Chris Moore Interviewed Chuck Martin in Jones Mills (PA)

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CHRIS MOORE INTERVIEWED

CHUCK MARTIN IN JONES MILLS (PA)

Sal and Chuck Martin often attend Mello Mike in Ligonier, Pennsylvania, where they enjoy meeting with friends, dining on Ligonier Tavern food, and listening to music and readings by local musicians and writers. Often, they themselves read work that they’ve written.

However, on November 13^th they will not be attending Mello Mike. They will be sitting in the comfort of their living room, with neighbors Rock Foster and his wife, watching television.

And Chuck will be wondering who that “old guy” on the television is.

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Truth be known? It’s Chuck Martin himself.

Recently Chris Moore, host of Ch. 13-WQED television show Black Horizons, drove from Pittsburg to the tiny community of Jones Mills on Route 31 just east of Route 711.

Chuck is a person of interest because of a series of photographs he took on April 4, 1968—-the day after Rev. Martin Luther King was assassinated.

At the time, many major cities were in flames and rioting was rampant, according to Chuck.

He felt compelled to (to continue reading click on Chris Moore Was in Jones Mills (PA) to Interview Chuck Martin )

Pinto Man

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PINTO MAN

Mark Sliwa

     The television and VCR were on the blink. I’m a firm believer of selling things while they still work or move. A newspaper ad and I was $700 richer. 

     Three newspaper days later my brother, Brian, said, “Hey, look at this. A 1977 Alfa Romeo Alfetta GTV. And it’s only $700.” 

     God forbid keeping that money in my pocket. At the time, my brother and I shared an apartment in Raleigh, North Carolina and the vehicle for sale was only one town away. Being a mechanic, he convinced me to take a look.

     One should always be wary of vintage Italian cars. Remember what Fiat stands for:

A Beanery Writers Group Homage to Bob Sanzi

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A BEANERY WRITERS GROUP HOMAGE TO BOB SANZI

Beanery Writers Group

I looked for your car when I arrived at the June 24, 2010, Beanery Writers Meeting.

            I hadn’t heard…You were gone.

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     Bob, you left too soon. Some of us needed to learn more from you. It’s hard to believe that you only joined us on June 12, 2010. At your last meeting, June 10, 2011, you were so excited about the new car Nancy bought and allowed you to drive to the meeting.

      We all heard your gruff, commanding, voice, and experienced your unique bombastic manner, at the first Beanery Writers Group meetings you attended. Some of us questioned whether we could tolerate you. You were opinionated, certain you were right, and felt you had to talk and talk and talk to push your point, even after everyone had “gotten it.” You were so certain you were right.

     Your identity was enmeshed in cars—you were quite animated and willing to share a multitude of car stories. After all, you were a car guy who even amused us by turning a prompt on the Kentucky Derby into a car piece. You didn’t seem to understand that

Red, White and Blue Dreams

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RED, WHITE AND BLUE DREAMS

Diana Reh Hunt

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Red, white and blue dreams

born in sandbox games,

rocked to stars ‘n stripes lullabies

in cradles of freedoms to come.

Young hopes fly high on tire swings

when the dreamers’ smiles outshine the sun.

 

Red, white and blue dreams

come from family farm to

What Happened To Old-Fashioned Love?

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WHAT HAPPENED TO OLD-FASHIONED LOVE?

Fran Welts

     I’m reminded of the song by that title when having a conversation with a woman I’ll call Jane. We met at a cancer center in Pittsburgh. Our situations made both of us tired, just going along, but still enjoying the good times wherever we find them.
     As we waited in a very crowded room, she asked me why I was there. She told me how she had remarried at age seventy-three years old, just six months ago, after a long forty-five year marriage to her first husband. Joe, her husband now, had also had a long first marriage. They believed in marriage so after a short courtship, they wed.
     At this point there were several heads turning in our direction, many of them young—or young to us!! They had laptops, I-phones, I-pads, and whatever else is new and modern, and were busy typing or texting. But they paused long enough to listen. Like all of us, it’s human nature to listen when someone is telling a story.
     Jane explained that sixty-three days after they married Joe was diagnosed with cancer of the jaw and throat. He underwent removal of his lower jaw, and needed a trachea to breathe and a feeding tube to eat. He cannot close his mouth and he cannot speak.

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     Around the waiting room you could see

Memorial Day 2011

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MEMORIAL DAY 2011

Joe F. Stierheim

     The last Monday in May is the day set aside to remember those who died in the wars in which this nation has taken part. It is also for honoring the many others who survived those wars but gave of themselves to one degree or another when it was required of them.

I remember when I was young being introduced to relics and souvenirs of past wars. There were campaign ribbons and medals from the Civil War and photos of my relatives that had taken part in that struggle. World War I contributed

Let’s Get Dirty

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LET’S GET DIRTY

Sally Martin

     In our long years of competitions, Chas and I have amassed bushels of tee shirts. The most prized of these trophies is the pair that extols the virtues of playing in the mud. 

     We had run in cross country meets at Schenley Park in Pittsburgh, a lovely run. Cross country has ambiance. You run through fields and forests, it can be a jog in the woods.  We found one in Ebensburg and at that very simple run through fields and forests we found an ad for Lets Get Dirty at Slippery Rock State College (now University). When we arrived at the college, there was a trek through parking lots to a small ski hut building on the edge of a creek. Not Slippery Rock Creek, thank goodness.

        The participants were mostly a few of us sane adults and many wildly enthusiastic students. There were about six hundred who showed up to either laugh or compete. There were clowns, a group in kilts, and other groups in unusual but matching outfits that defied description.  

     Runners have things called “Fun Runs” but running is rarely fun.  Well, the one in Regent Square through Frick Park is pretty and tries hard with jazz bands and champagne.  But  Let’s Get Dirty was truly a producer of whoops, cheers, giggles, guffaws, and more cheers.

     But first, there was a run for the serious: it showed really good runners competing over the quite questionable course so we could see where they went and therefore opt in or out of the madness. The winners got precious few cheers. The crowd was waiting for us “Fun Run” types.

      The experienced participants had special preparation: duct tape.  

     Their shoes, not necessarily running shoes, were duct taped to

Vernal Full Moon Rising

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VERNAL FULL MOON RISING

Kathie Buchanan

March 19th, 2011, was a very special holiday. 

The moon rose to break night into day in equal proportions.

The evening was celebrated with like-minded loved ones.

Some consider a holiday such as this “Pagan”, but the Vernal Equinox has been celebrated for thousands of years by millions of people worldwide.

We give thanks as we usher in Spring. 

We pray for the new beginnings that Spring promises.

We reflect on our own pre-birth, and development in our mother’s womb,

and our journey…Where we are right now. 

We use corn, fire, tobacco, water, a crystal, a sacred pipe, song, dance, drums.

We use the symbols of the Four Directions, each with a color that represents the

Spiritual Paths. Red in the East, Yellow in the South, Black in

The Ghostly Hoosac Tunnel

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THE GHOSTLY HOOSAC TUNNEL

Kathleen Clark

“This ride into the tunnel is far from being a cheerful one. The fitful glare of the lamps upon the walls of the dripping cavern – the frightful noises that echo from the low roof, and the ghoul-like voices of the miners coming out of the gloom ahead, are not what would be called enlivening.” —The Hoosac Tunnel, Scribner’s, December 1870

     The ridges of the Berkshire Mountains, located in the Deerfield Valley, stretch across western Massachusetts. The Hoosac Tunnel located in North Adams and known as “the Bloody Pit,” winds through the mountain base. I was fascinated by the many first-hand accounts of ghostly hauntings that surround the tunnel‘s construction. It provided a difficult and troubled challenge to the men who worked it.     
     Almost every tunnel bored through the mountains during the early 19th century posed problems particular to its location. Starting at the East Portal side, barely ten feet into the proposed Hoosac route, the specially made seventy-ton steam-driven boring machine cut a perfect hole . . . then stopped forever. The workers resorted to hand-drills and gunpowder, but couldn’t exceed sixty feet a month on either end of the tunnel. Boring on the West Portal side, drills hit soft rock, mica schist and water resulting in a soupy mixture referred to as “porridge” and prevented further penetration.    
     Thus a second tunnel was begun immediately to the right of the abandoned tunnel, using the new compressed-air Burleigh Drill invented by Charles Burleigh of Fitchburg, Massachusetts. This four drill contraption that could be pulled along the tracks as the men worked, in tandem with the introduction of Nitroglycerine explosives, finally resulted in the tunnel’s completion in 1875. Although only 4.82 miles long, the Hoosac took an unprecedented

Train Up a Child

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TRAIN UP A CHILD

Fran

Scripture: Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it.

Reflection: It is 1980…

     “Dad, it’s Sunday. I need some sleep.”

     The voice of a young boy rang out loudly through the house in response to his father’s call to awaken, knowing what his father’s answer would be—it was always the same: get up, get dressed, and go to church.

     It is 2007…

     “Dad, it’s Sunday. I’m tired, let me sleep.”

     The man standing at the staircase bottom heard these words as he called to awaken his son. The memory of those same words he told his father in 1980 made him smile.

     The boy of 1980 had become a good father, faithful to his God and church, never failing to seek help through faith. Two hours after awakening his son, he watched the child don his robe and light the candles as acolyte at Sunday services. The young boy was proud, smiling. He told everyone