Scott's View - Norfolk, Virginia

Norfolk is one of my favorite stories from all of our travels.

For the second time, we were dodging a Hurricane (the first was Andrew in 1992). Dennis had been hovering off the east coast for days, and was finally headed toward land as we made our way into Norfolk.

Norfolk itself is a simple, blue collar seaport. Functional, but not glamorous. If you're ever there, though, be sure to stop at Doumar's barbecue. Great sandwiches and fast, friendly service.

After an early dinner at Doumar's, we headed over to Harbor Park, only to find that we were nearly an hour late. A rainout from earlier in the season had been rescheduled to a double-header that night, beginning at 6:00 instead of 7:00. Lesson learned: always phone ahead. Of greater concern, though, was the steady rain that had begun to fall, and seemed unlikely to stop.

Harbor Park is a terrific stadium. It was built right on Chesapeake Bay, and from our seats in the upper deck we could see the ships going by over the right-field wall. Unfortunately, the rain washed out the game after only a few innings.

Most teams have a no-refund policy regarding rainouts, instead offering only tickets to a later game. But since we would have no use for those, we figured it couldn't hurt to ask for our money back. When we got to the window, we were told that since we were from out of town they'd make an exception, but we'd have to mail the tickets from home as proof. We agreed, but by the time I got home I had decided that that was a rather silly thing do over a couple of eight-dollar tickets. Instead, I mailed the tickets back, along with a letter instructing them to give the refund money to local charities of their choice.

I figured that would be the end of it. But a couple of days later I got a phone call from the Tides' Director of Ticket Operations. "I just wanted to let you know how much your letter meant to all of us here," he said. "The GM is writing you a letter of appreciation." I tried to convince him that it was really nothing, but he said, "We've been passing the letter around the office all morning, and everybody thinks it's just great."

Sure enough, there was a package in my mailbox a week later. The General Manager of a Triple-A Baseball Team had actually taken the time to sit down and personally write me a letter (which you can find on the previous page) to thank me for a $16 donation to Catfish Hunter's ALS charities.

The lesson I learned here is that even a small kindness can go a long way. Although I have no immediate plans to return to Norfolk, I'd like to go back sometime soon just to shake Mr. Rosenfield's hand.