Currently viewing the tag: "“Auld Lang Syne”"

Auld Lang Syne

By On · Add Comment · In Featured Articles

Hoffman’s Market Closes

Deb Abraham Spalding

Should auld acquaintences be forgot? We don’t think so!

Hoffman’s Market has closed and its building has been sold, but local children of all ages in Thurmont remember stopping at the market across from Thurmont Middle School and purchasing subs, sodas, and penny candy. These memories will not be forgotten.

“We’ve seen a lot of kids grow up,” Michelle Hoffman said. She added, “Little kids who used to come in from the elementary and middle school now come in with their own kids.” The Hoffmans themselves have had four generations of Hoffmans grow up in the store. The youngest is now three years old.

“It’s bitter sweet,” Sharon Hoffman said when she closed the door to customers at 5:00 p.m.on December 12, 2023, after almost 37 years in business.

She and her late husband Reno opened Hoffman’s Market at 405 East Main Street in 1987. The market was known for scrumptious deli sandwiches. “We make them fresh every morning. We pick good meats and my daughter, Michelle, makes them,” Reno Hoffman explained to The Catoctin Banner in 2009.

Recently, Thurmont’s mayor John Kinnaird shared, “Other than a short time as a hair dresser shop this has been a community general merchandise store. I remember first going there with my parents when we moved to Apples Church Road in 1961. Generations of kids have stopped here after school at what was known as the East End Grocery to grab some penny candy, an ice cream bar, or some soda pop. Charlie Hobbs ran the store for many years and I also remember Pinky Ambrose having it for a time. Everyone probably remembers when it was known as the ‘Purple Store.’ Lots of memories for sure!”

The Hoffmans sold the building at auction in November and on December 12, they held a customer appreciation day for customers to stop in for a sandwich, a piece of cake, and to talk about old times. Then they prepared the sale of the store’s inside contents at an auction the upcoming Saturday.

When asked if they felt Reno would approve of the sale and closing of the store, Sharon said, “The last thing he told me was, ‘Sell that damn store!’” If you knew Reno, that’s just the way he would say it. He was ornery and loved by many. The market was for sale several times before Reno passed.

In the store, it felt as if Reno’s spirit was still around. Michelle said, “We heard him yesterday several times. He was making his presence known!”

The Hoffmans hold their customers and community in high regard. Sharon said, “Thank you for all the wonderful years of kindness, patronage, and friendship. We’ve made a lot of friends that we consider family.”

Note: The Hoffmans have been long time supporters of The Catoctin Banner.  The market served as a distribution point where readers could pick up a copy of our latest edition. We are grateful.

Michelle Hoffman (left) is shown with her daughter Nicole Wentz, and her mother Sharon Hoffman on December 14, 2023 preparing the market’s contents for public auction Saturday, December 16, 2023.

Photo by Deb Abraham Spalding

December 12, 2023, was Customer appreciation Day at Hoffman’s. Pictured left to right are Karen Kinnaird, John Kinnaird, Sharon Hoffman, Michelle Hoffman, Kinsley Wentz, Bradley Wentz, and Nicole Wentz.

Courtesy John Kinnaird

Customers miss Reno Hoffman. He was ornery but sweet with a tell-ya-like-it-is manner. Here he is pictured in an August 2009 Catoctin Banner photo. He passed away October 19, 2021. He and Sharon were married for 56 years and purchased the former Anna’s Market building in 1987.

Photo by Carie Stafford

The Hoffmans handed out 2024 calendar keepsakes to visitors.

Happily Ever After

By On · Add Comment · In Columns

It’s Tradition

by Valerie Nusbaum

It was New Year’s Eve 1993. Randy and I were in the early days of our relationship, and we decided to impress each other and celebrate in a big way. We went to the Holiday Inn in Frederick, where our deluxe package included not only the room, but also dinner, a dance and party, and breakfast the next morning. There was a telephone in our bathroom, which fascinated me for some reason and I remember calling a lot of people. I’ve said it before. It doesn’t take much to impress me.

I was dressed in an emerald green satin brocade cocktail dress with matching jacket, and wearing all manner of bling. It was the ‘90s. Don’t judge me. Randy was dashing in his navy pinstripe suit with a red tie, and we dined on surf and turf. At the party, an inebriated man sprayed Silly String in my hair. Contrary to the writing on the can, that stuff does not easily comb out. I think we stayed until just after midnight to ring in the New Year, and then we went to sleep. We’ve never been party animals.

Flash forward a few years to New Year’s Eve 1996. As often happens during the holidays, I had been fighting a flu bug. I put on my pajamas and got into bed with my blankie to watch the ball drop on television, but I couldn’t stay awake. I awoke sometime later to find myself wearing a party hat, with a noisemaker stuck in my mouth. I was covered in confetti and littered with empty bottles and glasses. The next morning, Randy showed me the photos that he’d taken to commemorate the occasion. He was proud of himself. I guess he got bored all alone on New Year’s Eve.

Three years later, in 1999, I remember us sitting on the edge of the couch at midnight, waiting for the lights to go out and things to explode. All the hype about Y2K had everyone in a tizzy, but when nothing had happened by 12:30 a.m., we went to bed.

New Year’s Eve seems to be a time for traditions, as we celebrate the birth of a new year and reflect upon the events of the previous twelve months. There are parties and champagne, music and dancing, and fireworks. And since 1907, the people of New York City have dropped a large ball at the stroke of midnight. We sing “Auld Lang Syne,” and we kiss the one we’re with—and sometimes we kiss other people, too. Ask Randy about that when you see him.

December 31 is the last day of the Gregorian calendar and that’s the date on which we celebrate New Year’s Eve pretty much all over the world. Julius Caesar is credited with declaring January 1 as the start of the new calendar year, but earlier celebrations date back as far as 4,000 years ago, when a religious festival called Atiku went on for eleven days and praised the barley harvest, thought to have been in what we now call March.

Traditions have grown out of the celebrations. People in Spain eat a dozen grapes just before midnight, with each grape representing hope for the coming months. Legumes are consumed because they resemble coins and are thought to enhance financial success; for example, Italians eat lentils and American Southerners eat black-eyed peas. In Sweden and Norway, people eat a rice pudding containing an almond, and whoever finds the almond is promised twelve months of good fortune—right after paying for having his or her broken tooth repaired.

Pigs are believed to represent prosperity, so pork is served on December 31 in Cuba and Argentina. I know that a lot of my friends and family swear that eating cabbage on January 1 will bring money in the New Year. I do that one, too. It can’t hurt, and I like cabbage and Brussels sprouts. Randy won’t eat either of those things, but then, his favorite vegetable is macaroni and cheese and he puts gravy on it.

The practice of making New Year’s resolutions is believed to date back to the ancient Babylonians, where they promised (or resolved) to pay debts and return borrowed items in order to gain the favor of the Gods. Randy and I don’t really make resolutions any more. We do set goals, and we track them throughout the year. I met all of mine for 2015, but I gave myself easy things to do. Most people resolve to do the hard stuff like losing weight, exercising more, and being better people. Whatever.

There have been a lot of other New Year’s Eves for us. A couple of them were spent with family and friends, and a few were celebrated with dinner at The Shamrock or Cozy Restaurant. I cooked Cornish game hens one year, and another year we got takeout seafood for dinner. It occurs to me that our only New Year’s Eve tradition seems to be spending it together and getting some sleep, and that’s just fine by me. Happy New Year!