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This month marks the eighteenth anniversary of the first time I came to the Museum as a volunteer to do some useful work. It was a new experience for me, and I found it to be very enjoyable. The project of the day was to find and gather the scattered parts of the big Skinner Unaflow Hospital engine that were being overgrown by weeds in the general area where Dar and Bev Jewell's house is presently located.

David Denny was in charge of the job, and I got busy digging through the weeds for the almost-buried treasures. Shortly after I had started to work, Leonard Scholl arrived and drafted another volunteer and me to go down to Steam Engine Row and block up the yellow fuel tank trailer so it would be sitting level. We pitched in and got the thing shored up solidly.

While we were at it, lunch in the Club building was announced, and I enjoyed my first of many of Trudy Mueller's hot dog and bean lunches. It was on that occasion that I met some of the other members and decided that these were my kind of people, and that I would like to become a part of the scene.

Well, that was the beginning, and in the years since then I have never regretted for a moment making that decision. Over the years I have had the great good fortune to become acquainted with a lot of truly wonderful people, who, incidentally, I have always considered to be the best thing about the Museum.

I have been able to contribute my experience and knowledge to a lot of the improvements that have been made, and I found a niche for myself on Steam Engine Row. That has been the focus of most of my activity, but there are a number of others in which I have been privileged to participate.

The years have gone by at what seems to be an accelerating pace, and I find myself becoming more and more subject to the inexorable forces of the passage of time. One gets older, and one hopes, wiser, over the years, but physical strength and endurance decline as well, and all the old wounds come back to bedevil "The Golden Years".

I cannot put in the hours that used to be so easy for me, nor can I do the work needed to get the job done. I become very tired, even here at home, just working in my shop, so I have decided that I'd better pay attention to what my body is telling me, and retire from active participation at the Museum.

I'll not abandon the place, but in future I will more likely be a visitor than a participant. There is no such critter as "the indispensable man". The cemeteries are full of them, and the world just keeps on turning. To all of you who have become very dear friends over the years, my heartfelt thanks for your friendship, your help, your good advice, your generosity, and for your loyal support to the Museum. Without you, there would be a big empty place in my life.

In closing, I'd like to share with you a poem that I wrote back in 1992. It seems to me that it represents the kind of spirit that I have found in all of you. I call it "The Gift of Knowledge". I hope you enjoy it.

The Gift of Knowledge
Chuck Goebel
Each day's a gift to cherish;
A time to work and share,
A time for love, a time for thoughts
for those for whom we care.
Our days on earth are numbered,
but not our choices here,
So do your best with every hour,
and make a mark that's clear.
A wiser man than I once said that knowledge should be shared;
For if it's not, it may be lost,
As if no one had cared.
If, in your life, you've learned a lot
That helped you learn and grow,
Go out and find a friend in need,
And teach the things you know.
The things you teach another man
Can help him on his way,
And he in turn will share this gift,
And brighten, thus, the day.
Don't be afraid to lend a hand
When someone needs assistance.
You'll make a friend and win a smile;
A reward for your persistence.
God gave us eyes with which to see,
A brain with which to think,
And arms and hands to do our work,
And a voice with which to speak.
So use your gifts and share yourself;
You never will regret it.
You'll make new friends and learn new things,
And the world will not forget it.

Auf Wiedersehen dear friends! Keep in touch.
Chuck Goebel, "Jack of all Trades, Steam Engine Row"

   

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