Mike Abdalla

Rotary International is a wonderful and well-thought of organization. It is made up of many kind and generous people from all over the world. Their kind deeds are known and recognized by all. Well, maybe not all their deeds.

I came to Arnold In the fall of 1983 with my two sons, ages 13 and 10. I was a single mother with a lot more guts than brains. I wanted to raise my sons in a more rural type area, and Arnold seemed the perfect place. Employment was my first priority; at first I could only get odd jobs, such as carrying lumber to carpenters on construction jobs and sweeping up after them, and occasionally doing banquets and weddings with Dennis Russo, a local chef. When he opened a restaurant at Bret Harte Center in Murphys, I worked there on Friday and Saturday nights as a waitress.

Finally I received a call from Jeff Yarnell at Meadowmont Inn to come in for an interview and was hired. Not long after starting to work there, I was asked if I wanted to wait on Rotary on Wednesday nights. The good news was that it meant I had a job every Wednesday night, even when it was slow in the dining room. As the newest hire I was the first one to be sent home on slow nights. The down-side was that on busy nights I could make more tips in the dining room. Rotary had a set gratuity in the cost of their dinner. I weighed the guaranteed income against an occasional jackpot in the dining room. I chose Rotary.

I waited on the group for almost a year. My responsibilities were to serve them salad, dinner, dessert, water, coffee, tea, etc., so I thought. I soon realized that I also had to guard their podium, bell, flag, and banner against theft from other clubs. If another club stole any of these items, our club would have to pay a steep fine or fee to get them back.

They had a lot of rules back then, like no women allowed. The gentlemen would gather in the bar for cocktails before dinner. They would take their cocktails with them to the dining room, as they were not allowed to order drinks during the meeting. They were fined if they excused themselves to go to the restroom and came back with a cocktail. They were fined for any misdeeds that occurred during the meetings. I only heard about these after the meeting; I was not allowed to be in the room during the meeting.

When I first started waiting on them I was surprised to be asked by one of the older gentlemen in a rather gruff voice if I was a grouch. I assured him that I wasn’t, he patted my hand and said “Good girl. Some are.” Probably the oldest Rotarian there wanted to know if it was possible to get a cup of hot tea immediately after dinner and I let him know that I could take care of that. From the fist night I started clearing the dinner plates from his spot and set down his hot tea before picking up his plate. There were 20 to 30 Rotarians in the Arnold club at that time. What can I say? They were men, i.e. creatures of habit. They sat in the same seats every week, wanted the same beverages and condiments with each meal. They wanted my service to be as habitual as they were, and so it was done.

The second week I tried to follow the routine as best I could from the week before. After they left, I was clearing the table of the last of the water glasses and the coffee cups. There, under the older gentleman’s tea cup was a very neatly folded dollar bill. I looked for him to thank him, but he was gone.

The next week there was a dollar under his cup; the one next to him and one across the table from him. I was pleased and surprised at their generosity and thanked them for it.

As with all groups, the Rotarians had their share of rounders. I was approached by five such members early one evening wanting to help me understand the rules. They explained that it was against the rule to order or pay for a cocktail once they were in the dining room, but if for some reason I should all on my own deliver one to them when I picked up the dessert plates, what could they do but drink it? They received their drinks and presented their argument that they had not ordered them nor paid for them. I was called as a witness to testify that this was indeed the truth. They were not fined. There were five more one dollar bills discreetly tucked in the debris on the table at the end of the evening. Each week the number of one dollar bills left for me increased until there was one left by almost every Rotarian attending that week’s meeting. The constant creativity of this whole group of very diverse gentlemen never ceased to surprise and amuse me.

After about a year I met and fell in love with a rounder of my own in the person of David Johnston from Bear Valley. I made the decision to leave Meadowmont and work with David. The last time I waited on the Rotarians they called me into their meeting at one point to thank me for my service. They gave me a wooden box with a wheel of Sonoma Jack Cheese and a bottle of wine in it. I told them it had been my pleasure to take care of them each week. They gave me a standing ovation; my face turned beet red, and I headed to the kitchen to wipe my tears away. When I went to clear the room there was one dollar bill sitting in the place of each Rotarian at the table.

Note: One can do a good deed with out even knowing it. With two adolescent boys to feed, the dollar bills from the Rotarians became known in our family as the milk and bread money. The Rotarians didn’t know it, but weekly they did a very special deed for my boys. I thank you one and all.

Always,

Beth Johnston

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Rotary District 5220 - Serving California's Central Valley and Mother Lode