Above and Beyond the Call of Duty

The first formal system for rewarding acts of individual gallantry by the nation's fighting men was established by General George Washington on August 7, 1782.

Designed to recognize "any singularly meritorious action," the award consisted of a purple cloth heart. Records show that only three persons received the award: Sergeant Elijah Churchill, Sergeant William Brown, and Sergeant Daniel Bissel Jr.


Although it was created for the Civil War, Congress made the Medal of Honor a permanent decoration in 1863.

It is our country's highest award. The following are two "typical" examples of valor, above and beyond the call of duty.


As a gunner aboard a B-17 bomber, Sergeant Maynard "Snuffy" Smith's craft was subjected to intense enemy fire over France during WWII. The B-17 was hit several times, two of the crew were gravely injured, the aircraft's oxygen system was destroyed, and several vital control cables were severed when intense fires ignited. With the aircraft literally melting in the air, Sgt. Smith elected to single-handedly administer first aid, extinguish the fires and man the waist guns against attacking aircraft. With onboard ammunition now detonating in the B-17 due to intense heat, Smith threw the exploding ammunition overboard, then fought the white-hot fire until all extinguishers were spent. Wrapping his hands in cloth, Sgt Smith was then able to extinguish the remaining fires and save the aircraft's crew. This was Sergeants Smith's first combat mission.


While on a B-24 bombing run, Lieutenant Colonel Leon Vance's aircraft was repeated hit, killing the pilot and severely wounding Vance, who nearly had his right foot severed. With three of the four engines lost, Vance was still able to drop a load of bombs on his target. As the bomber limped towards its airfield in England, Vance ordered everyone to bail out. Learning that one of the crew was unable to jump, Vance opted to ditch the plane in the English Channel to give the man a change to survive. However, Vance's foot became tangled behind the co-pilot's seat, hanging on by a few tendons. Unable to move, Vance lay on his belly, and made a successful landing in the water using only elevator controls. As the aircraft began to sink, Vance was still trapped, but pushed the other crewman clear of the aircraft. The aircraft then exploded, possibly from the high octane gasoline it carried, blowing Vance clear of the sinking plane. This mission was Vance's second and last combat mission. One month later, while returning to the U.S.A., the C-54 aircraft carrying wounded servicemen went down somewhere near Iceland. The bodies were never recovered and he remains Missing in Action.

These brave heroes and their actions, along with so many others... should never be forgotten. Please put some "memory" into Memorial Day.

I salute and thank all of our fighting men and women. You have made and kept, America the land of the free.

Count them twice to be double sure!

The Lockheed C-5 Galaxy is a large military transport aircraft. It was designed to provide strategic heavy airlift over intercontinental distances and to carry outsize and oversize cargo. It can carry 6 full size motor buses at a time with room to spare.

The C-5 Galaxy has been operated by the United States Air Force (USAF) since 1969 and is one of the largest military aircraft in the world.

Of course, not everyone involved in flying really big airplanes gets to enjoy the all the glamour and excitement of going to strange new places.

During a recent visit to the Air Transport Museum located on the grounds of the Dover Air Force Base in Dover, Delaware, I was reading the labels for C-5 Galaxy - what it could carry and the role it played in various miliary hotspots around the world when I heard the squeeking voice of a young boy about the age of 6 years old say...


"Dad! Who was the poor sucker that they forced to count all them ping pong balls?!"

And then I wondered if they made that "poor sucker" count all 25,844,746 ping pong balls all over again to double check their count...

An Intermission of Sorts

Just a short entry today - In my travels, this past week, I took the two pictures below. They aren't earthshaking Kodak moments, but something made me press the shutter button.


Should I have looked around for Wile E. Coyote to see if he threw this brick at a famous roadrunner?


All the rivers, lakes and ponds we have around here, and these "waterfowl" decide to sit and drink from a puddle?

The strang thing about this puddle was that these two geese "belonged" to a flock of about a dozen geese and they all fought over this puddle (which was only one of about 30 of them in a huge empty parking lot). The flock's alpha goose took note of the ruckus and honked, hissed, and threatened all the others into scurrying away where upon he (or she) immediately sat in the puddle.

Eject! Eject! Eject!

Ejection seats have been around in military aircraft for over 50 years. Like parachutes and helmets, these lifesavers are considered just another piece of flight equipment for high performance jets. It wasn't always that way.

Before ejection seats, bailing out of a burning, out of control aircraft was no mean feat. If the pilot was lucky he had some altitude and enough control to pull the canopy back, get disconnected from his radio and oxygen tank, fly inverted and pop the seat harness, and hope he fell clear of the plane.

When the jet age arrived, aircraft speeds had increased and with them the possibility of bail out successfully became more remote. The solution was the ejection seat. An automatic device to blow the pilot clear of the airframe, protect him from the wind blast, deploy his parachute and bring along his survival gear.

It wasn't so simple, of course. Early ejection seats were nothing more than explosive bolts made from artillery shells, arranged to blow the seat and pilot out of the cockpit. The pilot then had to manually open his chute.

The next step was adding rockets to the seat to provide some clearance from the airframe and extra altitude for the parachute to open. In the 50’s, rockets were so primitive that they couldn't get a pilot clear of the tail, so a more energetic catapult was developed to get the pilot clear faster, but the resulting G forces caused worse injuries than hitting a surface of the out of control jet.


The Johnsville Centrifuge and Space Museum of Warminster, Pennsylvania displays a historically significant remnant of the Naval Air Development Center (NADC) - The principal Navy Research, Development, Test and Evaluation Center for Aircraft, Airborne anti-submarine warfare and aircraft systems during the cold war.

On the museum grounds is a 200 foot tall, ejection seat test tower. It was used to test various ejection seats with an eye on maximising the flyer's chance of survival in face of seriously severe "G" forces. The ejection seat manufacturer's motto is, "The seat is designed for survival and not comfort."


The sloped ramp was the "rails" for the ejection seat testing. The test seat was placed at the base of that ramp on the right, and when fired, (hopefully) went up the ramp toward the top of the tower.

The sphere at the top of the tower is a modern cell phone antenna installation for T-Mobile and was not there during the cold war, seat testing era.


The explosives and rocketry were kept stored in the concrete bunker behind the blast shield wall. I believe the testing was also conducted and observed from within this building.


I could feel the primal dread of the cold war oozing from the ruins, standing there looking at the bunker.


There was a path outlined on the cracked asphalt between the bunker and the base of the test ramp tower indicating where the highly explosive materials where taken from storage and installed in the flight seats.


The flame and hot gases launching the ejection seat was channeled and directed to a couple areas - areas marked so that test observers would know where not to stand (or where to set up their marshmallows to be roasted). The starkness of the scene was haunting - and the cigarette butt lying in a crack somehow ironic.


A close up of the ramp that the ejection seat rode on.


To measure the "G" forces of the launch, the test ramp was marked by a signboard showing each foot in height. They were removed when the tower was painted. I hope they get reinstalled someday.


The test ramp and tower were built by the Martin-Baker Aircraft Company, Ltd. of England.

Martin-Baker is the leading manufacturer of ejection seat in the free world. Their website proudly show a counter indicating how many lives their ejections seats have saved so far - as I type this, 7317 lives altogether, and 11 so far this year.

The Martin-Baker company website has some amazing videos - such as this High-Speed Test showing a fiery ride on a rocket sled and an eye-popping test of an ejection seat.

I found it interesting that the Martin-Baker Company's co-founder, Valentine Baker was born at Llanfairfechan in North Wales, and was an esteemed flying instructor.

In addition to ejection seats, the NADC helped develop and prototype electronic equipment, including avionics, displays, communication, navigation, and computers.

The GPS receivers used by all of the armed services were developed here. You can thank the NADC for your car’s navigation system - as long as you aren't going through Wichita Falls, Texas.

The Carrie Diaries

This morning, as I walked into my office I heard SpongeBob laughing dementedly as only SpongeBob can - so I braced myself for whatever mischief he was in to this time... I followed that eerie "Haaaa hhhaaaaaaa haaaaaa heeeee heeeee read this again!!!" over to the normally quiet area of the office where the fax machine is located and goodness gracious...


...behold what I found. The Pointy Haired Boss utterly speechless by one of Carrie Bradshaw of Sex In The City's goofier antics. In fact he must have read something so shocking and salacious his hair was on end.

And can't you just hear what Carrie would think of his hair and his awful blue suit?

I pulled the "Carrie's Diaries" away from him. He let go most reluctantly, and put the "read me" tape dispenser back in my (this time) locked desk drawer. I told old Pointy Hair that he had to wait until I finished reading the book before he could read it, if and only if I thought it was appropriate... After all there are a lot of young, impressionable characters running around in the office as you might know.

I won this book in a Giveaway!

Ultra cool blogger Heather over at Joy De Vivre Design is having a Sex In The City countdown for the new movie that comes out this Thursday! I've always enjoyed looking at Charlotte York (Kristin Davis) and could look at her for hours and hours and hours... So this was a neat giveaway prize!

Heather's blog also has a couple other interesting features - one is her "Happy Monday" entries and the other is a "Have You Seen This Etsy Shop?" where she searches high and low for the most amazing crafters and then arranges a Giveaway of those really nifty items!

Thank you Heather for the book and for having a blog worth visiting repeatedly!

This Post Dedicated to Deanna

Recently I got an award from aladdinsane12 over at She Don't Make False Claims:

So I want to do two things -

First, I want to award aladdinsane12, this award:



...because I find her refreshing, sassy, smart, upbeat, and really I enjoy her blog. Reading her blog, and others like it (like Joy De Vivre, Dorkys Ramos, A Yankee Girl, Meme Love just for starters) helps keep me feeling young. She went to college in Scotland and lives in Chicagoland.

Thank you so very much.

And second, this past Sunday morning I felt woke up feeling rather blah. The weather was gloomy and things just weren't "going as planned".

I peeked at the comments left on a post I had made recently - now, I always enjoy every one's comments. Some of you make me laugh, some of you make me think, and many of you make me smile with a contented feeling - one that comes from knowing I might of made you laugh or to enjoy seeing some of "my world", filled with the deer, water and green trees (as well as those orange dudes and rusty spheres).

I hope you all know that - I feel badly that I don't often respond to your comments - I'm usually busy reading your blogs or finding things to photograph or write about in a new entry. Truth is, I often don't know how to respond.

Anyway, on Sunday morning, reading your comments, I came across one that... in a single sentence with mere few words that changed my mood in a flash. Someone with a heart of gold - and someone I respect and admire greatly left ...

"The items you listed is one of the reasons I admire you so."

Its hard to explain to someone that hasn't been so far into the bleakness of depression that they simple loathe themselves as to why these words have the power they have. It's my intent to here to express my gratitude and gratefulness - for those words - from someone I admire as much as anyone I know - and to acknowledge the continuing "warm and fuzzy" feeling I get with just knowing this person and to marvel in the thought that they even give me the "time of day".

Punkn (the rest of you can call her Deanna) - I pass along the award I got from aladdinsane12 to you.

It is like a Hallmark Card...the card has words in it, that might tangently express the sentiments of the sender - but in the end, they are really someone else's words - and they aren't written in one's very own handwriting... but they serve - sometimes.


On Sunday, my Dad and I went to a Museum near home - Punkn's words inspired me to "just get out of bed and face the day."

I've promised to write about the visit - because it was a magical one - and I will as soon as I sort out the way-too-many pictures I took. But here is one...


My Dad stands on the edge of a small crowd while the tour guide explains the workings of the world's largest human centrifuge.

The human centrifuge was built in 1949 and initiated operations to research the limits of human tolerance for “G” forces. By the late 1950s it was in use to train astronauts for the US Space Program.

At the base of the machine you will see the sign, "Failure is not an option." This is a quote from the movie, "Apollo 13". It was uttered by NASA Flight Director, Eugene Francis "Gene" Kranz in response to the crisis started when Jim Lovell said, "Houston, we've had a problem" which led to many hours of efforts with considerable ingenuity under extreme pressure by the crew, flight controllers and support personnel for the crew's safe return.

The developing drama was shown on television, which I, a young boy at the time, watched in breathless tension and increasing excitement.

At the upper left hand of this yellowish picture is the door way into the machine's control room containing a chair where all the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo astronauts, amongst them, Alan Shepard, John Glenn, Neil Armstrong, and my boyhood hero, Jim Lovell of Apollo 13 fame sat and put on their special suits.


Our tour ended up in that control room - and I got to sit in that very same chair.

Thank you Punkn. It wouldn't of happened without you. And yes, "failure is not an option."

Elephant Graveyard

An elephant graveyard is a place where, according to legend, older elephants instinctively direct themselves when they reach a certain age. They then die there alone, far from the group.

There are several theories about the term's origin. One theory revolves around people finding groups of elephant skeletons together, or observing old elephants and skeletons in the same habitat. Others suggest that the term may spring from group die-offs such as one excavated in Saxony-Anhalt which had 27 ancient pachyderm skeletons. Other theories focus on elephant behavior during lean times, suggesting that starving elephants gather in places where finding food is easier, and subsequently die there.

-------------------------
This past Sunday morning, the sun rose obscured by a gloomy, low hanging overcast with periods of spotty drizzle. The plans for the day, which entailed driving "deep in to" the neighboring state of Delaware were scrubbed since the weather was crummy and me and my traveling mate were both feeling a bit "iffy".

So we decided to hang close to home - and meet up in the afternoon at a newly opened museum much more local to us - in fact - the museum was almost exactly half way between our homes being situated in lower Bucks County, PA. I hope to write more about the museum as it was a really nifty place for me, who as a young boy who aspired to be an astronaut.

But that story will have to wait -

While I waiting for my Dad to arrive, I went to the newly opened Warminster County Park located right next to the museum to walk a bit. This park is rather unique in that it was cobbled together from land that once formed the Brewster Aircraft Works and later the Navy's NADC (Naval Air Development Center) and as such, within the park, there is the remaining part of the airport used to test pre-and-post WWII Navy planes. The walking trail consists of about 5,000 feet or so of runway and perimeter taxiing and service roads.

Immediately adjacent to the parking lot is Gilda Radner Way and a lovely 200 year old farmhouse that has been transformed into a Gilda Radner Club house for families dealing with cancer. I found myself reflecting on the amazing life of Gilda Radner who died on May 20, 1989 at the age of 42 years old, having her comedic career cut short by ovarian cancer. I just couldn't get over how its been over 20 years now - since I heard her sing that delightful, but dirty, ditty, "Lets Talk Dirty To The Animals" (Note: Rated R)

With Gilda's squeaky voice piping in my head, I began my walk.


This is the sight that greeted me as I walked up a short slope and onto the end of the runway. Barely visible in the gloomy far distance, down the runway is a flagpole with a huge American flag fluttering in the breeze. To the left is the "Bark Park," a place for dogs to run free as the day they were born (or something like that.)

I wasn't feeling "walk-ish", but I put my head down, gritted my teeth, and started down the runway.


My goal was to get close enough to the American flag "way out there" to get a picture of it.

So I plodded and plodded. The runway, once used by Brewster Buffaloes that went on to fight at Pearl Harbor and Midway, stretched out before me.


About half way down the runway, the flag suddenly popped out of the gloom for a few moments - and I luxuriated in the brightness where F4 Phantom IIs destined for Viet Nam once screeched on the pavement.

I noticed something orange in the glare... but it was still a long ways off - so I once more put my head down to watch for cracks in the weather beaten asphalt.


As I near the opposite end of the runway, the vista opens, and the orange glare resolves itself into...


An Orange Conehead Cemetery... a place where old orange cones go to die... or so legend has it.

Instant Broadway Classics...

Joan, over at Teaching isn't for wimps, and Alice Kay's daughter, Karen have both gotten a bad case of the orange cone shutterbugitis. It's like the common cold... there is no cure for it (yet) ... but after making you miserable for a little while, it goes away, maybe, well, sometimes...

Today, I was walking around Lake Nockamixon on some muddy trails in the warm, sticky humidity (I'm building up to "I was feverish") when an old memory came to my mind.

My older brother was in a school production of Oliver Twist when he was a youngster. Each day, he would rehearse his song as one of the poor orphans starving away in the sweatshop in the opening scene. Just before dinner time, he would bring the serving bowls with food to the table singing, "Food! Glorious Food!" I remember the school production was a smash hit, it was so well done, people talked about it for weeks and both my brothers and I sang it at dinner time for months. Someday, I'll ask my Mom what she thought of that.

Anyway, I started humming the song...thinking about Karen's pictures...


The main and nearly only road Karen's neighborhood is being widened - causing 20 minute trips to take 40 or more minutes.

Is it worth the waiting for?
If we live 'til eighty four
All we ever get are bar...rels!
Ev'ry day we say our prayer --
Will they change the orange glare?
Still we get the same old bar...rels!
There is not a stripe, not a rim can we find,
Can we beg, can we borrow, or cadge,
But there's nothing to stop us from getting a thrill
When we all close our eyes and imag...ine...

Karen tells me she thinks this orange cone dude is off the side of the road urinating. I think she has a workable hypothesis. :)

Cones, glorious cones!
Hot asphalt and road blocks!
While we're full of moans
Cold, smelly old sweatsocks!
Deep holes and rough pavement joys!
What next is the question?
Highway drivers have it, boys --
Road con-gestion!

Cones, glorious cones!
We're anxious to film them.
Three snapshots a day --
Our favorite mayhem!

Sleeping on the job? Falling over drunk? A workcone's compensation case? We will never know...

Just picture a great tall stack --
Green, blackened or orange
Oh, cones,
Wonderful cones,
Marvelous cones,
Glorious cones...

Cones, glorious cones!
What is there more handsome?
Scraped, mangled or flattened --
Still worth a king's ransom
What is it we dream about?
What brings on a sigh?
Piled conies with stripes, about
Six feet high!

Karen thinks this cone got a lawnmower haircut. I hated to tell her it was a conetip lobotomy.

Cones, glorious cones!
Neat stripes glow from headlights…
Just set up your flash
Do take pictures at nights
Strengthen the shutter finger!
In this interlude --
The cones,
Once again, cones
Fabulous cones,
Glorious cones...

Cones, glorious cones!
Don't care what they look like --
Burned!
Bent over!
Faded!
Get out the motor bike…
Just seeing our conic tat --
Our senses go reeling
One moment of knowing that
Or-ange feeling!


Karen says these dudes were waiting for a basketball - and that she should have got the backboard and net in the shot. I had to forgive her. As a newbie cone photographer, I'm sure she was simply too excited to properly frame the shot.

Cones, glorious cones!
What wouldn't we give for
That extra bit more --
That's all that we live for
Why should we be fated to
Do nothing but drone
On cones,
Magical cones,
Wonderful cones!
Marvelous cones!
Fabulous cones!
Beautiful cones,
Glor-reee-ous… cones!
Thank you, photojournalist Karen for all of these pictures!

The 5 Challenge

Today, I got a challenge from Aunt of 14. I'm supposed to post five pictures that I really like, list five things that I like about me and then challenge five other bloggers to do the same.

I dug through some of the pictures I have taken recently and uploaded into Flickr and don't think I've included with any previous entries. The rules don't say they have to be your pictures but I'm playing that way. And if I have included a picture before, oh well, just goes to show I do like it. :)


A snow fence down at the New Jersey shore used to help stabilize a sand dune. I remember it being one of the first nice, sunny days after this last hard winter we had when I took this picture. The water glistened and the sand was cool and soft underfoot.


My step-grandmother passed away after a brief battle with lung cancer recently, but a few weeks before she died, her entire family gathered around her at her log house for a BBQ picnic and guitar sing-a-long. This little boy was the youngest...her great-grandson. He was so sunny and bubbly, and obviously adores his older brother. He was the perfect tonic for the undercurrent of sadness that blanketed us.


My Dad recovered from his mild heart attack and nearly gave my Mom one when he brought home a very energetic and exuberant German Shepard puppy. Zoey has the inquisitive nature that matches the gaze on her face. She's just about housebroken already - she's probably much smarter than I am. :)


Every day, when time permits, I walk around the neighborhood where my office is located. Largely residential off the Main Street, the residents of town seem to strive to see who can find and display the most eye-catching nick-knacks.

I just think these two are too cute for words.


I often walk in the Norristown Farm Park since it is only a few blocks from where I live. The county park is the site of the Pennsylvania State Mental Hospital - and the fields are where the inmate/patients once worked for personal fulfillment and inner-peace. They no longer work there - but the one can find inner-peace in the quiet stillness at dusk. The sun is setting on this old rusted tractor near the hay barn, and you can see the sprawling (and recently restored) milk barn across the valley.

5 Things I Like about Me

1. I'm low maintenance and fairly easy to please. It doesn't take a whole lot to make me happy. I don't need $500 shoes, or expensive haircuts, or a 52 inch television (or even cable or satellite for that matter). I will eat most anything - except Lima Beans.

2. I like to hear a good joke (and groaners too) and think one of the most perfect things a human can do for another is to make them laugh...straight from the belly.

3. I was an Eagle Scout and the morals and good values they espouse are hopefully within me. It may be unfashionable to be a "boy scout" but I believe in "being prepared", and "On my honor, I will do my best, to do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law; To help other people at all times; To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight."

4. I like to think that given enough time and incentive, I can work out how just about anything works and what might be done to fix them if they aren't working "right." Analysis and synthesis.

5. I strive to be dependable and reliable. I try to keep my word - and am almost always punctual. I hate it when people roll in even 15 minutes late without a durn good reason!

Now to choose five of you - this is even harder than listing 5 things I like about myself...

I'm going to ask for volunteers... :)

Scorpio is a Water Sign

I have been away on business the past few days - including a couple days spent at the place where the server is in the ladies room. At one of the client sites, I was asked if I would ever move "out west" to get away from the crowds and the traffic. It took me no time at all to say, "No, I could never leave the coast, I have too much of a 'go to the sea' instinct burned into my soul."

I remembered with great fondness, playing in the Towamencin Creek, that ran near my childhood home for hours on end each spring, autumn and winter. Splashing rocks in to the swim hole, wading or plain just falling into the babbling trickle, exploring here and there, and mounting expeditions to traverse under culverts and searches for crayfish.

The summer months meant going to the seashore and playing in the bay, the salt marshes, canoe trips on the creeks through the New Jersey Pine Barrens, and boating on the ocean. And yes, even long walks on the beach.

Give me the raucous, strident cry of a hungry seagull over the contented chirps of a songbird in a field and a swimsuit over a bike, any day.


The Swan Pond, Morris Arboretum, Chestnut Hill, Pennsylvania.

The coupling of the 'elements' (earth, air, fire and water) into Zodiac signs has its roots in Greek philosophy. The Zodiac's three water signs, Cancer, Scorpio and Pisces, represent the wide spectrum of this element’s influence in the astrological world.

Unlike the Greek zodiac, the Chinese zodiac signs are not derived from constellations, but instead, Chinese astrological signs operate on cycles of years. A particular feature of the Chinese zodiac is its operation in a sixty year cycle in combination with the five 'elements' of Chinese astrology (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water).

The Rat, Ox, and Pig are water signs under the Chinese zodiac.

It should come as absolutely no surprise that I'm a ratty Scorpio. I'm not happy unless there is water, and water everywhere.


"Dawn Redwoods" from China, Morris Arboretum, Chestnut Hill, Pennsylvania.

There is a little foot bridge here (16), by the timeless Dawn Redwoods, over a creek that soon flows into the Wissahickon. The sides of the bridge form a bench, on which I have and can sit for hours on end.

But after a time, my feet grow restless, the old urge to splash a rock or poke a stick into the water returns and off I go - there are so many places near my home to visit - countless creeks, streams, and rivers as well as ponds and lakes.

I get into the car and just drive - the steering wheel turns without my thinking about where I'm going - any direction has a place to wet one's feet within a few minutes drive...and this time, I find myself along Oaks Reach and the Schuylkill Canal just west of Valley Forge nearing Phoenixville, PA.

"Ah," I think, "I must have been wanting to see some turtles - or walk on the soft dirt trail."


I am drawn here...during the quiet hour just before sunset, when the breeze drops off and air becomes mild and filled with the soft thrumming sounds of bugs, frogs, birds, the rustle of leaves, and water trickling through the rocks at the canal drain.

A smile comes over my face as I realize that even the ladies room job where I work sitting on the toilet, means I'm close to water.

I want to thank each and every one of you - for your support, care, and concern during the times when I struggle. Chronic depression is something I've had to deal with for many years. Each time I sink into the dark, bleakest places in my mind, I find the way out has been someone like you - holding the light of friendship. I can never thank you enough for lighting the way. Please know that it is greatly appreciated.

Someone's Watching You

UK Virtual Walk

Steps: 6,130,264
Miles: 2613.00
Miles to Go: 92.0

I have been struggling a bit lately. I've deleted my twitter account and deactivated my Facebook account. I know withdrawal is not the answer to what ails me, but I guess being the live alone hermit that I am - the "batten the hatches" and "secure the storm shutter" modus operandi of mine is a nearly unbreakable habit. I apologize to everyone for being antisocial - I honestly don't think you want to read anything I write when I'm "in a black" mood.

So, in short, the dandelions did nothing.


But... the tree hugging did something. I mean, look at this tree... I stood in front of it for a while as if waiting for Winnie the Pooh to amble out and offer me a smackerel of something and maybe a cup of tea.

I was prepared as I remembered a silly bear's advice. "When having a smackerel of something with a friend, don't eat so much that you get stuck in the doorway trying to get out." I think that's really good advice.

Toward the end of April, I walked down to a little ravine that runs beneath the Schuylkill River Trail and see the culvert that was down there. The trail crosses the ravine on a flat and level "fill" since it was a railroad track at one time. You can see the view from down there here.


Today, I walked over the ravine and felt eyes burning between my shoulders. I stopped and leaned over the edge of the trail and looked up and down the ravine... and spotted those eyes on me. Do you see her?


Perhaps you can see her now. She's standing in the water, where I watched her drink for a while.


I asked her, "Does the water taste better when you stand in it?" She looked at me quizzically, her ears twitching and her tail starting to flag in warning. I left her to drink and bathe her feet and walked on.

I think this evening I saw upwards to forty deer. Some of them nearby, but most of them in the distance, all warily watch me. At one point, I could smell them, it was very warm and humid out, and I could smell their sweat on their hides.

I walked around a bend in the trail quietly and startled a group of about twelve of them. All but one of them dashed up the hill to an open field, where they stopped at the edge...


...silhouetted in the setting sun. The one deer that didn't run, walked with me, snorting and twitching nervously, but not advancing or moving away... I've never seen that happen. I'm not sure if she was escorting me, or hoping I might have a deer treat. After walking shotgun for about a quarter mile, she finally tired of me and bounded off with her white tail flying.

I watched her go - but was rudely reminded I had to watch where I was walking.


Nothing like having to wash your shoes off before you can drive home. Sometimes I think one can get a little too close to nature. :)

Dandelion Break

Connections and Coincidences

Alice Kay left a comment on the recent entry about riding a trolley car with my dad saying, "I've got a story to tell you someday. It's about an old trolley car that was being restored in an old building in Dushore quite a few years ago by a guy my dad knew. He had Steamtown connections."

So when time permitted, Alice Kay told me about a friend of her father's named Ed Blossom that had a trolley car renovation and repair shop in Dushore, Pennsylvania. As you might know, her father owned a short-line railroad called the Towanda Monroeton Shippers Lifeline, which was part of a branch line of the Lehigh Valley Railroad that ran to Dushore, Pennsylvania and further south.


Ed Blossom, with the help from some friends, purchased the remains of the Lehigh Valley Transit Company's trolley car #801 as well as some other train and trolley cars, and established the Dushore Car Company in the small Sullivan County, Pennsylvania town. Ed was well known in the trolley restoration world from coast to coast and he was recognized as an authority on the value of transit vehicles.


After some rumination, Alice Kay decided that in 1976, shortly after she married her husband Terri but before her oldest child was born, she and Terri visited Ed's repair shop in Dushore and saw LVT #801 upclose and firsthand.

In 1977, the Dushore Car Co. restoration shop was moved to a two-track car barn built adjacent to the Topton-Kutztown branch of the former Reading Railroad in Berks County, Pennsylvania now the tourist Hawk Mountain Line running a steam engine.


On September 24, 2000, after spending 33 years seeing to it that the (then) 88-year-old trolley car built in 1912 by the Jewett Car Company in Newark, Ohio would be preserved for future generations, 71 year old Ed, watched the trolley car loaded onto a a flat-bed trailer near a rail car barn on the outskirts of Topton to begin a new chapter of its life in the Electric City Trolley Station & Museum in Scranton.


Its exterior restored, right down the the distinctive LVT Co. gold-leaf lettering and arched "stained-glass" windows, the 65-passenger, 41-ton car is undergoing mechanical and interior restoration in the museum's car shop where I saw it on May 1, 2010.

The power of people behind the blogosphere and the Internet awe me.

We are all connected to each other in many ways and many ways in which we are not aware.

Something prompted me to take a closer look at LVT #801 - I couldn't put my finger on the "what caused me to do that?" and it was only later, harnessing the power of Internet searching, that this connection - this link between me and someone else - surfaced.

In memory of Edward Henry Blossom, October 20, 1930 - November 22, 2004. I think I would have greatly enjoyed sharing a lunch hour or two with the man.

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