Showing posts with label DAV. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DAV. Show all posts

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Why Most Legions, VFWs, Eagles, Elks and Moose Lodges Struggle for Money

All across America there are Fraternal, Benevolent, Religious and Military organizations. They are known as VFW’s, American Legions, DAV’s, Am Vets, Elks, Eagles, Moose, Odd Fellows, Knights of Columbus, etc. Some are called posts; some are lodges, while others are aeries. All were chartered on great principles and each contribute immensely to the communities they serve.









Most are housed in humble, but prominent buildings. Many offer a bar area where members, and even the general public can sit, relax, and share friendship. About 65% offer some form of hot food service - generally popcorn, pizza and burgers; but on special occasions such as holidays, membership nights or installation nights they serve nice meals.

Joining one of these organizations is fairly easy. One talks to a member - gets an application and submits it the governing body who then verifies the information. If approved a small initiation fee is generally required, then there is some sort of introductory process or perhaps even a ritual. Then, each year a ‘nominal’ annual membership fee is required.

One would think these clubs with their membership base to draw upon and the great name recognition they have in the community would be rolling in dough; however most struggle financially. Why? Eba G’s believes for three reasons:

REASON NUMBER 1 – Two Many Cooks. Members of these clubs think of them as their ‘personal hangouts’. They walk into restricted areas like the kitchen, behind the bar and even in the storage rooms. Because it’s ‘their club’ they give advice and bark out orders or criticize employees: especially the bartenders, wait staffs, cooks, dishwashers etc. They tell employees what to do and what not to do. Working in one of these organizations is a nightmare for employees. They receive way too much unneeded guidance and conflicting directions which creates chaos and bedlam.

REASON NUMBER 2 – Scared Cows. Service clubs perpetuate ‘Scared Cows’ that prevent profits. Wednesday night Bingos, Pinnacle on Tuesday afternoons, Sheepshead & Cribbage on Thursdays and $1 tap beer. Imported wines, fancy craft beers wines and exotic cocktails are seldom found behind the bar.

REASON NUMBER 3 – Non-Professional Club Managers. The governing bodies of service clubs, which are elected, think of themselves as the de facto club owners. They typically hire under-qualified individuals who are willing to work for ridiculously low wages yet are called Club Managers. The Club Managers they hire have little - if any - real management or business experience. Most were just good bartenders or nice cooks with outgoing personalities. The vast majority are clueless on how to actually run a profitable bar operation. They’re given tremendous responsibilities but no real authority - everything they do must be approved by “The Board”.

With no management experience they seldom set or enforce - employee standards and don’t provide employees with any real training on core areas like: 1) customer service 2) menu sales 3) food preparation & presentation 4) cocktail mixing techniques or 5) bar courtesies. They have no idea how to develop a cash flow analysis or plan money making events or schedule entertainment programs. They continue to perpetuate revenue loosing and lackluster events so as not to ruffle the feathers of the ‘old timers’ – and they wind up maintaining the status quo.

Creating a profitable post, aerie or lodge is not hard.  Here is the formula:







1) Hire a professional manager - someone with knowledge and experience in food and beverage operations

2) Allow that person to manage - let him or her create profitable food & drink specials and 

3) Enforce conduct and dress standards for both club members and employees.

Great Club Managers pay for themselves in no time. They increase bar profits, generate food sales and boost membership. Plus they reduce those the discriminatory dividers such as: the WWII Vets don’t like the Korean Vets and the Vietnam Vets don’t like the Desert Storm Vets etc, etc, etc.

The one thing to remember is: If your lodge, post or aeries hires Floyd or Betty’s niece to be your Club or Bar Manager will continue to be hard pressed for cash and never build up membership.












Eba G is a bar profit analyst who helps small bars, local taverns and fraternal clubs generate big profits. Eba G shares great ideas visit Eba on face book at www.facebook.com/eba.gee.barprofits or link with Eba at www.linkedin.com/in/ebagee to increase your sales and enhance your profits?


Monday, March 23, 2015

Volunteer Duty at the National Cemetery

Kevin and I volunteered for Cemetery duty at our local National Cemetery here in Oklahoma on Memorial Day. Kevin is a member of our local American Legion and I am with the VFW post here in town.

We were lucky we drew a short shift from 3 PM to 7PM; however it turned out to be a longer time then I expected. Man, all I wanted to do was get the day over with and get back to the Post and have a few cold one. While at attention, I couldn’t help myself, I cheated and looked at my watch; I saw the time was 6:55 and thought my God just five more minutes and the cemetery gates will close and I am outta here. I felt just miserable in the sweltering heat wearing my full dress uniform.   

Just then a car pulled in the cemetery; it was an older model Cadillac – however it looked almost showroom new.  It drove in at a snail's pace and parked in front of the main building and an old lady got out.  God did she move slow; I thought she was paralyzed. She had a cane in one hand and a big sheaf of flowers in the other - about four or five bunches as best I could tell.

I couldn't help myself. An unwanted thought flashed through my mind and left a bitter taste: 'This old broad is probably going to spend an hour here and I'm ready to get back to the Post for a few beers.' Unfortunately, I volunteered for this duty and now it was my job was to escort or assist anyone coming into the cemetery – regardless of the time.

I knew Kevin would lock the 'In' gate promptly at 7PM and I was pretty sure, if I could hurry up this old biddy up we could make it to the Post by 7:30.  I broke attention and my hip made those God awful gritty noises as I took my first few steps - the pain shot up my spine.

I must have looked like a real military sight - a middle-aged man with a noticeable pot gut, limping and wearing a full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor crease about thirty minutes after arriving on duty at 3 in this terrible August heat.

I walked over to the old lady and she looked up at me with her old woman's squint.  'Ma'am, may I assist you in any way?'  She did not take long to answer.  'Yes, son - carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow these days.'  'My pleasure, ma'am.' I replied {it was a lie}.



She looked at me again and asked 'Son where were you stationed?'  'Vietnam, ma'am. Ground - pounder. '69 to '71.'  She looked at me closer. 'Wounded in action, I see. Well I'll try to be as quick as I can.'

I lied again, 'No hurry, ma'am.' Take your time. She smiled and said '
 Son, I'm 88-years-old and I can tell a lie from a long way off. So let's just get this done.’ As we walked she said ‘You know this might be the last time I ever make out here and can do this.  My name's Joanne Wieserman, and I've a few Marines I'd like to see one more time before I go just to say hello.'

'Yes, ma 'am - I am at your service.'

She headed for the World War I section and stopped at a grave stone. She pulled one of the flower bunches out of my arms and laid it on top of the stone. She murmured something I couldn't quite make out; however the name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC: France 1918.

She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section, again stopping at one stone. This time I saw a tear slowly track its way down her cheek. She then grabbed another bunch of flowers and put it on that stone; the name on the stone was Stephen X. Davidson, USMC, 1943.

She then went up a few rows, grabbed another bunch of flowers out of my arms and laid them on another stone. This time the stone read Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944.  At this stone she paused for a very long time and now several tears flowed.  Then she said 'Only two more, son, and then you will be done with me'.

I almost didn't say anything, but, somehow I managed to say 'Take your time Ma'am.'

She looked confused now and asked ' Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way. ’I pointed with my chin; 'That way, ma'am.'  'Oh!' she chuckled quietly. 'Son, me and old age aren’t too friendly.'

She then headed down the walkway I'd pointed at and she stopped at a couple of stones before she found the one she wanted. She grabbed another bunch of flowers from my arms placed it on the stone of Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968 where she just stood for about 5 minutes.  Then we walked to the last stone Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970.  She stood there murmuring words which I could not make out but I saw a noticeable stream of tears flow by this stone.

'OK, son, I'm finished. You can take me back to my car and you can go home now.'

‘Yes, ma'am. If I may ask ma'am, were those your kinfolk’?

She said ' Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley was my husband, Larry and Darrel were my sons. All killed in action, all were Marines.'

I walked with her as she slowly and painfully made her way back to her car.  As she drove off I waited for a polite distance to come between us - then I double-timed it over to Kevin who was waiting in the running car with the air conditioner on.  I jumped in and said "let’s go - get to the 'Out' gate ASAP... there is something we have to do.'

Kevin started to say something, but when he saw the look I gave him he broke the rules and sped through the cemetery as fast as he could down the service road.  Thankfully we made it to the “Out’ gate before Mrs.Wieserman.  Her car was just now approaching the rotunda.

'Kevin" I said” walk with me and stand next to me at the gatepost and for God’s sake stand at attention - just follow my lead".  We humped it across the drive and when the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began heading toward the gate, I yelled 'Ten Hut! - - - Present Haaaarms!'

I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye. Standing next to me in his dress uniform at attention his salute would have made any DI proud. 

Mrs. Wieserman drove through that gate that day with two old worn-out soldiers - members of a small town American Legion and VFW - giving her a special send-off - a send off she deserved and earned for the services she had rendered to her country and for knowing that duty, honor and sacrifices go far beyond the realm of what most people can phantom.

I’m not sure, but to this very day, I honestly believe I saw a salute returned from that old lady driving that Cadillac.


Forgive me if your computer screen just got blurry -- mine did to – it always does when I read this story.  I sincerely hope this story was worth sharing as because I firmly believe that we as a nation never forget those who have fallen before us. Feel free to do what you want with this story - delete it if you like; however my hope is you will take just a moment to share this great story with some friends or loved ones.  Eba Gee USAF - Retired {1968 - 1989} 

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Coins on a Gravestone. Anyone Ever Heard of This?

We in hospitality hear a lot.  Some fact, some fiction.  Some happy, some sad. Yesterday a friend sent me this post he received on Facebook.  Though I think it is a nice story, I am not convinced it is true.

Have any of you ever heard of this tradition or custom? Maybe it is relevant to only certain parts of the county. Would appreciate if anyone can confirm ever hearing this?

Here is the post seen on Facebook:
 
 
 

I didn't know this, did you? Have you ever been in a cemetery and saw coins laying on a tombstone? There is actually a reason behind it.

COINS LEFT ON TOMBSTONES

While visiting some cemeteries, you may notice that headstones marking certain graves have coins on them, left by previous visitors to the grave.

These coins have distinct meanings when left on the headstones of those who gave their life while serving in America's military, and these meanings vary depending on the denomination of coin.

A coin left on a headstone or at the grave site is meant as a message to the deceased soldier's family that someone else has visited the grave to pay respect. Leaving a penny at the grave means simply that you visited.

A nickel indicates that you and the deceased trained at boot camp together, while a dime means you served with him in some capacity. By leaving a quarter at the grave, you are telling the family that you were with the solider when he was killed.

According to tradition, the money left at graves in national cemeteries and state veterans cemeteries is eventually collected and the funds are put toward maintaining the cemetery or paying burial costs for indigent veterans.

In the U.S., this practice became common during the Vietnam War due to the political divide in the country over the war; leaving a coin was seen as a more practical way to communicate that you had visited the grave than contacting the soldier's family, which could devolve into an uncomfortable argument over politics relating to the war.

Some Vietnam veterans would leave coins as a "down payment" to buy their fallen comrades a beer or play a hand of cards when they would finally be reunited.

The tradition of leaving coins on the headstones of military men and women can be traced as far back as the Roman Empire.







 

Monday, January 21, 2013

Interesting and Important History Lesson

In 1911, Turkey established gun control. From 1915 to 1917, 1.5 million Armenians were exterminated.

In 1929, the Soviet Union established gun control. From 1929 to 1953, about 20 million dissidents, were rounded up and exterminated.

China established gun control in 1935. From 1948 to 1952, 20 million political dissidents were exterminated.
Germany established gun control in 1938 from 1939 to 1945, a total of 13 million Jews exterminated.
Guatemala established gun control in 1964. From 1964 to 1981, 100,000 Mayan Indians were exterminated.
Uganda established gun control in 1970. From 1971 to 1979, 300,000 Christians, exterminated.

During WW II Japan decided not to invade America. The Military High Command advised against it as most Generals knew many American households had guns.
Gun-control laws generally have adverse affects on law-abiding citizens – let’s be real careful if we suggest more gun control laws.