The "It's Finally Over...Almost: Part I - The Beginning" Story

Manheim Township High School

It was an ordinary day.  Thinking back to my high school days when my math teacher was a gentleman whose body was twisted enough that it required two canes to maneuver around his classroom.  Mr. Lewis was one of my favorite teachers at Manheim Township High School and gave me the notion that maybe I could be a math teacher like him after I graduated from high school. So, I applied to nearby Millersville State Teacher's College in Millersville, Pennsylvania.  

Millersville's Old Main as it appeared in mid-1900s

A month or so later I received a call from the college asking if I could visit the college and meet with someone in the admission's office.  You bet!  I was so excited that day back in early 1962 that I can still remember dressing up for my interview. They sat me down and after a moment or two told me that my college board scores weren't high enough for their math curriculum.  But...would I be interested in their Industrial Arts program?  "What would I do in that program," I asked.  "You could become a shop teacher, and they are in great demand."  So, I became a shop teacher, after three-and-a-half years of studies and student teaching.  Seems shop teachers were in such demand that I didn't even have to graduate to begin teaching.  So, this squirrelly looking guy with the big black glasses began teaching at York Eastern High School in York, Pennsylvania.  I taught Wood Shop during the second-half of what should have been my senior year at Millersville.  I was in heaven!  I was a teacher...just like Mr. Lewis.  But, after a month or two it became apparent I didn't want to drive almost 40 minutes to get to school each day, so I asked my brother Steve, who happened to be a high school senior at Manheim Township at the time, if he would ask his basketball coach, Mr. Eheman, whom I had as a shop teacher when I attended high school and who happened to be the chairman of the Industrial Arts department at the High School, if he had any job openings for the next school year.  I was still living at home at the time and the following day my brother came home from basketball practice and said, "You got the job!"  Did I mention that Industrial Arts teachers were in great demand?  The following week I met the Superintendent of the school and signed my contract for the 1966-67 school year.  

Showing two of my students how to set type.

I began teaching wood shop and metal shop my first year, then talked Mr. Ehheman into letting me use a small classroom to teach graphic arts.  It was a special time in my life, especially since my girlfriend, Carol, and I had plans to get married on June 17 of 1967.  The following year I had a few graphic arts classes and a wood class.  That summer in 1968 I also began to do all the in-house printing for the district.  Stationery, envelopes, event tickets, etc. were all needed and I was the one to print them.  

I'm showing a student how to use the new offset press.

I used a hand-operated platen press with type that I had set by hand and locked in a chase to place on the press.  The following year the school district allowed me to hire one of my students to help me, since they were beginning to give me much more to print.  A new, small offset press was also purchased for my Graphic Arts class. A year or two later I talked Mr. Ehemann into allowing me to start a class in photography and it was approved.  I was in heaven!  We used the Industrial Arts "smoking room" as the darkroom, which didn't sit well with a few teachers who now had to use a storage trailer outside to smoke.  It was close to this time that my friend from elementary school, Jere, joined me as an Industrial Arts teacher at Manheim Township, our Alma Mater.  We lived a few blocks away from each other most of our lives and he had married his high school sweetheart, Sue, who graduated with both of us. He spent a few years in the Navy before starting classes at Millersville.   A year or two later I made the mistake of adding, just as a joke, a few hundred gallons of fuel oil to to be delivered to my home address, to my yearly high school requisition.  I was called into the office and Mr. Hower, the very large High School Principal, didn't think it to be funny, since the secretaries had to spend time typing all the purchase orders and he had to sign them.  I apologized, but knew it wasn't the end of it.  The end came the following year when I was called into the office and Mr. Hower told me that I would be the new rifle coach.  I looked at him and said, "But I don't know how to shoot a rifle!"  

State Champions!

Didn't matter...  seems it was my punishment from the previous year.  But, I found I didn't really have to know much about the rifles, as long as I knew the personalities of each boy and girl who came out for the team.  And, to my amazement, as well as many others I must admit, my rifle team eventually won the Pennsylvania State Championship.  It was the first team State Championship Manheim Township had ever won in any sport!  Follow along with me tomorrow as I take you with me on more of my teaching journey.  It was 
another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The Lancaster Newspaper named our Rifle Team, "Team of The Year"
These were the five best shooters on the team.  Click to enlarge.

The "The Rule Of Age 10!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Googling "Rules of life" to see what may appear on my desktop.  Some rather interesting, but perhaps strange, topics appeared on the page after page of results.  Topics such as: The Age 55 Rule, The 10 Rules of Change, 10 Rules for Writing Numbers and Numerals, Ten Basic Rules of Netiquette or Internet Etiquette, The Rule of #1,  The Giver "Rules" Flashcards, The New Rules of War, 10 Rules Of The Playground, The Rule of 72 and one that I found most intriguing...The Rule of Age 10.  Naturally had to click on the last rule I have listed and came to a page that featured a story that was posted in Reader's Digest's The Genius Section.  "The Rule of Age 10" has a subtitle of Want to find the key to happiness?  Think about what excited you most when you were in fifth grade-and do it now.  My first line of attack was to call my good friend Jere whom I have known since 1st grade and ask who we had as a fifth-grade teacher.  Seems it was Mrs. Ryder, the mom of one of our classmates.  

The 1st grade class at M.J. Brecht Elementary School in 1950.
Jere is front row right and I am top row left.  Marilyn in in white
dress, front row center. Click on image to enalarge.

I tried and tried to think of what interested me in 5th grade and I couldn't think of a darn thing, except the neighbor girl named Marilyn.  So, I then tried to think of what I may have done during summer vacations on either side of 5th grade and then..Bingo, it hit me!  It was the Christmas before I entered 5th grade that my Aunt Doris bought me an Army Pup tent as a gift.  The following summer I set it up in the back yard, used my small printing outfit I had received for my birthday that September and I was in the printing business.  Lancaster Press sat next to our backyard and the workers would throw their used slugs (metal lines of type cast on a Linotype machine) in a bucket by the back door.  It was very convenient to my yard and I would "borrow" a few of them, ink them with my large ink pad and press them on the sheets of paper I had taken from my dad's desk.  Presto...I was printing!  Little did I know how much that influenced me, since I later went to Millersville State Teacher's College where I became a teacher in the Graphic Arts, or printing.  Little did I realize that my entire life was influenced by that summer when I was about 10 years old.  Called my friend Jere once again and asked him what he did that summer, besides get into trouble with me.  

Jere and I standing in front of our old elementary school
a few years ago.  Our 1st grade classroom was bottom right.

He recalled heading to the Railway Express Station near our homes every day to be with his father who worked there.  His mom worked elsewhere so Jere had to go with his dad to the train station for the day.  No big deal, since he loved the train station.  At times I would join him to watch the trains or grab a coke from the cooler at the Railway Express office.  Jere eventually went to Millersville and began his teaching career with me at the same school we graduated from a few years earlier.  But, he worked part-time at the Historic Strasburg Railroad as a fireman on one of their historic steam engines.  

Friends for 70 years, Jere and Larry

Jere also constructed one of the neatest HO railroad systems you'll ever see.  All because he was influenced by the railroad when he was about 10 years old.  Wow!  Seems that the writer of the story in The Reader's Digest, called "The Rule of Age 10", researched many others and sure enough it was the "Ah, Ha" moments at the age of 10 that influenced hundreds of people's future employment, be it a full time job such as mine or a part-time occupation such as Jere's.  The author of the story, Bruce Grierson, wrote that the trend was so striking that after he had finished his writing, he started telling everyone who was floundering in midlife, "Try to remember what you were all about when you were 10. If you kept a diary, dig it out.  If you're still in contact with friends from that era, call them up.  Ask them who you were.  It is 10 years of age when you graduate from being just anyone to visualizing what you may enjoy to do with your life.  You may not realize that, but it seems to be true.  You will experience the biggest surge of intellectual horsepower in your lifetime.  So, as a parent of a child about 10 years old, make sure you turn on the high beams in your child's life and reveal the road ahead.  It may really be what they will become in the future.  That is if you believe what you just read.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

The "A Remarkable Memory From My First Year Of Teaching!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  On April 2, 2019 I received the first of a few emails from a fellow named Steve.  It read:  Hi Mr. Woods...Have been on Facebook for about 2 weeks and found your blog.  Would like to connect to talk about my printing experience.  Steve Graver.  

Steve Graver, 1969 graduate of MTHS.

Recognized the name immediately!  Steve was one of my students the first year I taught Graphic Arts at Mannheim Township High School.  I had begun teaching wood and metal shop in the fall of 1967 at my alma mater and found they still had the small print shop next to the drafting room.  Asked my department head, Mr. George Ehemann, one of my former shop teachers, if I could start a program in Graphic Art and that was the start of over 30 years of Graphic Arts students at the high school for me.  During that first year Steve Graver was one of my Graphic Arts students.  Tall boy with a great smile and glasses.  The class that year was all boys and had several in it that went on to the field of printing after graduation.  

Steve and his wife Pat.

I had over 100 students a year for 33 years, so it is easy to forget the names and faces of many of them.  But, Steve was one I remembered.  Very polite young man who had a keen interest in printing.  So, when I opened my email on April 2 I was anxious to learn more about my former student.  The following day I sent him a short email telling him I'm not sure I would recognize his face anymore, but I certainly remember the name.  Asked where he lived and told him my two sons were also in the printing trade.  Told him about my retirement and a few things about himself.  Wasn't long before the return email came telling me:  There is so much to share in 50 years time.  Then he hit me with the story of being my mom and dad's paperboy when I lived with them on North Queen Street.  

Steve and Pat with their family.

Don't remember seeing you much,  think you may have been in college at the time.  I think you had a pretty cool car.  He lived at 926 N. Prince St., a block from my house.  After graduating from M.T. in 1969 he got a job at Intel Printing Company and married his high school sweetheart Pat Gilroy.  Ten years later he moved his family to California where he ended up in Napa Valley printing wine labels.  

My wife Carol and son Derek who is holding our new
daughter Brynn in front of 925 Janet Ave.

He retired in 2103.  He raised a family of 7 children with his youngest son continuing in the printing industry, just as my son; who is working at LNP, formerly Intel Printing Company.  Steve sent me a photo of he and his wife.  Didn't recognize him; I remembered him with glasses.  Grabbed the 1959 yearbook and sure enough, Steve had glasses.  In another email he told me he had cataract surgery to correct his vision.  I also wore glasses since I was 12 and recently had cataract surgery and no longer wear glasses.  

Steve's wife Pat, the little girl on the far right,
 when she was young in front of 925 Janet Ave.

But, I wasn't prepared for what came next.  He told me that when his wife was young, her father moved his family to Lancaster when he got a job at nearby RCA.  They lived at 925 Janet Ave. a few years while waiting to have their house built.  As I read this part of Steve's story to my wife I looked at her...we were both in shock!  We lived at 925 Janet Ave. for 29 years.  We bought the house in 1968, a year after we were married.  Emailed that to Steve and his wife found photos of her family in front of 925 Janet Ave.  It brought back memories for both our families.  We plan to stay in touch and hope Steve and his wife of 50 years, Pat, can return to Lancaster for Steve's graduating class' 50th Reunion.  Going to have to get together and relive the past 50 years.  Too bad mom and dad aren't around to see if they would remember their paperboy from the mid-1950s.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.   

The "Staffing The High Schools Of The Future" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Talking with the office girls at Manheim Township High School (MTHS) in Lancaster, Pennsylvania about something I had read in the morning paper about the city School District of Lancaster struggling to add minority teachers and staff.  I taught at MTHS, a northern neighbor to the Lancaster district, for 33 years after moving there from a school in nearby York County.  I was also a student at MTHS in the late 1950s and early 1960s.  During my four years of high school I can't remember a single minority student in the high school.  One of the office girls, a former student of mine as well as her husband, who both happen to me my next-door neighbors, told me that she can remember one minority student in her graduating class in 1979.  I now do the yearbooks for the middle and intermediate schools for the district and find that minorities have become a large part of the student population in Manheim Township.  But certainly not anywhere near the minority population in the city high school.  This year in the School District of Lancaster the student body contained: 60% Latino, 17% Black, 13% White, 5% Asian, 5% Multiracial and less than 0.1% American Indian, Alaskan, Hawaiian or other Pacific Island Native.  The problem is that they employ teachers in the ratio of: 89% White, 5% Latino, 4% Black and 2% Other.  They struggle when it comes to finding qualified minority teachers.  So they have just begun a new program that will start in the fall with their Freshman class.  The program will help "keep and develop" students' interest in teaching.  Hispanic students are the focus, but no student will be turned away.  The district is attempting to hire teachers who look like their students.  Last year when new applications were reviewed, only 10% were minority applicants.  Nearby Millersville University, a traditional teachers college, is struggling to produce new minority teachers since last year they graduated only 69 minority teachers.  Lancaster School District is trying something new with a program called the Color of Teaching Initiative.  Those minority teachers graduating from Millersville with a bachelor's in education and are part of the new program will be guaranteed a teaching job.  The program will also provide the students in the program with leadership opportunities, professional experiences, a support group network and faculty mentor.  By creating this new program and helping with role models for the students, they are hoping to benefit with more minority teachers.  As for MTHS, this year they had 4 minority teachers in a school that had 1811 students with a population that was: 68% White, 14% Hispanic, 9% Asians, 5% Multi-Racial and 4% African American.  As you see, they too need to hire more minority teachers if they expect to reach all students.  Times have changed dramatically since I went to, and taught, high school.  A bigger challenge indeed, but I believe it will provide a much bigger learning experience for today's students.  Now they just have to supply role models for the diverse population they already have.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.     

The "A True Friend Comes To My Aid" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Hammering in a nail on the new cedar siding that I purchased a week ago.  Today's story actually began years and years ago after I had been teaching for a few years.  My teaching position was at Manheim Township High School in the Industrial Arts Department.  For those not familiar with Industrial Arts, before that it was called shop and today it is known as Technical Education.  In the state of Pennsylvania it is a required course in the curriculum.  I began as a metal shop, wood shop and drawing teacher, but after a few years I was teaching entirely Graphic Arts and Photography.  A few years after I began at the school another shop teacher by the name of Hal was hired to replace a retiring teacher.  Hal had taught in New Jersey, but made the move to Pennsylvania to teach.  We became friends as well as fellow teachers, but didn't socialize very much.  We each had growing families that took up our time as well as I worked at the school doing all the in-house printing needs for the school district while Hal became part of a group of shop teachers who did home construction during the summer.  

Hal is preparing to cut the next piece of cedar siding.

Hal and I retired from teaching in 1999 and have retained our friendship with department picnics, monthly retired teacher breakfasts, going to shows and concerts with our wives as well as taking photos of his bee-keeping hobby.  Hal is a master craftsman and I featured a story about a grandfather's clock he built for one of his three girls.  I recently had to do some demolition work on the corner of my garage at my home due to carpenter ants and after realizing the rebuild was too much for me to handle by myself and talking to Hal about it, he asked if I needed help, I decided to take him up on his offer.  Having worked more in the printing and photography trade for many years, it was great to have someone so familiar with the building trade to help me with my construction.  

Sliding another piece of tongue and
groove siding into place on the wall.

Hal knew exactly what was needed and helped me obtain the building supplies as well as supply many of the tools needed.  I thoroughly enjoyed working with Hal and getting a chance to talk about the "good old days" as well as learn a few things from him.  I must admit I was totally exhausted at the end of the first day of work and Hal suggested we call it a day when he saw I was struggling to keep up with him.  A few more hours the following day and my rebuild looks great.  I need to wait a few weeks and then I can stain the wood to match the rest of the house.  Hal and his wife Jeanne and Carol and I are marking our calendars for the summer to head to a few music concerts together with a meal before each one.  Had the best time renewing an old friendship with a great guy.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The final result thanks to Hal.

The "The Art Of Printmaking" Story

One of the very first block prints I did during my class in Graphic
Arts.  I worked along with the students to show them how to
use the tools and how to make the prints.  This was from a 5"x7"
piece of wood that had linoleum attached to it.  After printing I
used water colors to add some color.   Below it is a sheet of postal
stamps.  My students weren't expected to mat and frame their work!

It was an ordinary day.  Looking at a few of the block prints that I made maybe fifty years ago while teaching Graphic Arts at Manheim Township High School in Lancaster, PA.  One of the first projects my classes would do each year was a linoleum block cut which taught what was referred to as relief printing or printing from a raised surface.  

The Lancaster Museum of Art at the Grube Mansion.

To accomplish the project the students would draw a design on a linoleum block what was "type high" or .918" (the height of a piece of lead type used to print the letter.  They would then use cutting tools to cut the background from the block, allowing what remained to be inked and printed in a relief press.  During every class I would work along with them so they could see what I created and follow my lead.  

Pictured here is a wood block and a linoleum block that
can be used for printmaking.  The wood block has already
been cut with a design.  The tool could be used to do the cutting.

What we were accomplishing was what was known as print- making.  The four forms of printmaking are relief (woodcuts - and sometimes done on linoleum), intaglio (also known as etching and done on metal or plastic), screen printing which is printing through the image, and lithography which is printing from a flat surface (which would be printing from a metal offset plate or printing from a stone).  

Another relief print on display at the museum.  It is on
wood and shows the tools used to create it.  

Recently two shows opened in Lancaster, Pennsyl- vania on the art of print- making.  One show was at the Demuth Museum in downtown Lancaster titled "Print- making through History: Artist Prints" while the second show, titled "The Art of he Big Print: Master Lancaster Printmakers" opened at the Lancaster Museum of Art in what is known as the Grube Mansion, a few blocks from the Demuth Museum.  

This press was on display in the museum.  It
could be used to print blocks that were type high.

I chose to visit the later since the show featured six local printmakers who were each given a large 30x40 inch piece of Baltic birch wood on which they could make a relief print.  Hand tools, such as metal chisels, were used to cut the design in to the wood.  It was then inked with a roller and printed onto paper.  The areas of the piece of wood that were cut away will not receive ink and therefore not print.  I visited the Lancaster Museum of Art and had the chance to see the six large prints.  Two of the artists work in woodworking with the remainder being involved in education in either administration or teaching.  

A sample from one of the six artists in the show.  This print
was done by the head of the art department at a local high school.

I loved walking from one large "block" to the next, examining each and having the chance to see the final result.  Also on display were some of the tools used by printmakers as well as a small press that could be used for printing the blocks.  My hope is I get a chance to visit the Demuth Museum to have a chance to see a few other historic examples of printmaking.  I never tire of viewing results of what I taught while a high school teacher.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "It Was All About The Whole-Wheat Pancake" Story

It was an ordinary day.  That was for all but a young Lancaster inter-city teacher named Kyle.  A little over a week ago the Lancaster City School District administered the PSSA tests to all students.  PSSA stands for Pennsylvania System of School Assessment and is given to all students to decide how much money the state of Pennsylvania will be giving to the school district the next year.  School Districts that do well on the test usually fare better than those that do not.  Lancaster School District's Edward Hand Middle School is located in an impoverished area of the city with 95% of the students coming from households with low-incomes.  The school offers free breakfast and lunch to all students everyday of the school year.  For many they are the best, and perhaps only meals, they get each day.  It is also a proven fact that students perform better when they are well nourished.  On the day the test was administered, breakfast was offered to all students.  One young teacher, Kyle, took it upon himself to go one step further and prepare one whole-wheat pancake for each student in his classroom he was monitoring that morning.  There is nothing in the rules for administration of the test that says you many not give students a whole-wheat pancakes while they are taking the test.  There is a rule that teachers should not do anything that would interfere with actively monitoring the test.  So what do you think?  Well, when it was found that Kyle was passing out whole-wheat pancakes during testing he was visited by the administration and told he was being suspended without pay for making whole-wheat pancakes for his students while they took the exam.  He was also told that a vote for his termination would be held the following Tuesday evening at the school board meeting.  Kyle is a well-respected teacher by all his students.  He has taught eighth-grade social studies at Hand since 2013.  He carries the title in the school as the "eighth-grade dad" by not only students but by their parents.  He also is the Student Council co-adviser and coached the school's basketball team the past two years.  He was also the high school freshmen athletic manager.  Hey, do you know how hard it is to find someone like him?  I taught high school for close to 35 years and it's tough to find teachers who are willing to take on extra-curricular duties.  And here is a guy that goes way beyond the call to duty...and whose students love him.  Well, the next day, after finding out that one of their favorite teachers was going to be fired, one young girl organized about 30 other Hand students as well as a few high school students who more than likely had Kyle as a teacher in the past, and stood outside the school for over two hours in protest to his firing.  The young lady told the newspaper that the only distraction in the classroom was when the assistant principal entered to admonish her teacher, and not eating pancakes.  The young teacher told the Lancaster Newspaper that he was suspended without pay until the school board could vote the following night at the monthly meeting.  The newspaper contacted the school about the problem and they replied that no teacher can be dismissed without the School Board first approving a written notice that offers the opportunity for a School Board hearing.  This past Tuesday night at the School Board meeting over 100 parents came in support of their children's favorite teacher, as well and their own favorite.  The large group was told there was never any action taken to get rid of Kyle and there would be no vote taken on the problem.  He was still a part of the staff of Edward Hand Middle School.  No where did I read about the following applause and cheering, but I'm sure there must have been some.  Every school has teachers who are liked better by students than others.  Doesn't mean they are a better teacher or know more about their subject than other teachers, but it does tell you that special teacher have a knack of communicating better than maybe others can.  And, from my own personal experiences, Middle School, or in my case Junior High School, history was not one of my favorite classes I had as a student.  It is tough to teach and tough to learn and if you can get a teacher that can make history exciting, good for them.  And evidently Kyle was one of those special teachers and the students as well as their parents knew that.  I'm so happy the problem was absolved and if they don't want it to happen next year, the PSSA testing services should add to their rules:  No serving Whole-Wheat pancakes during testing!  If they don't, I'd be surprised if other teachers don't try to feed their students something nourishing also.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "17 Inches" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Just opened my email and there was a note from my childhood friend Bill who lived a few houses from me before having to move with his family to a nearby community during third grade.  We have kept in touch since then with short visits as well as notes, emails and chats on the phone.  His email today was titled "17 Inches".  I opened it and began reading it with much interest, since I am a big fan of baseball.  But, the story he sent to me is much more than about baseball ... it's about life.  Take a look at what he sent to me and see if you too don't agree.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Twenty years ago, in Nashville , Tennessee , during the first week of January, 1996, more than 4,000 baseball coaches descended upon the Opryland Hotel for the 52nd annual ABCA's convention.
 
While I waited in line to register with the hotel staff, I heard other more veteran coaches rumbling about the lineup of speakers scheduled to present during the weekend.  One name, in particular, kept resurfacing, always with the same sentiment — “John Scolinos is here? Oh, man, worth every penny of my airfare.”
 
Who is John Scolinos, I wondered.  No matter; I was just happy to be there.
 
In 1996, Coach Scolinos was 78 years old and five years retired from a college coaching career that began in 1948.  He shuffled to the stage to an impressive standing ovation, wearing dark polyester pants, a light blue shirt, and a string around his neck from which home plate hung — a full-sized, stark-white home plate.
 
Seriously, I wondered, who is this guy?
 
After speaking for twenty-five minutes, not once mentioning the prop hanging around his neck, Coach Scolinos appeared to notice the snickering among some of the coaches.  Even those who knew Coach Scolinos had to wonder exactly where he was going with this, or if he had simply forgotten about home plate since he’d gotten on stage.  Then, finally …

“You’re probably all wondering why I’m wearing home plate around my neck,” he said, his voice growing irascible.  I laughed along with the others, acknowledging the possibility.  “I may be old, but I’m not crazy.  The reason I stand before you today is to share with you baseball people what I’ve learned in my life, what I’ve learned about home plate in my 78 years.”

Several hands went up when Scolinos asked how many Little League coaches were in the room.  “Do you know how wide home plate is in Little League?”
 
After a pause, someone offered, “Seventeen inches?”, more of a question than answer.
 
“That’s right,” he said.  “How about in Babe Ruth’s day?  Any Babe Ruth coaches in the house?” Another long pause.
 
“Seventeen inches?” a guess from another reluctant coach.
“That’s right,” said Scolinos.  “Now, how many high school coaches do we have in the room?”  Hundreds of hands shot up, as the pattern began to appear.  “How wide is home plate in high school baseball?”
 
“Seventeen inches,” they said, sounding more confident.
 
“You’re right!” Scolinos barked.  “And you college coaches, how wide is home plate in college?”
 
“Seventeen inches!” we said, in unison.
 
“Any Minor League coaches here?  How wide is home plate in pro ball?”............“Seventeen inches!”

“RIGHT!  And in the Major Leagues, how wide home plate is in the Major Leagues?”
 
“Seventeen inches!”
 
“SEV-EN-TEEN INCHES!” he confirmed, his voice bellowing off the walls.  “And what do they do with a Big League pitcher who can’t throw the ball over seventeen inches?” 

Pause. 

“They send him to Pocatello !” he hollered, drawing raucous laughter.  “What they don’t do is this: they don’t say, ‘Ah, that’s okay, Jimmy  If you can’t hit a seventeen-inch target?  We’ll make it eighteen inches or nineteen inches.  We’ll make it twenty inches so you have a better chance of hitting it.  If you can’t hit that, let us know so we can make it wider still, say twenty-five inches.'”  
 

Pause. 

“Coaches… what do we do when your best player shows up late to practice? or when our team rules forbid facial hair and a guy shows up unshaven?  What if he gets caught drinking?  Do we hold him accountable?  Or do we change the rules to fit him?  Do we widen home plate? "
 
The chuckles gradually faded as four thousand coaches grew quiet, the fog lifting as the old coach’s message began to unfold.  He turned the plate toward himself and, using a Sharpie, began to draw something.  When he turned it toward the crowd, point up, a house was revealed, complete with a freshly drawn door and two windows.  “This is the problem in our homes today.  With our marriages, with the way we parent our kids.  With our discipline.

We don’t teach accountability to our kids, and there is no consequence for failing to meet standards.  We just widen the plate!”
 

Pause. 

Then, to the point at the top of the house he added a small American flag.  “This is the problem in our schools today.  The quality of our education is going downhill fast and teachers have been stripped of the tools they need to be successful, and to educate and discipline our young people.  We are allowing others to widen home plate!  Where is that getting us?”
 
Silence.  He replaced the flag with a Cross.  “And this is the problem in the Church, where powerful people in positions of authority have taken advantage of young children, only to have such an atrocity swept under the rug for years.  Our church leaders are widening home plate for themselves!  And we allow it.” “And the same is true with our government.  Our so called representatives make rules for us that don’t apply to themselves. They take bribes from lobbyists and foreign countries.  They no longer serve us.  And we allow them to widen home plate! We see our country falling into a dark abyss while we just watch.”
 
I was amazed.  At a baseball convention where I expected to learn something about curve balls and bunting and how to run better practices, I had learned something far more valuable.

From an old man with home plate strung around his neck, I had learned something about life, about myself, about my own weaknesses and about my responsibilities as a leader.  I had to hold myself and others accountable to that which I knew to be right, lest our families, our faith, and our society continue down an undesirable path.
 
“If I am lucky,” Coach Scolinos concluded, “you will remember one thing from this old coach today.  It is this: "If we fail to hold ourselves to a higher standard, a standard of what we know to be right; if we fail to hold our spouses and our children to the same standards, if we are unwilling or unable to provide a consequence when they do not meet the standard; and if our schools & churches & our government fail to hold themselves accountable to those they serve, there is but one thing to look forward to …”
 
With that, he held home plate in front of his chest, turned it around, and revealed its dark black backside, “…We have dark days ahead!.”
 
Note: Coach Scolinos died in 2009 at the age of 91, but not before touching the lives of hundreds of players and coaches, including mine.  Meeting him at my first ABCA convention kept me returning year after year, looking for similar wisdom and inspiration from other coaches.  He is the best clinic speaker the ABCA has ever known because he was so much more than a baseball coach.  His message was clear: “Coaches, keep your players—no matter how good they are—your own children, your churches, your government, and most of all, keep yourself at seventeen inches."

 "Don't widen the plate." 

The "The Thrill Of Being Young Again, If Just For A Fleeting Moment" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Carol and I are watching TV as well as checking our emails when she says to me, "Look at this!"  She passed me her iPad and there in the middle of the screen was a photograph of me!  

1998 photography of LDub wearing my
trusty Light Impressions apron covered with
a layer of priinter's ink and photo chemicals.

"Where'd you find that?" I asked her. "I opened an email sent from Renee Logan Heller and up popped your photo.  It says My HS photography teacher." Wow, pretty neat!  Read a bit more on her email and found that she was cleaning her garage and found quite a few old photos and was going to place all of the on her Facebook page.  Pretty neat that she had one of me amongst the collection of old photos.  I had Renee as a student in 1997-98 in my Photography Class.  The class was open only to seniors and I had quite a few students in the black and white film course.  I taught everything from photography history to composition to film and print development to a month long session where I invited guest professional photographers to speak to my class.  This was the era when digital photography was just taking hold and the year before I retired from teaching.  Didn't hear from or about Renee until last year when I was taking photographs at the school district's Landis Run Intermediate School for their yearbook.  Someone tapped me on the shoulder and when I turned around there stood Renee.  

Photo of Renee on the right and her mother
who worked in the cafeteria.  I suspect it
was she who snapped my photograph.

Recognized her face immediately, but the arm length full of tattoos and the purple hair were quite different than I had remembered.  I immediately recognized the camera and flash and knew she was here for a reason.  She told me she had become a professional photographer and was asked by a few parents to take some photos of the same event I was taking photographs of for the yearbook.  Renee's equipment was far superior to what I was using and she graciously agreed to send me a few of the photos she was taking for inclusion in the yearbook.  During our conversation I found out about her family and those who were in the school system.  Since that time I have seen her several other times and became friends with her on Facebook.  Neat to know that one of my students enjoyed photography enough to make it their career.  Well, it wasn't long before quite a few comments began to appear on her Facebook posting of my photo.  It was like being back in school once again.  Names I hadn't heard from since years ago began to appear.  Luckily all comments were very complimentary!  I did have to respond to several due to the nature of their responses.  Greg C. responded with just a "Let's eat."  Knew right away what he meant.  I had Greg in the same class as my youngest son, Tad.  

Renee's photo as seen on her
Facebook page.

The class was held just before lunch.  The lunch room was right next to my room and if the class would have everything cleaned up before the bell rang, I would let them leave early so they could get in line first.  As we sat quietly, looking at the clock, I would say, "Let's eat," and we'd all head to the cafeteria.  I responded to Greg with a comment of my own when I typed: "I remember when Tad needed lunch money and after giving him the money, he stepped aside and there where you, Josh and Ryan standing with your hands out, waiting for me to give you lunch money also."  Boy the memories!  Besides all the nice comments I also had quite a few "Likes", one coming from Jim E. who now teaches black and white film photography in the same classroom.  Jim and I have become good friends over the past few years and his "Like" was greatly appreciated.  Name after familiar name popped up again and again and I was having the best time reading names and comments.  So, now for one of my replies: Dear Renee,  Thanks so much for making me feel young again and getting the chance to relive some of the best years of my life over again, if just for a fleeting moment.  Came at just the right time!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Life's Memories Never To Be Forgotten" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Found an old black and white photo of Old Main on the campus of Millersville State Teachers College.  I can still remember the day I went for an appointment in the admission's office that at the time was located in the lower level of Old Main.  Scared half to death of what was going to happen that day.  I wanted so bad to gain entrance to the college to make my mom and dad proud.  No one in either my mom's family or my dad's family had ever gone past high school and I was going to be the first.  Maybe!  My high school grades were only average, but my guidance counselor at Manheim Township High School thought I could gain admission to the school.  

Old Main on the campus of Millersville State Teachers College.

I was called into one of the admission offices and sat, more than likely shaking, as the woman went over my high school records.  She said, "I see you want to be a math teacher someday.  Your math grades are very good, but a few of your other grades are only average.  Do you suppose you would be interested in admission to our Industrial Arts Department (IA)?  I believe you would be a good candidate for that curriculum."  I know that was fifty-five years ago, but I'm almost positive they were her exact words.  I remember looking at her with surprise on my face and saying, "I'm sure I'd like that!"  And that, dear readers is how I became the first person in my family to go to college.  At the time I had a part-time job working at the Acme Supermarket and was able to pay my tuition, books and car expenses with the money I made working.  At the time tuition for a semester was $144.00 and books cost under $50.00 for all I needed.  I lived at home for free and began Millersville State Teachers College in the fall of 1962.  Did great in all my Industrial Arts classes and could have had close to a 4.0 grade average if it hadn't been for a few courses I had to take.  A few I had to take over one time, with one I had to take over twice.  I passed that one final class on my third try only because my wonderful IA adviser managed to get my class changed from that history class to a class in bowling.  I aced that one!  In my fourth year I began student teaching during the fall semester at a nearby high school, teaching in the wood shop.  Two thirds of the way through the semester, my cooperating teacher took off a day to go hunting and put me in charge of the class by myself.  That day he had a heart attack and died while hunting.  For the rest of the semester I was in charge of the class.  Not long after a bill was passed in the Pennsylvania Legislature prohibiting school districts from allowing student teachers to do exactly what I had just done.  I would have had zero liability if a student had been injured in any of the classes I had, and the school would have been responsible. I believe to this day that my Millersville adviser, who visited with me once a week at that high school, put the wheels in motion to have that bill passed.  As I began my spring semester back at Millersville, I was called into the Industrial Arts office and asked if I would be interested in teaching the next fall, even if I didn't have enough credits to graduate.  

Millersville State Teachers College

By that time I had a special girl who I was dating and knew I wanted to marry her so I interviewed with three local school districts and got a job at all three.  You see, Industrial Arts is a required subject in the curriculum of all Pennsylvania schools and they had to have an Industrial Arts teacher to teach the course.  Didn't matter if you graduated or not!  I taught the following year on an emergency certificate, got engaged, married the month I finished teaching my first year and graduated at the end of that summer.  So, you see, when I saw the photo I have posted with this story, it brought back so many memories from way back.  Memories I will never forget.  Happy memories, except for those three classes I screwed up!  But, I did become a much better bowler!!It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Living In A Black & White World" Story

Entrance into the darkroom is through
this revolving door.  Another exit door
into an outside hallway was also in the room.

It was an ordinary day.  Stopped for a visit in the classroom where I used to teach graphic arts and photography at Manheim Township High School in Neffsville; a small town to the north of Lancaster, Pennsylvania.  Just had to make a visit to the darkroom that I designed when the school was built and made sure I took my camera with me to document the occasion.  I taught photography years before digital cameras were available to the consumer which was late in the 1990s.  The students loved loading their own film into cassettes, taking photos with their SLR (single lens reflex) camera, developing the film in the darkroom and watching as the photo appeared on their photo paper in the tray filled with developing chemicals.  Talk about learning!  

Some of the old cameras that the new teacher loans to
the students for the class.  Not many people still have
SLR cameras that use film to take photographs.

And, I enjoyed teaching them how to do it as well as watch their faces as they saw the image magically appear in the tray.  As I stood in the darkroom today, aglow from the yellow-orange colored safelights, it brought back so many fond memories.  I looked around the room and noticed all the enlargers where the students made their black and white prints as well as the developing sinks in the one end of the room where they developed their film and prints.  

A bulk loader in a box with film cassettes.

Place looked almost the same as it did when I retired in 1999, but slightly updated with new plumbing and new safelights.  The darkroom which I designed was one of the best public high school darkrooms in Lancaster County and the prizes that my students earned in the National Scholastic Art and Photography Contest were unequalled.  The darkroom was actually a room off the graphic arts room, but large enough that I could hold classes in the room while there was another teacher teaching in the graphics room.  We had some of the best times in that little room.  Many a time I invited professional photographers from the community to talk to my classes about anything from portraiture photography to aerial photography to agricultural photography.  

The developing tanks sit, ready to develop the black and
white film that the students will use to make their own prints.

That little darkroom was a special haven at times for students who were unsuccess- ful in other classes, but ended up being successful professional photo- graphers in real life.  I have a few books and photographs at home from some of those students.  Then digital cameras arrived and I retired, but that darkroom is still very much alive with students, and a new instructor, who love to explore the almost forgotten art of black and white photography as it used to be.  Don't you just love it!!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Under safelight conditions, I took a few photos.  This is of one wall that holds enlargers used to make prints.

Sitting on a print holder is a test wheel used to select the perfect exposure time to make your print.

One of the three safelights in the room helps light the room without destroying the print paper.

The "That's What Makes You So Funny!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Everyone's laughing at me it seems.  Happens often at times when I am speaking and trying to remember a word or two.  When the word doesn't appear when I need it, I just say another word that absolutely makes no sense at all.  And that, my friends, is what makes everyone laugh.  I'm not trying to be funny, but I guess what comes out of my mouth is different, or funny to some.  Ever have trouble remembering what you want to say or what you want to do?  How about trying to remember where you put something or where you are going?  Tell you the truth, I have been like that all of my life.  

For 33 years I taught school and there wasn't a single year that I could remember every student's name I had in class, even by the end of the year.  When lecturing to my class about … let's say the invention of movable type, I would begin a sentence and by the time I reached the end, or close to the end, I would have no idea how I was going to end the sentence.  Usually just said the first word that came to mind when I reached the point where I needed the correct word to finish my sentence.  "German inventor Johannes Gutenberg developed a method of movable type that was used to create the Forty-Two-Line library pass!" I would tell my class as they looked at me and all began to laugh.  "I meant Bible!" I would say a second later when it came to me.  Made for some interesting lectures.  Often wondered why my students enjoyed my lectures so much.  Probably were taking bets on how many times I would say some silly or stupid word while lecturing to them.  Those momentary memory lapses I'm told are common, and they're not just for those who are getting older.  May explain why I've had them all my life.  When with friends, someone will ask me a question and I can't seem to instantly find the answer, but give me a few minutes and the time for the wheels and cogs in my head to begin turning and I will almost always recall the answer.  And then, I'll spurt out the answer and more than likely end the sentence or thought with a word that makes no sense.  All my life I have felt that a person's body and mind can only withstand a certain level of recall.  If the pain in my body is more intense on a specific day, my mind is more sharp and recall is easier, while if I have no physical problems, my recall may be more compromised.  Something like ... even steven!  While on a recent vacation I from time to time used the wrong word while talking which usually made no sense at all.  Didn't do it on purpose, but my mouth was functioning faster than my brain.  "I didn't say that on purpose," I said.  "But, that's what makes you so funny!" my wife said. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "The Ancient Art Of Bookbinding" Story

Water Street Bindery

It was an ordinary day.  Knocked on the old blue door that sits under the historical sign that tells of the one and a half story house that demonstrates the architecture during the period of early settlement of Lancaster which dates from 1730.  The doorknob is a round brass sphere with a small brass shield over a keyhole to the left of the knob.  On the side of the home, high above the alleyway, is a sign that states "Water Street Bindery".  House caught my eye as I walked past, since I recently talked to the President of the Ephrata National Bank who told me the Water Street Bindery rebound the Santa book that is kept in the safe of the bank when it is not being signed by generations of children who made visits to Santa and signed the book telling of their love of Santa and what they wanted for Christmas.  

Tony preparing a piece of leather for
one of his restorations.

Lost yet?  Well, I just had to stop in the bindery to find out what they do in this neat little old house on Water Street in the historic city of Lancaster, PA.  Knocked a few times until a young woman opened the door and asked if she could help me.  I entered the shop and was greeted with memories from the past.  By now, many of you probably know that I taught Graphic Arts in high school and part of my curriculum was a section on bookbinding.  There, sitting in front of me in the center of the small room, was a small guillotine paper cutter which at the moment was serving as a coat rack.  Looked much like the one I have in my garage I use for trimming jobs I still print for the high school where I taught.  The young woman, Anna, had taken her seat by a window and continued with her preparation of twine that she would use on the spine of a book she was working on at the time.  

Guillotine paper cutter disguised as
a clothes tree.  

I walked into the next room to meet Tony, the owner of the bindery.  Tony has been in the bindery business for 40 years and the owner of the Water Street Bindery for 30 years.  It is obvious the skill he possesses just by watching him at his trade.  I stood next to him as he worked on a piece of leather that he was scraping to reduce the thickness of the leather at certain areas in order to be able to shape it to the back or spine of a book he was working on.  At the time, he and his daughter Anna were rebinding a 27 volume collection of small books, that were an early edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica, for a collector who lived in San Francisco, California.  Tony and I talked about some of the binding procedures that he uses that have been used for ages as well as used by me in my classes I taught.  

Part of a set of Encyclopedia Britannica books that
have been rebound at the Water Street Bindery.

The shop was filled with an assortment of old binding tools and book presses as well as quite a few beautifully bound books.  I loved everything about the old house on Water Street, but knew it was time to leave and allow my hosts for the past half hour a chance to perform their skilled art of bookbinding.  

Anna prepares cords to be used on the spines of the books.

Oh yeah, Tony also remembered working on the book that had been signed for ages by young children who had made their way to visit with Santa in Ephrata and tell the jolly old guy what they wanted for Christmas.  As for me, I find that as I write stories for my blog, I meet some of the most interesting people who love to share their life's experiences and occupations with me.  I in turn have gained a great understanding of the people who, along with me, call Lancaster home. It's a wonderful city!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

Book press holding a set of backing boards which are used to form and round the back of a book.

One of many beautifully bound books that are found throughout the bindery.

The front door is a good display of the architecture throughout the homes on Water Street in Lancaster, PA

Anna works on the spine of one of the books in the Encyclopedia Britannia collection.  It is being held in the book press illustrated in an above photograph.