under any description, bisects I-95 which runs north and south.  See the bridge on South Temple Ave and you should get the point. The exit ramps, by rights, ought to be East-West matching the road number.  

Getting the direction wrong is not a good sign (pun intended) for what is happening with the whirli—excuse me, roundabout anyway.  It would seem that someone somewhere ought to have known that Temple Ave, so called SR 144, is an East-West thoroughfare and decidedly not north-south.  Were it actually North-South, one would assume that the road would run parallel to I-95, which is definitely oriented North-South, and if so ought to end in an odd digit.

In truth, no one from the Tri-Cities would get this wrong.  In fact, if they were like me, they would probably just laugh about it.  I did when I saw the first picture of the fake news naming of the route posted on FaceBook by Lloyd Goddard.  I know when I get off the Interstate that I can go right (East) to Southpark Mall or left (West) to Mi Rodeo.

Using the highway exit is how I know this.  It’s tautology, or learned behavior.  It’s common sense.

People new to the area, those who are merely trying to get dinner and gas, or those printing highway signs would have basically no idea which way to turn.  Unless of course, they have a GPS and some inkling of where they want to go by setting up a “point of interest” to get there.  Mi Rodeo is probably listed, but my wife Jackie and I know exactly where that restaurant is having frequented it literally on a weekly basis.

In truth, this is just a matter of ignorance versus common sense.  One expects that the people making the sign didn’t do their due diligence and decided that Temple must be north-south despite it being numbered 144.  It’s interesting to note that at one point the Colonial Heights sign on North I-95 near Petersburg was originally Colonial Height.  It stands to reason that the type size for that sign would not adjust for the “s” at the end of Height.  But such things are understandable, and in the end the sign was changed to Colonial Heights.

Of course, that sign was not nearly as uninformed as the one is for the I-95 Temple avenue exits.  Perhaps someone from VDOT, who understands how to use a compass, will figure out the problem with the Temple North-South exit ramps to an East-West running highway.  But then again, maybe not. Still, if they can’t get the signs right how does that play into the overall construction of the whirli-excuse me, roundabout, anyway?

And, while we are on the subject of the roundabout anyway, why not take a moment to name the park that will be the core of the road system.  Being that it will be the very first thing a new-to-the-area driver will encounter when entering the city, it seems to me that making it into some kind of flowery park is in order.  And, if you are going to do that, it makes sense to name it after the family that suffered the most to create the roundabout, and yes, to creating the stretch of highway formerly known as the Richmond-Petersburg Turnpike, too.

And who might that be, you ask? Well, I think Goddard Park has a nice ring to it.  Not everyone can have a Picadilly Circus, as they do in London.  On the other hand, a circus ain’t a circus without elephants and clowns.  And then you will have to decide whether you’re going to the North hemisphere or the South hemisphere?

Oh well, welcome to Colonial Heights where North meets South, even if it’s supposed to be East and West.