Black River and Western Railroad

Last Saturday, my dad and I took a train ride! This was his first "day out" since his health troubles began the day before Thanksgiving. I had bought tickets to the excursion long before that - and was hoping against hope he would be "up to it." Up to it he was!

Here comes the train!

The ex-Lehigh Valley "SW-1" locomotive, #112 was built in April, 1939!

Founded in the early 1960's by a group of friends with an interest in steam railroading, the Black River & Western Railroad has seen many changes over the years. The first BR&W passenger trains between Flemington and Ringoes operated under a lease agreement with the Pennsylvania Railroad, which still operated freight service on the line. Eventually, the BR&W purchased the line from Lambertville to Flemington, and later added the former Central Railroad of New Jersey line from Flemington to Three Bridges.

After the ride, I walked 10 miles on the Delaware Canal on a sunny but chilly day.

Happy New Year to all!

Christmas 2013

The dates were finally put on the my grandfather's gravestone this year. I can't describe how I feel - it makes things... feel so "final" somehow.

When I placed the grave blankets on my grandparent's graves this year, I spent some time recalling the many Christmases past that my grandparents and aunts and uncles came to visit - and so many of the wonderful memories.

My grandfather on the last Christmas he enjoyed opening presents.

My grandmother with her younger sister, the Mayor of Chula Vista, California and her husband, visiting Lawrence Welk. Mr. Welk was one of my grandmother's most favorite musicians. She loved singing "Toyland, Toyland" and I learned to play it on the piano for her.

My grandfather with his three sisters - My aunts Harry, Johanna Parker, Mary Dunn, and Marian Hawn (my Dad, Robert, is in the chair behind them). Ross Hawn Jr. is the smiling face between the legs. Palmyra, New Jersey circa 1945. Ross Sr., Marian's husband, probably took the photograph.

My mom's mom. I love this photograph, murky as it is, because it shows her shoveling snow out to the clothesline in Milton Mills, New Hampshire. She suffered several strokes while I was young and most of my memories of her are her in a nursing home - unable to remember anyone's name, including her own.

My mom's dad hold my mom on the edge of the ocean - He was a loving but "set in his ways" man - He was the only one of the four grandparents I was with when he died. His heart failed while he was in a snoozing nap - and his end was a peaceful one. It was so hard to envision this man being born in "Indian Territory" (now Oklahoma), serving as a telegraph operator in the Navy during WWI, and retiring to a farmhouse in New Hampshire - miles from the "City". I have since learned some of his story in my quest to get my mom's Daughters of the American Revolution membership.

One of the stories tickles me pink - He was one of 5 strapping young men in his family, they all ran to 6 foot and several inches tall - but it was his mother that they all called for when they spotted a rattlesnake. They would cry, "Momma! Momma! Come quick, there is a snake here!" and the little pioneer woman, she was only 4 foot 8, would rush to their side with a hoe and dispatch the snake for them.

For many years, no matter how much snow was on the roads - these people would somehow find their way to my boyhood home early Christmas Day - and made Christmas... Christmas for three little, much loved, boys.

A Welcomed Phone Call

After a week in the hospital, a minor heart attack, congestive heart failure, edema, and an episode of massive internal bleeding - my dad called me on his cellphone saying "I'm on my way home."

This past Thanksgiving was "interrupted" and found the family gathered together, including my brother and his family from out of town, scrambling about and supporting each other as my dad was very much under the weather. The Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving, he suffered massive bleeding, and ended up having an emergency in the ER (he passed out while going to the bathroom). Many units of blood transfusions later, he developed edema and that triggered a heart attack. The doctors implanted a pacemaker a couple days ago (was it Tuesday? forgive me things are a blur) and then treated him for the aftermath of the edema treatment (apparently the drugs for that temporarily (hopefully!) messed up his kidney function).

No phone call has ever been more welcomed.

I thank all of you for your kind words - your prayers - and your unstinting support. I am truly blessed with the best of friends.

On Thanksgiving, my family understood - really understood - what being thankful really means... it's not for "stuff"... it's for blessings. We were thankful for the hospital ER staff that saved my dad's life. We all want him to be able to pull in more Red Drum and other fish like the one pictured - on another day.

Rumples - Kent County Humane Society

Sometimes, some things just reaffirms one's faith in humankind.

Kent County Humane Society

Wordless Wednesdays

Link to Place

The Birds!

My take on Alfred Hitchcock's classic film.

Wordless Wednesday

A walk in the canyon

This past weekend, I walked the Pine Creek trail located in the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon just outside of Wellsboro, PA. It was quite cold in the morning but as the sun slowly warmed things up, it became more comfortable.

I totaled 62,550 steps and 26.8 miles. This is the second (and likely last) marathon length walk this year. I felt rewarded in that I had challenged myself and had "made it."

I was probably a week or two too late for the peak foliage - but it was still spectacular - I was enjoying the view so much, I forgot to take many photos (after my fingers thawed out that is!)

Next year, I am planning to walk the Lehigh Valley Gorge Rail Trail - the only questions are logistics and where to start and end!

Trail map showing 34 and 25 mile options.

:)

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod

This past weekend, I was "upstate" in the wilds of Pennsylvania.  I stayed a couple nights in the charming town of Wellsboro, Pennsylvania.  In the town square, there is a fountain and statue of some little children in a wooden shoe.

Intrigued, I read the little sign that explained it was named "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod" after a popular poem for children written by American writer and poet Eugene Field and published on March 9, 1889. The original title was Dutch Lullaby.

The poem goes:

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe —
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
Said Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea —
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish —
Never afeard are we";
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam —
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea —
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

The Honorable Fred W. Bailey of Denver, Colorado, presented the statue of the Green to the children of Wellsboro as a gesture of love for his late wife Elizabeth. Elizabeth’s love for Field’s poem and love for her hometown inspired Bailey to donate the memorial.

Elizabeth Cameron was born and raised in Wellsboro, Pennsylvania. Fred Bailey also grew up in Wellsboro, but followed his yearning for the West to Colorado in 1884.

After a few years he returned to Wellsboro, courted and married Elizabeth Cameron, and returned to Denver. Fred and Elizabeth Bailey never had children, but her love of children was obvious by the Memorial her husband chose to reflect her life.

The statue was sculpted by Mabel Landrum Torrey who was born in a sod house in Colorado. She attended the Art of Institute of Chicago and majored in sculpture. Her original Wynken, Blynken and Nod sculpture received praise from art critics when it was on exhibit in Chicago.

Mrs. Torrey presented Denver Mayor Robert Speer with her original piece of work. He was reportedly so delighted with it that he commissioned her to sculpt one in marble. In 1918, it was placed in the children’s fountain of Washington Park.  So there are two copies of this work - one in Denver, Colorado and one in Wellsboro, Pennsylvania.

Will the last person out...

...turn off the lights?

It was with certain feelings of sadness that I closed up the houseboat for the season this past weekend. I always hate to see the end of a season - with its uncertainty as to what the winter and the next year will bring.  This past boating season was a mixed one - interrupted for a long stretch in July when my dad suffered a heart attack - it was also interrupted by a number of rainy weekends too.

I did however, enjoy getting to meet the dogs, Huckleberry, Newfie, and the new wharf dog, a black Labrador named Gracie.  Gracie provided a bit of comic relief a couple weeks ago as she got her head stuck in a red bucket that held feed corn for the ducks, geese, and chickens.  Unable to shake it off, she ran around the parking lot like a maniac until she rammed into a parked black pickup truck - the impact freed her head from the bucket and the appearance of the "huge truck that came out of nowhere" scared her witless.  She jumped up and backwards at least three feet!  The owner of the truck, and the owner of the wharf and I witness this cavorting and broke out in laughter.

Huckleberry and Newfie are the "tree farm guard dogs" - but neither of them seem to see many people and both are as shy as can be.  I started carrying "Beggin' Strips" when I walked up the long wharf road past the tree farm to see if I could tempt them.  The first meeting was uncertain, just as Huckleberry was just (finally!) going to allow me to pet him, my cellphone beeped for an incoming text message - that startled him so badly he took off and soon had a hundred yards between us!  The two dog slowly warmed to me, however as the weekends went by - and this past weekend, I was met at the farm boundary by two drooling dogs in search of a head pat (I suppose they actually just wanted a Beggin' Strip).

The boats are being taken out of the Chester River, one by one and the Water's Edge will be out within the week.

Until next year... I leave my water-borne friends and neighbors.

..and get ready for the "Pumpkin Season," those 6-7 weeks between now and Thanksgiving.  I do enjoy the cool air and the changing leaves.  Recently, I went to the Morris Arboretum and looked at the scarecrow contestants.  They are in my Flickr account (here).  I think you will enjoy them.  They are so creative!

Halloween Swap Goodies!

I recently got some really "good mail" - a package with goodies from my Halloween Swap partner Francine at Primitive Stars!  Thank you Francine!

The swap was arranged and coordinated by wonderful Parsley at Seasons of My Mind. I am thankful I know her!

Francine sent a wooden Smiling Black Cat wearing a pumpkin-themed witches hat "door greeter". I think that expression is so "me"!

The handmade, primitive candy corn pillow is a delight as is the homemade Halloween greeting card!  Francine finds and creates some of the most interesting "primitive" items, like starts, bowls, and other things.  They are most eye-catching.

The box with the smiling black cat on it contains big candy corn kernels and the rectangular box contains pure maple sugar candies! Those will be a treat for sure!

The little pumpkin candle smells to nice, I'm thinking I won't ever light it up!

The 'cinnamon fire' Jolly Ranchers are a boyhood favorite - I always loved how the intense flavor exploded in your mouth! As an aside, I also found it interesting that the Jolly Rangers were made in at Hershey, PA, just "down the road" from me, went all the way to Francine in Canada and back again!

Thanks again Francine! And thank you, Parley for doing the hard work of setting this swap up! It was so very nice!

In search of old memories...

I have, in the past, written about my "honorary" Aunt Bea.

Aunt Bea was one of my paternal Grandmother's friends - she grew up "around the corner from the church" they both attended. Later on, when my dad served his 2 weeks a year in the Army Reserves, my mom stayed with my dad's mom with my older brother (who was a one year old) and got to know Aunt Bea too - and the three of them became "best buddies" and they all went shopping together. Aunt Bea moved out west to California with her second husband (the first one died suddenly) and has lived out there for more than 40 years (the second husband died too, of cancer). When my parents had their 50th wedding anniversary she came back to the east coast to join the party and has become very active once more with our family.

This June, she turned 90 years old and asked me to locate her second husband's younger brother.  I have tried a number of times to "find him" but have had no luck so far.  His name is (or was) Richard Donald Kane, born July 19, 1930 in Chester, PA.

While I was searching for him, I rummaged through the box of stuff my grandfather left behind and found this photograph, dated circa 1941..

It shows my dad between two recently made US Sailors.  The man on the right is an "unknown" but the man on the left is Philip Lewis Hallworth (Jr.); MOMM2 (Motor Machinist 2nd class) US Navy World War II (22 Oct 1919 - 13 Oct 1963), my Aunt Bea's first husband.  My eye was caught by the navy hats (you may recall my recent "acquisition" of my great-uncle Marshall's WWI sailors hat.)

I was just a toddler when Philip passed away - and do not recall ever having met him.  Everyone that knew him (that remains with us today) speaks very highly of him, and recalls he went deaf while working in the engine rooms of the various ships he worked on.  Today he rests in the Beverly National Cemetery, in Beverly, NJ (Section X Site 3315).  My Aunt Bea plans to join him there someday.

The mystery man seems to be hauntingly familar, as if somewhere in my past, I encountered him - but nothing more that the vaguest of shimmering thought surfaces to the forefront.  Perhaps, some night, it will come to me - that elusive memory.  Looking at the photograph, he seems to have been a nice guy.  My dad has no memory of this "photo op," and says the events of the time (the outbreak of the war) and his um... unfortunately timed, flying of a Japanese Flag out his bedroom window and its aftermath are all he can recall.

Another photograph sends me down memory lane...

In the pink...

On the way home from the houseboat this weekend, I stopped long enough to take a photograph of a... a... um... eyeful? that I have been seeing the past month or so. I ran the photograph past my brother and ask, "What the heck?" and he answered, "Perhaps the latest Mary Kay Cosmetics top sales winner didn't want a Cadillac?"

That worked for me!

The real story (found here) is nearly as bizarre. Meet “Smoke on the Water,” The Grill Meister’s floating BBQ restaurant.

As the story relates, in October of 2012 the houseboat was purchased from the nearby Worton Creek Marina. The interior was gutted, and painted inside and out. In went 3 refrigerators, a freezer, gas stove, and custom-made grill on the deck.

As soon as possible, I'll try to sample some of the cooking!  Meantime, I have to find my sunglasses!

Wordless Thursday

Want to go on a Biplane ride?

This past weekend, my younger brother, dad and I went to see the airshow at the Golden Age Air Museum. The weather was a bit cloudy and cool at first, but by the end of the show - the sun had popped out.  We had a good time, and as always, we stood in awe at the marvelous 80-90 year old planes being expertly flown for us.

 I just like the paint job on this green and white 1930 Great Lakes "Sport Trainer."  It put on quite a show.

 The star of the arcobatics show was this yellow Bücker Jungmeister (U-55).  It did crazy stunts like the one in the video below - if you have a weak stomach, be prepared for it to lurch!




After watching this particular move, my dad turned to me and asked, "Want to go on a Biplane ride?"
"Umm," I replied, "no... I don't think so."

Tale of Two Cities

A short while ago, a friend of mine flew in from Chicago to visit.  We had known each other for some time (and for more years than I probably should admit too) but have never met in person.  We met "chatting" on-line and when the chat site closed down, continued our friendship through each others blog.

It was so nice to see her in person, finally!

We didn't have a whole lot of time, just a couple days, and have talked about so many places in the "Philly" neighborhood - we had to make a short list from a very long list of things to do and see (and places to eat at!)

Fortunately, she said, "Remember Paoli!" - and so we went to the Paoli Massacre site (actually located in Malvern) and looked at the corn fields that grew wheat.  The Battle of Paoli (also known as the Battle of Paoli Tavern or the Paoli Massacre) was a battle in the Philadelphia campaign of the American Revolutionary War fought on September 20, 1777, in the area surrounding present-day Malvern, Pennsylvania.

Paoli Massacre Monument

 George Washington left a force under the command of Brigadier General Anthony Wayne behind in order to monitor and harass the British as they prepared to move on the revolutionary capital of Philadelphia. On the evening of September 20, British forces under the command of Major General Charles Grey led a surprise attack on Wayne's encampment near the Paoli Tavern.

A total of 272 men were killed, wounded or missing from Wayne's division after the battle.  The British lost only 4 men.  After visiting the fields - we had dinner at the "Paoli Tavern" and shared excellent food and drink with the ghosts of battle.

Paoli Tavern - now the General Warren Inne

The next morning, we went to Valley Forge National Historical Park - and visited the statue of "Mad" Anthony Wayne - who rides a horse and looks toward his home (Waynesboro) and the nearby Paoli Massacre site.

Mad Anthony Wayne Statue (with friends)

The weather that morning was as nice it gets - we visited the outer line of defenses and stopped to see the arch, which honors General George Washington as a Mason, and the men that served under him through their suffering at Valley Forge.

Valley Forge Masonic Arch

George Washington stayed in a tent until his men had built themselves shelters, crude log huts of 9-12 men hardly big enough for that many men to simply stand up in.  Once satisfied his men were housed the best as could be expected, he (and Martha) moved into the home of Issac Potts.  There my friend and I woke up a sleepy park ranger and asked questions just to see if he could talk (well, sort of, anyway..)

Washington's Headquarters - Valley Forge - Issac Potts House

The real "blessing" of the months long stay at Valley Forge were the lessons in soldering, drills on marching in large formations, weapons firing, use of the bayonet, and responding to drum beaten orders. Lessons given by Baron Friedrich von Steuben.

"On February 23, 1777, von Steuben reported for duty to Washington at Valley Forge. Von Steuben spoke little English and he often yelled to his translator, "Over here! Swear at him for me!" Colonel Alexander Hamilton and General Nathanael Greene were of great help in assisting Steuben in drafting a training program for the Army, which found approval with Washington."

My friend and I found the Baron little troubled by a wasp nest that had been made in a most vulnerable place or perhaps we too, might have been called upon to swear at them for the Baron..

Von Steuben

From Valley Forge, we headed downtown to the National Constitution Center and visited the statues of all the signers (and 3 non-signers) of the U.S. Constitution.  We then sort of saw the Liberty Bell - (the line was miles long, so we unfortunately had to skip a close up encounter and settle for peeking in a streaky window.)  We visited Independence Hall, something I have not done since my Grandmother took me there when I was about 7 years old.  With the day growing warmer, we walked to Restaurant Row on South Street, where we partook in a hearty German meal and learned some German (Bier trinken und Deutsch sprechen!) in the Brauhaus Schmidt (after finding it when it got temporarily lost).

Liberty Bell and Independence Hall

After another delicious meal, we got the car out of the parking garage (finally!) and went to see Fort Mifflin - which is conveniently located to the airport my friend was to fly home from and inconveniently closed when we got there.  I talked the park ranger into letting us in for a few minutes after explaining my out of town friend might not ever have a chance to see the place again.

That morning, we stood on the banks of Valley Creek and the Schuylkill River at Valley Forge.  Our too brief time together came to a close with us standing on the banks of the Delaware River at Fort Mifflin.

 

I left my friend worn out and probably a bit "overloaded" - and hope sometime, soon, there will be a next time.

...and truth be told, for me, the highlight of the entire weekend was hugging her hello - followed closely by her company over a good meal.

Chestertown Color

This past weekend, I enjoyed watching the ducks at the wharf. Momma Duck has 10 little ones - and 3 brothers and sisters. She has a couple white geese and a lone Blue Heron for neighbors. There is also a white Turkey and a Rooster with two hens living nearby.


I went over to Chestertown's Fountain Park to take photos of all the painted park benches. I wanted to "collect the set."

The fountain has recently been restored it dates to 1853. Photos of the restoration can be found (here)

After admiring the benches, I strolled up and down the streets of town - and admired a butterfly

A colorful mural of Chester River "town dock" with the Steamship "B. S. Ford" and the Schooner Sultana (and cute crabs dancing on baskets).

Having walked ten miles that day, this chair looked extra-super inviting

...turns out it is for sale, as is the entire house behind it.

I took a short drive the next morning to the sleepy town of Oxford, Maryland and spotted another "bay side" mural

I really didn't want to go home last weekend. The next "colors" with be autumnal. :)

Mile Marker 18

This is a little granite marker on the side of the towpath of the Delaware Canal in Washington Crossing, Pennsylvania.  It is very near my parents house and it has a meaning to our family that others passing by are unaware.

The Delaware Canal is 60 miles long, and extends from Bristol to Easton and follows the Delaware River which separates Pennsylvania and New Jersey.  The Friends of the Delaware Canal installed these mile markers for the benefit of the many people that walk, run, and/or bike along the towpath.  The cost of the markers was defrayed by donations.  I donated mile marker 18 (and if truth be told, mile marker 25.)

The many floods along the canal in recent years has caused havoc, but by and large, most of the markers have survived without harm.

Mile maker 18 stated dedication is "In honor of" my parents.  It is indeed that - and it is also in honor of a family pet.  Just before I donated the money for the stone, the family cat (one of my mother's favorites over the years) passed away at the age of 18 years.  He was entirely jet black except for his inquisitive yellow eyes - and his name was "Shadow".  It seemed only fitting that "our stone" be number 18.

When I walk by this marker, as I frequently do, I recall Shadow and his beloved antics.  He came to us in an unusual way.  He was a skinny, hungry stray kitten, who one cold wintry day, crawled under my dad's pickup truck while it was parked at the family foundry and laid on the engine to get warm.  My dad, upon starting the truck heard him yowling, and opened the hood to find himself looking into the eyes of his new friend.

The cold, hungry cat came home - where he was fed, kept warm, and healthy for the next 18 years.

And so we call this marker, "Shadow's Stone" and smile to ourselves when we see it.

Mile marker 25 was donated in the memory of my Mother's older brother - my Uncle John - who passed away on 23 Jun 2005 in Ridgecrest, Kern, California.  His grave is so far away, this marker serves as its surrogate for his sister and her family.

While the markers are just simply little bits of rock - they trigger many memories when I see them.

Have a Seat

Ah. Nice to take a load off.  It was a busy weekend - the weather was perfect - the company was so nice - and the food marvelous.  I need a quiet day at work to rest up a bit. :)

Bench in Chestertown's Fountain Park.