Saturday, March 6, 2010
Of all the wonderful groups who Do Good Things at the Soldiers Home, few do it with the gusto of the Tacoma chapter of the Harley Owners Group. Every spring, these awesome HOGs (their Web site is here) roar out on their bikes and put on a fun-filled afternoon of games, prizes and good company.
It’s called Reno Day. Residents get a ribbon of free tickets, then "pay" to play dozens of games of skill and chance—a casino and a carnival combined. If they win—and I didn’t see anyone who didn’t win—they earn wooden nickels, which they amass and trade in for Harley gear and/or a-couple-steps-up-from-regular-Bingo prizes.
It’s been packed both years I’ve gone. This time, I helped out at the refreshment bar in the game room with two regular VFW Auxiliary volunteers, Doreen and Sandy. Doreen had gotten up at 6 to make dozens of her trademark ham/turkey/cheese sandwiches, which we plated with a pickle while simultaneously trying to keep six kinds of soda flowing.
But the real fun was on the game floor.
Vern Schiffer was one of the first residents to arrive, and one of the first to cash in pocketfuls of wooden nickels. He said he wanted to get shirts for his family, and before long, he had two bags stuffed with Harley goodies. "You’re done with your Christmas shopping," I told him. But he wasn’t. He still had more nickels.
One of the Home’s Recreation staffers had asked Gary to try the craps table, because no one else was playing. He rolled a 5 first, then a 10, and haggled his way to two nickels since, technically, he’d rolled two 5s. Like I said, the HOGs want people to win. They didn’t haggle too hard.
David was doing pretty well at the blackjack table, but he needed a bathroom break, so he asked me to sit in for him. I won quite a few hands in a row (legitimately!) but thought I’d blown it when the dealer turned a 21. He had an 8 and a 3, and drew a queen.
"22," he said. "I busted."
"Actually, it’s 21," I said.
"No. It’s 22," he said, pretty convincingly. Then I noticed his eyes. And I got it. He did not want to win.
Jackpot!
David was thrilled with my stack o’ chips, which was actually his stack o’ chips, especially since each one was worth a wooden nickel. Harley T-shirts cost just 10.
Ray McDade came in late, having forgotten it was Reno Day until he got to the empty Bingo room. It didn’t take him long to catch up, though, mostly because he was sitting at the same no-losers-allowed blackjack table as David.
After 90 minutes, the games were packed up and the HOGs were gathered in the center of Chilson Hall for their annual Reno Day photo. Some residents headed outside to the parking lot because for them, the real fun was just beginning.
I remembered this part from last year and, amazingly, remembered my video camera. I got outside just in time to see Gary and Ray right on the rim of the Harley procession-- bikes were lining up, circling and leaving, and it really was a loud, and touching, spectacle for the senses. When I turned my camera off, I looked up to the path leading to the pond, and there sat Mike. Something about those Harleys and their HOGs brings out the "boy" in those wonderful men. And that's worth much more than a wooden nickel.
Of all the wonderful groups who Do Good Things at the Soldiers Home, few do it with the gusto of the Tacoma chapter of the Harley Owners Group. Every spring, these awesome HOGs (their Web site is here) roar out on their bikes and put on a fun-filled afternoon of games, prizes and good company.
It’s called Reno Day. Residents get a ribbon of free tickets, then "pay" to play dozens of games of skill and chance—a casino and a carnival combined. If they win—and I didn’t see anyone who didn’t win—they earn wooden nickels, which they amass and trade in for Harley gear and/or a-couple-steps-up-from-regular-Bingo prizes.
It’s been packed both years I’ve gone. This time, I helped out at the refreshment bar in the game room with two regular VFW Auxiliary volunteers, Doreen and Sandy. Doreen had gotten up at 6 to make dozens of her trademark ham/turkey/cheese sandwiches, which we plated with a pickle while simultaneously trying to keep six kinds of soda flowing.
But the real fun was on the game floor.
Vern Schiffer was one of the first residents to arrive, and one of the first to cash in pocketfuls of wooden nickels. He said he wanted to get shirts for his family, and before long, he had two bags stuffed with Harley goodies. "You’re done with your Christmas shopping," I told him. But he wasn’t. He still had more nickels.
One of the Home’s Recreation staffers had asked Gary to try the craps table, because no one else was playing. He rolled a 5 first, then a 10, and haggled his way to two nickels since, technically, he’d rolled two 5s. Like I said, the HOGs want people to win. They didn’t haggle too hard.
David was doing pretty well at the blackjack table, but he needed a bathroom break, so he asked me to sit in for him. I won quite a few hands in a row (legitimately!) but thought I’d blown it when the dealer turned a 21. He had an 8 and a 3, and drew a queen.
"22," he said. "I busted."
"Actually, it’s 21," I said.
"No. It’s 22," he said, pretty convincingly. Then I noticed his eyes. And I got it. He did not want to win.
Jackpot!
David was thrilled with my stack o’ chips, which was actually his stack o’ chips, especially since each one was worth a wooden nickel. Harley T-shirts cost just 10.
Ray McDade came in late, having forgotten it was Reno Day until he got to the empty Bingo room. It didn’t take him long to catch up, though, mostly because he was sitting at the same no-losers-allowed blackjack table as David.
After 90 minutes, the games were packed up and the HOGs were gathered in the center of Chilson Hall for their annual Reno Day photo. Some residents headed outside to the parking lot because for them, the real fun was just beginning.
I remembered this part from last year and, amazingly, remembered my video camera. I got outside just in time to see Gary and Ray right on the rim of the Harley procession-- bikes were lining up, circling and leaving, and it really was a loud, and touching, spectacle for the senses. When I turned my camera off, I looked up to the path leading to the pond, and there sat Mike. Something about those Harleys and their HOGs brings out the "boy" in those wonderful men. And that's worth much more than a wooden nickel.