The "Music Is Hope!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading about Holocaust survivor, Saul Dreier, who formed a band to comfort others!  His story read....Music has the ability to crack open hearts, to change minds, to heal, to comfort.  When I was 89, I read about the concert pianist Alice Herz-Sommer, who had died at 110.  Like me, she was a Nazi concentration camp survivor.  And also like me, she had used music as a way through that terrible time.  After the war, she continued to play to try to heal hearts.  I felt that I needed to honor her in some way.  It came to me that I should organize a Holocaust survivor band to continue her work.  I told my wife, and she said I was crazy, too.  But,  I was very stubborn.  During World War II, I was sent to several concentration and work camps in Poland.  My whole family was kind, and I lived long.  There was a famous cantor in one of the camps with me, and he would sing Jewish songs.  And, in those moments of music, I found escape.  One day, I realized that he needed a beat, so I managed to get two metal spoons, and I drummed for him: put, put, put.  Almost every night, we would all gather and sing, even though we were starving and exhausted.  That is how I learned the drums.  When we were liberated, I was sent to a displaced person's camp in Italy, where there were actual instruments.  I played the drums for the people in the camp and for my own joy!  After I went to America, between work and raising a family, I didn't have time for music.  But, reading about Alice Herz-Sommer brought me back to the way music can reach hearts.  I bought some drums for my idea.  At first, my wife said, "Either the drums go or you go," but when you've been married that long, you fight for five minutes and make up 10 minutes later.  Through people at my temple in Florida, I found other survivors and their children.  Our first concert, in 2014, was at the temple.  We played Jewish, Polish, Hebrew and dancing music.  We got a standing ovation!  I felt like the sky had opened.  And my wife?  She said, "I live with you 51 years, and today you are my celebrity!"  In 10 years, we've played all over America including the White House, Israel, Canada, Brazil and Poland.  I will play for as long as I can, because music is life.  I am not interested in politics or taking sides.  My purpose in life is to get people to see that we are all one, we all sing the same song. -  This story is as told to Beth Levin.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The Winter Solstice Is On The Horizon

It was an ordinary day.  The winter solstice will be upon us this coming Saturday.  With it comes the shortest day and longest night of the year to the Northern Hemisphere - ideal conditions for holiday lights and warm blankets.  For those who would rather have more sunlight, you can try to make your way to the southern Hemisphere, where it is summer.  Or be patient: Starting Sunday, days will get a little bit longer in the Northern Hemisphere every single day until late June.  These annual changes in sunlight as the Earth revolves around the sun have been well known to humans for centuries.  Monuments such as Stonehenge in England and the Torreon at Peru's Machu Picchu were designed, in part, to align with solstices.  Here's what to know about how the Earth's march around the sun splits up the year.  As the Earth travels around the sun, it does so at an angle.  For most of the year, the Earth's axis is tilted either toward or away from the sun.  That means the sun's warmth and light fall unequally on the northern and southern halves of the planet.  The solstices mark the times during the year when the Earth is at its most extreme tilt toward or away from the sun.  This means the hemispheres are getting very different amounts of sunlight - and days and nights are at their most unequal.  During the Norther Hemisphere's winter solstice, the upper half of the Earth is tilted away from the sun, creating the shortest day and longest night of the year.  The winter solstice falls between Dec. 20 ad 23.  Meanwhile, at the summer solstice, the Northern Hemisphere is toward the sun, leading to the longest day and shortest night of the year.  This solstice fails between June 20 and 22.  During  the spring and fall equinoxes, the Earth's axis and its orbit line up so that both hemispheres get an equal amount of sunlight.  The word equinox comes from two Latin words meaning equal and night.  That's because on the equinox, day and night last almost the same amount of time --  though one may get a few extra minutes, depending on where you are on the planet.  The Northern Hemisphere's spring -- or vernal -- equinox can land between March 19 and 21, depending on the year.  Its fall - or autumnal - equinox can land between Sept. 21 and 24.  These are just two different ways to carve up the year.  Meteorological seasons are defined by the weather.  They break down the year into three-month seasons based on annual temperature cycles.  By that calendar, spring starts on March 1, summer on June 1, fall on Sept. 1 and winter on Dec. 1.  Astronomical seasons depend on how the Earth moves around the sun.  Solstices kick off summer and winter.  Equinoxes mark the start of spring and autumn.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

It Was "A 50-cent Holiday Miracle on Eighth Ave." Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading an article in my local newspaper titled "It was a 50-cent holiday miracle on Eighth Ave."  Story went like this... In 1955, I was an 11-year-old boy, one of four children living with my family in Sunset Park, Brooklyn.   My parents struggled to support us.  They kept track of every dime.  A week or so before Christmas, my sister, who was 8, and I decided to go window-shopping at a neighborhood mom-and-pop consignment store on Eighth Avenue.  It was in front of a bus stop.  We wanted to buy something for our mother, but we didn't have any money and weren't sure how to earn some.  We looked in the window and saw a beautiful serving platter - well, it was beautiful to us - made of tin or some other cheap material.  The price was 50 cents.  We talked about how we wished we had the money to buy it.  As we started to walk away, we saw two quarters land on the ground nearby.  Amazed, we picked them up.  We realized that a man we had seen standing at the bus stop must have dropped the quarters there for us.  We brought them over to him.  "They aren't mine," he said with a smile.  "They aren't ours either," we said.  Moments later, the bus came and he left us there with the two quarters.  So, we took both quarters into the store and bought the platter.  We "gift wrapped" it in a brown bag on Christmas Eve.  On Christmas morning our mom opened the "gift" and with tears in her eyes -- as well as in ours -- we hugged and kissed each other.  We were so happy and so blessed.  Merry Christmas, everyone. The author of this beautiful story, "Arnold Krakow" lives in nearby Manheim Township were I went to school for 12 years and taught school for another 35 years.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "Christmas Cookie Memories" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story titled Christmas Cookie Memories which was written by Wendy Schreiner.  Her story reminded me of years gone by when my brother and I would make cookies with our mom....and many years after that when my wife and children and I would do just about the same thing together.   Every Christmas for years and years, my mom, my brother and I would head into the kitchen and make a floury mess of memories while my dad was at work.  The different kinds of cookies we made included chocolate chip, oatmeal with cherries and raisins, M&M, thumbprint, Vermont maple, orange drop and brownie mound.  Of course, what Christmas cookie-baking adventure would be complete without cutout cookies?  My mom would mix up the cookie dough for the Kris Kringle cutout cookies, and once the cute cookies were cut using old-time cookie cutters and baked........the real mess began - the frosting and the decorating steps.  We had different-color frostings in small bowls, plus we had colored sugars, sprinkles and other fun colorful decorations.  The table looked like a disaster, and our fingers.....and, I'm sure, our faces.....were covered with frosting while our tummies were full of yummy homemade cookie goodness.  We were blessed to have these baking times.  I can still see the kitchen table clearly in my mind, like it was just yesterday.  Mom's collection of cookie cutters is now stored in a big old cardboard shoebox.  I think these cookie cutters are just awesome.  There are bright red plastic ones as well as old-fashioned metal ones.  I believe some of them were my grandmother's. Growing up, I remember using these very cookie cutters and having so much fun.  I loved to decorate the Christmas tree cookies with light green frosting and then shake on colorful decorations.  I also enjoyed decorating the Santa Claus cutout cookies.  Yes, there's nothing like baking cookies for the holidays.  The best part of all, of course, is sampling the cookies.....but not forgetting to leave plenty of cookies for Santa Claus!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

"The Angst Of 299" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Just got out of bed, and while still in my PJ's, opened the front door and into my entranceway drops my morning newspaper.  How's that for service?  My wife and I have been living at Woodcrest Villas in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, going on our third year.  And...one of my most memorable tales I tell my friends about the place is about getting my morning newspaper.  There is no need to immediately get dressed, since my next half-hour or so will be devoted to reading my morning newspaper and watching the morning news on my TV.  I should tell you that from time to time, the newspaper is at the end of our driveway, which means that my newspaper man is on vacation, but still doesn't mean I have to get dressed, yet!  Anyway...today's paper had a large photo on the front page which featured a woman bowling at 222 Dutch Lanes in Ephrata, PA.  The headline read...When Weidman got 10 strikes in a row a few years back, she remembers the nerves of approaching 300.  "I could not walk, I was so shaky," she said.  As you might have guessed...the front-page story was telling about someone who have rolled a 300 game and someone who was sharing their recollections of coming up just short of a perfect score.  The huge one-inch-high typed headline read..."THE ANGST OF 299."  A second, smaller sub-headline read... "Bowlers - some who have rolled a 300 game - share recollections of coming just short of a perfect score."  Story also began on the front page, but at the end of the short column of type, the reader was told to see---"BOWLING, page A20."  Naturally, that happens to be the "Sports Section" today.  A bit of the story from page 1, written by Andrew Kehe, reads...  The buzz in the bowling house was palpable.  In his first varsity match for Conestoga High, freshman Ryan Graham had strung together 11 strikes.  One more and he'd roll his first 300 game - on his 15th birthday, no less.  As always happens when a bowler is on the brink of greatness, a small crowd gathered around his lane.  Nerves firmly affixed, Graham took his ball off the rack, wiped it clean and aimed....His two-handed spinning release directed the ball within inches of the right gutter before the intense rotation snapped it back, left toward the pocket.  Than ... bang!  Are you ready for the next sentence in the paper??  A standing 7-pin stood defiantly in the corner, seemingly wagging its finger, as if to say "no-no" to Graham's perfecto.  What a crushing blow, right?  How do you go on after that? 299...are you kidding me?  Hopes and dreams dashed by one stubborn pin.  Or maybe not.  He decided that "OK, now I know it's possible, so let's go do it."  And...he did, just a few weeks later.  And...to top that off...he's had 57 more since.  Have you ever been bowling?  Ever roll a 300?  I bowled for most of my lifetime and I never have bowled a 300.  Yeah...I know not everyone is a great bowler!  I can attest to that fact!  My highest was a 258 and I was in Heaven that time!  My problem is that I don't go bowling all the time which is almost a necessity if you expect to get good at the sport.   And, I'm afraid that I never will get a 300 since being 80 years old and barely able to stride down the lane and release that heavy ball is never going to happen again.  But, I'm so happy to see someone achieve the best possible score that a bowler can roll...300!  So, for now...I will read the "Sports" section of my daily newspaper and hope to see someone has rolled a 300 once again.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.                 

The "Family Closing In On Quest To Visit All 50 States" Story

It was an ordinary day.  My family and I have been lucky enough to travel throughout the United States.  When my two girls were young, my husband did triathlons.  The first one was in St. Augustine, Florida.  The whole family went, and afterwards we visited Disney World.  Next, he competed in Ironman Lake Placid.  On the way there, we drove through Binghamton, New York, stopping at the city parks to ride the carousels.  Our daughters were 4 and 6.  And so, it became our tradition to turn his races into our vacation, by visiting different places along the way.  See, it was my goal to visit all 50 states during my lifetime.  My great-aunt had done that, and I wanted to follow in her footsteps.  Next, we went to Ironman, Louisville, stopping in Illinois to see the Abraham Lincoln sites, with my favorite being his presidential library.  Then it was Ironman Wisconsin in Madison, and we stopped on the way back in Indiana Dunes State Park.  My husband's last triathlon was Beach to Battleship, in the area of Wilmington, North Carolina.  When my husbands' triathlon days were over, I figured it was my turn to decide where to go on vacation - keeping in mind, of course, my goal to see all 50 states.  So in 2013, we drove to Yellowstone National Park, stopping in eight states that we had never been to before.  I wanted to say I was boots on the ground in each state.  Two highlights of that trip for me were the Henry Doorly Zoo and Aquarium in Omaha, Nebraska, and Mount Rushmore.  In 2016, we took the southern route to the Grand Canyon, going as far west as Nevada to visit friends.  We skipped Florida, since we'd been there before, and we skipped Louisiana, as it would have added two days to our trip.  We had fun at a flea market in Gallup, New Mexico, and enjoyed the views in Sedona, but the highlight of the vacation was visiting Antelope Canyon in Arizona.  In 2018, we toured the Northeast, stopping at Ellis 

Island along the way after being rained out the last time we tried to go.  My girls liked going to Boston.  I liked the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts.  My husband liked touring the Ben & Jerry's factory in Vermont.  In 2022, we went to the West Coast; we hadn't been to Washington or Oregon, and my girls hadn't been to California.  We liked the little towns along the coast, and the out-of-the-way beaches.  I would like to go back and spend more time there. A highlight for me was going to the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library in California, and seeing Air Force One.  So our list of states to visit has dwindled.  I've been to 48 states, as I was in Louisiana on a work-related trip.  My family has been to 47.  I want to go to Alaska next. My husband wants to go to Hawaii.  The girls are along for the ride.  Of course, my husband doesn't let me forget that we didn't visit Louisiana in 2016, and he is constantly saying he would want to stop in Myrtle Beach along the way.  So to appease him - and since he celebrated a big birthday this year - I told him in May that we would be going to Louisiana for vacation.  With our schedules, our vacation got pushed back to November.  I imagine it would be too cold to go in the water in Myrtle Beach in November.  Good thing we left last month for Hawaii.  We told my husband about our real plans right before the trip.  He was dumbfounded.  The author of this story lives in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

"Susquehanna Canoe Trips Require Caution and Skill" Story

The author of the following story, Clyde McMillan-Gamber, lives in nearby New Holland.  His story reads...  It was an ordinary day.  Reading about two small canoe trips on the Susquehanna River, one in early spring and the other in winter, several years ago!  The Susquehanna is treacherous, and care must be taken to be safe on it.  The first trip was the end of February, when ice broke on the Susquehanna and large chunks of it piled high downriver from Pequea.  Seeing an adventure, I paddled our 17-foot aluminum canoe out of the Pequea Creek and proceeded downstream toward the ice jam.  The day was warm and sunny, with a light breeze, as I paddled leisurely toward those heaps of ice.  A flock of several goldeneye ducks flew off the river ahead of me, and with wings whistling, veered around behind me and out of sight. Seeing a few channels of open water between mountains of ice, I paddled into one of those leads and immediately turned the canoe around in case I had to make a hasty exit from those mountains if the ice shifted.  Then I poured a cup of coffee and sat in the canoe to enjoy the river and ice scenery.  A couple groups of calling tundra swans flew swiftly upriver, probably to land on Lake Clarke, the backwater from Safe Harbor Dam on the Susquehanna at Washington Boro.  After about an hour of floating on the water amid hills of ice boulders and admiring the view and swans, I contentedly paddled out of that lead of water, up the river and into the mouth of the Pequea Creek.  There I loaded the canoe and went home, satisfied with my little trip on the Susquehanna.  My other canoe trip on the Susquehanna was early in December of another year.  The day was partly sunny, but cold, with a strong wind.  I was paddling downstream on the Conestoga River near Safe Harbor and saw the Susquehanna ahead.  I could see waves and white caps on the river and thought "anybody who goes out there today is crazy."  And so I did, without anymore hesitation.  I briskly paddled onto the Susquehanna from the Conestoga and proceeded rapidly downriver because of the southbound river current and the north wind pushing me strongly.  Along the way, I saw several ring-billed gulls struggling into the wind and little groups of resting black ducks and common merganser ducks on the river on the leeside of boulders to stay out of the wind and current.  After several minutes of racing downriver, I decided it was time to turn around and go back upriver to the Conestoga to load the canoe and go home.  I was kneeling in the middle of the canoe and bracing the sides with my knees, so I quickly turned that craft 180 degrees to headed upriver into the current and wind to the Conestoga.  I paddled hard for a few minutes, but saw I was getting nowhere.  I then decided to swing the boat around 180 degrees again and paddle downstream to the Pequea Creek to get off the river.  By going directly into or with the waves, the canoe is not likely to tip over.  But if waves hit it broadside, the craft could tip and dump me into the cold water.  Though I had confidence in my canoeing skills, I knew to turn the canoe quickly and carefully to avoid tipping.  And I did so, both times.  I paddled with the wind and river current downriver to the Pequea's mouth, docked and called my son to pick me up at Pequea, not Safe Harbor.  Again, I went home happy with my trip on the Susquehanna on a winter's day.  I have never taken a trip on the river with Clyde.  I know he is an experienced boatsman and would feel safe with him on the Susquehanna River, but I'm not a very good swimmer.  Therefore, my boat trips are usually on shallow waters where the current is calm and the weather is warm.  That is the only way I would travel by boat on the mighty Susquehanna.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Animals Understand Death Too! Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story dated 2018 when field researchers in Uganda came across an unusual sight: a female chimpanzee carrying an infant she had recently given birth to that was affected by albinism, an extremely uncommon condition in this species that gives their fur a striking white color.  The scientists were able to document the reactions of her mates when they first encountered the infant.  Instead of curiosity and care that newborns tend to elicit, the chimpanzees reacted with what looked like fear, with their fur on end and emitting the kinds of calls that signal potentially dangerous animals.  Shortly after, the alpha male, together with a few of his allies, killed the little one.  Upon his death, the behavior of the chimpanzees radically changed, and the apes, overtaken by curiosity, began to investigate the corpse, entranced by this being what smelled like a chimp, but looked so different.  This tragic story is one of the best pieces of evidence we have that chimpanzees can understand death.  The key here lies in their shift in attitude.  What at first was perceived as a threat, transformed into a fascinating object.  It was as though the chimps had processed that the unusual animal could no longer hurt them.  This is precisely what understanding death means: grasping that a dead individual can no longer do what they could when they're alive.  Some scientists who study animals' relations to death might disagree with this conclusion.  Understanding death, they might argue, implied comprehending the absolute finality of it, its inevitability, its unpredictability, and the fact that it will affect everyone, including oneself.  These scientists would be in the grip of what I call intelletual anthropocentrism: the assumption that the only way of understanding death is the human way, that animals either have a concept of death equivalent to the average adult human's - or none at all.  This bias affects the field known as comparative thanatology, the study of how different animals deal with and understand death.  But it couldn't be further from the truth.  Nor is it the only bias that affects the field.  What I call emotional anthropocentrism is the idea that animals' reactions to death are only worthy of our attention when they appear human-like.  This bias leads researchers to look for manifestations of grief in animals; famous examples include the story of Tahlequah, the orca who carried her dead baby for 17 days and over 1,000 miles, or Segaira, the gorilla who attempted to suckle it's dead mother's breast despite already having been weaned.  Don't get me wrong: animal grief is real.  However, if we're looking only for mourning behavior, we may be missing most of the picture.  Think back/ to the chimps.  They weren't mourning the baby's death.  But this did not detract from their understanding of what had happened.  Grief is not the only signal of an understanding of death.  In fact, there are many ways of emotionally reacting to the realization that someone died that doesn't involve grieving.  You might react with joy if, for instance, you inherited a large sum of money.  You might instead react with anger, if the deceased owed you money that you're now never going to get back.  Or you might be totally indifferent, if you didn't know the person or they meant nothing to you.  Of course, all of these reactions are taboo in our societies, and we wouldn't publicly admit to having them.  But this doesn't mean that they're not possible.  And crucially, they shouldn't mean that you haven't properly understood what happened.  The polar bear that finally manages to catch a seal might understand death just as well as the heartbroken monkey mother, even though the former thinks of it as a gain rather than a loss.  Our preconceived notions have prevented us from seeing that they are many more ways of reacting to death than what is considered politically correct in our society.  In fact, an understanding of death, instead of being a complex intellectual achievement, is actually quite easy to acquire.  If we manage to get past our own all too human biases, we will see that the possible meanings of death are more diverse than we will ever know.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.       

Christmas With Andy Williams

Each December, from 1962 to 1972, watching a holiday special on TV that featured singer Andy William and his family was a great way to get into the Christmas spirit.  You always knew you would hear standards like Sleigh Ride, White Christmas, and I'll Be Home for Christmas, and beloved sacred carols like O Holy Night and Ave Maria.  During those years, Andy also released three best-selling Christmas albums.  He was known to many as "Mr. Christmas" because of his devotion to celebrating "the most wonderful time of the year.'  Born in 1927 in Wall Lake, Iowa, Andy was welcomed by three older brothers, Bob, Don and Dick.  under their father's tutelage, the four began singing in church when they were very young, learning to sing in perfect harmony.  In 1938, when Andy was 11, the four siblings formed a quartet known as The Williams Brothers.  They did so well that they had a radio show in the Midwest.  In 1943, the family moved to California, and in 1944, the brothers sang backup for Bing Crosby on Swinging' on a Star, Bing's hit song from the movie Going My Way, and they appeared uncredited in several movie musicals.  After serving during World War II, The Williams Brothers reunited and became backup singers and dancers for radio star Kay Thompson (better known now for her role in Funny Face with Audrey Hepburn in 1957 and as the writer of 1950s children's book series Eloise), and they had a huge success in Las Vegas.  In 1949, the act broke up, but they reunited for a tour from 1951 to 1953.  After that, the Williams brothers went their separate ways professionally, as the older brothers were tired of touring and wanted to settle down.  Thompson continued to be an influence in Andy's life, writing songs and arrangements for his solo career.  Andy was a regular on Tonight Starring Steve Allen on NBC from 1954 to 1957, singing in 276 episodes of the live late-night show.  During that same time, in 1954, Andy signed a contract with Cadence Records and had several Top Ten hits, including Are You Sincere? (1985), The Village of St. Bernadette (1959), and Lonely Street (1959).  In 1962, he was asked to sing the theme song from the 1961 movie Breakfast at Tiffany's, starring Audrey Hepburn and George Peppar, at the Academy Awards.  With over 18 million viewers watching, Andy performed Moon River, composed by Henry Mancini with lyrics by Johnny Mercer that evening.  Now signed with Columbia Records, Andy had already recorded the album Moon River and Other Great Movie Themes, which was released the same day the Oscars were televised.  The album remained on the charts for three years, peaking at No. 3.  Though he had had a successful show business career for many years, his performance that evening and the subsequent hit song made Andy Williams a bona fide star.  The Andy Williams Show premiered on NBC in September 1962, and in December the first of his many Christmas specials aired.  Edward Pool and George Wyle wrote It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year especially for Andy, and it became a staple on his Christmas shows through the years.  Billboard rated Andy's original version of the song No. 5 in the top 10 Christmas songs ever recorded.  The brothers appeared more than 20 times in various Andy Williams programs and were a staple on his Christmas specials.  Between 1973 and 1982, Andy produced several more Christmas specials on TV.  Out of the 43 studio, compilation and live albums that Andy recorded over a span of 56 years, eight were Christmas albums, with 1963's Andy Williams Christmas Album being the first.  A year after it was released, it was certified gold for selling over 500,000 copies.  Besides the success of his single It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year from his first album, in 1965, his Merry Christmas Album and Merry Christmas records were eventually certified platinum for sales over 1 million each.  In 1992, Andy had The Moon River Theater built in Branson, Mo., where he contiued his traditional Christmas specials until his last performance in 2011.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Two Kinds of Christmases

It was an ordinary day.  I was raised during the 1940s in Lincoln Park, Michigan which is a suburb of Detroit.  My dad always said, "Michigan has winter and July."  We had our share of snow in the long, cold winter, and mosquitoes and lightening bugs in the summer.  At our house, we kids were always sent out on some errand on Christmas Eve.   Upon returning, we were informed that we had "just missed Santa" and "Look at the presents Santa left!" We never believed Mom, of course, but we let her have her fun.  In 1950, when I was 9 years old, my 12-year-old brother, Art, and I and two friends were sent out on Christmas Eve to sing carols in the neighborhood.  The weather was mild that night with so many stars that they provided a glowing atmosphere for a special experience.  Everything was quiet and still with just a little snow on the ground.  As we sang our carols, a soft, gentle snow began to fall, and we could feel the Christmas spirit in the air.  It was a perfect, magical Christmas Eve - just like in the movies.  It was like a fantasy!  The spirit of that holy night was felt deeply and never forgotten.  That same Christmas, when we came home after caroling, there was a pile of white figure skates under the tree for me - it was just what I wanted.  Detroit was extremely cold that New Year's Day when my dad took me to a large park some distance from home where there was a frozen pond especially for skaters. I was so excited. I skated around and around that pond and counted my falls while I learned.  I fell a memorable 30 times in 30 minutes, but it was so much fun!  Then the icy weather chased us home.  Art got black hockey skates to play hockey with his friends on local ponds.   One day he took my white figure skates and found that he could maneuver much better with them, so he kept asking to borrow them.  No way!  I didn't want scuffs on my new white skates.  We didn't know then that it was our last winter in Michigan.  We moved to San Diego, California the following summer, in July 1951.  Dad was from a dairy farm in southern Indiana and had lived in Detroit for 14 years, mostly working for the Ford Motor Company through WWII.  He got the flu that last winter in 1950 and said that now was the time to leave Michigan.  He yearned for warmer climates.  Our house was sold in June, and we packed our home-built trailer for California.  Mom kept delaying our departure, so we remained awhile with her family in Ludington, Mich., to say our goodbyes.  We stayed there for the Fourth of July parade, but it was so cold that the girls on the floats, dressed in bathing suits, were covered with goose bumps.  We wore our heavy winter coats.  That day Dad declared, "That's it!  We are leaving tomorrow"  And we did!  Michigan had winter for sure, but sometimes it seemed like it didn't even have July.  I never got to use my skates again, but I never forgot that special time.  We drove West across the country through farms, fields, plains and towns, and across rivers, mountains and deserts.  My mother had a strong fear of heights, so the hardest part for her was crossing the Sierras at Donner Pass.  We arrived in Glendale, California at Mom's brother's house about 10 days later, just in time for the birth of their third child.  After another 10 days, Dad had a job in San Diego with the aerospace industry.  We settled in the eastern foothills of San Diego County, built a house, and adapted to a whole new world that had mountains, sunshine, warmth, a horse and even an ocean.  Wow!  And we thrived. After I was grown and married, in the 1960s and '70s, we celebrated Christmas Day in our home with our two daughters, often with their many aunts, uncles and cousins in attendance.  It was usually rather balmy, so we warmed up the pool to enjoy afternoon swimming for kids and adults alike.  That generations's experiences were quite different from my early memories of the world of Michigan snow.  But life in California sun was also great, and it provided many different memories for all of us.  I am grateful that I had the best of both worlds.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

CANCER - Breakthrough: AI-Assisted Colonoscopies Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story about Cancer Breakthrough: AI-Assisted Colonoscopies.  Story read:  John Lloyd put off colon cancer screening for years.  When he finally had his first colonoscopy, at age 56, it found a tumor the size of a lemon.  "I was lucky," he says.  "It was stage 3 cancer that hadn't spread beyond some lymph nodes."  Chemotherapy, radiation and surgery wiped out his cancer.  Now Lloyd, 72, president of an electrical contracting firm in Durham, North Carolina, gets colonoscopies every three years.  But, his most recent colonoscopy came with a sign-tech twist: artificial intelligence to help spot polyps that can become cancers.  "It's like having another set of eyes," says Neeraj Sachdevaa, M.D., of RMG Gastroenterology in Raliegh, North Carolina.  "It allows you to do a more meticulous exam."  A traditional colonoscopy relies on the eyes of the doctor, yet some types of abnormal growths in the colon can be hard to spot.  GI Genius from Medtronid, the first AI-asisted colonoscopy system available in the the U.S., got FDA marketing authorization in 2021; others are coming out.  The computer-aided system swiftly analyzes in real time the high-definition video images from a doctor's endoscope (the tiny camera used to examine the interior walls of the colon during a colonoscopy).  Potential trouble spots are highlighted in a green-edged box on the monitor viewed by the doctor.  It's estimated that in 2024, 152,810 people in the U.S. willl be diagnosed with colorectal cancer; 53,010 will die, according to the American Cancer Society.  Colonoscopy lowers cancer risk by finding precancels and removing them, Sachdeva says.   AI has made colonoscopies even more accurate: In one study, the technology boosted the discovery of growths from 33 to 42 percent by doctors who were considered experts at performing colonoscopies and analyzing results, finding early cancers and reducing the rate of future tumors.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

Chipmunk Christmas Story

It was an ordinary day.  For one special night during that winter of 1963, Christmas Eve; our beds were moved back upstairs and piled high with extra blankets to await the arrival of Santa during the night.  Before we went to bed that night, I remember watching the blue flames under the oil heater and worrying about how Santa would get into the house.  Luckily, still believing in magic, explanations were easy for a 6-year-old girl, even though my dad, prankster that he was, had warned me that when Santa came, he was going to pull on his beard just for fun.  Before heading upstairs that night, I remembered my mom, my sister and me enjoying our annual Christmas Eve tradition of snuggling on the couch to admire the big colorful bulbs on the tree and listening to Christmas songs on the record player - songs like Gene Autry's Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.  These were my favorites.  We would sit there until I got sleepy.  Then off to bed we went.  Sleeping soundly that night, I was unaware of the drama that had unfolded between by brother and my dad after I had gone to bed.  All I knew was that around 4:40 a.m. Christmas morning, my sister and I awoke to the strands of music floating up the stairs.  It was Alvin and the Chipmunks singing "The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late).  Excited and totally unaware of the early hour, we ran downstairs to see what Santa had brought for us.  Of course, I was oblivious to my brother's sour disposition all day as I excitedly played my record over and over on my very own, Santa-delivered record player.  I kept on playing the record for many days to come, which I now know must have felt like having salt rubbed into a raw wound, as it was the record player that was the source of the Christmas Eve drama.  Apparently, when my bother learned of the record player on Christmas Eve, he demanded that the music had better not wake him up too early the next morning.  Not to be told what he could do in his own home, my dad got up extra early the next morning, put the record on, and cranked the volumn all the way up, waking the entire household.  Today, some 60 years later, as I occasionally pass the small house where we used to live, I see no remnants of the family that lived and loved there.  But, my memories remain strong and feel as real now as they did back then.  That record player is long gone, but I still have that special record from so long ago - and this wonderful funny memory of that long-ago "Chipmunk Christmas."  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

"Polarization" is the 'word of the year' story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading in my morning newspaper that the results of the 2024 U.S. presidential election rattled the country and sent shock waves across the world - or were cause for celebration, depending on who you ask.  Is it any surprise then that the Merrian-Webster word of the year is "polarization"?  "Polarization means division, but its a very specific kind of division," said Peter Sokolowski, Merriam-Webster's editor at large, in an exclusive interview with the Associated Press ahead of Monday's announcement.  "Polarization means that we are tending toward the extremes rather than toward the center."  The election was so divisive, many American voters went to the polls with a feeling that the opposing candidate was an existential threat to the nation.  According to AP VoteCast, a survey of more than 120,000 voters, about 8 in 10 Kamala Harris voters were very or somewhat concerned that Donald Trump's views - but not Harris' - were too extreme, while about 7 in 10 Trump voters felt the same way about Harris - but not Trump.  The Merriam-Webster entry for "polarization" reflects scientific and metaphorical definitions.  It's most commonly used to mean "causing strong disagreement between opposing factions or groupings."  Merriam-Webster, which logs 100 million page views a month on its site, chooses its word of the year based on data, tracking a rise in search and usage.  Last year's pick was "authentic."  This year's comes as large swaths of the U.S. struggle to reach consensus on what is real.  "It's always been important to me that the dictionary serve as a kind of neutral and objective arbiter of meaning for everybody," Sokolowski said.  "It's a kind of backstop for meaning in an era of fake news, alternative facts, whatever you want to say about the value of a word's meaning in the culture."  "Polarization" extends beyond political connotations.  It's used to highlight fresh cracks and deep rifts alike in pop culture, tech trends and other industries.  All the scrutiny over Taylor Swift's private jet usage?  Polarizing.  Beef between rappers Kendrick Lamar and Drake?  Polarizing.  The International Olympic Committee's decision to strip American gymnast Jordan Chiles of her bronze medal after the Paris Games?  You guessed it: polarizing.  Other top words were "demure," "fortnight," "totality," "resonate," "allusion," "weird," "cognitive," "pander" and - consistently one of the most looked up since it was the first word of the year in 2003 - "democracy."  

'Like two teenagers in love': Lancaster County couple who divorced in 1975 to remarry!

It was an ordinary day.  Fay Gable – back when she was growing up around Denver, Pennsylvania, as Fay Shober – first knew Robert Wenrich as her older brothers’ buddy.  “He was their best friend,” she said. "And he told them that he was going to marry me someday."  He did, on Nov. 10, 1951.  The couple later divorced in 1975.  They each married someone else, and each were widowed.  Now, Robert and Fay have married once again....to each other....as of yesterday! 

Fay and Robert showing an old photo of themselves.

Planning the big day has been Carol Smith of Reamstown, the youngest daughter of a duo who went swimming and ice skating at Greenville Creek during Harry S. Truman’s presidency. She’s enjoyed seeing her parents hanging out more and more over the past year.  “They’re like two teenagers in love. They do everything together,” Smith said. “He said, ‘She was the first love of my life. I never thought I’d get her back. And now that I did, I’m not wasting any time.’”  At his age, he can’t afford to, Smith said. Her father turns 94 two days before the wedding. His once-again betrothed is 89.  “I think we’ll be good now for the next couple years,” Wenrich said.  The pair declined to discuss reasons for their mid-’70s parting of ways.

Playing cards together
It’s not their style.  “It’s like my dad says: Why hold onto that stuff that makes you upset? Leave it go. Don’t keep reliving that,” Smith said. “Too many people these days do that. They form a wall and don’t ever get past it. And the kids suffer.”  Smith said she and her siblings were fortunate on that front.  “For us? These guys would go to church with us and sit in the same pew,” she said. “They would both go to the grandkids’ birthday parties. We’ve always been a family. And now that they both are widowed, they’ve found their way back to each other.”  Originally, the couple planned to handle their second union at a justice of the peace. But Smith and others convinced them to accept something more befitting of their sweet story. That did mean Smith had to hustle to make everything happen in three weeks, in time for the one date Denver’s Bear Mill Estate happened to have available. “When she called me (on Nov. 11) and said, ‘Yeah, I think we’re going to get married,’ I had the venue and the pastor within the first hour,” Smith said. “And then everything else has just been falling into place.”  Hydrangeas and white roses will go on the table and a corsage and boutonniere on the couple. Mother-daughter nails are getting done on Saturday.

The new "old" bride wearing her new ring.

The bride’s dress is sleeveless with a jacket. It’s an ecru little number from Boscov’s. “It’s a lot nicer than her first dress,” Smith said. The one her mother wore 73 years ago was brown and far from fancy. There aren’t any pictures of their first wedding. That happened under a tree in a backyard belonging to the family of a woman a brother had recently wed. “He got married, and then I found out we were having a child,” Gable said. “And we got married two weeks after that. My parents had two weddings in, like, a month’s time.”  They handled that news pretty well, Gable added.  “We lived with my parents for a while, even until after our son (David Wenrich) was born,” she said. “And then we moved up beside his parents, just on top of the hill.”  Early on, she worked in a butcher shop before switching to nursing – a career path Smith followed. Wenrich made hosiery at a Denver knitting mill.  “Then I went into painting and paper hanging,” he said. “Things worked out good for me.”  David took over his father’s business when the elder Wenrich was ready to retire. In the early years, Fay would sometimes go with Robert to help with wallpaper. They’ve done a lot of work side by side. Chores even played a part in them getting together in the first place.  Fay’s family was large. One of her jobs was to empty the water from the washing machine on laundry days. Robert would often show up to help. Smith chuckled at that detail.  “See, I’m learning things I didn’t even know,” she said.  Husband-wife date nights weren’t an option back then. The couple never made it to a movie.  “We were busy raising four children,” Gable said. “But we’re having fun now.”  They particularly enjoy trying their luck at Hollywood Casino Morgantown in Berks County.  “The more we were together, the more we realized that we’re happy to be together,” she said.  They both like playing cards at home. A game called Hasenpfeffer is a particular favorite.  “People might have not wanted to go through what we went through before we got to this point,” Gable said. “But I’m really glad I’m here now.”  About 80 people will be at their wedding. Most of them are family, including two stepsons, Mike and Tom Gable, who Fay gained via her late husband, Don, whom she lost two years ago after 42 years of marriage. Wenrich was married to Carol Shultz for 24 years and has been widowed for nine.  Some generational photos on Sunday’s agenda will include the engaged couple’s four children together (David Wenrich, Sandy Wenrich, Kathy Weinhold and Smith) plus 14 grandchildren, 14 great-grandchildren and two (twins) great-great grandchildren.  The DJ will spin the bride-to-be’s requests for artists like Fats Domino and Ray Charles. The couple’s first dance will be to the groom’s instrumental favorite — “The Last Date” by Floyd Cramer.  These are the kind of details that Smith’s coworkers at Eden Park Pediatric Associates are hanging on — quizzing her daily about plans she’s locked in with the assistance of her daughter, Amber. Even strangers are offering best wishes to her parents as their story makes social media rounds.  “They’ll go to the grocery store and people are recognizing them,” Smith said.  That’s thanks, in large part, to a picture that Parkhill Jewelry posted when the couple was handling ring business at that Ephrata shop.  Their story was told more than once Nov. 30 at the casino where the bride-to-be had a bachelorette bash. The crown and sash she sported drew quite the attention from folks.  “They could tell that I’m no spring chicken,” Gable said. “But they loved the story, and it was congratulations all around.”  That’s been typical over the past couple weeks, Smith said.  “It brings people to tears,” she said. “And they all just say that’s what they need to hear.”  Too many of today’s stories are sad ones, Smith said, adding that people are craving uplifting news.  “And it’s the perfect time of year for it,” she said. “I keep saying I don’t have to watch any Hallmark movies because I’m living one.”  And. . . I'm so glad that I will be able to publish this story on my blog for the world to read.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

The "A Very Unusual Merry Christmas Story" To You And Your Family From The Woods' Household" Stry

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story in my Sunday News that was in the "I Know A Story" column.  Stories must be true and written by the author and must be told in 600 words or less.  Today's story was written by a fellow named Arnold Krakow who happened to be the same age as I am and shared some of the same things that I did when I was a young boy living near the train station in Lancaster, PA.  Story began with ....... In 1955, I was an 11-year-old boy, one of four children living with my family in Sunset Park, Brooklyn.  My parents struggled to support us.  They kept track of every dime.  A week or so before Christmas, my sister, who was 8, and I decided to go window-shopping at a neighborhood mom-and-pop consignment store on Eighth Avenue.  I was in front of a bus stop.  We wanted to buy something for our mother, but we didn't have any money and weren't sure how to earn some.  We looked in the window and saw a beautiful serving platter - well, it was beautiful to us - made of tin or some other cheap material.  The price was 50 cents. We talked about how we wished we had the money to buy it.  As we started to walk away, we saw two quarters land on the ground nearby.  Amazed, we picked them up.  We realized that a man we had seen standing at the bus stop must have dropped the quarters there for us.  We brought them over to him.  "They aren't mine," he said with a smile.  "They aren't ours, either," we said.  Moments later, the bus came and he left us there with the two quarters.  So we took both quarters into the store and bought the platter.  We "gift wrapped"it in a brown bag on Christmas Eve.  On Christmas morning our mom opened the "gift" and with tears in her eyes - as well as in ours - we hugged and kissed each other.  We were happy and so blessed.  Merry Christmas, to everyone!  The author of the story lives in Manheim Township where my wife and I had lived most of our married lifetime until we moved to Woodcrest Villas a little over three years ago.  The title of the "I Know A Story" story from the newspaper today was "It was a 50-cent holiday miracle on Eighth Avenue."  The picture that was attached to the story showed a pie on a pie plate that was decorated with a Santa.  I loved the story and thought you too might enjoy it this time of year.  My only comment I might have about the story today was that the picture showed Santa sitting in the flower pot, but the flower pot seems to be sitting sideways with the flowers running from side to side.  Not that it matters....but it just seemed rather unusual to have Santa in the center of a pie plate sitting sideways on the flower pot.  Oh, well.....It's Christmas......so does it really matter anyway?  Merry Christmas to all of you reading this story and I hope you also have a Happy New Year.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

The "Brain Zapping" Story

It was an ordinary day.  My wife and I frequently have difficulty recalling names and recent events.  Often, the conversation goes .....  "What was the name of that guy we met at the mall? ... "What was the name of that restaurant we ate at yesterday? ....  "What were we watching on Channel 8 last night?  Yet, we can easily remember the name of our elementary school teachers or our Grandmother's phone number when we were eight years old.  I still remember where to send four Cheerios box tops and 25 cents to receive  the whistling ring that saved the life of 1950s radio cowboy star Tom Mix when he whistled for his horse, Tony: Tom Mix, Box 808, St. Louis, Missouri.  Forgetting the name of someone you just met, misplacing keys, or having trouble remembering directions once in a while - these memory slips can happen at any age.  As we get older, though, we may wonder whether these slips signal a more serious problem, such as dementia and Alzheimer's disease.  Forgetfulness is often associated with a decline in cognition, which can have a serious impact on a person's ability to conduct activities of daily living, such as interacting with friends and colleagues, managing medications, making financial decisions, scheduling activities, and navigating the complexities of daily life.  As the global population continues to age, the prevalence of cognitive decline and dementia is expected to rise, which presents significant challenges for healthcare systems, economies, and societies worldwide, and exerts considerable personal, social, and economic costs on individuals and families.  Developing and providing innovative, safe, and effective therapies and treatments for our aging population is a pressing need.  Neuroscience has made substantial progress indetifying the brain circuits and networks that underpin learning and memory.  New research shows that rhythmic activity in the brain may be key to storing memories.  Reinforcing those activities artificially may protect or even enhance memory for older adults in an inexpensive and sustainable way.  In one recent study, 150 people (ages 65-88) received noninvasive electrical brain stimulation for 20 minutes over four consecutive days, while researchers read to them a list of words.  They then tested participants' immediate recall of the words, as well as their memory of them one month later.  The stimulation produced boosts in recalling the words two to four days later, as well as one month later.  The scientists found that applying extremely weak high-frequency electrical current safely and non-invasively to the front part of the brain  selectively improved long term memory, without changing short-term memory, while applying the same kind of specialized alternating current farther back in the brain at a low frequency selectively improved short-term memory without changing long-term memory.  Thus, transcranial (across the skull) stimulation, depending on its location and frequency, could improve either short-or long-term memory because of the brain's ability to re-form and develop new neural connections throughout an individual's life.  Before we all run to the hardware store for wires and generators to stimulate our brains, more extensive controlled trials are needed to replicate these results in larger and diverse populations and evaluate the long-term effects and safety.  More research will also help determine the optimal parameters for stimulation to endure the longest lasting and most substantial benefits.   However, these preliminary results offer hope to memory-impaired  older populations worldwide.  Oh yeah, I remember now - we were watching Gregory Peck in "To Kill a Mockingbird" after we ate a delicious dinner at My Neighbor's Grill last night.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  PS.......I am 80 years old and my wife is....well.... much younger than I am and we both can remember what I just wrote about in this story...even after reading it two days ago.  Could you do that?  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.