The "Shhh! Don't Tell Anybody I Wrote This!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  "Summertime an' the livin' is easy," says the old George Gershwin song that was released in 1935.  Goes on with..."Fish are jumpin' an' the cotton is high. Oh, yo' daddy's rich and yo' ma is good-lookin,' So hush, little baby, don' you cry. One of these mornin's you goin' to rise up singin,' Then you'll spread yo' wings an' you'll take to the sky. But till that mornin', there's a nothin' can harm you, With Daddy an' Mammy standin' by."  I can remember that from my youth, but not sure where I heard it first.  Think it was on my little transistor radio that I would take with me as a child to my pup tent which was a Christmas gift from my Aunt Doris that I would erect in the backyard of my home on North Queen Street in Lancaster when summer arrived.  Not a care in the world when you are a kid in the summertime.  It was there that I spent many a day in the summer, just wasting away my time.  Had a secret club with a few of my friends and they would visit me in the tent and we would make up secret codes much like some of our dads had who were members of the local Masonic Lodge.  Remember the Masonic Lodge?  Dad never talked about it much once he became a member, but I suspected it was a secret place where they did secret things.  The mind of a young boy can work that way you know.  That secret club was known as the Freemasons.  They are the oldest and largest fraternal order in the world.  Dad would tell me that unofficially, they were a secret society that helped shape modern society...whatever that meant.  He had to pay dues and wear this funny scarf when he went to his meetings.  The first documented reference to the Freemasons is in a poem from 1390.  

Masonic logo

The group was originally a stone- mason's guild which is why they are known as Masons.  Eventually it evolved to consist of less stone laying and more secret meetings.  In 1717 four Masonic lodges formed the Grand Lodge in England and started to keep more complete records of their history.  Today there are more than six million Freemasons all over the world with about one million of then in North America.  So, what do they do in their club meetings.  Well, they make plans to make their community a better place in which to live.  They believe in education and self-improvement and strive to improve their community.  One of the most important aspects of Freemasonry is charity.  Worldwide they raise more than $750 million towards philanthropic endeavors.  A bit more than my friends and I made selling the small neighborhood newspaper I printed on my printing press my Aunt Doris gave me for Christmas another year.  But, why wouldn't my dad talk about what he did?  Had to be a secret club I thought.  I do remember that he told me you had to be invited to be a Mason.  Someone at church had invited dad to be a member one year.  He said that being a mason was different than being a member of a church like St. James where we were members.  But, you had to be a member of a church to belong to the Freemasons.  When I began playing summer baseball, one of my coaches was a man by the name of Bob Beitzel.  

A piece of type showing the Masonic logo.

He had a print shop and I often talked to him about it.  Then when I became a teacher, teaching printing, I would visit with him for help from time to time.  He once approached me about the Freemasons and said he was the leader of the Lancaster group of Freemasons.  But, that's a far as it went.  I had enjoyed being a member of my summer tent club, but didn't care to be a Freemason as an adult.  Currently there are chapters of Freemasons around the world who still strive to raise money for good causes.  I admire them for doing that, but I had had enough of the club life as a child.  I did read the names of some very prominent Freemasons.  Names such as Benjamin Franklin, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Mark Twain, Booker T. Washington, Henry Ford, Winston Churchill, J. Edgar Hoover, The Rev. Jesse Jackson, Buss Aldrin and Shaquille O'Neal; pretty impressive names.  Much easier to remember than Kenny Herr, Bill Heckel and Dave Greenwood who were members of my summer club.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Time-Tested Wedding Traditions" Story

It was an ordinary day.  And...the ordinary days all seem to be the same as they drag on and on.  To relieve some of the boredom, I began to go through some of the cabinets in our wet bar in our living room.  One cabinet had a variety of yearbooks from the high school from which I graduated as well as a few from the high school from which my wife Carol graduated.  At the bottom of the pile was the big white album with gold lettering across it which read "Our Wedding."  Grabbed it and headed to the family room to share it with my wife.  It's been quite a few years since we leafed through it, and it's always fun to share our thoughts about it once again.  As we went through it, page by page, we spent time reliving some of our wedding over again.  Some of the photographs brought back old wedding and marriage sayings which are old-time wedding traditions.  

Carol in the church entrance before the wedding.

We talked about not seeing each other on our wedding day until, while standing at the front of St. James Episcopal with my best man, my brother Steve, seeing her coming down the aisle with her dad.  Her flowing long-sleeved gown filled most of the aisle and her dad looked so proud as she held his arm.  She said she was wearing something old and something new which was a saying that was necessary to bring good luck into your marriage.  

Our wedding party.  One the few color photos we have.

Her white gown was picked because white dresses were supposed to be virginal and pure.  Actually, I didn't realize you could buy a wedding dress in any color but white, but it wasn't until the mid-1800s that white became popular.  Carol told me you can still buy a colored wedding dress, even black!  Carol had a maid of honor (unmarried female), a matron of honor (married female) along with three bridesmaids.  

Carol after our wedding was over.

I had a best man, my brother Steve, and 4 ushers.  Having bridesmaids and ushers dated back to Ancient Rome when having a bridal party was required to be witnesses to vouch for the couple.  Actually in many cultures, bridesmaids acted as incognito bodyguards and all dressed the same as the bride to prevent kidnappers and thieves from taking off with the bride.  At the end of the wedding ceremony we exchanged wedding bands which we still have to this day.  Long ago, men didn't wear wedding rings.  

Our wedding bands which we still wear today.

It wasn't until the 1940s that men's wedding rings became socially acceptable and were seen as a romantic link between married couples.  I still wear the original ring that I got from my bride on our wedding day over 50 years ago.  Actually, my knuckle and finger have grown to the point where I can't remove it!  Someone will have to cut it off after I die.  

Thousands of computer chads fill the air.

Another custom of getting married is the tossing of the celebratory rice as the bride and groom leave the church after the wedding.  Years ago in Ancient Rome, wheat was the best signifier of fertility, with rice taking up its role in Europe in the Middle Ages.  Lentils, oats, peas and other grains were also popular.  At our wedding, guests threw little chads of paper from the computer printers back in the mid-1960s.  They were so small and hard to clean up that the church later banned throwing them.  

Our wedding cake.

At our reception, which was held at the church's Parish House, the women's club at the church prepared the food and the large wedding cake was beautiful.  Carol and I kept the top layer of the cake and put it in our freezer at our first home at Manor House Apartments.  On our first anniversary we thawed it out and had a piece to celebrate.  Don't remember it tasting as bad on our wedding day as it did on our anniversary.  Saving the top layer of the wedding cake was a tradition begun in the early 1900s, but it was said back then that it was to be eaten at the birth of a first child.  If we had waited for our first child to eat it, the cake might have killed both of us.  Wedding traditions are neat to talk about and look back on from time to time.  And the more wedding anniversaries we celebrate, the more fun it becomes.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Carol with her mom and dad, Grace and Charlie.

Me with my dad Paul, mom Dottie and brother (on right) Steve.

PS:  On June 17, 1967, Carol and I were married at St. James Episcopal Church in downtown historical Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  We recently celebrated 53 years of marriage!  We shared a box full of red roses and some greeting cards for our anniversary!

The "The Shot Heard Round The World" Story

Bobby Thomson of the New York Giants has just hit a homerun off
Ralph Branca of the Broklyn Dodgers to win the 1951 National League.

It was an ordinary day.  My dad is screaming at the TV!  "He did it!  He did it!" he screamed over and over.  Mom came running from the kitchen thinking it must have been something I did that made dad mad.  Not so!  I never did a thing my dad didn't like!!  Just ask my brother who calls me Moses.  Seems dad and I were watching the final game of the 1951 National League Playoffs to determine who would play the hated New York Yankees in the World Series.  Dad loved watching baseball games on TV, but in this case he had the radio on also, since he liked listening to announcer Russ Hodges give the play-by-play description of the game.  Our favorite, the Philadelphia Phillies, had faded into a distant third late in the season so dad and I had to root for the Giants.  

Bobby Thomson of the New York Giants.

The Giants were playing the equally hated, at least in our house, Dodgers when a Giants player, Bobby Thomson, hit a 3-run home run in the bottom of the ninth inning winning the ball game and sending the Giants to the World Series.  The game was the first ever nationally televised game and we were watching it on our little black and white television.  On the chimney, atop our two-story duplex, was the neatest contraption that made our TV picture much easier to see.  Dad had climbed up on the roof earlier in the summer to attach it to the chimney.  In the bottom of the ninth the home-team Giants were behind by three runs.  They scored a quick run and after one out, had two men on base.  The Dodger's pitcher, Don Newcombe, was pulled and Ralph Branca was brought in to pitch to Bobby Thomson.  

Ralph Branca of the Brooklyn Dodgers.

On deck for the Giant's was my all-time favorite player, Willie Mays, who was in the running for "Rookie of the Year." It was decided to pitch to Thomson instead of walking him and pitch to Mays, even though Branca had struck-out Mays twice in the first game of the three game series a few days ago.  Well, the rest is history as they say!  On the second pitch, a fast ball inside, Thomson hit it over the left field fence at the Polo Grounds.  Radio announcer Russ Hodges called the play … There's a long drive … it's gonna be, I believe … The Giants win the pennant!  The Giants win the pennant!  The Giants win the pennant!  The Giants win the pennant!  Bobby Thomson hits into the lower deck of the left-field stands!  The Giants win the pennant!  Mom came running, screaming what was wrong.  Well, I tell you this story today since Ralph Branca, the goat of the game, died a few days ago at the age of 90.  I don't remember much of the game except for the screaming on the radio and of course mom and dad screaming. Many stories flew around during the ensuing years after the game.  Thomson's home run became entangled in accusations  of a sign stealing operation conducted by the Giants.  Several players, it was reported, had confirmed that they stole opposing catcher's signals for much of the season via a buzzer system using a "spy" telescope in the center field clubhouse at the Polo Grounds.  

Bobby Thomson crossing home plate after his home run.

Thomson said no one ever told him what pitch Branca was going to throw to him.  Branca disagreed when he heard the accusa- tions.  He said Thomson knew exactly what pitch was coming.  Over the years Branca and Thomson appeared together at old-timers' games, baseball dinners and autograph shows.  Much of the money they made was donated to charity.  They became close friends and at one appearance on the 40th anniversary of the history homerun, Thomson remarked that "Ralph didn't run away and hide."  Branca responded, "I lost a game, but made a friend."  Branca eventually grew resigned to being known solely as the classic goat of baseball history.  Not many know that he won 21 games when he was 21 years old or that at the age of 25 he had accumulated 75 wins.  Great baseball player in any person's mind.  And … Bobby finally cleared his conscience by telling Ralph that he knew what pitch was coming that fateful day.  Bobby Thomson died in 2010 at the age of 86 and a few days ago the other part of the historic story duo died at the age of 90.  The homerun was known as "The Shot Heard 'Round The World" and the game is one of the few memories I have of my very early childhood.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  PS - check out the video of the play.





  

The "Memories From The Green House On Janet Ave." Story

Rear door still has mom and dad's name plate on it.

It was an ordinary day.  Just took a few photos of the back porch, turned to head back into the kitchen and there it was.  The little ceramic plaque, perhaps two inches by five inches on the home's rear door, with the flowered details around the edges that read across the center ... "Woods". Wow!  I said to Beth, "You still have that plaque on your back door.  How neat!"  

A small wooden replica of 944 Janet Ave. which was made years ago.
You can see the shutters on all windows and shrubs in the foreground

My story today actually started a few weeks ago when I received an email from someone named Beth.  She told me in her email that she and her husband had purchased my mom and dad's house at 944 Janet Ave. a few years ago and at the time of viewing the home with their realtor had found mom's recipe file in the kitchen.  

944 Janet Ave. as it appears today.  

They told their realtor that they loved the home, but the file would have to be part of the deal, since she felt something of my mom should remain after having lived there for so long.  Their realtor passed the information on to my cousin Susan who was also a realtor and was handling the sale for us.  

Living room as it now appears.

I was fine with that and was just glad I could sell the home, since dad had recently died and mom was in a nursing facility.  Mom died a few years ago and after her death I had totally forgotten about the recipe file. That was until the email.  Beth was reaching out to me and offering the recipe file back if I wished to have it.  

Dining room with the recipe file sitting atop the table.

I asked my wife, Carol, if she would like to have mom's old recipes and we both agreed that it would be interesting to see what was in the files. I returned the email to Beth and said I would love to have the file returned once again.  A day or two later Carol and I left for Stone Harbor, NJ for a week of vacation with my brother and sister-in-law.  When I told my brother, Steve, about the file, he was more excited than me.  He loves to cook and had tried for the past few years to make mom's special meals without the help of a recipe.  

Mom's favorite room, the kitchen looks much like it
did before we sold the house.  

He was anxious to see what dishes he was going to be able to enjoy once again.  Well, today I pulled into the parking space on Janet Ave. and walked the same pathway to the front door that I had walked for quite a few years.  House is still the same pastel green and white that it had been since 1964 when mom and dad purchased it from Miss Frances A. Coventry.  Much of the shrubbery in the front of the house was gone, which I found was due to a water problem and the necessary grading needed to correct it.  

The bamboo, which covered most of the fence in the background,
is now thankfully gone.  Dad's lawn has now been turned
into a garden for fresh vegetables.

The bamboo garden in the back yard, which was a huge burden for dad for years, was finally gone.  The rear yard was now broken into small plots that are used for raising a variety of crops, but the entire atmosphere of the house and grounds was as if mom and dad were still living there.  As I followed Beth through the front door it was as if I was going back in time.  The living room, with the wood-burning fireplace and half wall of gray wooden cabinets was still the same.  

Mom's favorite, the back porch, still is inviting and
as beautiful as ever.

The beautiful hardwood floors, which mom and dad had covered with area rugs, were just as beautiful as ever.  Then, as I walked into the small dining room, there on the table was the piece of history I had come to retrieve.  Before I retrieved it, I finished looking at mom's kitchen and her favorite ... her large rear screened-in porch.  She loved that porch and took great pride in her collection of bird houses she had hanging around the edge of the porch.  

The much anticipated recipe file has now been
returned to the Woods' family to be enjoyed by
more generations of mom and dad's relatives.

Many family parties and meals were served on that porch over the forty-something years she and dad lived at 944 Janet.  If she were still alive, she would be happy to see that it is still in the same condition as when we sold the house.  Beth showed me the basement as well as the second floor which both still remain much the same as I remember them.  The black and white bathroom floor is still in place and as nice as ever and the bedroom that Steve and I shared looks exactly as it did when I moved out in 1967 when I got married.  As I walked back down the stairs, there on the bottom post of the railing still sat the small glass jewel, or mortgage button, that dad had so proudly placed in the railing after they had paid off the mortgage on the home.  After an hour or so, I accepted the file from Beth and made my way back the pathway to the car.  I may never step in the green house on Janet Ave. again, but the memories of my visit today will stay with me forever.  Thanks, Beth for sharing the green house on Janet with me one more time. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Postal Memories From The Past" Story

Postcard that had been mailed in 1910

It was an ordinary day.  Looking at a book I had purchased a few years ago at a "yard sale" titled Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, Post Cards.  Wasn't long before I came across an old post card that read under it … "Lancaster's ornate Moorish and Renaissance Revival City Hall was originally built as the Post Office."  The postcard had been mailed in 1910.  As I studied it I realized the building was across the street from St. James Episcopal Church in downtown Lancaster on North Duke Street.   Sometimes parked in front of it when I went to church at St. James.  I never knew it to be anything but Lancaster's City Hall, but as I looked at the old post card, I realized it was built originally as the post office.  

Another old postcard of the 1930 Post Office

Did some more reading and found that the Post Office that I knew was opened 20 years later on the first block of West Chestnut.   Thought I should take a photo of what I knew to be the Post Office during my lifetime so I headed downtown.  The building in front of me, as I snapped a photo opened in 1930 and was where my father's father, my grandfather Joseph, died in an accident when a mail package fell from above him and killed him.  

My recent photograph of the 1930 Post Office.

This building was built of Indiana limestone and is 15 bays wide and two stories tall with a one-story rear wing.  The design for the building came from the Office of the Supervising Architech, an agency of the United States Treasury Department that was responsible for designing federal buildings from 1852 to 1939.  The location of this building used to be where the Lancasterian School Building once stood.  Today it's only a branch building with the Postal headquarters now on the Harrisburg Pike, west of the city.  

One of the main entrances into the 1930
Post Office.  I can remember entering these
doors with my mom many times to buy
stamps and mail letters.

At one time there were a row of stores and offices across the street from this Post Office on Chestnut St. where a jewelry supply house known as Meiskey's was located.  The same store where my father worked after returning from WWII.  Tough to imagine working every day in a spot where you could look out the window and see where your father died years before.  This building now serves as a branch office of the US Postal Service as well as home to a few local businesses. It was sad to see the Post Office move to a more convenient and larger location, but the second Lancaster Post Office will always remain in my mind as the place where my mom and I visited for stamps and to mail packages.  Time goes on, but history is never outdated in the minds of those who lived it.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "Son, Father, Coach" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Kneeling in front of the faucet at the rear corner of the house.  Getting in my catcher's stance so I can spend the next half hour or more catching pitch after pitch from my son, Derek, as he practices his windup and stretch, using a tennis ball.  My guess is that he was probably five or six years old at the time, but had this inherent love of the game of baseball; just as his dad.  From the time he could throw a ball, I had him in the back yard throwing it to me.  

Derek pitching when he was 9 years old

"Lefty" had the desire to practice his pitching as often as he could and as he grew older his desire never diminished.  Games of Wiffle ball in the back yard with his brother, sister and me seemed to be a nightly summer occurrence with him pitching for one team and me pitching for the other.  Can't tell you how many Wiffle balls we lost or destroyed during the summer months for about eight to ten years as my three kids were growing up.  When he turned 9 year's old I signed him up for organized ball and became his coach.  I had been coaching little league baseball for a few years in the city of Lancaster, but when he began to play, I naturally had to coach his team.  I knew he was a special ball player from that first time we threw in the backyard.  

Local newspaper photo taken of Derek
while pitching at Manheim Twp. High School

He excelled in "B" ball for two years and we both moved up to "A" ball when he turned 11 years old.  Then I found that he could play on the "traveling" team and reluctantly gave up my coaching rights to him to allow him to play with more skilled athletes.  His team did well his first year on the team and the two following years as he played on the 13-14 year old team. During a tournament his second year on the 13-14 year old team he and a teammate pitched back-to-back no-hitters in a weekend tournament.  The news made it into the sports pages of USA Today.  That same  year at that level saw him get to play in the Mason-Dixon Tournament which features the best teams from the north-east USA.  He won two games and his team won the championship.  High School followed with year after year of success on the mound until he gained interest from schools such as Clemson, Cornell and Miami.  

Pitching in a Pennsylvania District
High School game in 1989

Then during the State Playoffs his senior year he traveled to Philadelphia where he beat the best team in that area and that evening the coach from Villanova University called to offer him a full ride to pitch for the Wildcats.  That summer he played in the Keystone Games which featured the best players from all over the state of Pennsylvania.  That team won the Keystone Games baseball category.  His first collegiate year was a success with him having the 3rd best ERA (Earned Run Average) in the Big East.  I must tell you that even though he was third, he didn't qualify since he was 3 innings short of qualifying.  

Pitching for Villanova University

He did all this after spending his Christmas break in the hospital with mono and lost not only weight, but suffered a winged-scapula from trying to return to baseball too soon.  Eventually got to pitch against Miami in the prelims to the College World Series, but lost 1-0.  During his college years he played summer ball in the prestigious Atlantic Collegiate Baseball League for the Quakertown Blazers. He garnered professional attention, with a possible draft offer after his junior year, but he chose to return to school for one more year of ball and to get his degree from Villanova.  A serious arm injury toward the end of senior year cut his dream short.  Then marriage and a baby boy came along and eventually he was back into the sport he loved so much.  He served as an assistant for a few years until this year when he became the head coach for his son's, my grandson's, team in the 11-12 year old league.  

Coach Woods for the Mountville Braves

He has taken a team of all 11 year olds but one and taught them the game of baseball like no other coach could do.  What looked like a year of being a cellar-dweller because of their young age, he coached them into a second-place finish.  And, the boys on his team love him.  He works them hard, but they play their hearts out for him.  My grandson, Caden, who happens to be a "righty" has shown great improvement and confidence on the mound due to his dad's coaching.  My wife and I couldn't be more proud of Coach Woods and try to make every game.  Can't imagine what this team, if kept intact next year, could do with another year of Derek's knowledge and coaching.  I see great things in the future once again for my son ... father and baseball coach.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "A List Of Service In Lancaster" Story

Entrance into the Riverview Burial Park

It was an ordinary day.  Driving through Riverview Burial Park in the southern end of Lancaster City.  The verdant landscape is covered with small American Flags that recognize the graves of those who served their country in conflicts from the Revolutionary War through the Vietnam War.  The mid-morning sunlight reflects off the granite headstones and crosses and casts eerie shadows to their sides.  My Grandfather Joseph, Grandmother Grace and Uncle Clair are buried next to each other in this cemetery.  I made my visit today to see the large section in the cemetery where the veterans are buried, since I recently read that Lancaster County has a resource available to all residents who can search for their relatives and friends who served and see exactly where they might be buried in Lancaster County.  

Row after row of stone crosses, and a few stone Star of David
monuments, line the hills of the Riverview Burial Park

The list is known as the Lancaster County Veteran Burial Index and has more than 17,000 Lancaster County veterans along with period of service, year of death and place of burial.  Their burials might be in local cemeteries, churchyards or family plots as long as they died between the late 1700s through the 1980s.  

Rank, name, Company and birth/death years on the stones

I noticed, when I pulled the website up on my computer, that my father wasn't listed, but then realized he was buried in 2008.  Some prominent names on the list are former President of the United States, James Buchanan who served in the War of 1812 and is buried in Woodard Hill Cemetery; Major General John F. Reynolds who was killed at the start of the Battle of Gettysburg during the Civil War and is buried in Lancaster Cemetery; and Brigadier General Edward Hand who is buried in the St. James Episcopal Churchyard.  

Small plaque listing the war and years of service

As I walked among the graves I noticed that in front of each grave site is a small metal plaque that lists the conflict in which they were involved.  Many died during their service while others died of natural causes.  Many of the names on the list are due to the federal Works Progress Administration effort in the 1930s.  Data gatherers were sent throughout the countryside to gather information from residents as well as from gravestones.  My hope is that sometime there will be another effort to gather information from the years after the 1980s so that my father can have his name placed on the list.  His name is also on a memorial monument in the St. James Episcopal Churchyard in downtown Lancaster.  You can find the Lancaster County list at www.co.lancaster.pa.us/DocumentCenter/Home/View/255.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  PS - click on photos to enlarge them.

Old Glory towers high above the graves

The "Childhood Memories Of Farmers Supply" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Driving around the city of Lancaster, taking photos of the three locations that housed at one time or another, the Lancaster business known as Farmers Supply.  I recently read in the Lancaster newspaper that Farmers Supply closed this past May 13 after 82 years of doing business.  Farmers Supply was one of my favorite stores in downtown Lancaster as a child.  Starting in early November they would begin to set up their model train display and I would stop every Saturday morning after church choir practice to check their progress.  I can still see that wide staircase to the left as you entered the store through those double glass doors.  

My Christmas present from Farmers Supply.

Up at the top of the stairs stood this really neat train yard that featured a few Lionel trains and a myriad number of Plasticville houses and accessories.  The hand-crafted mountains in the rear always had openings in them for the trains to run through.  I would meet my dad at Farmers Supply those few Saturday mornings before Christmas and we would watch the trains run and talk about eventually building a train yard in the basement of our house on North Queen Street.  

The building that housed the original
Farmers Supply as it appears today.

Well, one Christmas, when I believe I was perhaps 12 years old, there under the tree was a big package that I opened and right away knew what my gift was after seeing those familiar Lionel orange and white boxes.  Mom and Dad had given me a Lionel Sante Fe F3 O-Gauge train that featured a double-engine that made engine noises, had a diesel horn and bell sounds as well as three passenger cars, all in bright silver with red and orange trim on the engines and cars.  I was in heaven.  Shortly after our tree came down that year, dad set up a wooden train table in the basement next to the oil burner and we began to spend many an evening setting up the three-rail track in the familiar oval configuration.  OK, enough reminiscing for now, since my story today deals with the closing of an icon in the city of Lancaster.  

The second location of Farmers Supply at 25 E. Fulton St. 

Farmers Supply opened in 1934 at 137 E. King Street, moving to 215 E. Fulton Street in 1965 and then again to their last location at 515 North Franklin Street in 1990.  I'm not sure if their location, a short distance off of the main street, was the cause of their demise, or if it was the many chain stores and online businesses that featured the same products that they carried.  For years and years they sold "truckloads of stuff" to the farm community of Lancaster County.  

The final location of Farmers Supply before they closed.

They sold toys in their early years to go along with their farm supplies, but eventually concen- trated on lawn-and-garden products and became an Ace Hardware store in recent years.   A few of their employees will work for another Service Supply Company in nearby Harrisburg, PA.  Farmers Supply will always hold a warm spot in my heart for the many memories they gave to me as a child.  As I wrote this story I could almost hear the horn and bell echoing throughout the basement on North Queen as they did back in the 1950s.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.       

The "A Call From Denny" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Talking on the phone with Denny whom I have known since I was a young boy and a member of St. James Episcopal Church in downtown Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  Denny was one year my junior and a member of the Sunday School class that consisted of quite a few young boys who tried their hardest to find a way to skip Sunday School after the morning church service ended.  Today Denny's call is to tell me about the neat photos that had been sent to him by another Sunday School escapee's daughter who works for the Lancaster County Historical Society.  Marianne searched the historical files and emailed 23 photos to her dad, Tom, who in turned sent them to Denny.  Denny is attempting to fill the halls of our parish house with photos from the past for a visit from our Bishop in the near future.  After seeing that one of the photos had a picture of my dad in it, he made the call to me.  Well, today Denny has sent me the photos and I had a grand time looking at them and trying to figure out when and where they may have been taken.  I pulled up a series of stories I published in 2014 titled "Searching for a Read" which I wrote while I was on the mend from my latest back surgery.  Found a series of books on the history of our church on the living room bookshelf and wrote the blog entries describing the history of our church which was began in 1744.  The black and white photos which follow all carry some history behind each one, so here goes …….

This was the original St. James Church that was built in 1744.  It was built of limestone and eventually had to be leveled because it was unsafe.  A new church was begun and on October 20, 1820 our present day church was consecrated.  Both churches stood at the same location at the corner of East Orange and North Duke Streets in downtown Lancaster, PA.

The current St. James Episcopal Church in Lancaster, PA.  There are two entrance doors showing here.   One in the center of the photo which is on East Orange Street while the other can be seen to the left on North Duke Street.

This is the North Duke Street entrance.  Eventually this opening was bricked in and the door was moved to the left side of the bell tower.  I'm not sure of the date that happened, but it happened before I was born.

This is a photo of Mr. George Rodgers who was the organist and choir director when my dad was a member of the boys choir of St. James Episcopal Church.  Mr. Rodgers began his tour of duty in 1910.  He had to give the bad news to my dad when his voice was beginning to change and he could no longer sing in the boys choir.  

This is a photo of the choir taken sometime in the late 1950's.  Mr brother Steve is in the second row, far right.  My dad is standing dead center in the back row.  My voice had also changed by this time in history and I was no longer able to be in the boys choir.  Both my dad and I eventually rejoined the choir as adults.

This was the old choir room which was attached to the side of the church.  

This is the altar end of the church which is directly in front of the church cemetery which was begun in 1762.  Two famous members buried in this cemetery are Rev. Thomas Barton and General Edward Hand.

Our iconic steeple.  I have been able to climb the wooden stairs a few times to reach the top and take photos.  There is now screening all around the openings in the top of the steeple to keep the pigeons and bats from entering.

This is our Parish House.  Notice the street in front in this photo is all brick.   Attached to the Parish House, on the right, is our Rectory where our minister lives.  In this photo it has a covered entrance which is no longer there.  This photo is probably from the early 1940's.

And, this final photo was taken at our Church Camp, Camp Rodgers, named for the choirmaster years ago.  The camp was originally on an island in the middle of the Susquehanna River.  I remember going to camp at that location when I was young.  Then that camp caught fire and was history.  A property in Lancaster county was purchased and became the new Camp Rodgers.  I also went to camp at this location in the mid to late 1950's.

Hope you enjoyed a look at a few historic photos from the past of St. James Episcopal Church.  I enjoyed looking at them, but then I have been a member for more than 60 years.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.