Carter Was Calm During TMI Crisis Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading about former President Jimmy Carter's trip to central Pennsylvania in the wake of the most serious accident at a commercial nuclear plant in U.S. history.  Carter died this past Sunday after starting hospice care in February 2023.  He was 100 years old.  Carter visited the region April 1, 1979 - four days after the partial meltdown at the Three Mile Island nuclear power plant's Unit 2 reactor.  I can still remember that day.  Local officials at the time said Carter's visit helped to quell panic in people living near the plant and gave a needed morale boost.  "My primary concern in coming here this afternoon has been to learn as much as I possibly can as President about the problems at Three Mile Island nuclear power plant and to assure the people of this region that everything possible is being done and will be done to cope with these problems," Carter said that day.  One of my sons was celebrating his birthday that particular day and had his friends to our house in nearby Lancaster for a birthday party.  I can remember a call to the local hospital I made to find out about what should be done about our party.  We were told to stay indoors instead of allowing the children to be outside...just in case.  Carter said the levels of radiation coming from the plant were safe and promised an investigation into the incident.  It was later determined that a combination of human error and technical error caused the reactor to lose cooling water, exposing the core and putting the plant at risk of a meltdown.  Carter trained as a nuclear engineer.  TMI was not his first brush with a nuclear crisis.  In 1952, Carter led a Navy crew that helped safely dismantle the damaged Chalk River reactor in Ontario, Canada.  Mechanical problems and human error at that experimental reactor led to overheating fuel rods and significant damage to the reactor core.  Carter supported nuclear power as "an energy source of last resort" to help lessen reliance on foreign oil.  The incident at TMI sparked a backlash that significantly slowed the industry's growth in the U.S. according to the Energy Information Administration.  Plans for 67 nuclear power plants were canceled between 1979 and 1988.  Many plants that had started the lengthy permit process in the 1970s continued to come online through the early 1990s.  Only two new plants have come online in the U.S. in the past years.  TMI-2 never reopened after the accident.  A subsidiary of Utah-based EnergySolutions is now cleaning up at the site.  TMI's Unit 1 reactor, owned by Exelond, generated power until Sept. 20, 2019.  It shut down because it was not economically competitive with other energy sources such as natural gas.  This year the plant announced plans to reopen, fueled by a deal to provide emission-free electricity to Microsoft.  PS - I guess that since Carter made it to 100....the nuclear accident during my son's birthday party didn't cause any problems for the children that were attending the party!     

Brothers Learn Of War Coincidence Over Dinner

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story in my Lancaster Newspaper's "I Know A Story" section.  It was submitted by Mr. Randy Flahart and was about Pop Flahart, who served in the 301st Signal Operation Battalion which was attached to Patton's 3rd Army during World War II.  Story began with Randy talking about his brother, Smokeym who was inn an armored unit, also serving in the 3rd Army.  But they did't have contact wutg each Iger during the war.  During the Battle of the Bulge, the 3rd Army turned north to attack the remain flank in an attempt to break the siege at Bastogne.  On Christmas Eve 1944, Pop's unit was in Luxembourg City.  Pop and his buddies found an empty building across the street from headquarters, thinking hey could sleep indoors for the first time in a long time.  Just as they were settling in, a sergeant came and told them they had to move.   Their Jeeps were adding to the traffic problem and crating a target.  They told him they had orders to stay there so they could be found when needed.  The sergeant left but it wasn't long before an officer came and made them move to the green (town park) down the street.  Looked like they were sleeping outside again.  When they arrived, there was a tank parked on the other side of the green.  They settled in, but the ink kept starting its engine on the hour token its batteries charged.  Just before daylight, the tank started its engines and left the green.  When Pop's group went back to headquarters, they saw that the building they're planning on staying in had taken a direct hit from a German shell during the night and caved in completely.  It turned out to be good that the officer made them leave.   You might have even called it a Christmas miracle.  The rest of the story came years later, while the family was sitting around the table after Christmas dinner.  The were talking about places they had been on Christmas.  Smokey started talking about Christmas Eve 1944, spent on the green in Luxembourg.  The Germans had been shelling the town from a rail car gun during the night.  Just before sunup, he got orders to late the gun and try to stop it.  They started their engine and left the green.  They found the tunnel the rail gun was hiding in and fired at it just as it was coming out to fire again, putting it out of service.  Pop and his brother had spent Christmas Eve together on the green in Luxembourg.  And they never even knew it until years later.  The author of this story lives in nearby Quarryville, Pennsylvania.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

"Tsunami Anniversary Draws Tears" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading an article in my morning newspaper titled "Tsunami Anniversary Draws Tears."  The sub-head read: "South Asians gather to mourn losses 20 years after massive quake, wave."  Story reads as:  BANDA ACEH, Indonesia - People gathered in prayer and visited mass graves in Indonesia'a Aceh province Thursday to mark 20 years since the massive Indian Ocean tsunami hit the region in one of modern history's worst natural disasters.  Many wept as they placed flowers at a mass grave in Ulee Lheue village, were more than 14,000 unidentified tsunami victims are buried.  It is one of several mass graves in Banda Aceh, the capital of Indonesia's northernmost province, which was one of the areas worst hit by a magnitude 9.1 earthquake and the massive tsunami it triggered.  "We miss them, and we still don't know where they are.  All we know is that every year we visit the mass grave in Ulee Shue and Siron," said Muhamad Amirudin, who lost two of his children 20 years ago and has never found their bodies.  "this life is only temporary, so we do our best to be useful to others," Amirudin, visiting the grave with his wife, said.  The powerful earthquake off the coast of the Indonesian island of Sumatra on Dec. 26, 2004, triggered a tsunami that killed around 230,000 people across a dozen countries, reaching as far as East Africa.  Some 1.7 million people were displaced, mostly in the four worst-affected countries: Indonesia, Sri Lanka, India and Thailand.  More than 170,000 people died in Indonesia alone.  Even though 20 years have passed, survivors in Indonesia ae still grieving the love ones they lost to the giant wave that flattened buildings all the way to the provincial capital of Banda Aceh.  Hundreds of people gathered to pray at the Baiturrahman Mosque in downtown Banda Aceh.  Sirens sounded across the city for three minutes to mark the time of the earthquake.  Infrastructure in Aceh has been rebuilt and is now more resilient than before the tsunami struck.  Early warning systems have been installed in coastal areas to alert residents of incoming tsunamis, providing crucial time to seek safety.  In Thailand, people gathered at a memorial ceremony in Ban Nam Khem, a small fishing village in Phang Nga province that bore the brunt of the devastating wave in the country.  The tsunami claimed the lives of over 8,000 people in Thailand, including many who remain missing, leaving a deep scar in the nation's history.  Nearly 400 bodies remain unclaimed.  Mourners shed tears and comforted each other as they laid flowers at the village's tsunami memorial.  Around 300 people joined a modest ceremony with Muslim, Christian and Buddhist prayers.  Uri Sirisuk said she avoids the seaside memorial park the rest of the year because the loss of her 4-year-old daughter still cuts deep everytime she's reminded of it.  "I have this feeling that the sea has taken my child.  I'm very angry with it.  I can't even put my foot in the water," she said.  But, she said, "I still hear her voice in my ears, that she's calling for me.  I can't abandon her.  So I have to be here, forty child."  In India, hundreds gathered at Marina beach in the southern city of Chennai in Tamil Nadu state.  They poured milk into the sea to propitiate gods and offered flowers and prayers for the dead as drums beat ini th background.  According to official data, 10, 749 people were killed in India, including nearly 7,000 people in Tamil Nadu Annie.  In Sri Lanka, survivors and relatives of tsunami victims gathered at the coastal village of Pereliya and laid flowers at a memorial that commemorates nearly 2,000 passengers whooped when their train, the Queen of the Sea, was hit by the wave.  Only a few dozen people are believed to have survived.  Overall, more than 35,000 people died in Sri Lanka in the tsunami.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.   

The Scribbler: Wright's Live, Written For The Young" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading Jack Brubaker's "The Scribbler" article in my local Sunday News titled "Colonial Pa.'s 'Suzy' Wright gets some long-deserved book" story.  As usual, Jack's writing is remarkable.  I will share a part of his story about Susanna Wright, of Wright's Ferry on the Susquehanna with you as today's story.  The book is one of the of the most detailed published studies of Wright's life which was from 1697-1784.  But, the work, with all its lush photographs, focuses on the mansion and its collections more than Wright and her family.  Somehow a more lively, but abbreviated story of Wright's life for young readers had escaped the Scribbler's notice until now.  Eight years ago, Teri Kanefield, a writer and lawyer who lived in San Francisco published "The Extraordinary Suzy Wright: A Colonial Women on the Frontier," an oversize and amply illustrated exploration of the highlights of Wright's life.  Susanna, or "Suzy," Wright, daughter of the wealthy Quaker John Wright, who ran the ferry at Wright's Ferry, now known as Columbia, Pennsylvania, was a significant poet, as well as a lawyer, doctor and silk manufacturer.  She corresponded regularly with Benjamin Franklin, James Logan and other leaders of Colonial Pennsylvania.  These activities have been thoroughly explored in Schaefer's book and briefer studies of Wright's life and works.  What distinguishes Kanefield's book, besides its target audience and picture-rich layout, is her emphasis on Susanna Wright as a trail-blazing woman in early America.  Wright was probably the second woman to practice law in the British colonies.  She was one of the first American women to operate a business when she raised silkworms and made silk - an enterprise she began when she was in her 70s.  She was one of the few 18th-century women to act as a political adviser and activist.  She helped Benjamin Franklin assemble horses and wagons for General Edward Braddock's ill-fated expedition to capture Fort Duquesne during the French and Indian War.  She also provided detailed information to Franklin that he used to condemn the Paxton Rangers. for massacring the Conestoga Indians in 1763.  She was one of the foremost female poets of 18th century America.  In one of her poems - "To Eliza Norris - at Fairhill" - she advocated equal rights for women long before many owe, let alone men, seriously considered the possibility.  In another poem, "The Grove," Wright described a beautiful grove of trees that were destroyed.  The poem seems to be an allegory about Penn's Woods, where the Quaker's plan for peace was ruined, as Kanefield writes, "by human greed, war and 'turbulent spirits.'"  "The more I learned about Suzy," Kanefield concludes of her research for this book, "the more I found to admire - from her love of books to her hatred of violence.  I discovered in her life and ideals a new look at our nation's beginnings."  While this is a book that the Scribbler would recommend for any young reader, he should point out a misjudgment by the author.  Summing up the impact Quakers in general had on early America, Kanefield quotes a well known aphorism - "They came to do good and did very well" - without explanation.  In Kanefield's positive context, she implies the Quakers simply accomplished the good works the set out do in Pennsylvania.  But, that's not what the phrase means.  It means that the Quakers, not unlike settlers of other religions who coupled high ideals with capitalist ventures, did good deeds while doing very well financially.  Otherwise, this is a splendid book about a great, and good, Quaker leader.  Interesting read if you can find a copy.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Life-Changing??? No More Common Sickness??? Too Good To Be True??? Yeah...Right!! Story

It was an ordinary day.  The following is a story I read in my November/December 2024 Saturday Evening Post.  The story was by Doug Cornell, PhD.  I found it interesting....but not sure how well it might work.  I am posting it for you to read so you too might read it and judge what you read for yourself and your family.  I am not recommending anything in the story, but just thought it was an interesting read.  Perhaps I may try it in the near future, but as of today, I have not tried or have recommended anything that you may read about in this story.  Reading that most of us live our lives expecting to get sick now and again, but it doesn't have to be that way!  Medicine cabinets are full of remedies for after we get sick.  Wouldn't it be better not to get sick in the first place?  Scientists have found a natural way to kill germs that cause common illnesses before we get sick.  That's life changing!  Don't just reduce symptoms with costly meds.  Avoid the symptoms completely.  *Kill the viruses that cause colds, flu, Covid, cold sores, and fever blisters!  *Kill the fungus that cause sinus trouble and mold allergies.  *Kill the microbes that steal your sleep with congestion and stuffiness.  *Kill the bacteria that cause pinkeye, styes, thrush, ringworm, and other infections, even after they have started.  Scientific studies prove pure copper kills germs instantly, just by touch.  That's why ancient Greeks, Egyptians, and Aztecs used copper to stop sore throats and skin infections and to heal wounds.  They didn't know about bacteria and viruses.....but now we do.  Thousands of people use pure copper now to kill germs that cause sickness.  High-power microscopes show germs like the Covid virus starting to die instantly when copper touches them.  The NIH, EPA, and other authorities all vouch for the power of copper to kill germs.  It even kills those really bad antibiotic-resistant germs, too.  Scientists say the high conductance of copper disrupts the electrical balance in germ cells, destroying them in seconds.  The EPA urged hospitals to use copper for surfaces like faucets and doorknobs.  Those that did cut the spread of bad germs by over half, and saved lives.  The strong proof gave inventor Doug Cornell an idea.  He had been getting 2-3 bad colds a year.  So in 2012 he made a smooth copper probe with a tip to reach where germs collect in the nostril.  The next time he felt a tickle in his nose, which warned him he was about get a cold, he touched the copper gently to the tickle spot for 60 seconds.  "It worked!  The cold never started," he exclaimed.  "Now I use it at any warning sign of cold or flu."  Since then he's gone over 12 years without a single cold.  He asked relatives and friends to try it.  All said it worked, so he patented it, called it CopperZap and put it on the market.  Soon hundreds had tried it.  Over 99% said CopperZap worked if they used it right away at the first sign of bad germs, like a tickle in their nose or a scratchy throat.  The handle is curved and textured to make more contact with your fingers.  If you touch items sick folks have touched, pure copper can kill germs you pick up.  With over 100,000 sold, nearly all the reviews are 5-star.  Longtime users say they haven't been sick in years.  EPS tests show tarnish does not reduce copper's germ-killing power.  CopperZaps (Registered) are easy to use, easy to clean, and include directions.  Made in the USA of pure American copper.  Price is $79.95. Yikes!!  Get $10 off each with code SATP14.  Buy once, use forever.  Never wears out. (As of now!)  Money back guarantee.  Save on meds.  Save on time.  Cut stress.  Sleep better.  Probably live longer, too.  Users say "Best Money I ever spent" and "Worth every penny."  Copper Zap LLC is top-rated by Better Business Bureau, with zero complaints.  Order at www.CopperZap.com or call toll-free 888-411-6114, 9-4 Pacific time.  Real people in the US answer the phone.  *Statements not evaluated by the FDA.  Not claimed to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease.  I, too, do not claim that it will work for you.....or me!  Will I give it a try?  I'm not sure!  I'll have to be really....really sick before I spend the money not knowing it will work or not.  If you do buy the product, post a comment at the end of this story telling me how well it worked for you!  I won't buy it until I get a few "GOOD" comments from my readers.  Best of luck for those that give it a try!!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "Photograph Of Lancaster Featured In New York Times" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading an article in my Lancaster Newspaper which featured scenes of Lancaster County Amish farmers that were presented in a New York Times profile of a National Geographic photographer.  Lose you yet!  Photographer George Steinmetz spoke to the Times about his new book, "Feed the Planet," which featured 300 photos depicting food production across 40 countries.  Those photos include scenes from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, including aerial photos of farmland.  The story, which was published November 23, and was reported from Paradise, follows Steinmetz on a return trip to Lancaster County to "get a better shot."  "The prize - and the challenge - are the stewards: the Lutheran separatists known as the Amish, whose commitment to antique ethics and deep insularity illustrate some rich paradoxes of our ever-expanding, yet persistently local agricultural needs," the story reads.  "Jima and preserves go to local tourist shops, pumpkins to Connecticut, and milk and cattle to buyers around the country."  "Feed the planet" continues Steinmetz's visual exploration of food production, which started during a 2013 assignment for National Geographic.  In 2022, Steinmetz spoke at the Ware Center for an event hosted by "Hourglass Lancaster."  Read the New York Times story at land.news/steinmetznyt.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

George Steinmetz captured Amish dairy farmers harvesting corn.

The "We Three Kings Of Orient Are....Or.....The Last King Standing!"

It was an ordinary day.  Trying to remember if I ever wrote a story about singing with my dad and our family doctor, Dr. James Martin, during a Christmas service at St. James Episcopal Church in downtown Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  I've searched my old stories and can't seem to find any story about the three of us singing together, but that doesn't mean we didn't  do it and I just didn't title my story so as to help me recognize it when the next Christmas rolled around.  Well, just in case, I thought I would post a story once again telling of the three of us portraying the three of Orient.  It all began years ago when the three of us portrayed the three Kings of Orient in St. James Episcopal Church's Christmas Eve service.  We all sang the "We Three Kings of Orient" as part of the church pageant at the early evening Christmas Service when all the children were still able to make it to church without falling asleep.  If I remember, Dr. Martin lead the song singing the verse where he would sing "Gold I bring to crown Him again...etc. with my Dad chiming in with verse No. 2 which was "Frankincense to offer have I...etc. with me finishing the third verse with Myrrh is mine; its bitter perfume...Breathes a life of gathering gloom.  We all finished the song together with.... Glorius now behold Him arise....etc.  Each one of us had to walk slowly down the center aisle of the church when it was our turn to sing our verse and eventually we all ended with the final verse with the entire congregation singing the final verse of the hymn with us.  What made the entire event so dramatic was the outfits that we each had to wear when it was our time to walk down the center aisle of the church.  Both my dad and Dr. Martin were fantastic singers and performed quite a bit over the years, but for me it was a rather scary situation since I had to make sure I didn't trip on my costume while following in my hymn book to make sure I was singing the proper song verse while walking down the aisle.  I had the chance to perform my part of the hymn for close to 10 years before either my dad or Dr. Martin was no longer able to take part in the hymn.  I loved the outfit that I had to wear since it added about three feet to the top of my head and made everyone look at my costume for most of the time and not just me as I wound my way down the center aisle in the church.  The three of us sang the hymn together at Christmas for close to 10 years before Dr. Martin was called away from the church for a medical emergency.  I have posted the photograph of the three of us as "The Three Kings" so you could see how we looked during our walk down the center aisle of St. James Episcopal Church in Lancaster, PA.  Those are some of the best times I can remember while singing in the St. James Church choir with my dad and Dr. Martin.  When the pageant was over, we all had the honor of marching back to rear of the church one more time so everyone in the congregation could see our costumes for the service.  I'm so glad that I had found the old photo from back in the mid-1950s.  Both my father and Dr. Martin have passed.   It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

left-right: Yours truly, Dr. Martin, Paul Woods

The "I Know A Story" Story...Bob Hope's Show Brought Bit of Home To Soldiers in Vietnam

It was an ordinary day.  Reading a story that was published in the "Living Section" of my Sunday newspaper.  The "I Know A Story" story is publish every Sunday, usually in the "Living Section of the newspaper.  Today's story was titled "Bob Hope's show brought bit of home to soldiers in Vietnam."  The story was submitted by Dan Jerchau.  It read... During Christmas of 1971, I was stationed in Da Nam, Vietnam.  Each year, the USO would entertain troops with Christmas shows all over the world - wherever soldiers were stationed.  The biggest show was the Bob Hope show.  It was held at the Freedom Hill Post Exchange, where there was an amphitheater carved into the side of a hill on the base.  Right next to the theater was the Freedom Hill Post Exchange or PX.  That was like a huge Walmart for the military, where you could buy anything you wanted.  I bought my stereo there, and my Minolta camera.  There was talk of who was going to get tickets at our post to see Bob's show.  We knew a small number of us would get to see the performance.  Since I was only a Private First Class, I knew I most likely would not get a ticket.  I remember stepping out of my hooch, and I passed some soldiers walking in the other direction.  One of those guys stopped and asked, "Would you like to go to the Bob Hope show tomorrow."  I answered, "Yes, I would love to go but I'm not sure how to get a ticket."  The guy said, "Well, I got one, and I can't go.  Here's your ticket."  He handed me his ticket.  Wow!  I saw many Bob Hope shows on TV while I was at home, but it was a big deal to get to see him in person.  This was the first time I was ever away from home, not to mention away from my family at Christmas.  The next day, all of the soldiers were seated, long before Bob Hope showed up.  His crew had done all the preparations in advance of his arrival.  Suddenly, someone yelled, "Here they come!"  Six helicopters headed our way with a huge CH-47 Chinook helicopter out in the lead.  Five Huey (smaller helicopters) were behind in a "v" formation.  As they approached, the five Hueys popped red smoke grenades attached to their skids and all six helicopters flew over the amphitheater at only 100 feet, streaming red smoke.  It was quite a grand entrance.  All of them landed quickly, right beside the amphitheater.  It turns out the the lead Chinook was Bob Hope's aircraft.  He climbed out of the helicopter, along with about 25 beautiful girls, and about 15,000 soldiers went absolutely nuts.  Bob came out and said, " I heard that you can always  tell a soldier who is stationed at Da Nang.  His hair is parted down the middle from enemy 122mm rockets that roar overhead every night!"  Jim Nabors was there and sang a song.  The Golddiggers danced, and Ann-Margret was there, too.  The wonderful show lasted about an hour.  You could tell Bob Hope was the real deal.  He really did care about us.  He stressed over and over that he was proud of us and he could think of no better place to spend Christmas than with us in Vietnam.  At the very end of his show, he always had a pretty girl sing "Silent Night."  Then everyone was invited to sing with her.  I saw soldiers wiping tears from their eyes as we sang.  I was one of them.  I will ever forget the sound of 15,000 Army, Navy and Marine soldiers singing "Silent Night," and how Hope brought us all together on Christmas of 1971 in a war-torn land 12,000 miles from home.  Bob Hope did this every Christmas during World War II, the Korean War and all the way through the Vietnam War.  God Bless You Bob!!!  The author of this story, Dan Jerchau,  lives in East Petersburg, Pennsylvania.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.   

Merry Christmas To All & To All A Good Night!

It was an ordinary day.  Almost!  The New York Sun received the following letter in 1897.  The response which follows, written by the editor and veteran journalist Francis Pharcellus Church, was printed in "The Sun" as an unsigned editorial September 21, 1897.  The work has since become history's most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies and other editorials, and on posters and stamps.  It's an LNP/LancasterONline tradition to publish it before Christmas...and now will become a tradition for my blog...

Yes, Virginia. . .

Dear Editor: I am 8 years old.   Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.  Papa says, "If you see it in "The Sun" it's so."  Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?   Virginia O'Hanlon, 115 W. 95th St., NY.

Dear Virginia, Your little friends are wrong.  They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age.  They do not believe except (what) they see.  They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their own little minds.  All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's, women's or children's, are little.  In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.  Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.  He exists as certain as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy.  Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus.  It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginia.  There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence.  We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight.  The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.  Not believe in Santa Claus!  You might as well not believe in fairies!  You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove?  Nobody sees the real Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus.  The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn?  Of course not, but that's not proof that they are not there.  Nobody can conceive or image all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.  You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart.  Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond.  It is all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.  No Santa Claus!  Thank God he lives, and he lives forever.  A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.  So...from my house to your house...Merry Christmas & A Happy New Year!  May Santa bring you all the wonderful things that you are hoping for this Christmas Day and may you obtain all that you are hoping for in the coming year.  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.  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 Merriam-Webster word of the year is "polarization"?  "Polarization means division, but it's a very specific kind of division," said Peter Sokolowski, Merriam-Webster's editor at large, in an exclusive interview with The Associated Press. "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 the 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 Marrian-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, closes 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 off 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 Chjiles 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."  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.   

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 "An Old Lady's Poem" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading my latest "Fishwrapper" publication insert when I came across a rather interesting and lovely poem.  Thought I just had to share it with you!  After reading it, remember this poem when you meet an old person whom you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within them.  Remember.....you will one day be there too!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

An Old Lady's Poem

What do you see, nurses, what do you see?                                                                           What are you thinking when you're looking at me?                                                                     A crabby old woman, not very wise.                                                                                 Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply                                                                           When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"                                                              Who seems not to notice the things that you do.                                                                     And forever is losing a stocking or shoe.

Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will  
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what you're thinking?  Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse: you're not looking at me!

I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still.                                                                                   As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.                                                                                         I'm a small child of ten with a father and mother, 
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,                                                              Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.                                                                                     A bride soon at twenty-----my heart gives a leap.                                                    Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.  

At twenty-five now,  I have young of my own.                                                                       Who need me to foster a secure, happy home.                                                                               A women of thirty, my young now grown fast,                                                                       Bound to each other with ties that should last.

At forty my young sons have grown and are gone.                                                                   But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn.                                                                             At fifty, as more babies play round my knee,                                                                        Again we know children, my loved one and me,

Dark days are upon me, my husband is now dead.                                                                         I look at the future.  I shudder with dread.                                                                                 For my young are all rearing young of their own,                                                                        And I think of the years and the love that I've known.

I'm now an old woman, and nature is cruel;                                                                                Old age comes knocking, makes you look like a fool.                                                              The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,                                                                           My mind is left to ponder the dreams of my heart. 

But inside this old body, a young girl still dwells.                                                                   And now and again my battered heart swells.                                                                                   I remember here the joys.  I remember the pain,                                                                       And I'm loving and living life over again.

I think of the years --- all too few gone too fast.                                                                          And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.                                                                          So open your eyes, nurses, open and see.                                                                                 Not a crabby old woman; look closer---see me!

Amen!

 

   

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.