Recollections on how the Ale Knights began.
The Ale Knights began as friends in the mid 1970s. The friends would meet at parties and gatherings enjoying fine ale, good food, the summer sun or the winter's evenings.
In 1983, at a party of the house of Val Thomas, several of the friends had been drinking and passing the evening away in good conversation. The conversation winded through the usual topics of ale, moral issues, intellectual pasttimes, gaming, and life's bounty and pleasures. A group of three friends broke off from the rest with fresh beer and good food in hand.
An inebriated wino approached the three. The wino appeared in tattered, shabby clothing, long hair and beard, and stinking breath. In one hand he held a bottle of ale in a wrinkled brown paper bag. The three friends greeted the man, but they knew not who he was. He was not a friend to any of the guests.
The wino said his name was Ned. He spoke of his quest for the Holy Ale, and how he had been seeking it for many years. He spoke of his travels and the people he had met. He spoke of the beautiful ladies he knew and the intense physical and mental struggles he had encountered in his travels. He spoke of how he sought this cup of contentment, its cool refreshing draft offered to his lips, only to have it pulled away as he reached for it. Ned prophesized that the friends too must follow the higher calling and seek the Holy Ale. As he spoke, his words were true, and his eyes were clear.
|Witnesses to the event with Bird and Champagne in hand|
One by one the friends attempted to smash the bottle to obtain the mighty sword Excalibur, but the bottle would not break. They attempted to devise tools to fish the implement from its container, but the sword was held tightly within. The first friend attempted to drink the ale from the bottle, but as quickly as he drank, the ale was replenished. The second attempted to best the efforts of the first, but the ale flowed forth, and soon, he too was inebriated. Finally, the third drank the bottle down and plucked with his teeth the mightly opener Excalibur from it resting chamber.
The room glowed with light and the sound of an angelic chorus. Wind whipped around the sword in a minature vortex and escaped from the open windows with a howl. Chips, pretzels, and Cheese Doodles were sucked from the tables and blown upon the floor as the Autumn winds blow the leaves upon the ground. The friends shielded their eyes from the intensity of the light. The voice again spoke in a mighty volume: "H E S H A L L B E K I N G !"
The party resumed as normal.
People were moving about as before, continuing
their conversations, and not noticing the
mess upon the floor.
The three friends realized their calling.
They swore friendship to each other and
the lifelong pursuit of the Holy Ale.