We flew to Philadelphia for a Navy buddy’s vow renewal. He and his wife served, just like Beth and I did, so we know what that life asks of a marriage. Seeing two people come through all of it still devoted to one another is something worth celebrating.
We stayed at Penn’s Landing, right on the waterfront, the USS New Jersey was moored across the river. We had a great view of the smaller ships in constant motion up and down the water. I have always loved river boat traffic, the way everything moves in organized chaos.
Our first order of business was cheesesteaks. Not “maybe later” and not “if we happen to pass one,” but a direct and intentional pursuit. Grease, paper wrapper, flimsy napkins, and meat and cheese stacked like art. You do not casually eat a Philly cheesesteak. You commit to it, and you accept that your shirt may not survive. That was a risk I was willing to take. John’s Roast Pork was just minutes from the hotel. We sat at the blue tables away from the street, savoring the moment and soaking in the warm sunshine.
From there, we headed to the Liberty Bell. There were no fireworks and no soundtrack, just a cracked bell sitting there quietly. For something known around the world as a symbol of freedom and independence, I expected it to be bigger.
Independence Hall can be seen across the street behind the Bell. That’s where the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were argued over, drafted, and signed.
You can stand there thinking about all of it while Boy Scouts pile in for photos, a toddler melts down, and someone nearby checks email. It might be the most accurate snapshot of America in one room.
After that, we made our way to the Rocky steps. Everyone had smiles, kids ran the steps just like Rocky did in a movie made decades before they were born. That Stallone guy sure made it look much easier in the movie. I bet he never spent 6 years walking on steel decks!
We walked the city, talked, took our time, and resisted the urge to turn the trip into a checklist. There was no schedule and no pressure, just good conversation, shared meals, and a lot of miles on our shoes. It was the kind of quiet, unplanned time that reminds you why traveling together is still fun after 30 years.
Saturday was the vow renewal. The ceremony was held in the chapel of Valley Forge Military Academy. The opening scene from the 1981 film TAPS was shot in that very space. It was simple, sincere, and free of production. Just two friends who had done life together and were choosing to renew their vows.
My Navy friend stood there, older, still cutting a squared away profile, renewing promises he made decades ago, back when his knees worked and his back didn’t click every time he stood up. Anyone can get married. Staying married is the real endurance sport.
After the ceremony, at the local American Legion, we sat with old Navy buddies and talked about memories, kids, and now grandchildren. As we talked about the adventures we shared as young men, from missions to mishaps, we laughed until we cried. It was a truly joyful mix of the past and the future. At the end of the night, we hugged with the love of brothers and parted ways, promising to do a better job of staying in touch.
By Sunday, the travel and the late nights caught up with us. We were worn out and ready to head home. Saying goodbye reminded me that life is short, even on the longest days. Friendships like this aren’t something you should take for granted.
I don’t know how many more of these gatherings the four of us have left. Maybe ten, maybe twenty, or maybe fewer than we’d like. I only know that every time we get together, I’m reminded how lucky I am to still be part of it. That, honestly, is my favorite kind of trip.