FROM THIS PUBLICAN'S PERCH
By Chris Poh, Publisher of American Public House Review
The Indian Rock Inn after a devastating fire
Another Measure of Success
There is this underlying belief in humankind that a parting is nothing more than a prelude to that next point of gathering. There will always be another chance to make merry, to make a difference or to make amends. But there are those goodbyes and physical embraces that foreshadow that final intersection of those parallel journeys that so often enrich our lives.
Looking back, I did not have any inclination to think that the second Sunday of this past March might be one of those days. There seemed to be some hope of reprieve from the unremitting cold that had gripped the Northeast. And with that came the return of friends and customers that had been absent from my bar for quite some time. If anything, I locked up that evening believing that the business going forward would be rewardingly brisk on many fronts. But within 48 hours a fire at the Indian Rock Inn would greatly alter that possibility.
Whether or not this historic establishment shall once again fully attend to the needs of those who follow the path of the Delaware through this portion of land originally deeded to William Penn will be determined by those who preside over the legal and economic affairs in such matters. As to the human costs, many of those accounts might remain unsettled. And as it is with all tragedy and loss, we are reminded about our own vulnerability and the very temporary status of our time here. So while we are able, it would be wise to heed to that poetic voice that advises us to live well, laugh often, and love much!
He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much;
Who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children;
Who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
Who has never lacked appreciation of Earth's beauty or failed to express it;
Who has left the world better than he found it,
Whether an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul;
Who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had;
Whose life was an inspiration;
Whose memory a benediction.
Bessie Stanley Anderson 1904