28 September 2007 by Published in: General musings 1 comment

I belong to a professional networking group that has been an excellent source of both new friends and good business referrals. Unlike many tip groups, our group follows a formal meeting agenda, has officers, and committee chairs, and the like. We meet for an hour and fifteen minutes each week. Each week, a member of the group has half an hour to present about his or her business, or some aspect of that business, so that other members can get a better understanding of what services are provided and how to refer business.

My turn to present was at Tuesday’s meeting. So, I gave a half hour talk on real property law in Ohio, and, in particular, how to convey title to real estate. As we have a realtor, a title agent, and a mortgage broker in our group, I figured it would be an excellent way to tie things up for a number of us. So, I spoke off the cuff for half an hour.

Then, that night, I gave my Stuart’s Ride talk to the Western Ohio Civil War Roundtable in Celina, OH. It’s only a two hour drive, and I had committed to the talk, so off we went. The problem is that until a cold front finally blew through yesterday, it’s been in the 90’s here, and it’s been hot. The air conditioning in the old building where the Roundtable meets, a branch campus of Wright State University, was not up to the task, and it was beastly hot in that room. Within five minutes of beginning to talk, I was drenched in sweat. The talk, counting Q&A, lasted about 75 minutes.

Then, the next day, I had to be in court in the morning for a client, and then I had to give yet another talk at lunch time. I am a member of the Columbus Bar Association. Several years ago, we formed our own Civil War Roundtable just for members of the CBA. Our programming year began on Wednesday, and, as a favor to the fellow who does the programming, I agreed to be the kick-off speaker, in part because I do tend to draw folks. So, I gave a talk on the pursuit of Lee’s army by Meade after Gettysburg that went about 75 minutes with the question and answer session at the end.

That made 180 minutes worth of addressing audiences by me in a span of about 30 hours. By the time I finished up with the lunch talk on Wednesday, my voice was about shot, as I had a big room with no amplification. Enough, already!

Thank heavens I get a break for a few weeks…..

Scridb filter


  1. n_michler
    Sat 29th Sep 2007 at 5:41 pm

    I know Celina, Ohio, quite well having grown up in St. Marys at the other end of Grand Lake. We were the Roughriders (early cavalry interest?), they the Bulldogs, our chief rivals in football, basketball, and girls. Grand Lake, which we always referred to as the “Grand Mudhole,” was built in the early 1840s as a reservoir for the Miami and Erie Canal by damming up one end of a swamp. When the water level was low, racing speed boats often impaled themselves on one of the hundreds of semi-petrified tree stumps that were left in place when the lake was filled. Maybe they still do. St. Marys started out as Girtystown, trading post of the notorious British loyalist/renegade Simon Girty. Anthony Wayne built one of his forts there during the campaign that climaxed at Fallen Timbers in 1794. The site of the fort (still a source of contention) was behind the house where I grew up on the bank of the St. Marys River. I know because I saw it one day. Early spring, after lots of rain, I walked back to the old Lutheran Cemetery and there it was. Where the ground had been trenched and disturbed the grass was three inches taller and five shades darker green. I could follow the line of the stockade walls, found the gate area with what was probably a blockhouse, could see foundations for structures inside. I think about half the fort had been strip-mined from a borrow pit adjacent to the cemetery. A team of archeologists searched for the fort about eight years ago. They were close, found period artifacts, but didn’t find the fort. I’ve always meant to clue them in, but either never got around to it or, perhaps, selfishly wanted to keep that special morning to myself. Anyway, Eric, thanks for dredging up the memory for me.

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