The "What Kind Of Day Will You Have Today? Story

It was an ordinary day.  Woke up early, excited over all I get to do before the clock strikes midnight.  I have responsibilities to fulfill today.  My job is to choose what kind of day I am going to have.  Today I can complain because the weather is rainy, or I can be thankful that the grass is getting watered for free.  Today I can feel sad that I don't have more money, or I can be glad that my finances encourage me to plan my purchases wisely and guide me away from waste.  Today I can grumble about my health, or I can rejoice that I am alive.  Today I can lament over all that my parents didn't  give me when I was growing up, or I could feel grateful that they allowed me to be born.  Today I can cry because roses have thorns, of I can celebrate that thorns have roses.  Today I can mourn my lack of friends, or I can excitedly embark upon a quest to discover new relationships.  Today I can whine because I have no job to go to, or I can shout for joy because I have a job to do if I care to do so.  Today stretches ahead of me, waiting to be shaped.  And, here I am, the sculptor who gets to do the shaping.  What today will be like is up to me.  I get to choose what kind of day I will have!  So...dear friends, choose wisely, for today will be gone quicker than we can imagine.  And, it can never be brought back to us...no matter how hard we try to make it return.  Life will go on and it's up to us as to how we will live it.  Make it the best day you ever had in your life!  You know you can do so if you try your hardest!  Make it an extraordinary day as I try to do each and every day!!  As for me.... well, it was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "Study of Quaker Benches Yields A Revolution Of Styles" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a column in my local newspaper written by "The Scribbler," best known as Jack Brubaker titled "Study of Quaker benches reveals evolution of style."  He began with... "A bench is a bench is a bench.  Until you begin looking very closely at a bench.  Until you compare one bench with similar but subtly different benches.  Until you realize benches tell something about the people who made them and the people who sat on them."  A fellow by the name of Philip Zimmerman, who is a Lancaster-based museum and decorative arts consultant, has spent months studying the plain, unpainted benches at the Lancaster (Quaker) Friends Meetinghouse which is located at 110 Tulane Terrace in East Hempfield Township.  Jack wrote that Philip said, "This is a veritable museum of benches.  These benches have a lot of stories to tell.  We just have to start listening."  The meeting house was built in 1955 and is a relatively new meetinghouse, constructed relatively late in the history of Quaker meetings, and collected all of its benches from older meetinghouses, primarily in Chester and Delaware counties, that no longer needed them.  As a result, Lancaster has the greatest variety of benches, and some of the oldest, of any Quaker meeting.  He knows of no other meetinghouse that owns benches from such a wide area.  The samples include seven different groups of benches and four single benches representing two centuries of history.  For a furniture historian, studying this collection is something like an art historian discovering a group of fine paintings by various artists that have never been cataloged.  Mr. Zimmerman wrote his Ph.D. dissertation on 18th-and early 19th-century meetinghouses of all kinds in New Hampshire.  So, when the Lancaster Quakers asked him to examine their local benches, he quickly took on the task.  He found that the earliest of the benches at the Friends Meetinghouse dated back to the 1750s, and were austere compared with the most recent ones.  Most have been altered and many were purchased in the 1950s.  Mr. Zimmerman provided approximate dates of the original benches and has identified a pattern of woodworking that points to individual craftsmen for the seven different groups they have on location.  Most early American church benches have raveling plank seats and backs.  

Mr. Zimmerman shows a bench at Friends Meetinghouse.
The 1756 bench originally had four legs; but the legs had been
removed and another solid end was placed on either side.

Unlike standard pews, these benches were not bolted to the floor.  They could be arranged and rearranged, if necessary.  Today, the meetinghouse benches form a square.  Most benches are made of tulip poplar and yellow pine.  They are functional, with little ornamentation.  Some have dates while others have graffiti carved into them.  An American Eagle carving is particularly interesting.  Three benches are made of tulip poplar and yellow pine.  They are functional, with little ornamentation.  Two groups of four benches once stood on rounded legs.  A carpenter sawed off the legs and added more conventional bench ends and backs.  But, there is much more to this than woodworking and reworking.  "We're looking at a history of human comfort in these things," Zimmerman said.  For example, several of the benches have extensions on the font of the seats to support more of the sitter's thighs.  Some were built with footrests for people sitting in benches behind.  Others have accommodations for cushions.  "There's a human history quality to this stuff that I find very persuasive," notes Zimmerman.  Zimmerman has spoken to the Quaker congregation about the benches.  He has written a lengthy essay.  A book may be in the works.  Mr. Zimmerman's wife is a retired Franklin & Marshall history professor and refers to her husband's obsession as "benching".  How clever!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "One Final Visit To "TollBooth Antiques" Story---BUT WAIT....There is MORE TO THIS STORY!!!

It was an ordinary day.  Reading my Sunday News when I came upon a story titled "Antiquing Gives Objects Of Past New Life."  Story dealt with the Tollbooth Antiques building in nearby Columbia, Pennsylvania that recently was destroyed by fire.  Story was written by Brenne Sheehan.  Began with:  Antique stores bring me a particular kind of comfort.  Whether it's the retrofuturistic Space in downtown Lancaster, the kitschy Pennsylvania Dutch haven of the Strasburg Antique Market or the fascination artifacts from Indigenous tribes at the Turqouoise Bar Emporium in Elizabethtown, I can always find vintage and handmade relics to get lost in.  It is a love I attribute to my father.  We visited plenty of antique stores in our adventures around the East Coast to find hand-carved decorative canoes for the mantle, incense burners and new chairs for our living room.  He taught me to find love in the preloved, from thrift clothes to vintage books.  One of the places we visited together was Tollbooth Antiques - the Columbia Mecca for antiques with two floors and more than 50 vendors that had a major fire July 18.  My heart goes out to the vendors, the Doolittle's (the owners), and Columbia Borough as they navigate the aftermath of the fire.  The first time I went to Tollbooth Antiques, I was around 10 years old.  A little collector of Hot Wheels, state park quarters and Beanie Babies, I was really coming into my love of knickknacks and other pointless, maximalist objects.  I made up the case for a $4 raccoon coin bank that has sat on the bookshelves of two bedrooms since then.  It even traveled up to my dorm in upstate New York when I left for college.  My dad and I have frequented Tollbooth every few years or so to search for new finds.  While their premise, like any business, is to sell merchandise, I've never felt a particular discomfort  leaving without buying anything.  As you walk through the 40,000-square-foot warehouse, friendly vendors will talk to you for hours about the historical significance of a mahogany bedside table as you lose yourself in their anecdotes and passion for objects of the past.  In a way, it was like a museum - it held artifacts, artwork and breathing  history.  Unlike a museum, all of the history was accessible.  You were encouraged to buy things and take trinkets home with you, making it a part of your space.  Not to mention it can be cheap, which is always attractive to a broke college student like me.  Last weekend, I was planning a trip to Tollbooth for the first time in a few years when I saw the Friday morning news.  It was heartbreaking.  For the first time, I saw the faces behind some of the booths where I sourced my collections of vintage spice canisters, where my dad bought the coffee table for our childhood home, where I bought my favorite leather jacket.  Suddenly, these objects that I had, became personified relics of these vendors' livelihoods: their incomes, their passions, their collections.  Sometimes, when antiquing with Dad, I'd turn over a price tag on an item I loved, gasping at a three, sometimes four-figure amount.  Every time I'd ask him, "Why is this so expensive?" he'd remind me.  "It's one of a kind."  And he was right.  I like to think of the price as paying a service to the antique collector, recognizing their work in obtaining an artifact that you love and giving them space for more antiques.  I have learned that antique dealers are more than sales-people.  They are passionate explorers who seek history and share it with others.  It is important to understand the significance of antiques stores as cultivators of American identity.  As I continue my apartment-shopping adventures, I commend Tollbooth for its legacy as a space for antique vendors in the local community.  While Tollbooth vendors venture to find new spaces in the coming weeks, I encourage all of those reading to follow, support and patronize them, while additionally exploring other antique collectives in the county.  Antiquing is helping preserve symbols of history and cross-cultural experiences through trade.  In buying from antique stores - whether it be a new dining room table or a porcelain doll - we are integrating history into our daily lives.  Bernie Sheehan is the 2024 futures intern at LNP/Lancaster Online.  "Unscripted" is a weekly entertainment column produced by a rotating team of writers.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  PS:  Today is Tuesday, July 30 and my morning newspaper has a story on page 1 titled: Tollbooth Antiques reopens!  WOW!!!  It has been less than 2 weeks after the fire that destroyed the main warehouse and the main warehouse has begun welcoming customers back.  Remarkable!  Even with most of Tollbooth's main building still a burnt-out brick shell, some vendors set up their shops in adjacent warehouses previously used for storage.  Tollbooth has indeed survived the July 18 fire!!!  The photos in the newspaper show a very small area, but....they are open!  If you are nearby, stop in one of the three small warehouses and encourage them to rebuild their old Tollbooth business.   I'm sure they would be thankful for you to stop and perhaps purchase something from them.  I'll keep you posted as to when they begin to redo their old antique barn.   PS - Their new addresses are: #1 Warehouse: 221 N. Chestnut St., #2 Warehouse: 207 N. Chestnut St., #3 Warehouse: 185 N. Front St., all in the small town of Columbia, Pennsylvania.   It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

She Found The Love Of Her Life----At 93! Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story titled "She Found the Love of Her Life.....at 93".  It was written by Caroline Leavitt and goes like this... My mother moved to an independent living facility when she was 93, convinced that her life and any chance of a love relationship were over.  This after 33 years of an awful marriage with a sullen brute of a man, who also happened to be my father.  I never saw my parents hug, kiss, touch or say "I love you."  They slept in separate beds, separated even more by an end table.  The only relationship advice my mother gave me and my sister was a warning about how men needed sex, but women didn't need it or want it.  When my father died at 57, my mother didn't date, proclaiming herself "through with men and all that stuff."  She had resigned herself to being lonely, and she was even a little resentful when she saw me holding hands with my husband or kissing him while we danced.  "You're embarrassing everyone," she told me, though it was clear that it was only she who didn't like public displays of affection.  All that "lovey-dovey stuff," as she called it, was over for her.  But to her--and our--surprise, the lovey-dovey stuff was really just beginning. Within three days of being at independent living, she had met someone she called the Teddy Bear.  He was a bulky guy, twice her height.  When I met him, he had his arm thrown around her, and my mother was glowing.  "She's my girlfriend," the Teddy Bear told me.  For the first time in many years, my mother was actually happy.  "I'm just testing the waters," she told me.  She was seeing how it felt to be with a man who didn't yell or threaten her, who teased her and was affectionate.  It was an innocent as grade school.  Then a month later, after she and the Teddy Bear had transitioned into casual buddies, she met Walter.  "It was passion at first sight," she sighed.  Walter was smart, handsome, full of life and 91; we joked that Mom was robbing the cradle.  A world traveler, he was also well-read, with a sharp sense of humor.  At our first meeting, he joyfully told me that my crusty, complaining mom was like "starlight."  He later told her he had been watching her from afar and had noticed her ebullience, her laughter and her beauty.  Soon they were inseparable.  Mom couldn't stop talking about Walter.  "He has a beatutfl neck," she told me.  "And you should see his eyes."  I had never heard her speak of any man like this.  She would giggle on the phone like a teenager and say, "We kiss in the hallway, and I don't care who sees us!"  "I'm so happy you have a boyfriend!" I told my mother, and she laughed.  "Oh honey, he's more than that," she said, proudly whispering, "He's a sexual partner."  During all my visits, my mom and Walter couldn't keep their hands off each other.  He would say, "She is my sunshine" to her, and we knew he was her everything.  They enjoyed long talks and walks, champagne on New Year's Eve and, best of all, physical intimacy, something she had not had before.  At 98, my mother began to show signs of dementia and was moved to another building that housed assisted living residents.  There, I saw her in her wheelchair, Walter kneeling beside her, telling her he'd still visit her every day.  And he did, for a while.  Four months after my mother's move, Walter suffered a fall that badly hurt his back and claimed his cognitive abilities.  He was moved to the memory care unit.  But if he forgot her, she never forgot him.  My mom believed they are still together, all the time.  "I just put on fresh sheets for Walter," she would tell me, pointing to her bed, winking---even though the only bed he'd be in was his own.  When he died, my sister and I agreed not to tell her.  And no one had to, because she insisted she still saw him, and slept with him, every day.  During Mom's dying days, at 101, I was at her bedside.  So, she told us, was Walter, holding her hand.  My mother's romance made me appreciate my own 31 years of truly happy marriage.  And it offers us the promise that love and intimacy don't have an expiration date.  Amen!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Through The Viewfinder with Connor Hollinger

 It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story in my morning newspaper that was featured in the "Through The Viewfinder."  Story and photograph were both by Connor Hollinger who is a photographer and writer for the Lancaster Sunday News.  Story went like this....I took this photo while visiting Assateague Island National Seashore in Berlin, Maryland, on June 14.  My original plan was to get a good picture of the wild horses, but I didn't get any I liked.  I was also taking pictures of some type of diving seabird, but the birds were too far away for me to get anything usable.  The Atlantic ghost crab (Ocypode quadrate) is a common  species of ghost crb.  Adults are grayish or the color of straw and around 2 inches wide at maturity; younger crabs are colored to blend in with the sand.  They live in sand burrows above the high tide mark, as deep as 4 feet, and some older individuals dig their burrows as far as 1,300 feet inland.  The Atlantic ghost crab has to return to the water to moisten its gills and release lava into the sea.  They are more active at night and feed on clams, mole crabs, insects, plant material, detritus and sea turtle eggs.  A few notable facts about these particular ghost crabs is their compound eyes can swivel to give them 360-degree vision: they are arguably the fastest terrestrial invertebrates, capable of running at more than a meter per second; and their fossil specimens have been found in rocks dating from the Ice Age.  The "Through the Viewfinder" is a weekly feature by LNP / Lancaster Online photographers exploring the art of black-and-white and color photography.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The True Meaning Of "Give Me Liberty" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Almost 250 years ago, four weeks before the battles of Lexington and Concord, Patrick Henry rose in St. John's Church in Richmond, VA., to urge Americans to arm for a war that he saw as inevitable.  He famously concluded his call to arms: "Give me liberty, or give me death!"

Partiots embraced the refrain, and militia members sewed it into their shirts.  Since then, his words have echoed through the centuries.  In 1845, Frederick Douglas referenced Henry when he wrote of the enslaved battling for freedom.  In 1989, when thousands gathered for liberty in Tiananmen Square, his words were invoked.  But they have also been embraced by some as a radical call for opposition to almost any government action.  In 2020, signs attacking health regulations demanded, rather confusedly, "Give me liberty or give me COVID-19!"  Protesters on Jan. 6, 2021, quote Henry. His famous phrase has appeared on everything from AR-15 dust coves to a Tea Party manifesto.  Rather than a call for democratic freedom, Henry's mantra has become a radical creed. But wrapping anti-government campaigns in Henry's words demonstrates a fundamental historical misunderstanding.  Henry was never simply opposed to taxes or regulation.  The problem was, as we learn in school, taxation without representation.  Henry consistently recognized the right of government, empowered by the community, to make binding laws--even when he disagreed with the result.  In 1788, Henry led efforts to oppose ratification of the U.S. Constitution, because he believed that it would create a government too powerful and distant from the people.  When it was ratified, some anti-federalists sought to undermine its implementation.  When they called upon Henry to lead their effort, he emphatically rejected such opposition, insisting that change must be sought "in a constitutional way."  Henry's commitment to the community's right to govern was never clearer than in his final political campaign.  In 1798, in desperation over the Sedition Act that criminalized political dissent, Thomas Jefferson proposed that states could nullify federal laws.  George Washington saw that anarchy or secession were the likely consequences of Jefferson's theories.  He begged Henry to come out of retirement to oppose the dangerous doctrine.  An ailing Henry agreed.  In his last pubic speech, the great anti-federalist warned that if we cannot live within the Constitution that "we the people" adopted, we "may bid adieu forever to representative government."  Even though his warnings had been ignored, even though he disagreed with the Sedition Act, Henry insisted that the people could not simply refuse to follow the law.  The community had the right  to voice dissent via elected representatives.  That is the very nature of a democracy: joining with our co-citizens to govern, even when we disagree with their choice.  A modern  fixation on "give me liberty" as a license for unbounded personal freedom is a historic lie, and symptomatic of a broader problem.  The freedom that patriots fought for was not a ticket to do whatever one wanted, but the right to participate in a community that governed itself, a government -- to quote the Declaration of Independence -- "deriving its just powers from the consent of the governed."  With such a government, Henry understood that a "loyal opposition" must seek reform "in a constitutional way": at the ballot box.  So be it!   It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.    

The "We Used To Call It Ping-Pong! Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading about a 58 year old table tennis player who will participate in the Olympics.  Tania Zeng was born in China and nationalized Chilean.  She trained at the National Olympic Training Center.  I told my wife I should have kept up my table tennis play from years ago.  My parents used to have a train table in our basement on North Queen Street during the Christmas season which they changed over to table tennis (ping-pong) during the rest of the year.  Used to play most of my friends and did quite well.  But, time doesn't stop and I eventually gave up my table tennis days.  Did keep up the train yard until I got married and my brother took over the trains.  Well, Tania, also known as Zeng Zhiying, debuted in the Olympics at the age of 58.  She became famous in Chile after winning a bronze medal at the Pan American Games in Santiago last year.  She had retired from table tennis long ago.  Though the sport brought her to Chile, she stopped playing to have more time to dedicate to a business she opened and eventually start a family.  Her dream of becoming a professional athlete returned during the pandemic.  Her pinnacle will be reached in Paris.  "I never imagined making it to the Olympic Games.  "I took it up for entertainment, to do some sport.  It was a big, gigantic dream," Tania said in an interview with the Associated Press at the country's Olympic training center.  "I gained confidence by playing a lot.  Since I always won, I liked playing more and more. Qualifying for an Olympics is a big, gigantic dream, and being able to fulfill it at that age is a huge happiness," said Zeng, the oldest athlete in her country's delegation.  Born in Foshan, China,  Zeng is the daughter of a local table tennis coach.  As a child, she used to follow her mother to professional table tennis training sessions.  For a decade, the Chinese-Chilean athlete was a high-performance player.  But her life took a turn in 1989, when she accepted an invitation to teach the sport to young athletes in Chile.  She married soon afterward and moved to Iquique, also in northern Chile, another city where Chinese presence was unlikely at the time.  Zeng is currently the 151st-ranked table tennis player.  She is part of Chile's national team, beating Dominican Eva Peña Brito in her debut in the women's singles table tennis tournament at the Pan American Games.  She lost to American LilyAnn Zhang in the following round, but still managed to win the bronze in the team competition.  Her life is now split between Iquique and Santiago, fueled by the appetite for the game and the affection of the fans.  "Everyone knows me, greets me, wants a photo, and for me it's just joy," she said.  "I am already Chilean in heart and soul, everything.  They are going to bury me here."  Zeng will play in Paris with more experience and the same determination to fulfill a lifelong dream.  She hopes no injuries affect her performance at the Olympics, which is a concern for any older athlete.  "Any bad movement I could get injured, and that worries me a lot," Zeng said.  Zeng's brother and 92-year-old father will be watching from China.  "When he found out that I had qualified, he jumped out of his chair, shouting....Go figure, a 92-year-old man," Zeng said.  "And he immediately told me: "it is your lifelong dream, which is now fulfilled.  Go at it, go with everything' "  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Reconnecting Her First Kiss, 64 Years Later! Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading the "I Know A Story" column that appears weekly in my local newspaper.  Patrons of the Lancaster, Pennsylvania Newspaper are encouraged to send in  stories that relate to their life.  This week's story was titled "Reconnecting With First Kiss, 64 Years Later" and was submitted by Donna Lapham.  Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Do you remember your very first kiss?  Well, I do!  I was one month shy of my 14th birthday.  Then our home burnt down one month later, and we moved away.  We were 14 when we last saw each other - until a few months ago.  His birthday is Jan. 8, and, acosss her many years, I'd wish him a silent "Happy Birthday," as if I didn't know where he was.  Then, three years ago I looked up his last name.  It was unusual, and only about eight names came up.  I jotted them down on a piece of paper and started calling.  It was the third number that knew him.  I told them I went to school with him, gave them my name and phone number and asked would they please give him the info.  Ten minutes later, my phone rang and it was him.  We talked for a few minutes and then he told me he was in a relationship with  a lady friend.  I told him it was OK - I just wanted to know he was OK.  For three years, I sent them a Christmas letter addressed to both of them.  This was OK, but I could not wish him a happy birthday by phone.  I was OK with that and went back to a silent "Happy Birthday."  Fast forward to a January night, the day after his birthday.  He called me, and when I recognized his voice, I told him "I didn't call you yesterday to wish you a happy birthday because you asked me not to."  He told me the situation changed; she had passed away.  I told him I'm sorry for his loss and told him we'd talk later.  Two weeks went by, and no phone call.  I picked up the phone and called him.  I said, you are 78, I'll soon be 78 and we're not getting any younger and I want to have a cup of coffee with you.  He then told me he was going to call me that evening for directions to where I live. I must've given him good directions, because he rung my doorbell.  Keep in mind, we have not seen each other since we were 14!  I opened the door and asked if it as him.  When I heard him say, "I am him," I recognized his voice from or phone calls.  I invited him in, took his coat, gave him a mini tour of my home, and then we sat down at my dining room table, had a meal, and we were both comfortable and at ease during our meal and conversation.  He stayed for two hours.  The next morning I got up and wrote him a thank you for coming and that I truly enjoyed our visit and was looking forward to our next visit or phone call.  A few days later, when he received the card, he phoned and told me that when he initially took the envelope from his mailbox, he was thinking maybe I didn't want to see him and get to know him.  My children and grandchildren are happy for me, and at one point in time I just want to be friends and see how it all unfolds.  This past Tuesday he came and brought homemade chicken corn soup that he made.  Also brought me chocolate mint Girl Scout cookies and his yearbook.  I looked at his the yearbook, found his photo and told him, "This is how I remember you."  I told him I'd think of him different times across the years. He told me he thought of me, especially when he drove near where we used to live, but he couldn't remember what I looked like, just that he remembered I was a pretty girl.  He didn't know it, but when he said that, inside, I was  elated. He stayed for 3 1/2 hours and the next morning I wrote him a thank-you card and included three photos.  He took me to Red Lobster for my 78th  birthday and we have golfed twice.  I can say riding "Cloud 9" is very nice.  We slow danced, and being held in his arms, swaying to the music, is heavenly.  The author of this story, who was widowed in 2016 after 50 years of marriage, lives in Manhem Township.  She wrote this story in June, and her rekindled relationship from 64 years ago is still going strong.  This story was in the Sunday, November 5, 2023 Sunday newspaper.   I am typing this story on Saturday, July 27, 2024.  I only wish I would have had some more information to share with you.  I would love to know the result of this story!  If anyone knows....... please leave me a comment here so everyone who reads this story will know what happened with the two lovebirds!  I await your comments.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.   

Are You Listening? A Story From The "Fishwrapper"

Prelude:  I had posted this story a few weeks ago and recently found it had been deleted.  It may be a bit behind in your schedule, but I still think you may enjoy it anyway.  Please read on.....  It was an ordinary day.  The month of July is upon us and has been in full swing.  There is plenty to do, and if you hestitate a day or two to jump on the bandwagon, it will pass you by.  It is summertime, so make sure you work in a couple of picnics and some outdoor games.  A swim in the pond or lake will help you cool off after a day of sweating in the hot sunshine.  If none of that appeals to you, remember that it is National Grilling Month, as well.  No one is going to complain if you fire up the grill and serve some delicious steaks or pork tenderloins.  Even burgers or sausages will do.  And if you decide that a campfire is a better options, get the flames going.  Roasting hotdogs and burgers are great activities the whole family can enjoy, and they won't break the budget.  You can top off either one with a mouthwatering dessert of s'mores or a mountain pie filled with your favorite pie filling.  You get the idea??  There are plenty of options and probably the biggest mistake is forgetting until it is too late, and you end up playing the "should of, would of, could of" game.  "I seem to do that quite often!"  But, your thinker wasn't fast enough, and you didn't have the ingredients ready.  So some activities get missed or don't happen because you fail to plan and some don't happen because they get rained upon.  It is July and so thunderstorms can happen.  And the rain is so welcome and so refreshing, but your poor party is a disaster.  How about cheering on a beautiful summer day?  Any day would be a good time to cheer someone who was lonely.  Well, there is certainly nothing wrong with making it happen on another day.  Take them some fresh-picked flowers, play some activity with them , do something you know they will enjoy.  And remember that they can be someone of any age, young or old, who is going through some kind of struggle.  Taking time out of your day to show them some kindness is sure to bring joy to their heart.  What about a special day set aside for listening?  You heard correctly!  Really, this is something we need to do a better job of every day.  Hearing is a sense that most people are born with.  Listening, on the other hand, is an activity people choose to engage in or not, and it requires learned skills.  Comunication skills are an important role in the success of any business or organization.  They are vital to all our relationships.  It is so easy to tune out what a person is saying, and then we are left picking up the pieces from our misunderstandings.  What if we had a listening culture where everyone truly stopped to hear what the other person was saying?  A listening culture transforms relationships and makes people feel valued.  Yet, most people talk a lot more than they listen.  Most of us can't claim that we consistently listen well.  So how do you set out to build a culture of effective listening?  Here are a few steps to begin with.  1. TELL THE TRUTH!  Nothing will make people tune you out faster than sensing that something doesn't sound right. If you want people to truly listen, be sure they can believe what you say.  Encourage transparency and  truth telling, at all times.  2. BE INTERESTING!  If you want people to listen, speak in an interesting way.  Tell meaningful stories that are of general interest and not just about yourself.  Be informed and be able to explain why your project really matters.  People can sense if you know what you are talking about.  3. BE INTERESTED!  Approach conversations with empathy and compassion.  Let your words and body language show that you're very interested in who they are and what they're saying.  Imagine the possibilities if more executives approached their employees with a desire to really understand what makes them tick.   Or if more sales reps worked to truly listen to what customers were saying about their lifestyles and values.  4. REWARD TRANSPARENCY!  Don't freak out every time you get bad news.  Use it as a stepping stone to better yourself. Thank people for bringing you the truth even when it hurts.  Surround yourself with those who will challenge your ideas.  Encourage those willing to speak up.  5, BRAINSTORM!  The more interaction people have with each other, the more chances they'll get to practice their listening skills.  Brainstorming sessions are a great way to encourage knowledge sharing and strengthen our listening skills.  Those are just a few ideas for how we can learn to improve our listening skills.  The reality is that someone who talks all the time and engages in conversation without thinking through what he is saying gets boring.  Really boring!  Remember to try and take some time to listen to others and their ideas.  Listen to what is happening in their life!  Maybe that is what it takes.  Time with others!  Time to relax and listen!  Best of luck with your communication skills....both speaking and listening.    It was another day in the life of an ordinary guy.

"The Richest Man In Idaho" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Saturday morning.....and my wife and I had just returned from visiting Stauffer's of Kissel Hill, one of our favorite places to visit for fresh produce and our weekly free copy of "The Fishwrapper."  The title of the story on the front page of the 20 page phamplet read...."The Richest Man in Idaho."  Naturally had to read it and the farther I went through it..I knew you too would thoroughly enjoy it!  So...read on... 

During the waning years of the depression, in a small southeastern Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm-fresh produce as the season made it available.  Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used extensively. One particular day, Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean,  hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.  I paid for my potatoes, but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas.  I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.  Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.  "Hello Barry, how are you today?" H'lo, Mr. Miller.  Fine, thank ya.  Jus' admirin' them peas----sure look good."  "They are good, Barry.  How's your Ma?"  "Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."  "Good.  Anything I can help you with?"  "No, Sir.  Jus' admirin' them peas."  "Would you like to take some home?"  "No, sir.  Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."  "Well, what have you to trade for some of those peas?"  "All I got's my prize marble here."  "Is that right?  Let me see it."  "Here 'tis.  She's a dandy."  "I can see that.  Hmmmm, only thing is, this one is blue and I sort of go for red.  Do you have a red one like this at home?"  "Not 'zackley .  . but, almost."  "Tell you what.  Take this sack of peas home with you, and next trip this way let me look at that red marble." "Sure will. Thanks, Mr. Miller".   Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.  With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community; all three are in very poor circumstances.  Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."  I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Utah, but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering.  Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to  visit some old friends in that Idaho community, and while I was there, learned that Mr. Miller had died.  They were having his viewing that evening and, knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them.  Upon our arrival at the viewing, we fell into the line to meet the relatives of the deceased, and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.  Ahead of us in line were three young men.  All three wore nice haircuts, dark suits, and white shirts---very professional looking.  They approached Mrs. Miller, standing smiling and composed by her husband's casket.  Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her, and moved on to the casket.  Her misty, light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own arm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket.  Each one left, awkwardly wiping his eyes.  Our time came to meet Mrs. Miller.  I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles.  Eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.  "Those three young men that just left, were the boys I told you about.  They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them.  Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size they came to pay their debt.  We've never had a great deal of the wealth on this world," she confided, "but, right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."  And with loving gentleness, she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband.  Resting underneath were three, magnificently shiny, red marbles.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  PS - And...if you don't have a few tears in your eyes by now...well...what can I say!!

The "Unbelievable Visits" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Leafing through a few old magazines when I came across a magazine known as Wanderlust.  Magazine that had beautiful photography as well as interesting stories.  The following are two photographs that I found in the magazine that reminded me of our trips to both the Bahamas as well as Belize.  Check out the photos, which I can't claim as mine, but which I too snapped photos of while on vacation on the island of Belize as well as the Bahamas.

The BAHAMAS...

With around 700 sand-fringed coral islands scattered across shallow turquoise waters, the Bahamas' chief natural attraction could said to be it's marine life.  And, it's true that a number of really big draws thrive under the waves - not least the giant marlin that Ernest Hemingway loved to reel in around Bimini.  Yet today that accolade is stolen by the West Indian flamingo - and the world's largest breeding colony of this leggy supermodel is found on Great Inagua Island.  Following a steep decline driven by hunting and habitat disturbance, the flamingos' fortunes were turned around with the creation of the Bahamas National Trust and the designation of the 32,000-hectare Inagua National Park in 1965.  Today, around 70,000 flamingos gather on the saline lagoons and saltmarshes of Great Inagua, which is a birdwatcher's paradise: among more than 140 other species recorded here are roseate spoonbills, which rival the flamingos with their lurid pink plumage.  Spring, when female flamingos form huge flocks before laying their eggs, is a magical time to visit.  

BELIZE...

Manatee Magic...  Antillean manatees are gentle seagrass grazers that can bulk out to 600kg.  These pudgy sea cows swim leisurely through shallow coastal and freshwater environments, propelled by powerful tail flippers.  They're also endangered, their numbers hit by boat strikes and other human impacts.  The largest population of these delightful marine mammals lives along Belize's beautiful Caribbean coast - an estimated 1,000 individuals.  Strong conservation measures are being enacted to protect them, including the designation of key locations such as Swallow Caye and Gales Point as wildlife sanctuaries. If you join a goat tour to visit their habitat, please choose not to swim with or touch the manatees - it causes stress that they could do without.   It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Giver With "A Generous Heart" Dies" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading the headline in my morning newspaper that says: "Giver with 'a generous heart' dies."  The subhead read: "Namesake of East Hempfield Twp. cancer center passes away Sunday."  Story goes:  Philanthropist Ann B. Barshinger, known for multimillion-dollar donations to several landmark projects and initiatives in Lancaster County, including the cancer center that bears her hame, died of natural causes Sunday morning at 100 years old.  Barshinger, who grew up on a farm near Glen Rock in York County, gave millions of dollars to projects in arts, theater, medicine and education.

Ann B. Barshinger

Born in September of 1923, Barshinger lived thru the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean conflict, Vietnam conflict, 9/11, and 17 U.S. presidencies.  She moved to Lancaster County in 2000 and lived at Willow Valley Communities in West Lampeter Township, where she spent her final days.  The daughter of Howard and Lizzie Boyd, Barshingeer was a 1941 graduate of William Penn Senior High School.  She lived with her parents and a brother, Richard, through most of her teen years in York city.  The family moved out to the farm in Glen Rock in her senior year at William Penn; Barshinger lived with a relative in York city to finish out her schooling.  Longevity was in Barshinger's genes, her power of attorney, Elaine Kowalski, said Sunday.  Her mother, Lizzie Boyd, was one of 11 children, four of whom (including Boyd) lived into their 90s, and seven of whom lived into their 80s.  Howard Boyd lived to be 88, and her brother lived to be 96.  "It was all genes.  She loved her baking scrapple, her sugar.  They had a sugar bowl on the table all the time," Kowalski said.  Barshinger was quoted in 2003 as saying, "I don't buy anything low fat.  If it doesn't have fat, it doesn't taste good," and "at this stage, it doesn't really matter anymore."  She married Richard Simon Barshinger in 2001 after 54 years of marriage.  At the time of their wedding, Ann Barshinger was employed by Charles H. Bear & Co., while her husband - a 1940 graduate of Red Lion High School and 1943 graduate of Franklin & Marshall College - was employed by the Red Lion Milling Co., which was founded in 1920 by his grandfather, Simon Barshinger.  It operates today as Conagra, in Red Lion, and the coupe used their wealth from the sale of the plant to fund their philanthropic endeavors.  "One thing about her is they were a rather poor family when she was growing up," Kowalski said.  "Some locals wanted to build a church in Red Lion.  Since they didn't have much, her parents had her and her brother gather all the stones from their farm field.  They donated those stones to the church.  Those stones were used to build the church."  Barshinger was also generous with her time for her nieces and nephews as they grew up.  "She was without a doubt a generous person," said Becky Rishel, a niece of Barshinger.  'She was generous when she didn't have the financial resources she had later on.  She came down every weekend to spend with her nieces and nephews.  She took us to drive-in movies.  She would take one of us each weekend.  We'd go to restaurants and stuff.  She was always generous with gifts like at Christmastime.  She had beautifully-wrapped Christmas gifts.  That struck me as a child."  Rishel recalled being a child when Barshinger created a club among her nieces and nephews.  "It was the 'Be Kind To Animals Club'," Rishel said.  "We'd meet and talk about how we can be kind to animals."  The Barshingers' donations supported numerous projects at Franklin & Marshall College, including the Ann & Richard Barshinger Center for Musical Arts in Hensel Hall, the Anmn & Richard Barshinger Life Sciences Building and the Winter Visual Arts Center, among others.  A $10 million state grant for the life sciences building was matched by a $10 million donation from Ann Barshinger in 2005, according to LNP - LancasterOnline archives.  Additionally, Barshinger endows the $4 million Ann Boyd Barshinger Scholarship Fund, which supports tuition at F&M for deserving students from Lancaster and York counties.  "She had focus in the way that money was used," Rishel said.  "Primarily it was in Lancaster County, but also York County - never outside those two counties.  Woman's and children's issues mainly, and a guide dog program.  Those were things she cared about."  "She was very intentional about (putting her name on donations)," Kowalski said.  "She didn't want anonymous giving.  A quote she had is, "You'll never see a Haul behind a hearse."  She had a generous heart."  The Ann B. Barshinger Cancer Institute, part of Penn Medicine Lancaster General Health, opened in 2013 in East Hempfield Township, a two-story, 70,000-square-foot center that houses a proton therapy center.  In a 2010 interview, she noted that while cancer has not touched her family, "I've had friends whose husbands have been ill, who've had to get up in the middle of the night and drive them back to Johns Hopkins" or other major regional cancer centers.  "How scary it is for them, and how wonderful it will be to have this right here in Lancaster," Barshinger said at the time.  "It's common that people come up to her in public and thank her for the cancer institute.  We have patients who send in thank you notes all the time, and we get them over to her," Dr. Randall A. Oyer, founding executive medical director of the Ann B. Barshinger Cancer Institute, said in a recent interview. 

Ann pitches a ball to Hall Of Fame baseball player Cal Ripken Jr. 
at Roberto Clemente Field along Rockland Street in Lancaster City

"With a big smile, Ann always says, "It's not about the building, it's about the people who provide the care." That's a direct quote because she's said that so many times.  And she has also said, "The cancer institute is the best thing I've ever done."  Beyond F&M and the cancer institute, the philanthropic reach of the Barshinger's also extends to beneficiaries including Welsh Mountain Medical and Dental Center, which provides medical and dental care at reduced rates or free of charge to low-income patients; VisionCorps; Ephrata Performing Arts Center; Fulton Theatre; Lancaster Symphony Orchestra and the Lancaster Theological Seminary.  And Barshinger also was a strong supporter of the Susan P. Byrnes Health Education Center, a nonprofit health organization that serves south-central Pennsylvania.  In 2010, Ann Barshinger was named the Philanthropist of the Year for Central Pennsylvania by the Association of Fundraising Professionals of Central PA.  "She will have an impact long after she's not physically here," Rishel said.  

             Ann poses in the new youth campus off Dauphin St.

Other giving includes the Ann B. Barshinger endowed scholarship at Millersville University (created in 2014); a 2021 donation to Susquehanna National Heritage to assist them with purchase of a classic 1912 electric-powered boat; and a 2009 donation to creation of Daniels's Den Playground, locate in the Manor Church Community Park south of Mountville.  "I'm not only going to miss her, but her communities are going to miss her," Kowalski said.  "Her famous words were, "Money is like manure, you have to spread it around."  She did!  I could make a list of 200 places where she had given money.  There are people receiving benefits from the money she gave and don't even know it.  She was so happy this community accepted her.  And they accepted her with wide open arms.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

July 21, 2024 Was Earth's Hottest Recorded Day!

It was an ordinary day.  Almost!!!  That is because on Sunday, July 21, the Earth sizzled to the hottest day EVER measured by humans, ... yet another heat record shattered in the past couple of years, according to the European climate service Copernicus on Tuesday.  Copernicus' preliminary data shows that the world-wide global average temperature this past Sunday was 17.09 degrees Celsius (62.76 degrees Fahrenheit), beating the record set just last year on July 6 by .01 degrees Celsius (.02 degrees Fahrenheit).  Sunday's mark and last year's record obliterate the previous record of 16.8 degrees Celsius (62.224 degrees Fahrenheit), which itself was only a few years old, set in 2016.  Without human-caused climate change, records would be broken nowhere near as frequently, and new cold records would be set as often as hot ones.  "What is truly staggering is how large the difference is between the temperature of the last 13 months and the previous temperature records," Copernicus Director Carlo Buontempo said in a statement.  "We are now in truly uncharted territory, and as the climate keeps warming, we are bound to see new records being broken in future months and years."  While 2024 has been extremely warm, what kicked Sunday into new territory was a way toastier than usual Antarctic winter, according to Copernicus.  The same thing was happening on the southern continent last year when the record was set in early July.  But, it wasn't just a warmer Antarctica on Sunday.  Interior California baked with triple-digit heat, complicating more than two dozen fires in the U.S. West.  At the same time, Europe sweltered through its own deadly heat wave.  "It's certainly a worrying sign coming on the heels of 13 straight record setting months," said Berkley Earth climate scientist  Zeke Hausfather, who now estimates there's a 92% chance that 2024 will beat 2023 as the warmest year on record.  When will it ever end??  Looks as if it will continue to get warmer each and every year until I pass on to another world and life!  I guess I should be glad I wasn't just born yesterday!  Can''t imagine what life will be like in another 20 or 25 years from now.  Best of luck to all who I will leave behind!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy...I guess! 

BEST PET PALS -- "Blue" the Fire Dog" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading about "Blue the Fire Dog" who lives in Detroit, Michigan.  Story began with....  Last year, our house caught fire while my brother-in-law was watching my two toddlers: Isabella, who was 4 years old, and Shantel, who was 1.  He was able to get Isabella to safety, but was blocked from reaching Shantel by a wall of flames and fallen debris.  It was our pit bull, Blue, who was small enough to evade danger and make it into Shantel's room.  Five minutes after the fire started, firefighters arrived, and were alerted to her location by blue's barking and circling.  Luckily, everyone made it outside safely.  Blue was covered in soot, but miraculously wan't burned.  We lost everything in the fire, and it's been a long, hard journey to get back on our feet, but we finally have a new place to call home.  To this day, Blue growls when he sees a lit candle or somebody using a lighter.  Blue came to us scared and shy from a bad rescue situation.  But I think he just wants a family to love and love him back.  If it wasn't for Blue, my baby girl wouldn't be here, and I'm grateful for this rescue heroics every day.  Story nominated by Janet Kelly!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

"Beaching May Unlock New Clues!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Picked up my morning newspaper and began to leaf through it.  Took me one page before I found an article titled "Beaching may unlock new clues."  A sub-head read: Specimen may be rare spade-toothed whale that's never been spotted alive.  Wow!!!  The newspaper story was entered by Associated Press writer Charlotte Graham Malay.  I was naturally interested in the story since I enjoy reading about sea creatures as well as learning about the many varieties of sea creatures that exist. And...to find a specimen of a sea creature that has never been spotted alive is amazing!  The Associated Press story comes from Wellington, New Zealand and begins with....Spade-toothed whales are the world's rarest, with no live sightings ever recorded.  No one knows how many there are, what they eat, or even where they live in the vast expanse of the southern Pacific Ocean.  However, scientists in New Zealand may have finally caught a break.  The country's conservation agency said Monday a creature that washed up on a South Island beach this month is believed to be a spade-toothed whale.  The five-meter-long creature, a type of beaked whale, was identified from its color patterns and the shape of its skull, beak and teeth after it washed ashore on an Otago beach.  "We know very little, practically nothing" about the creatures, Hannah Hendricks, marine technical adviser for the Dept. of Conservation, said.  "This is going to lead to some amazing science and world-first information."  If the cetacean is confirmed to be the elusive spade-toothed whale, it would be the first specimen found in a state that would permit scientists to dissect it, allowing them to map the relationship of the whale to the few others of the species found, learn what it eats and perhaps lead to clues about where they live.  Only six other spade-toothed whales have ever been pinpointed, and those found intact on New Zealand's North Island beaches were buried before DNA testing could verify their ID, thwarting any chance to study them.  This time, the beached whale was quickly transported to cold storage and researchers will work with local Mãori iwi (tribes) to plan how it will be examined, the conversation agency said.  New Zealand's Indigenous people consider whales a taonga (a sacred treasure) of cultural significance.  In April, Pacific Indigenous leaders signed a treaty recognizing whales as "legal persons," although such a declaration is not reflected in the laws of participating nations.  Nothing is currently known about the whales' habitat.  The creatures deep-dive for food and likely surface so rarely that it has been impossible to narrow their location further than the southern Pacific Ocean, home to some of the world's deepest ocean trenches, Hendriks said.   "It's very hard to do research on marine mammals if you don't see them at sea," she said.  "It's a bit of a needle in a haystack.  You don't know where to look."  The conservation agency said the genetic testing to confirm the whale's ID could take months.  It took "many years and a mammoth amount of effort by researchers and local people" to ID the "incredibly cryptic" mammals, Kirsten Young, a senior lecturer at the University of Exeter who has studied spade toothed whales, said in emailed remarks.  The fresh discovery "makes me wonder - how many are out in the deep ocean and how do they live?" Young said.  The first spade-toothed whale bones were found in 1872 on New Zealand's Pitt Island.  Another discovery was made at an offshore island in the 1950s, and the bones of a third were found in 1872 on New Zealand's Pitt Island.  Another discovery was made at an offshore island in the 1950s, and the bones of a third were found on Chile's Robinson Crusoe Island in 1986.  DNA sequencing in 2002 proved that all three specimens were of the same species - and that is was one distinct from other beaked whales.  Very interesting reading...so it was.  
It was another extraoridinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Rangers Jim Fyfe and Tûmal Cassidy walk alongside what is
believed to be a rare spade-toothed whale on July 5, after it was
found washed ashore on a beach near Otago, New Zealand.

The "Lost In The Haze Of A Maze" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Checking out the Cherry Crest Adventure Farm's summer season cow-themed corn maze.  The corn maze is a neat place to visit and was recently named the third-best corn maze in the United States by USA Today.  It opens every summer and features a fun, farm-themed design.  This year's corn maze is called "Cattle on the Farm," and features a design of a highland cow.  The farm has several miniature Scottish Highland cows on site, including a calf named Patsy.  The corn maze has 2.5 miles of walking paths.  Cherry Crest Adventure Farm, located at 150 Cherry Hill Road in Ronks, Pennsylvania, has consistently been rated as one of the top corn mazes in the United States by the USAToday readers, having won third place in 2021 and 2022, and first place in 2020.  Admission to the Cherry Crest Adventure Farm for its summer season from July 4 to September 7, including the corn maze, costs $21.95 to $40.95, depending on the package.  Children 0-2 can enter the farm for free.  If you have never been to a corn maze and tried to work your way through one, you will be in for a great surprise and plenty of fun.  And, if you happen to get lost in it and can't find your way out, someone will be more than willing to help you find your way out of the maze.  If you have any questions about this year's maze, you can visit  cherrycrestfarm.com.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

Cherry Crest Adventure Farm Corn Maze

The "Heartbreaking......Just Heartbreaking!!! Story"

It was an ordinary day.  That was until last Thursday evening when a hugh fire broke out in the small town of nearby Columbia, Pennsylvania.  The fire engulfed the historic Tollbooth Antique Warehouse in Columbia.  Smoke was visible from our home at Woodcrest Villas, miles and miles away.  We knew something big was on fire when we first saw the clouds of smoke off to the West of our villa.  Wasn't long before reports came over the TV and radio that the historic Tollbooth Antiques Warehouse in Columbia, Pennsylvania was engulfed in flames with dozens of emergency units called to the scene and nearby Route 462 was closed while firefighters fought the blaze.  

Lancaster Newspaper photograph

The closer you got to the warehouse, all you saw were flames and black smoke.  When the fire was finally contained many hours later, there wasn't much left of the interior of the antique warehouse.  What a shame it was....history was lost forever.  My wife and I made many trips to the antique warehouse to look for purchases for our home as well as gifts for friends and relatives.  If you couldn't find it at Tollbooth, it probably was never made.  We loved walking the block-long building, searching for unique antiques for ourselves as well as for gifts for our friends and relatives.  As I sit in my living room at Woodcrest, I can see quite a few antiques covering the shelves on either side of our fireplace.  Some of the neatest antiques that we had purchased over our years of marriage reminded us of the antique warehouse in nearby Columbia.  But, long before the structure was an antique Mecca, it was a silk mill.  The building itself was built in the early 1900s and for a time housed a silk mill.  Kahn-Lucas was founded in 1889 as the Triumph  Shirt Co., operating out of two row houses in Columbia.  In 1907, the company moved to a new location on Walnut Street.  In 1916, the original two buildings were demolished and replaced with a proper factory.  The Kahn-Lucas name first appeared in local newspapers in 1960.  As the company grew from the 1940s to the 1960s, eventually becoming a national supplier of children's clothing, additional properties were purchased throughout Columbia to serve as offices, warehouses and distribution centers.  It was during this time that the former silk mill on Chestnut Street was added to the operation.  By 1974, Kahn-Lucas employed 400 people in Columbia an had annual sales of more than $10 million.  Eventually, by the end of the 1990s, Kahn-Lucas shuttered their Columbia manufacturing operations.  The site was than thought to be a location for an upscale hotel and spa, but those plans never went through.  by 2011 the building was converted into Tollbooth Antiques.  Kahn-Lucas still exists today, with manufacturing in overseas locations and offices in New York.  There wasn't many times that I made visits to Tollbooth Antiques that the parking lot wasn't filled with cars.  It was one of Lancaster counties favorite places to shop for antiques.  Carol and I drove past the antique building a few days ago and were heartbroken by what we saw.  

The remains of the Tollbooth Antique building

The brick building still stands, but with quite a few broken widows and a HUGH empty space inside.  Where have all the antiques gone?  It is so sad to think that all those historical pieces of furniture, clothing, hardware, etc. are no longer there.  I can't imagine how much was lost in the huge fire.  It's amazing that the brick building wasn't leveled by the heat of the fire.  I parked the car a block away and walked toward the building to take a few photos.  How heartbreaking it was to stand next to the building and look through all the broken windows at the empty space that was at one time a building filled with memories of the past.  Will the building ever be replenished with more antiques?  And....where will all those treasured items come from?  Most...if not all have been destroyed and will forever be gone.  I feel so bad for all the vendors who had stands in the huge silk mill building.  They have lost many generations of historical items that can never be replaced again.  I snapped a few photographs, but became disheartened while looking through my viewfinder, and walked back to my car.  My wife asked me what I saw inside the vacant structure.  I had no answer for her!!   It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  Photos show the destruction of the antique building.

The "Royal Golden Guernsey Goat" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading about King Charles III bestowing a special title on a rare livestock breed with long fur!  From now on, the goat known for its connection to the island of Guernsey will have the special title of Royal Golden Guernsey Goat.  The title, bestowed recently during the King's visit to the island in the English Channel, will apply to the livestock breed anywhere in the world.  "Hopefully, this will raise awareness for the breed," said Rebecca Martin, the owner of eight-year-old Summerville Tamsin, the goat chosen to represent the breed.  As he bestowed the honor, the king petted the small creature and offered a compliment on the shade of its pale blond coat.  The goats are a rare breed and considered "at risk" on the Rare Breeds Watchlist.  Considered friendly and docile, they produce good milk.  Christopher Price, the chief executive of the Rare Breeds Survival Trust, said the honor offers recognition of the breeds historical significance and its value to biodiversity, the environment and sustainable food production.  "Being choosy in what they eat, their grazing can provide very specific environmental benefits," Price said in a statement.  "We are extremely grateful to his majesty for his continued, greatly valued support for British rare native livestock and equine breeds."  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Britain's King Charles III, center right, and Queen Camila, right, 
view a rare Golden Guernsey Goat during a visit last Tuesday to 
Les Cotils at L'Hyvreuse, in Saint Peter Port, Guernsey, during
their two day visit to the Channel Islands.  

The "How's Life Treating You? Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story in my newspaper that was from Mumbai, India.  At first I thought....who would care about what goes on in Mumbai?  Well, the wedding of the second youngest son of Mukesh Ambani, Asia's richest man, is highlighting the billionaire's  staggering wealth and rising clout.  Anand Ambani, 29, is marrying his longtime girlfriend, Rashida Merchant, in what many have dubbed the wedding of the year.  The celebrations were taking place at the Ambani-owned Jio World Convention Centre in Mubai and their family home and are the culmination of months of wedding events that featured performances by pop stars including Rihanna and Justin Bieber.  The four-day wedding celebrations began with a traditional Hindu wedding ceremony, followed by a grand reception that ran through the weekend.  Television news channels showed celebrities like Kim Kardashian and professional wrestler and Hollywood actor John Cana arriving.  Police imposed traffic diversions around the wedding venue from Friday to Monday to handle the influx of guests who were flying into Mumbai, where heavy monsoon rains have caused flooding and flight disruptions for the past week.  Now, I ask you....could that be a sign of what's to come?  Many have questioned the rising inequality in India, where the gap between the rich and the poor is growing.  Seems that traffic is creating a big problem.  "It affects our earnings and I don't care much about the wedding," a taxi driver reported as saying.  The father of the groom, Mukesh Ambani, 67, is the world's ninth-richest man with a new worth of $116 billion, according to Forbes.  He is also the richest person in Asia.  The Ambani family owns, among other assets, a 27-story family compound in Mumbai worth $1 billion.  Ambani's son, Anand, oversees the conglomerate's renewable and green energy expansion.  He also runs a 3,000-acre animal rescue center in Gujarat state's Jamnagar, the family's hometown.  The bride, Rashida Merchant, 20, is the daughter of pharmaceutical tycoon Viren Merchant and is the marketing director for his company, Encore Healthcare, according to Vogue.  Ambani's critics say his company has relied on political connections during Congress party-led governments in the 1970s and '80s and under Prime Minister Narendra Modi's rule after 2014.  The Ambani family's pre-wedding celebrations have been lavish and star-studded.  Would you expect anything else?  Life is good....in some parts of the world, but for some....well,  life just goes on as usual!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Have Never Regretted My Choices In Life!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  My retired Industrial Arts teacher friends decided to get together for a lunchtime meal in Southern Lancaster County.  Five of us made the journey to a restaurant to the south of Lancaster County.  We hadn't seen each other for a few months and thought it would be a good time to meet and check out what everyone was doing during their retired life.  Those in attendance were Barry W., Hal H., Jeff L., Jim C., and myself...Larry W.  We had all taught Industrial Arts at Manheim Township High School during the past 56 years with Barry and myself teaching the longest.  Most taught in both the Middle School (grades 6-8) and the High School (grades 9-12) at one time or another.  The fields of Industrial Arts that the five of us had taught at one time or another were Wood Shop, Metal Shop, Mechanical Drawing, Graphic Arts and Photography.  My specialities were Graphic Arts and Photography which I taught in the high school.  I had the longest tenure of the group with Barry next in line.  I began teaching in 1966, four years after I had graduated from the same Manheim Township High School.  I had taught wood shop at a high school in nearby York County even before I had graduated from Millersville State Teachers College, since teachers were in short supply and the school districts were mandated as to what classes they had to offer to high school students.  After teaching a year in York County I returned to Manheim Township and taught a half-semester of wood and metal shop before receiving my teaching certificate.  It was at that time that I began teaching Graphic Arts (printing) and eventually photography.  The remainder of the group today taught in a variety of Industrial Arts classes.  Barry eventually became the department chairman during his last few years of teaching.  We all still live in Lancaster County, but don't get to see each other as often as we used to while teaching.  Fun to get together and talk about times past when memories of teaching and friendships that we had developed during those years at good ole' Manheim Township.  As for me...well, I actually graduated from Manheim Township High School in 1962 and began classes at Millersville State Teacher's College the following year.  The Industrial Arts department at Millersville at times lost quite a few students, since the Vietnam War was excellerating and buses would at times stop at the Industrial Arts building to pick up students to take them for physicals and induction into the Army or another service unit.   To this day I still don't know how I was never drafted into the Army...or any other service.   Could be my name was at the end of the alphabet or maybe it was the classes that I had chosen to teach which were extremely low in college students.  At times I felt guilty that I had never been drafted, but I evidently was needed as a teacher in an area where there were few teachers that graduated from college.  I never once thought of changing my major in college, since I loved working with my hands and had always wanted to be a teacher.  Today I look back on all the years that I taught and wonder where all the time went.  And...you know...I would love to do it all over again...if given the chance and time!  But...we know...that unfortunately will never happen!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Seated: Barry W., Standing: Larry W., Hal H., Jeff L., and Jim C. 

    

The "Chandra Sees Spernovas Dance" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading about astronomers that know that everything that has ever happened in the history of the universe has left a mark on the sky.  With the right technology, much of it is now decipherable.  For the past quarter-century, NASA's Chandra X-ray Observatory has been recording the roiling aftermath of two mighty supernova explosions that occurred hundreds of years ago, far out in space.  This spring, the astronomers who operate Chandra combined its X-ray images into videos that document the evolution of two astrophysical landmarks: the Crab Nebula, in the constellation Tarus, and Cassiopeia A, a gas bubble and hub of radio noise in the constellation Cassiopeia.  The videos show twisting, drifting ribbons of the remains of the star being churned by shock waves and illuminated by radiation from the dense, spinning cores left behind.  They were made to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the observatory, which was launched into space in 1999 and has been a workhorse of cosmology and astrophysics ever since.

Cassiopeia A in infrared captured by
the James Webb Space Telescope.

Chandra was one of four "Great Observatories" that NASA launched in the 1990s. The others were the Compton Gamma Ray Obervatory and the infrared Spitzer Space Telescope, both of which have since been shut down and the Hubble Race Telescope, which remains on duty.  Chandra's job is to observe the cosmos through X-ray goggles and study its hottest and most violent phenomena, like black hole, exploding stars and blazing-hot intergalactic gas.  Because X-rays are blocked by Earth's atmosphere, these astrophysical events can be studied only from space.  Chandra was the dream child of Riccardo Giacconi, a physicist who pioneered the field of X-ray astronomy and won the Nobel Prize in physics in 2002.  Astronomers now have a multispectral view of some of the weirdest events in the universe thanks to Chandra, the Hubble Space Telescope, which sees ordinary light, and the James Webb Space Telescope, which sees infrared light.  In 2003, astronomers using Chandra discovered a sinking black hole that had been periodically blowing bubbles in the hot, diffuse gas pervading a cluster of galaxies some 250 million light years away.  The activity was producing sound waves - an eternal note of B flat belted into intergalactic plasma.  Chandra's X-ray observations have also revealed that enigmatic flecks of light in the early universe, initially detected by the Webb telescope, were actually quasars: young galaxies harboring supermassive black holes.  That finding caused some astrophysicists to reconsider their ideas about how and when such massive black holes form.  In June, Chandra scientists announced the discovery a black hole with a mass of 80 million suns that was kicking up a rumpus back when the universe was only a half-billion. years old.  Chandra has also long tracked exploding stars.  The Crab Nebula was created in the year 1054 in an explosion that was seen by Chinese and Japanese astronomers and recorded in Native American pictographs.  The nebula harbors one of the first known pulsars - a spinning neutron star that flicks a pulse of radio energy 30 times per second like a super fast lighthouse beam.  The heavens are and forever will be a display of wonderment!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.