Today was a special day.
The last time Dad came to visit me, I was still living in Woodbridge. It was during the frightening days of the D.C. sniper in 2002, when even stopping for gas or visiting a craft store felt unsettling. That was 24 years ago.
With the recent passing of his wife, I knew being alone in the house he had built for her would be difficult. Every room held memories. Every familiar routine would remind him of what had changed. I invited him to spend the day with me in Front Royal, and thankfully, he accepted.
I wanted him to see not just where I live, but the community that has become such a big part of my life.
Our first stop was Unity Lodge.
Dad has been fascinated with Freemasonry lately, especially after watching a documentary about Oak Island. I hadn’t heard about it, so I joked that he could give the masons a presentation on what he knew about it. The best we could do was teach him how to make baked beans.
I showed him the lodge room, the portraits of Masonic presidents, paintings of George Washington, and our large drawing of King Solomon’s Temple hanging in the social hall. I showed him the bible in the center of the room, and that any Mason of any faith could have their own bible on the altar as well if the King James Version wasn’t what they went by. He also got to see what remained of our charter and Bible after an old lodge fire, several historic Master’s certificates, and a Civil War-era apron.
As we were looking around, one of our Past Masters arrived to prepare sausage, peppers, and onions for lunch. Before we left, he kindly handed Dad a few Masonic lapel pins and a challenge coin. It was a simple act of kindness that meant a great deal.
From there, we headed to the Senior Center.
I introduced Dad to one of the regulars, who immediately seemed to click with him and showed him how to give a fist bump. Before I knew it, they were deep in conversation. Apparently, Dad is quite the talker.
While they visited, I wandered through the craft room to check in on the seniors making Christmas tree decorations and caught up with several familiar faces.
When lunch was served, I brought Dad a plate while I helped serve everyone else. Some of the seniors filled him in on the work I’d done with the Board of Supervisors last year to improve the condition of the center’s floor. After most everyone had left, he had the opportunity to meet the director and spend some time talking with her as well.
Next came Samuels Public Library.
Dad wanted to see “what all the hubbub was about.”
As luck would have it, I spotted my neighbor’s car outside. We found her just inside after she’d attended a potholder-making workshop, and she was happy to meet Dad. We wandered through the Tiny Art Show, where we found my watermelon artwork on display. Dad pulled out his phone to show me a picture of my entry from last year – the Purple People Eater.
While we were there, Dad received a message that he needed to sign paperwork for a tombstone. He wasn’t sure how to handle it on his phone, so we stopped by the Adult Reference Desk. The library staff walked him through printing the document, signing it, scanning it back in, and emailing the completed copy so he could forward it to the monument company.
It was one of those everyday moments that perfectly demonstrates what modern libraries really do.
As we were leaving, I introduced Dad to the president of the Library Board of Trustees in the bookstore. A few moments later, the library director arrived and offered to show him the Makerspace.
We toured the room together, looking at the laser engravers, 3D printers, sewing equipment, and other creative tools. I showed him one of the laser-cut puzzles from a workshop I’d taught. We also went over the Memory Lab, where he became especially interested in the equipment used to digitize old tapes and preserve family history.
One thing Dad kept coming back to was just how large the library is and how many services it provides.
I told him something I often find myself saying: many people still think libraries are just buildings full of books. They have no idea how much more they have become.
Our next stop was Stone Branch Center for the Arts.
I finally got to show Dad my interactive telephone exhibit. We dialed different extensions, listened to recordings, talked with the center’s director for a while, and learned that someone wanted to donate a crank phone to the Warren Heritage Society. A little later, we moved on.
Then we headed over to Ivy Lodge at the Warren Heritage Society.
I pointed out the original built-in bookshelves that still contain some of the old library collection from before the library moved out to the community center – prior to its current building. We spent time exploring exhibits about Avtex, the Fire Department, moonshining, the Remount Station, the Civil War, and other chapters of Warren County history.
Afterward, we headed back to the archives. The archivist invited Dad into the archives themselves. It is something very few visitors ever get to experience.
He saw where rare books, photographs, newspapers, and historical collections are preserved. He learned about Laura Virginia Hale and her incredible efforts to save Warren County’s history for future generations. He also saw the growing collection of Avtex artifacts that I’ve helped gather.
From there, we stopped by the Government Center.
I needed to speak with the Finance Director about the county’s ongoing review of replacement financial software for the aging AS/400 and Bright systems. Once the procurement process is complete, I’ll be able to learn more about whichever system they select.
While we were there, Dad got to see a little of what goes on behind the scenes in local government and met a few supervisors who happened to be coming and going.
Unfortunately, he also accidentally let slip the nickname he calls me, which one of the supervisors quickly picked up. I suspect I may have to live with that one now.
Our last stop was the Chamber of Commerce.
The director welcomed us, though it was mostly Dad who did the talking. He noticed the sign on her desk that read “Chaos Coordinator” and agreed it sounded appropriate considering everything life had thrown at him recently.
By this point, the constant getting in and out of the car had caught up with him.
We headed back to my house.
Before leaving, he handed me a small piece of artwork that may have been from my childhood, along with a carton of almond milk my sister had left behind at his house. Then he gave me a hug and started the drive home.
As I reflected on the day, I realized something.
Dad certainly saw a lot of Front Royal.
But more than that, he saw my life.
He saw the people who have become friends. The organizations I volunteer with. The places where I spend my time. The relationships that connect one part of this community to another.
It’s easy to think of Front Royal as just a collection of buildings, such as the library, the Senior Center, the Masonic Lodge, the Ivy Lodge, the art gallery, the archives, the museum, and the Government Center.
But that’s not what makes this town special.
The real strength of Front Royal is the people.
Throughout the day, conversations flowed from one stop to the next. Someone mentioned an old telephone they wanted to donate to the Heritage Society. Someone else talked about bringing library programs back to the Senior Center. Ideas, introductions, and opportunities naturally carried from one organization to another.
That’s how communities grow.
They grow because people know one another.
They grow because conversations continue after you leave the room.
And they grow because someone is willing to connect the dots.
Hopefully Dad can come back again soon.
Next time, maybe we’ll spend less time racing from place to place and more time simply enjoying each stop.
Then again…
After seeing my day firsthand, he now knows that’s usually how I operate.
And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
