August 24, seven years ago

Hard to believe it has already been seven years since Mom died in 2004 on this very date.  Still harder to believe that here we are back at the old home grounds in PA.  I'll make a quick visit to the cemetery today when we go over to finish up at the house today.  She had an Alzheimer's diagnosis and died of a sudden heart attack soon after that diagnosis at  80, the baby of the  family of siblings.  I have said before that her death was a blessing as the years ahead were not going to be  good.

Well the work goes on, yesterday Jerry & I worked like doggies trimming hedges, etc. at Uncle's house so that it  is all neat and pretty outside. I love working outside, but at my leisure not task driven as we are.  I still have one small side  along the house to clear of grasses amongst the lilies.  I had trusted nephew to do this through his company of lawn and landscaping,  mistake.  Well we are done now.  A realtor from Howard Hanna, the  real estate company that we have is on  TV now touting the great  real estate market in Pittsburgh; I wonder what planet she lives on, because on the outskirts  17 miles away as we are the market is very depressed. 
 

Rumblings yesterday with the earthquake  from DC all the way up to New York.  Some claimed to feel tremors near by but we felt naught in Lower Burrell.  And I know earth quakes after living 40+ years in California.  I think that it  hit DC is a sign that our founding fathers are rolling  seriously in their graves at the state of affairs in our country today! 

Raining and windy  here at Mt Top where we park our  motor home.  Sigh, we left hedge trimmings, ivy, etc in piles yesterday to pick up today.  This rain is a day early proving as usual Mother Nature is unpredictable.  We were just too tired out after a full day working to clean up the clippings.  I did have one small sack which I took to the local city run recycle center.   That was when I stopped back into the city office to inquire about the inspector whose call I am still awaiting.  We would like to go home on Monday as we planned but we need to have their inspection done; so far there are no interested buyers but it cannot be sold  without a city inspection.  PA government and worse as it is up to local boroughs and municipalities.   I want to be ready just in case some buyer appears and I do not want to have to hold up the process.  I know this is very wishful thinking with the real estate situation here.

I find that I get remorseful at the house....I should have and I shouldn't haves  plague me.  I realize that what is done is done and yet when we need something that was there and is now gone along with all house contents, I regret my decisions. At the time I kept asking Jerry if we should save more tools, implements and he too said, "no what for.."   I did not face this predicament with aunt's home in 2009 as that  house sold fast and we were not back and forth so much.  In fact we managed that long distance with email, fax and the realtor.  Now that's nostalgia,  wanting this to go the same way.  No more whining.  No more shoulding onto myself!

It is the little things that get ya' everytime

So yesterday I paid the plumber for the inspection and dye test required by the city of Lower Burrell; he has to turn in the paperwork to the city and  now to get the inspectors out.  Of course I paid that fee to the city as well last week and still no word on when they might find time in their schedule to check out the house.  I will stop into city hall this morning on our way to the house and try to find out something. This is a perfect example of government make work.  Even Allegheny County  across the river does not have this requirement; well I suppose in the city of Pittsburgh itself there is a similar happening. 

Jerry mowed the entire lawn the long hard way with the old mower which thankfully we kept.  It looks far better than the way the  lawn mowers had left it.  I tried calling several lawn and landscaping services yesterday that advertise in the local paper and not a one of them come to Lower Burrell; I wonder why do they advertise in the local paper then? 

Yesterday, Jerry was reminiscing about how precise Uncle Carl was in designing shelves, fitting things together and how detailed Carl's vision and engineering were.  Of course a craftsman like Jerry would appreciate that.  Today many would be clueless.  Jerry also mentioned how  he hated to see all the tools gone and the man cave basement empty.  I miss the old wooden porch swing that belonged to my grandparents.  We saw nothing in the estate sale receipts  to document tool sales.  This leads us to suspect  a fast one by the woman and husband team who did the sale for us.  If I had it to do over, and I realize that I don't I would have waited.  But this is looking  through that marvelous 20/20 hind sight.  At the time the realtor encouraged clearing the place and I realize it had to be done.  But perhaps we could have deferred on the basement contents.   Jerry said he would have towed the trailer back here and loaded it up now that we made  zippo on all that.  Ah well,  regrets do no good and tasks  aplenty await us still onward and forward.

But it is the little things that cause the pangs of regret.  Jerry had placed a very small box of small tools and an old hunting knife that he left on the shelf above the washing machine in the basement which was fully and clearly  marked, "Not for Sale" " Do Not Sell."  The estate woman had  covered over the ironing board and iron atop the washer and dryer & marked it all "Not for Sale"   Well, damned didn't someone go out of their way to steal that small box of metal tape measure, screw drivers', and the knife.  Someone had to work at taking that and we assume it was taken.  Same thing happened with a metal industrial dust pan which we had set aside with the mower and a bucket.  The country western song, says it all,   "God is great, beer is good and people are crazy....."  Small things in the grand scheme and yet it is the little things......These are the things that get ya; when you are honest as we think we are, it is a difficult truth to  reconcile that others do not share the same values. 

After meeting with my friend and attorney yesterday and lamenting that we did not keep the hedge shears and the nephew has not  done what he said he would do, trim the hedges, etc.  Rich, the attorney proved himself to be full service.  Last night we had a reunion planning meeting for our 50th High School event next year.  Rich brought his electric hedge clippers and a long extension cord to loan to us, that's the royal "us" because  Jerry, will use them.  Once again it is good to have friends.  Another friend gave me the name of her lawn mower and I will call him today. 

I laughed at the reunion meeting when people asked me if I came home just for the meeting.  Carlie knows differently as does Rich, but the others?  I joked that since  the last time I had been to one was the  10th I didn't want to be left out.  Rich teased, "We tried to keep her away...."  I have another mission/task now which is to ensure that out of our graduating class of about 360 with about 40 already dead and gone, we have at least 100 at our 50th. Rich has bet me $20 that we will be lucky to have 70 there.  I say surely if we cannot get 100 of us we are the sorriest group to ever graduate from Ken Hi in the Glory Days.   There are so many of our classmates who live locally and yet do not come to the reunions for whatever reasons.  Perhaps if you live in the same place where you grew up there is not a whit of nostalgia?   Still a  50th!  Surely they will come out of  curiosity.  We have planned a very informal beer/pizza gathering for Friday night and a banquet for Saturday night with a live band to play our hits.  People will likely complain about the cost and some will not come because of that, but don't you think that given a year's notice they can save the $50 to attend?  So being someone who hates to lose a bet, I will campaign on Facebookc'mon people, your excuses are well ridiculously small, "I don't know anyone"  I don't have anyone to dance with"  "I need to lose weight" and yet those excuses  are what can take you under.  Get over yourself and come out and enjoy the  50th.

Return to PA and estate tasks

So here we are and all is relatively well.  Our stop in Decatur Indiana accomplished the installation of the new awning replacing that destroyed  in July in the storm here.  However Jerry says we will be unlikely to do further business with Sullivan RV in Decatur.  Their rates are the same as the factory $90 per hour and they did  the work needed however  this was an insurance claim, to which they really racked up the ancillary charges.  We had a $500 deductible but when we reviewed the full list of charges, Jerry was  not amused. There was a disposal fee of $8 and he has the old awning at home, they took a break dragging out the installation time that morning although they were not busy.  Because he knows this business he said it was a 20 minute maximum job and they charged for  1.5 hours, running up the tab.  Our GMAC insurance approved the charges, but Jerry is disgusted.  Honesty and fairness were his keys to success in the auto repair business all those years.  He heard horror stories from customer and now when he experiences these he finds it most annoying.  So he has asked me to write something to our Good Sam RV Lifestyle website to let others know to beware.  Further he claims he would not recommend them to anyone else in our RV circle.

Things can always be worse, this I know.  We met a man in Decatur at the Fleetwood lot where we  stayed overnight. Although his coach and vehicle were registered in Texas, he is a wanna be to leave CA but while he has a business to sell there he is.  He and wife had attended the Family Motor Coach Rally in Madison, WI and while journeying thru  Chicago he went through an underpass that was not tall enough to accomodate his Revolution coach and he suffered the unpleasant experience of shearing off the roof mounted air conditioner and generator.  Fortunately he did not damage the roof.    The facotory could not fit him in for 2 weeks so he was on his way to Ohio where the repair could be done, an insurance claim  to the tune of $7000 to $10,000.   He said he was watching his GPS, but too late and it happened.   This is why we are so very very careful on the routes we take with this Excursion.  And Jerry is very hesitant on some country back roads if there is a bridge underpass.   

But on to PA and here we are once again.  Somehow the hoopla to returning "home" has diminished.  It's like here I am again and I do enjoy  my friends but there is work to be done. Much of this work is phone calls trying to arrange services and this is not an easy task.   The estate sale accomplished the clearing of  Uncle's house, but we made no profit.  I am disappointed in how Sandy  the estate sale contractor did this sale, I realize now she is inexperienced with man cave items and tools and while the local economy is not the best, I just  believe it could have been better promoted.  We were disappointed with reports from the neighbors about the conduct of the sale, the low level of attention paid to customers and the lack of advertising.  I had discussed with her when we were here in July that I disagreed with her  decision to hold the estate sale at Uncle's home on Thursday and Friday with only 1/2 day Saturday, also the reduction of eveything to 1/2 price on Saturday.  When I contracted with her in 2009 for the sale at aunt's she was open on Sunday.  It seems she has decided to do less, her fee is 30% of the proceeds + expenses which is handsome for her and a minimum of $799.  In addition I or seller  pay all haul away costs.  Well she  did call me in MN to let me know that the furniture had not sold.  Instead of leaving it, I elected to allow the vultures to clear out whatever was not sold.  I know now that I should have told her to bid the job, again my trust was misplaced.  It seems that when I trust these people they do not merit that trust.  Oh well, the house is cleared.  The neighbor told me that they left the front door open all night one evening while they were clearing the place.  That  upset me too.  But I must put this all behind me, the home is cleared.

Nephew who has a landscaping and lawn service did not perform tasks expected either.  None of the shrubs or hedges were trimmed and his workers are doing a shoddy job on the lawn.  I called him and he assured me he would send someone out last week or the next.  Well, I must find someone else to do the work to keep the outside looking decent.  I would really appreciate someone saying they are just oo busy to do the job and be done with it, instead of being  well,  less than half assed.

I have been arranging the  inspections and paying the fees,  for the plumbing dye test and for the local city inspector to come in and perform the occupancy standard analysis.  Of the $300 profit  on the estate sale, $100 went for city fees and $175 to the plumber for his testing (compare that to $50 that I paid in 2009 at my aunt's)   $225 at Lowes for repairs Jerry can do to pass the inspections, smoke alarms, cement for the drains that go into old septics, on and on.  No profit on the entire houseful.  Well, it is done and it is what it is.  I could  not endure anymore than I had in July when we were cleaning out. 

My realtor has featured the home as the spotlight home on their website.  http://www.howardhanna.com/property/property.asp  Two other homes in this beautiful quiet  neighborhood have sold in the past weeks. We are hopeful, but the market here has tanked, thanks to all those who voted for and elected the Obysmal one as president, the effects of the slump are being felt.  The real estate here was never inflated as in CA where it had to level off, but now, it has become ridiculous. 

I don't think that anyone who has not gone through settling an estate, especially long distance has any concept of what happens, of the excruciating frustration.  Such is the life of an heiress here in Western PA. 

Networked Blogger

One reason I started this blog was to share our travels in the RV, motor home, coach; as our travel mode has expanded so has my blogging to writing about antiques that now share our home, or family memories and photos ala Sepia Saturday or whatever flits through my mind to the keyboard when there is time to sit at the 'puter. 

Lately there has been little time to write; so busy back and forth to PA, load, unload, phone calls, estate paperwork, attorney calls, realtor calls, fretting, dealing and on and on.  But today as it is showering off and on and most of what will go with us this trip to PA is loaded up, I caught up on some Facebook Invites and thanks to Kat Mortenson, I discovered Networked Blogs. 

I thought that a good way to spread the word around the cyber space about my words that I share here.  I have a dear  friend, Sandy, who has so encouraged me to write almost to the point of nagging; well sometimes well past the point of nagging.  Sandy has problems with computers, this is nothing new because Sandy has that history from days at work and she  is not technologically adroit, more like challenged.  For a time I was able to email her my posts but after her recent  viral infection Blogger would no longer accept her email, it kept rejecting it as " infected."  She had the same type hacking or virus that other friends in CA experienced and to be safe they changed their emails, but not Sandy.  She has not changed her email although that's what I advised her to do, instead she believes all is well, or as well as it is ever to be with Sandy at a computer.  She also doesn't want to notify all of the whoevers that email her about a change, although most ISP's do so easily using their prompts.  But I've already shared that Sandy  at a computer is  akin to the perils of Pauline. I shuddered when she purchased a Kindle, thinking, in a couple months she will have that thing sideways, but so far so good.   Finally I have been able to reenter her email so she gets a direct post, but  really that is not the most convenient for me.  I so prefer comments right onto the blog.  Nevertheless she has been without reading my blog for over a month now.

 Which gets me back to why I started this rambling paragraph---after Kat's invites and my very delayed follow through, I am now Networked Blogger.  This means my blog posts should begin to pop up onto Facebook, something I have noticed others like Bob Scotney and Kat do. 

I have been on Facebook since 2008 when Carlie enticed me with my great reluctance; I thought it was only for college kids.  I am long past that.  I quickly adapted though and it has  been a true link to friends in the hometown and all over, friends from the past with whom there would be no other contact.    Now I check in daily and have it linked into my Blackberry so I get updates on what's up with who.  When you know people all over the country and world as I do, it is a great way to stay in touch.  With a few keystrokes you can converse openly with everyone you know, that is if they are on Facebook.  My friend Sandy, not so much, she had some  flip flops on Facebook too.  Well then we will not even talk about my childhood friend from the hometown 'hood, Kathy Z who prides herself on not using a computer.  She is a retired school teacher and claims to not know how to type.  We wonder how she did her college term papers?  Well but that is another entire story. Then there is Tom, the exception, whom we teased about his dinosaur 'puter who recently replaced the Dino with his new whiz bang that keeps him in touch too and he meets new folks all the time as I have on Facebook. 

That's the downside, for people who stagnate, they miss out.  It is also a bit annoying to  repeat to them individually what everyone already knows by the cyber world, to repeat what is already yesterdays news in life. Such is the challenge in knowing those who allow themselves to fall behind.  This is something I truly strive not to ever let happen--my 94 year old  MIL is a testament to what happens to those who fall behind, live in the past, their minds let them stay there where they may be comfortable but the world passes them by and they no longer participate.  MIL is stuck somewhere in 1930's and has been even though she plodded through life.

Can you believe all this from just getting my Blogger Networked.  That's what I mean about words, my words, sometimes they just keep on coming.   Life it is movement if nothing else.

Like a hole in the head

"You need that like a hole in the head" is what  Mom and Aunt Jinx would tell me when I set  my brown eyes on something they felt unnecessary, it was their way of saying "no"; I'd not thought about that until yesterday when I snapped photos of our new to us, antique side tables that we acquired at Kensington Court in PA.  Jerry spotted these two side tables while we were browsing; yes they are quite nice but did we need them, well like a hole in the head, right, Mom.  Does anybody say that anymore?  And what does that mean, absolutely not....think of it, who wants a hole in their head? But then, holes for mouth and ears are a good thing.

The price was more than right, at $60 for both side tables, unbelievable. On the bottom is the marking Weiman Heirloom Quality Tables which I've googled and find they are likely from the  1930"s maybe the 1940"s and can  go for much higher prices.  So the tables journeyed from PA to MN and their new home. 

The photo preceding is of just one corner in Kensington Court;  there is a massive array of any and everything to be found.  I"d heard about Kensington Court on Barnes St. in New Ken and in July we stopped in after the People's Library book sale. http://www.kensingtoncourtab.com/ValleyNewsDispatch.htm   I sure hope those guys make it because they have a wonderful array of antiques from many vendors all displaying quality items. 

Different font here as the Arial doesn't quite work.   Their website http://kensingtoncourtab.com/Albums/pages/image/imagepage1.html   In addition to antiques one vendor had a armoire filled with high quality name brand purses; that's where I acquired my new to me Dooney Bourke bag, something else I needed another purse like a hole in the head but at $25 who could resist?  Even if it is a knock off and I don't think so, it is a high quality replica that has fooled me. 

Whilst buying these tables, I said, "we are here to have my uncle's home cleared and arrange the estate sale.  I am selling stuff, why am I buying stuff?"  The pair are each  20 1/2 inches across the widest part of the scalloped top, the shelf is 15 inches off the  ground and the full height is 25 1/2".  I speculated that if they had been attached as one it would have been perfect for the flat screen TV which is in the living room, to my ever annoyance.  We were not thinking too far ahead when we moved here; no one watches TV in the formal living room, it is a place to visit.  But to move the primary hook ups for Cable to the entire house would be an expense that we need, well like a hole in the head.  And here  cable is  a necessity else there is no TV reception, blocked by those Mississippi River Bluffs.  We have a small table that holds the TV, Bose, and accouterments; it's something we acquired to make do.  So far we cannot find a replacement and it does get on my nerves.  I would really prefer not to have this in the living room and Jerry keeps assuring me that when we find the right table/armoire or something that can be re-engineered it will be OK.  Well, that does give us a reason to look at antique malls, estate sales.

Jerrys table

This one is Jerry"s because it is beside his chair and it is the one that had a  custom beveled  protective glass top.  I am familiar with glass tops,  my family always had glass protecting the better tables,. etc.  We will get another made for my table once we settle down from PA trips...Underneath the glass is an exquisite doily that my grandmother made; I was surprised when Jerry asked for one of my "lacies" or frou-frous as he calls them.  He said it would keep the glass in place and must be  very fine; he approved immediately of this selection.

This shows the marvelous gold leaf and the inlay scallops.  Such fine craftsmanship; this is why we prefer seasoned furniture to the new mass produced of today.  This is my table, without the glass and you may be able to see some of the slight crazing, which is to be expected  of vintage.   Well the tables did  need some very serious cleaning which involved the use of Black Wax, and lots of  elbow grease, which is superb for restoring finishes.  If these tables could talk, what tales they might share of events and gatherings they have seen.  I can see a gentleman with his brandy snifter and cigar sitting.  The shelf on my table took an extra dose of cleaning, calling for Murphy's Oil Soap; there was a gritty residue.  But now it is in fine shape. 

I wanted to call attention to the leg, with the bronze  metal finish and the tiny caster roller wheel that is sunk into the carpet. It is engraved resembling a tiny paw above the wheel,  which does not show in the photo.   This type of finish was our  first hint about the age of these vintage twins.  How long has it been since such finishing was done?


You can see one of the minor  dings on the leg, but again, at their age, these tables are entitled to show a bit of wear. 


My only complaint is that they are about  two inches too tall; Jerry teased that he could shorten them but they would never be the same.  I am sure.

Blogger is being difficult in posting photos, so I will conclude the post and go on to other tasks...there has been so little time to write these last two weeks.  I can't expect it will be much different for a time now.  Another trip to PA begins on Sunday.  Well, we can stop in at Kensington Court again.   

More vintage advertisements

This continues my previous post about neat vintage advertisements  rescued from the trash  at Uncle Carl's while clearing the place.  This treasure is  from Polack Furniture, a store I do not recall in New Kensington however it may well have been before my time as on the back someone wrote, "Antique 1937"    I am skeptical of that date because the phone is an EDison prefix, something from the  1950"s. LIkely during my growing up years I had less than no interest in furniture stores.  The Sun Drug soda counter or its  racks of comic books or the GCMurphy which was catty cornered across the street were my downtown haunts.   I  do recall seeing these types of  framed photos/thermometer advertisements while I was growing up.  A long way from today's digital thermometers.  What is perhaps even more amazing is that this thing works, the temperature reflects rather accurately.It is a wooden frame with glass, two photos and the thermometer.    Jerry rescued this from a pole in the basement. The colors in the print are vibrant.



Somebody's Sweetheart



While clearing my aunt's home in 2009  there were a couple of similar advertisement photo/thermometers from what was Eger's Jewelers in New Kensington.  I gave those to a friend who revels in all vintage and historical things from town.  I spotted one in the Kensington Court Antique Mall this last trip for sale at $55!  Wow, nice gift to Sam and it was not even his birthday.   Now that I have renewed contact with Harvey Eger, I wish I had that to display on Facebook. 

This second one, a silhouette photo which is painted on the back of the glass in the frame is unusual.  I have it in the motor home near the dining table as a comparison of the times; we travel in a house on wheels, using a microwave and convection oven while the era this reflects  cooking by fireplace.  We are a long way past that.  This silhouette photo is also from the same furniture company, according to the  labeling on the back of the frame.  Notice the long rifle above the fireplace and candlestick holders on the mantle.  This portrays a colonial or early settler  hearth in rust and beige tones..   

Silhouette advertisement

Both prints are about the same size, 5 inches  by 7 inches.  Blogger is giving me the runaround tonight, so I will sign off and leave these memories  of a time when merchants relied not on  TV or the Internet, but good old fashioned customer contact.  It was a time when keeping the name of the merchant in the mind of the customer was as easy as providing a trinket of these sorts. 

Observations and Conversations in Decatur

We arrived Decatur, only 343 miles from Tarentum,  yesterday afternoon in time to check in at Sullivan's, lest you get the idea it is a resort, I assure you it is not.  Sullivan's is another RV sales and service dealer here in Decatur, down the road from the Fleetwood Factory Service center.  They "invited" us to plug in and spend the night and said in the morning they would get to us.  Well it is a step up from the WalMart RV experience because there is free electricity, welcome in this Indiana heat and humidity, but the gravel lot alongside the highway is less than scenic.  Still, at the end of the day who's to question; we did not feel like driving out to Paul and Barb's farm, weary from the PA tasks and just. agreed to crash for the night.  Some Stauffer's frozen foods were sufficient for dinner, a cold beer for Jerry and lots of iced tea for me; ice cream in the freezer for a later dessert.   As the employees left, we began to feel like the night watch over the facility. While another coach was plugged in next to us, there were no occupants, indeed we were the night watch.

A new owner of an RV trailer was receiving instructions about how to operate his new rig while his wife and babies watched.  Jerry noticed as the new owner  tried to leave the lot  that his trailer TV antenna had not been retracted.  A young boy of about 11 was busily driving a golf cart around and around the lot, evidently waiting  until his dad was done working.  Jerry flagged the boy down and sent him scurrying golf cart at full throttle after the man, who was attempting to pull out of the lot towing his trailer.  The kid did so and flashed a big thumbs up sign to Jerry.  Accident averted and victory for the boy who was quite proud of himself for  the rescue.  Would have been a heck of a way to to break in a new trailer, losing the TV antenna right out the door of the lot.  From observing the man trying to pull out of the lot and navigate the turns, we could easily predict he will have travel problems aplenty.   

Today we learned that the awning will have to be ordered (inventories in stock are a figment of the past) to replace the one the PA thunder storm damaged/removed, the external light adjacent is of a type no longer made (why am I not surprised as this is a 2008 model and everything of course has to change) but a substitute would work as well, and finally Jerry's albatross, the satellite receiver  could be fixed.  At first they thought the awning would arrive tomorrow at which time we agreed to wait rather than stop by on our return trip in a couple weeks.  But as the day went on, they were no longer certain of tomorrow's delivery nor when tomorrow; as "when" morphed into "if" we agreed to call from home on our return trip to PA. 

  After 4 hours working, tinkering via computer, doing what Jerry had already done (?) on the signal with the KVH satellite company, and replacing a switch box which Jerry still believes was unnecessary,  we were good to go.  I exited to the guest lounge as Jerry explained to the installer his knowledge of electronics, etc. kind of hinting, "don't lead me on." On my way out the door, I  said, "just get it fixed already..." While Jerry remained in the coach observing I entertained myself in their lounge with courtesy coffee and a TV.  I have a good book to read, as usual, this one the autobiography of Peggy Lee along with a lot of historical jazz information, so I can sit for awhile.  But into the lounge came other customers and conversations flowed.

 A couple from Cincinnati towing a huge trailer on their way to Sturgis, SD, to the motorcycle gathering which they've previously attended, were return customers with a satellite TV problem as well as a generator issue. He said the generator works and then shuts off then resumes and the service manager told him they would have to tear it apart.  I speculated that as long as it was working unless they planned to miss Sturgis, they would want to be gone.  When I  related their story to Jerry, he shook his head and  said it sounded like a fuel blockage, uttering a few more  observations on how these guys were  not skilled diagnosticians.  The man  from Cincin. is recovering from a recent severe concussion  from falling off a ladder,  as he explained the first time in  over 30 years, nearly tearing his ear off and  having 32 stitches to his head, we all agreed it could have been worse.  His head was shaved bald and sporting only a small bandaid, but his ear was red and scarred.  He said that he is having trouble remembering and comprehending and tires easily, that likely explained why he seemed bewildered.   I asked if he should be driving that distance and he said when he tires he pulls over and rests. His wife admitted being unable to drive their coach, seems unwise to me given the circumstances.  This morning we noticed  them pull in their Tiffany coach which is  at least 40 feet like ours with a huge trailer where they load their bikes and who knows what else. The dust they stirred was amazing and they appeared to be in a hurry! Surprise, they were going to wait just like the rest of us. Earlier we watched them take a small Harley out of their huge trailer and tootle off, she riding on the back.   They told me he just turned 50 and his wife is 66, causing me to wonder about that age  difference.  She looked good but I wonder what either one would want with the other; that is enough age span to be a parent.  Whatever, good for the goose and gander so it goes.  This conversation started to go downhill when  the office girl overheard and approached, who knows why,  to  wave her hand at us, showing  off her big diamond wedding band, proclaiming that her husband referred to her as his Mercedes.  I tell you you do meet characters on the road. 

 When they learned we have made this trip so frequently, he asked for route advice saying he wanted to avoid Chicago.  I told him there is  likewise construction on I 80 which we saw in June and advised avoiding it. Another man who had taken a chair  agreed and said, to avoid I80 at all costs as he had that experience last week, one lane and hours of delay.   I shared our favorite route is 224 out of Decatur to  24 all across Indiana and Illinois to I 39 north toward Madison where they can pick up I94/90 and continue to Sturgis.   An old farmer, with only one arm,  replete in  dugarees who was also in the lounge offered that 24 ran right  by their farm and we were all invited to stop by.  The Cincinatti couple seemed interested in the route but he had a  lot of questions about where he could get gas; this puzzled me because we fill up at Beaverdam Ohio (east of here )and continue to So. Beloit, Wisconsin before we  refuel.  When I asked him if they use diesel and he acknowledged they did, I then questioned  what mileage he gets.  His response made me shudder, 5 to 6  mpg!  He  allowed as he is towing a huge trailer, but Jerry later said, likely he hauls fast.  In which case they will not like my advice on Hwy 24, which is good two lane road but not a speedway.   Jerry later said, best to watch out for their likes and give them a wide berth on the road, repeating that just because people can afford to buy these motor homes does not mean they should be allowed to drive without a special exam.  .   

I would periodically wander back and forth to the coach to check on the status.  My last return the old farmer told me that they were headed to Amishville RV in  Berne near here and he only needed a wheel fixed on his trailer.  I learned that Berne Swiss Days starts tonight, so we will take a drive there to see what Barb has described for years. 

We are spending another night in Decatur, this time just down the road at the Fleetwood lot, hooked up and will leave early AM.  A side trip over to  check in with Paul and Barb and we should be good to go.  Oh, the Dish works now, but............Jerry tells me he cannot get FOX news which we miss on the road.  This will be another extra expense I am sure.

PA acquisitions, vintage advertising, thunder and Henry Hudson

Playing the waiting game, still, yet again as we await a call from an insurance adjuster about the small awning the wind and thunderstorm blew off our coach entry door on Friday. I was inside the coach after my fast flight from the car to the door, as the rains came down, but  Jerry remained outside in the car watching the cascading torrents of water.  I say it is because I am so much faster than he is that I escaped, but he questions my tactics and adds, who would run out in the rain when one can remain dry  by staying in place until the micro burst passes.   Amidst the heat we have endured here this trip, the rain would have otherwise been welcome, but as I heard the pounding on the motor home against the roaring claps of thunder and the beating hail, I had to wonder if I was so smart in leaving the car. 

Another thing, I thought here in PA everyone knew the analogy of thunder and Henry Hudson rolling strikes and spares, bowling. I don't expect Californians to understand or even know who Henry Hudson was and likely not Minnesotans  either, but my PA pals, come on; we heard the folk tales, the history, the ghost stories.  Yet Anna had to explain this analogy  to Rich.  We learned in our history classes about Henry Hudson the explorer and his trials; I think I'd have liked him, he was headstrong among other attributes. Just one link to Henry - and you might want to find others--  http://www.pbs.org/empireofthebay/profiles/hudson.html  

The legend or good old fashioned ghost story as I recall was that he was lost, never heard from but when the thunder rolled across the hills people fancied him busy in the clouds bowling and today 400 years + later, he is still celebrated in New York.   The following is the tale.....

Henry Hudson and the Catskill Gnomes

A New York Ghost Story  retold by S. E. Schlosser
On September 3rd of 1609, Henry Hudson sailed the Half Moon into the mouth of the great New York river that later bore his name. The explorer and his crew journeyed north for several days, trading with the native residents and searching for the fabled northwest passage to the Orient. By the time he reached the area that would become present-day Albany, Hudson knew that he had not found the passage for which he sought. Reluctantly, he turned the Half Moon and sailed back down the river.
That night, Henry Hudson and his crew anchored the Half Moon in the shadow of the Catskill Mountains. Around midnight, Hudson heard the sound of music floating across the mountains and down to the river. Taking a few members of his crew, he went ashore and followed the sound up and up into the Catskills. The sound of the music grew louder as Hudson and his men marched up to the edge of a precipice. To their astonishment, a group of pygmies with long, bushy beards and eyes like pigs were dancing and singing and capering about in the firelight.

Hudson realized that these creatures were the metal-working gnomes of whom the natives had spoken. One of the bushy-bearded chaps spotted the explorer and his men and welcomed them with a cheer. The short men surrounded the crew and drew them into the firelight and the dance. Hudson and his men were delighted with these strange, small creatures, and with the hard liquor that the gnomes had brewed. Long into the night, the men drank and played nine-pins with the gnomes while Henry Hudson sipped at a single glass of spirits and spoke with the chief of the gnomes about many deep and mysterious things.

Realizing at last how late it was, Hudson looked around for his men. At first, he couldn't locate them. All he saw were large groups of gnomes, laughing and joking as they sprawled around the fire. Then, to his astonishment, he recognized several of the gnomes as his crewmen! They had undergone a transformation. Their heads had swollen to twice their normal size, their eyes were small and pig-like, and their bodies had shortened until they were only a little taller than the gnomes themselves.
Hudson was alarmed, and asked the chief of the gnomes for an explanation. It was, the chief explained to Hudson, the effect of the magical hard liquor the gnomes brewed. It would wear off when the liquor did. Hudson wasn't sure that he believed the little man. Afraid of what else might happen to him and his crewman if they continued to linger in such company, Hudson hurriedly took his leave of the gnomes and hustled his severely drunken crewmen back to the Half Moon. The entire crew slept late into the morning, as if they were under the influence of a sleeping draught. When they awakened, the crewmen who had accompanied Hudson up into the Catskill Mountains, aside from ferocious headaches, were back to normal

Hudson continued on his way down the great river, and by October 4th, the Half Moon had reached the mouth and Hudson and his crew sailed for home. In 1610, Hudson set off on another journey, searching for a northwestern passage to the Orient. Trapped in the ice through a long winter, Hudson's crew eventually mutinied and set Henry Hudson and eight of his crewmen adrift in the Hudson Bay. They were never seen again.

In September 1629, twenty years to the day that Hudson and his crew met the Catskill gnomes, a bright fire appeared on the precipice above the hollow, and dance music could be heard floating through the mountains. The Catskill gnomes spent the evening dancing, and carousing and drinking their magic liquor. At midnight, they were joined by the spirits of Henry Hudson and crew. Merry was their meeting, and the gnomes and the spirits played nine-pins all night long. Each time they rolled the ball, a peal of thunder would shake the mountains, and the fire would flare up in bolts like lightening. The party lasted until daybreak, at which hour the spirits departed from the hills, with promises to return.

Every twenty years, the spirits of Henry Hudson and his crew returned to the Catskill Mountains to play nine-pins with the gnomes, and to look out over the country they had first explored together on the Half Moon. Now and then, one of the Dutch settlers living in the region came across the spirits as they played nine-pins. They claimed that any man foolish enough to drink of the spirits' magic liquor would sleep from the moment the spirits departed the mountain to the day they returned, twenty years later. Most folks discounted the story, although several members of Rip Van Winkle's family swore it was true. True or false, wise folks who walk among the Catskills in September do not accept a drink of liquor when it is offered to them. Just in case.   

Malyn Brothers hanger

Meantime I've acquired a few tiny items of advertisements, from a time when items were given to promote one's business.  No  TV costs, just something useful to remind people of the business.  This trip, amidst the frenetic final  clearing Uncle's home, I look for tidbits, small items that would be tossed unless a rabid collector  for old New Ken nostalgia like myself happened into the sale. I could not leave this hangar for the toss pile. I date it to the late 1940"s or 1950 at the latest.  I do not remember this tailor but I do recall Patti & Sons who are still in business today here.

 The inscription burnt into the wood is (left to right) "The home of high class tailoring" along the  left,  Malyn Brothers  Bell phone 276-M across the top, "920 Fifth Avenue  New Kensington, Pa" along the right.  I can date this by the phone number; I recall our first phone number as 748-R, the time of party lines and old black clunkers.  As  a tot I immediately memorized my name, address, mom's name, grandparents, and our phone number which sticks with me more than 60 years.  In those days we youngsters wandered along the sidewalks and by the time I was merely six I would be walking down the hill alone to my grandparents.  Truth be told if I got the least annoyed with things at home, I ran down the hill to my grandparents.  There were no concerns of child nappers or any other harm coming to a loose child.  And all my runnings away did not concern Mom who knew I'd head straight for the grands where I was coddled as I felt I deserved.   

But back to the hanger, a quality way to advertise from a time when clothing was to be fitted properly, just so, and tailors were essential.  So different from today when any sizing goes and folks either wear torn off pants, perhaps cuff them,  or wear the  edges off their pant  hems by walking on them.  As my late aunt would have lamented, "sweeping the street."   Imagine being given such an item as this old hanger today?  No you can't can you, it would be a plastic hanger made in China at best or a tin dinky like metal excuse for a hanger such as dry cleaners use today, nothing worth saving.  I suspect that the old time tailors are rolling in their graves at folks wearing ill fitting and wrinkly clothes.   Maybe they can team up with Henry to amuse themselves. 

In another post I will share photos of two other small advertisements, I've salvaged.   As usual I have rambled a gamut from Henry to hangers...

Holding pattern waiting for others

So here we are in a holding, hovering, waiting pattern which does not match my personality, less type A in retirement, but still wanting to get things done, moving, over with.  Estate sale lady was not at the home yesterday and I wonder why she has wasted a day.  I really should not be here observing because I begin to wonder about too many things, such as how low will she price items?   Yesterday I saw the beautiful 24K gold coated McCoy tea set that she'd placed on the dining room table as she is staging the house.  I left her a note that it had to be sold at a minimum  $35 to $30  else I would keep it  and sell it myself.  This is just what I do not want to get into, still I am reluctant to give away items that I know fetch a pretty high cost in the antique shops. Better that a stranger pay more, especially a dealer who plans to resell it for a higher cost. 

July purchase at People's

We spent two hours in downtown New Kensington on Friday.  The first stop was  People's Library, for their annual book sale; as we parked in the  lot, a man noticed the license plate on our car and greeted us, "Wow folks are coming from Minnesota to our sale!"  People's  was/is my hometown library where I spent summers back and forth, checking out armloads of books that I'd take home and read and return for another batch. I grew up with my love of reading indulged by the library; we did not purchase books back then and I suppose this has led to my having an extensive home library still today.  To the left is the stack I purchased.  To raise funds they sell  the books by the pound, my stack coming to $14, but feeling philanthropic I gave them a $20 and told them to keep the change.  They were very pleased with the tip with  one lady commenting they had not been given a tip that she could recall.  Meantime Jerry remained outside in the courtyard eating a hot dog which they were also selling for the benefit of the Library.  After I staggered out with my armload, I too indulged.  This stack reminds me of checking out books in the summer as a teen, where I would take the limit, usually a large stack and never a thought to the heavy weight I would carry back up the hill.  No backpack and no cart, just my arms loaded.  Hearing of my purchase on Facebook,  my friend Patti, a Nook user when she does read, commented that my episode with the stack of books reminded her of Lucille Ball's Long Long Trailer.

Across from Kensington Court on Barnes Street

After the library we wandered over to Kensington Court on Barnes Street where two men have bought and are grandly restoring the building that many local friends conclude was the old Kenmar hotel.  It is now filled with lovely assortments of antiques and collectibles, some being sold by the owners and some  by other vendors who lease space.  It was a very interesting and I wish the owners well.  They live upstairs of the store and so far they have had no vandalism which is amazing with the status of downtown so declined from glory days. They shared that the Redevelopment authority is attempting to restore downtown with unique shops and another is scheduled to relocate soon from Lawrenceville, specializing in Steelers memorabilia which is to be manufactured there as well.   While there I found an armoire of magnificent purses and spotted  a Dooney Bourke purse for only $25; had to buy it although I know I need not another purse, but it was a buy I could not resist.  There are also two antique end  tables that we may return for to take home; Jerry believes they will be fine in our living room beside both wingback chairs. 

A Saturday gathering with some school friends
I've dubbed ourselves the Crew of 62
Dianne Boggs Cribbs, me, Rich Hemprich, Patti Drew Sasselli
My new Dooney Bourke purse to the right front 

 Uncle's home is now listed with the realtor, with whom we met yesterday and with whom I decided to be more aggressive as the customer by listing the home above her recommendation cognizant that  I can always decrease the price but cannot increase it.  The housing market here even in  Lower Burrell is way down from two years ago although the housing market and values in Pittsburgh have maintained their levels according to news.  I am sad to think about this home on the market but realize I  do not ever want to live in Pennsylvania and so will not keep it.



Which brings me to our holding pattern, everything waiting for the estate sale and ultimate clean out of the home.  The old carpeting needs to be torn out to show the good hardwood floors beneath and the kitchen and dining room need a coat of paint.  All waiting until......patience is not part of Pat's attributes.  Where is my magic wand when I need to wave it?  Have I misplaced it in a senior moment!

Ambulance 1942 Sepia Saturday Week 83 (Click here to visit Sepia host site)

We are again in Pennsylvania attending to business for Uncle's estate and visiting friends while this  busyness continues.  I did download a few photos to share on the road.  This week's  theme of "What's Going On?" could have worked for me the past two weeks with some of the men.  But this week I share a postcard sent to my Uncle Carl by his friend, Ed Saliba, who was on the home front, when Carl was in the Army in WWII. 

In addition to this handsome vehicle, what strikes me is that back then, fundraisers were held to purchase equipment, and although folks had little money they contributed.  I do recall community fund raisers as late as the 1970's in California, but today the attitude is to get money from the government, from a well which is now nearly dry.  I wonder if we have lost our ability to pay for what our communities need by fundraisers, bake sales, good old fashioned contributions and the like.  It has not happened as recently as last month in our town, where a new community swimming pool was overwhelmingly foisted onto the backs of property owners in the town.  People looked at me as if I had lost my mind when I mentioned that perhaps we could hold some fund raisers first to generate a baseline for the swimming pool before going to the taxpayers. 

But I will climb down from my soapbox for now and post the back of this card.  Ed Saliba would become the fire chief for many years, for the same New Kensington Fire Department #1 where Uncle Carl was a lifelong member, today Ed's son is the  fire chief.    Here is the back of that postcard.  I understand that Uncle Carl sent a dollar of his Army pay toward the ambulance.  That sounds insignificant today but if he made only $12 or $15 per month, that was a mighty sum. 

This third photo shows the 100 year old fire bell on the front of the 1981 annual banquet program,  celebrating that event.  Uncle Carl saved each of  these annual banquet programs some of  which I displayed in a memorial book at his funeral and all of which I have donated back to the local Fire Department.  I have written previously  that the fire department meant a lot to him all his life. 

This is my contribution for the week.   As usual, if you click on the title to this post, you can visit the international Sepia Saturday site and enjoy the multitude of photos and stories shared. 

Bear Hunting 1948-49 Sepia Saturday Week 82 (Click here to the hostsite)

Off theme again, but with more photos from Uncle Carl of about 1948-49, a bear hunt in Kane PA.  I know that Kane is south of Erie, PA but learned more: Nestled at the edge of the Allegheny National Forest, Kane has a rich history. It was named for the Civil War leader of Pennsylvania's Bucktail Regiment,Thomas L. Kane, who founded the town in the early 1860s. General Kane was wounded in battle and was taken as a prisoner of war as well. He also fought at the Battle of Gettysburg, and is revered by the Mormons for single-handedly helping avert an all-out war between the Mormons and the U.S. government in the late 1800s. A county in Utah is named for him, and a full-size statue of Kane occupies a central position in the rotunda of the Utah State Capital building in Salt Lake City. Although not a Mormon himself, General Kane was repulsed by the persecution of the Mormons and fought for their human rights. Kane also was a friend of several U.S. Presidents, including Grant, Buchanan, and Polk.  His brother, Elisha Kent Kane was, himself, a famous Arctic explorer and painter whose death celebration rivaled that of President Lincoln. A crater on the moon , a US naval ship, and an Arctic waterway are named for him. In 1921.  Dr. Evan O'Neill Kane made medical surgical history by removing his own appendix.  Certainly the area  was founded by stalwarts. 

Mook and the Bear Hunter

I also read that Kane boasts being the black cherry capitol of the world and certainly the bear would like cherries too.   I recall being a young girlie, not even in school,  maybe 4-5 years old when Uncle Carl said something about going bear hunting up north.  I became upset because I knew the story well of Goldilocks and the 3 Bears.  However,  he assured me that they would certainly not be after those bears. So when I found these photos with little information other than Bear Hunt 1949 and some names of more men unknown to me, I wonder if this is that very event.  The first photo shows a man, "Mook" leaning on the front of a car and  "Bear  Hunter" standing beside.  Jerry tells me the car is about 1947-48.  


Carl holding bear trap

Just this week national news reported that a man was killed by a Grizzly bear in Yellowstone Park.  There has been a lot of coverage about  what to do if one encounters a bear in the woods and  how to proceed whether in the presence of a grizzly or black bear.   I certainly would not be able to discern the type of bear if I ever would encounter one; I will stick to the more civilized areas to avoid any such encounter, although we have had bear here in La Crescent come down the river and from the  hills.  

The following is the picture I just had to post this week.  I don't know any of these men, but it is quite the gathering.  Evidently the man on the far left was unknown to my Uncle because he identified him as  the bear hunter, was he some professional?  These four men look very different from each other.  Minnie, to the far right looks bear sized to me and what an outfit he sports. 



Bear Hunter, Tick, Mook, Minnie at Kane, PA  Mts.

 I do not know whether or not they were successful in catching the bear.  There are no photos and Uncle Carl always had photos of the results of the hunt or the fishing expedition.  So I am thinking there were no bear that came near.

Tick holding bear trap

Hunter sets it up

And the last showing this trap set up on the end of the porch.  I wonder if this had anything in it or under the board below to lure or attract the bear, or if this was just a way to keep the bear away.  It certainly  is quite a contraption.  This last photo showing it secured to the end of the porch makes me wonder if the bear was big enough, could it have torn loose the post on the porch?  I don't know any bear hunters to question.

 This has been my Sepia Saturday post for the week. This has been on something that I know nothing about so it has been a challenge to write.   As always click on the title to get tot he Sepia host site where you can link to  what others share and see the magnificent photo of lights Alan found for the week.

Summer Reads Kitchen House and Burning Sea

I am remembering my summers of childhood and adolescence when I journeyed on foot up and down the hill to the town library for my week's stash of books  to read.  I would check out the limit and bring them home and start reading on the front porch.  I had extremely advanced reading skills and if left alone, not bothered for chores by Mom, I could  finish a book in a day or two.  We never bought books in my family, only the occasional comic book but the library was my resource and free.  Today I have a massive home library and  buy books here and there readily. One woman in my book club asked me what I did with all the books I buy and this does get to be a dilemma because I cannot keep them all; I donate to our local library book sales where we raise funds for the library, I pass along books to friends, and I donate to the library at the church where our book club meets. There is never a book sale to be passed by and there are many older books worth reading.  I still read rapidly but also can absorb the information rapidly and to scan over drivel. 

I am so into my summer reading swing once again and just finished two more books, both excellent stories, both novels.  While I prefer non fiction, I  do appreciate  a novel that teaches me something and both these books did; well if the research that goes into the book is good, there is often something to learn.  That is why James Michener is my all time favorite author.  It is unique today to find authors who research their subjects so thoroughly as both these authors did.

First "The Kitchen House" by Kathleen Grissom, published by Simon and Schuster in 2010, 377 pages, selected  by our book club, a story set in post colonial  (1790's) Virginia about Lavinia, an Irish orphan girl who becomes an indentured servant to the tobacco plantation owned by the captain of the ship on which she'd been migrating with her parents and brother.  When both parents die the children are separated and sold off.  A seven year old girl is alone, that is Lavinia who is sold to the captain.  Lavinia is raised with the black slaves particularly by Belle who runs the kitchen house where the meals are made for the family.  True to the history of the era, there was a separate house behind the plantation where meals were cooked.    The novel spans the life of the Captain, reaches back to the time of his parents and then forward to his son and is narrated alternately by Lavinia and Belle.  It is  a good tale with many intriguing characters, Mama Mae, Papa George, Uncle Jacob are all slaves to the household and compared to the field slaves, they are better off.  The captain's wife and mother of Marshall and Sally battles opium addiction and finally loses herself in it after Sally's tragic death.  The story calls attention to  some of our nation's history that I had forgotten, that of the indentured servants, mostly white Europeans, many Irish  who lived on the plantations and were part of the slave community despite their white skin.  This is not a pleasant story in many parts but it is well written and compelling reading.  The characters do not always do what the reader thinks they will and that draws us along.

Grissom is a new author to me, but I would read other of her books; she explains in her extensive Author's Notes and Conversation at the end of the book  that she felt guided by voices from the past to  develop this tale while she was researching the history of the area.  Pg. 368, " I tried on a number of occasions to change some of the events (those that I found profoundly disturbing) but the story would stop when I did that, so I forged ahead to write what was revealed.  I am forever grateful to the souls who gifted me with their sharing." She explains that she wrote the prologue in one sitting after being inspired by a map she found while renovating an old plantation tavern in Virginia.  When asked if she will write a sequel she says perhaps.  She took the names of the slaves found in her research for the numerous characters.  She offers advice to aspiring writers, first to read and to have an excellent foundation in reading and then to persist.  I am sorry that I will miss our book club  discussion about this  good read, but we will be gone.  I give this 4 ****

"Beside a Burning Sea" by John Shors, 429 pages, published in 2008 by the New American Library,  sat alongside my evening reading chair for a few months while I read other books; I'd start and then go onto another read for the book club or  another book I just had to read.  So I determined I would complete it soon and I am glad I did.  This is a World War II novel about the survivors of a hospital ship, Benevolence, that is torpedoed in the Pacific by the Japanese.  The survivors reach an island  and strive to stay alive.  Excellent characters are developed including the ship's Captain and  his nurse wife, Isabelle, her sister Annie another nurse, Jake, Ratu, a villain, the nefarious and traitorous Roger, and Akira,  a Japanese prisoner of war who bonds with his captors striving to survive on the island.  Akira is a poet who was conscripted for the Japanese army and the author weaves this theme through the tail by introducing each chapter with a haiku, such as this one for Day 11, The Island,                           "Man thinks himself strong,
                                             Until the sky reminds him.
                                              Ants explore green trees"
Annie is engaged to another back home but finds herself drawn to the quiet depth of Akira.  There is a reader's discussion guide at the end of this book making it useful for discussions.  Evidently Shors first wrote, "Beneath a Marble Sky" which I shall seek out at a sale and may have since released his third novel, "In the Footsteps of Dragons."

 He writes very descriptively,  pg. 237., " The rain came not long after dawn, dripping from a somber sky as if a trillion wet towels hung above.  A schizophrenic wind started and stopped and changed directions. The wind's uncertainty seemed to infect every creature on the island with a similar sense of bewilderment.  Birds flew toward distant horizons and then flew back. Frogs ceased to croak.  Insects were suddenly nowhere to be seen.  Even the fish that usually darted about the shallows sought deeper water."    On Friday evening we had tornado style winds at  60 mph, and then a power outage that lasted all  night  until Saturday at 8:30AM; it was a humdinger storm right about the time I was reading that paragraph.

Orange Blossom Special ??

We watched the Capitol 4th on PBS the night of July 4th; all the entertainment was top notch and this year seemed better than any we remembered with Josh Groban, Michael Morrison, Jordan Sparks, etc.  What was most surprising was Steve Martin playing a mean banjo  and his Blue Grass Band,  do they call themselves the Canyon Stampede?  Their fiddle player  did an excellent job with one of our all time favorites, Orange Blossom Special. 

And that reminded me of a photo taken by my Uncle Carl about 1989; I am guessing the date because while it was amongst others from 1989 he did not note it on the back where  he only wrote, "train up at the Marionville, Pa. Mts."  I think this photo is good enough to be a postcard or  enlarged and hung as artwork.   I don't know anything about Marionville, PA but will have to Google and check that out.  I wonder if it was a special steam train excursion such as we took a couple years ago  here in MN from Winona.  It does remind me of the old steam train that operated in the forests out of Ft. Bragg on the northern CA coast too.    

From the Folsom Prison song  by Johnny Cash "I hear the train a'comin, she's comin'round the bend....."

Uncle Carl's steam train

Well, this also gives me a break from indoor domestic chores which have taken my attention this afternoon, the downstairs study, TV room and all that floor is now vacuumed and dusted and  the ironing caught up.  We will head  out to PA on Sunday and the next couple days I will be busy getting my hair cut, lightened, pedicure and clothing out to the motor home for the trip.  But my grandma's spirit stays with me as I am compelled to have my house sparkling clean before we go.  We don't get that dirty here  but I do clean myself out the door much as she used to do on our way to church on Sunday mornings. 

Gulf Station Men Sepia Saturday week 81 (Click here to get to the Sepia Host site)

Not on theme and not on Independence Day either, instead sharing some  photos of unknown men, from Uncle Carl's collections of photos.  I can guess that  he had a new camera and was out  on the town taking photos.  These are all  tiny originals  two by  three inches.  All were taken in New Kensington, PA, our hometown, about 1939-1940 and apparently men Carl knew.  I have no idea where in the town this  was but back then there was the town itself  was concentrated along the river and the family lived on Second Avenue.  Wealthier folks, business owners and professional types  lived up above the railroad tracks on the hills.   At first glance, I thought these were local firemen colleagues and they may be but after scanning and enlarging I discovered they employees of  what was a Gulf Gasoline Station.  Here they hold cans of Gulf Pride!

Gulf Gas Station Men New Kensington, PA

Back then I understand it was common for people to buy one or two gallons of gasoline; these photos document its price range from 18 1/2 cents to 22 cents per gallon!  I wonder  what coin they used for the half cent?  Check out the thin man in the middle above with coin holder to make change. so    I don't know that I have ever seen one of those before. Comical and yet sad to consider that back then change was useful as items were so cheap and people treasured each coin.   This first photo has the gas at 18 1/2 cents,  but watch that sign....


Gulf Station men at play



Above the men are clowning around and enjoying themselves, but dressed warmer, longer sleeves and a sweater.  There is that coin changer again and the thin man smoking a cigarette.  Gas is  22 cents by the sign here.


In front of the old Coca Cola machine

I am amazed at the hats and full uniform worn by the men. This man may be the same one on the right in the first photo and is possibly a young Ed Saliba, SR. He was slightly younger than my Uncle Carl,  longtime fire chief and friend and still living in New Kensington.  He and the firemen came to Carl's funeral.  Gas above is 20 cents per gallon.

Gulf Station Gasoline 20cents per gallon

Above you can see the sign showing the breakdown on the price of gasoline, 15 cents for the  gas, 4 cents for Pennsylvania state tax and 1 penny for federal tax.  The taxes remain the same in all these photos.  It sure was a different world back then!     The sign above the window on the storefront, reads Association, but in none of the photos does it show Association of what....

Coca Cola machine for bottles
 Gulfpride  oil stand to the right

This photo is darker but the one where you can clearly read the sign, "That good gulf gas..."  The bell telephone sign to the far  left corner reminiscent of the time when folks went to the store to use the pay telephones. 

I will tie this post to my Facebook page and perhaps some from the home town can tell more about the men and the place.  And they will likely be interested in the photos.  As always, visit the Sepia Site where others share in our international community.  I am posting later today because we had one hellacious storm  with winds at  60 miles per hour and more, last night and power was off until an hour ago.  But all is well around our homesite and we hope around town.