In the mid ’70s, our family lived in a small community in southwest Virginia that had several local traditions, including the making of apple cider each fall. Being city born and bred, participating was really a great experience on a crisp autumn Friday afternoon.

I was so impressed that I asked Marvin Scot, our neighbor-farmer, if he could keep the old wooden apple press for another day. My thinking was that that I could take my two boys (14 and nine) through the entire process … something they would never forget.

We wound up the next day with four one-gallon jugs of juice. Told to take them home and place them in the shade of the back porch with caps loosened until they “worked,” we dutifully followed orders.

Each day when I came home from work, I looked carefully to see if the juice had “worked,” but after a few weeks or so when nothing happened, I thought it best to cap at least one. After a few more days, I capped the next, then the next, until all four were capped, labeled, and placed in the root cellar to be enjoyed when the snow flew.

Winter arrived, and when we began to bring the jugs up and opened the first, the apple juice had not changed – still just apple juice. The next one was apple cider. The third was close to applejack (really good), but the last one to be capped had turned to apple cider vinegar!

Something made me think of that experience recently, and I wondered whether our two boys still remembered it. I called Rand, who had been nine years old at the time, and asked whether he remembered making apple cider in Virginia back when. He thought a bit, then said, “Yeah, I remember Marvin Scot’s farm.” Well, I figured, after all, he was only nine.

I called our older boy, who was 14 at the time, and asked the same question. His response: “Yeah, we made 10 gallons, and they all turned to vinegar!”

His answer was my greatest object lesson of all time: It’s not necessarily the information a youngster takes away from an experience that matters; rather it might be the fact that they did something meaningful with their dad that had the greater impact long term.

Both our boys are successful today, and although they may not remember how cider is made, I am well satisfied.