Neither rain, nor snow, nor gloom of night . . . nor baseball-sized hailstones, nor gas leaks, nor on-going construction, one-way traffic, angry commuters, blocked off parking and frustrated shoppers . . . appear to be able to stay the citizens of Middleburg from getting up, getting dressed and going to work in the best spirit of a community that has not only survived, but prevailed, through drought and derecho, wars and rumors of war, pests and plague, crop failures and famine, scuppernong wine and some long-gone truly awful restaurants.
It has been a rough month here in the heart of Virginia’s hunt and wine country.
The digging, and dust and din of construction on our main thoroughfare continues apace, but the end is in sight . . . and the benefits of an enhanced Middleburg driving, parking, shopping and dining experience will, we all believe, be worth the suffering in the short term.
The Town, its Council, its staff, its businesspeople, its citizens, friends, patrons and supporters rally and soldier on. This, we believe, will pass.
Then, on a glorious end-of-spring day . . . a gas leak, noticeable if one is standing outside from one end of town to the other . . . and strong enough INSIDE some buildings to require just-in-case evacuations.
The town soldiers on.
Then comes the hailstorm from hell, with wind-driven ice-balls stripping trees and vineyards, leaving inch-deep coatings of shredded foliage on roadways and fields that was in some places inches deep. Anything made of metal in the worst cases, was holed or dented. Anything made of glass was fortunate if it was not cracked or shattered.
The town cleaned up, patched up, and carried on.
If ever there was a town and townspeople to rally ‘round, they are here.
June has shown them its worst. They have given back their best.
They’re standing tall. Let’s stand with them.