City Farm
ith my husband being in the Coast Guard, I, like so many military spouses, have learned
such vital skills as pre-packing before the packers come, house hunting in five days,
and maintaining normal family life in temporary housing. I find, however, that the
most challenging part of moving every two to four years is really getting to know the
area as it were your hometown.
When our children were four and two, we moved to Newport News, Virginia. The Virginia Peninsula is chock full of museums, beaches, sports, theme parks, city parks, and historic sites. This was my fourth move as a military spouse. Being a veteran mover at this point, I already had received pamphlets, booklets, maps and directories from the base housing office, local bureau of tourism, and my car club. I was ready to explore our new home.
One attractive site, in the next city over, was Bluebird Gap Farm. The literature boasted domestic and exotic animals, farm equipment and paraphernalia, playground, and no admission fee. While flipping through the telephone book one day, I came across the City Farm, right here in Newport News. Wonderful, I thought; something a little closer to home.
I called the listed number and a woman answered, �City Farm. May I help you?�
�Yes,� I said. �I�m new to the area and am looking for things to see and do with my children. What sort of facilities do you have; what are your hours of operation and fees?�
There was an uncomfortably long silence from the other end of the line. Finally, the woman spoke, �Ma�am, the City Farm is the Newport News minimum security prison.�
