The "A Sad Day For Music In The City Of Lancaster" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Opened the Facebook page titled "Remember When In Lancaster" and began reading the entries for the past few days.  One entry which I came upon was a photograph that read..."Anyone remember the Crystalaires from Lancaster?"  A black and white photograph accompanied the sentence.  The Crystalaries were a group from Lancaster, Pennsylvania and were the hottest act in town back in 1959.

Then on May 25 of that year, while coming home from a gig in nearby Reading, PA, they were involved in a horrendous automobile accident.  The headline in the Lancaster Intelligencer Journal the following morning told the story; "7 In Rock & Roll Combo Catapulted From Car By Crash."  An explosive crash on the Oregon Pike in Manheim Township shortly after midnight killed three members of a teenage rock-and-roll band when they were catapulted from one of the cars.  Four other members of the band were seriously hurt.  The dead were identified as: Kenneth Gray, about 15; Louis Wilson, 19; and Lawrence Speller, 17.  All three suffered fractured skulls and died instantly.  Those injured were Harold Keys, 17; Lewis Burross, 16; Robert Ray; and Ralph Speller, 19.  The driver of the other vehicle, Logan Carpenter 49, had serious lacerations to the head and face.  The boys were driving south on Oregon Road to Lancaster when it went off the side of the road and while the driver was trying to gain control of the car, it went across the road and hit an oncoming car.  Speed was to blame in the accident.  The car exploded and burst into flames.  The promising career of these seven musicians ended in a ball of flames.  The Crystalaires were members of the local Crispus Attucks Recreation Center.  A short time before the accident they had taken first place in the Hempfield Sertoma Club amateur contest.  The manager of the combo was William Zimmerman of 414 N. Queen St.  The evening before the crash they had held a rehearsal at the rear of his home.  They were planning on a benefit dance the following month at the Stahr Armory with the proceeds going to the Lancaster County Society for Crippled Children and Adults.  Kenneth Gray, the youngest member of the band, had recently joined as a vocalist.  19 year old Lewis Wilson was married with three children ages 24 months, 11 months and one week.  Lewis was also a member of the Hamboners which made four appearances on the national amateur television show, The Ted Mack Amateur Hour, in 1953 and 1954.  Ralph Speller would have been eighteen the next month.  On May 29th another headline read "Driver Is 4th To Succumb in Rt. 222 Crash". Harold Keys, 17, died at 5:30 pm.  The fourth death made the accident the worst traffic accident in the past four years in Lancaster County.  Harold was not a member of the Crystalaires, but had volunteered to drive the band to Reading for an audition and to arrange for future bookings.  Harold was a sophomore at Lancaster McCaskey High School and worked part-time at a shoe-shine parlor and sang in the Bethel AME Church choir.  

The Crystalaires

This tragic accident took the lives of a group of talented young musicians.  Earlier in the evening the group had been informed by their manager that King Records, from Cincinnati, Ohio had offered them a record deal and wanted them to come to Chicago to re-cut "Nobody Nowhere" for national release.  In July of 1960, Stan Selfon of Stan's Record Bar in downtown Lancaster released the 2nd version of the tune on Sound Souvenir No. 1.  

Stan's Record Bar in downtown Lancaster, Pennsylvania

The money raised would go to the families of those killed in the accident.  It is not known how many of those recordings may still survive and record collectors drool at the site of one of these rare gems.  The photo that accompanies the released record ( as seen above)  is not the original group which lost most of its members, but the reformed Crystalaires. Only 2 of the latest group were members of the original group.  The two survivors were Robert Ray and Eddie Speller.  The same Eddie Speller who was a member of St. James Episcopal Church and was one of the Three Kings of Orient in the Christmas Pageant every here.  He, along with Dr. James Martin and my dad Paul marched down the aisle singing their respective verses.  And, boy could Eddie sing!  Who knew what might have been, had all of the original members weren't killed that tragic night.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "I'm Telling You To Do It Right Now!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  What do you do on an ordinary day?  I usually begin my day by walking down my driveway and retrieving the morning newspaper.  Sometimes my cat Creamsicle would walk with me, but he has passed, so now I walk by myself.  In nice weather I find a seat on my rear deck and begin to peruse the front page of the paper.  Then I hit the obits and the editorial page before I check out the "Dear Abby" column.  What? You don't read "Dear Abby."  She offers some pretty good advice at times.  She must be good since she has been in the Lancaster newspaper for years.  The column was founded in 1956 by Pauline Phillips under the pen name of Abigail Van Buren.  Pauline wrote the column until 2000 when her daughter Jeanne Phillips began to help with the column.  Jeanne became the sole author in August 2002 when she announced that her mother had Alzheimer's disease.  Pauline Phillips died on January 16, 2013 at the age of 94.  So you see that much advice has been offered to the world by the Phillips family over the years.  I share this information since the column today deals with something close to me.  Column was titled "Suicide rate among older men is overlooking tragedy."  Writer wrote to "Dear Abby" telling her that her elderly father's dearest friend had recently committed suicide.  Shot himself in the head.  Seems her dad has lost three of his best friends to suicide recently and was wondering if he was secretly suffering.  The suicide rate for men 70 and older in the U.S. is double the overall suicide rate.  How can this be I keep thinking?  Many of my friends are over 70, as I am, and I now worry what they may be thinking of doing in the near future.  I have a few friends who have medical problems such as I do and I now wonder if they may have thought of ending their life at some time.  How do I tell if they are depressed?  I don't feel I'm equipped to be able to diagnose their depression.  The writer went on to ask Abby how can we help prevent these tragedies.  As for myself, I was certainly interested in the answer.  She first says that men aren't as open about sharing their feelings as women so it is very hard to tell if a man is depressed.  Many men, such as myself, were taught all our lives that expressing emotions made you "weak", so we have stayed silent.  Men who were the family "breadwinners" may have now retired and no longer are needed in that position.  They may now fell unwanted.  Abby lists risk factors that should be observed such as:  Have they lost a wife or significant other?  Are they alone and isolated?  Do they think they are a burden?  Do they have a firearm in the house?  Do they lack motivation or energy?  Have they lost interest in eating or getting out of the house?  Abby tells her audience that many think these things are happening because a person is old.  Hey, anyone can display these symptoms I just listed no matter what age they may be.  Should you just ignore the symptoms because someone is old?  She suggests you should try to get an older man to volunteer or use their lifetime skills to help someone in the same type of occupation.  Help them stay connected.  Her final thought for the day was if you need advice about how to approach a friend or family member whom you suspect may be depressed, call the national Suicide Prevention Lifeline.  Toll-free at 880-273-8255.  Could save a life!  Don't wait until it is too late.  Do it right now!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.  

The "March Is American Red Cross Month!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Carol and I are sitting in a museum in Johnstown, Pennsylvania watching a short film about the 1889 Johnstown Flood with our friends Jere and Just Sue.  We all have 3D glasses on which made the film even more authentic.  

Date was May 31 when the South Fork Dam on the Little Conemaugh River, 14 miles upstream broke and released 14.55 million cubic meters of water.  2,209 people lost their lives and the flood accounted for $17 million of damage ($474 million in 2019 dollars).  We were told that the American Red Cross undertook a major disaster relief effort providing support for the victims.  Got me thinking about who were all these volunteers that provided support to the victims and their families.  All goes back to the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71.  Clara Barton was visiting Europe and working with a relief organization known as the International Red Cross.  Upon her return to the United States, she began to lobby for an American branch of this international organization.  The American Red Cross was founded in 1881 and Barton served as its first president.  She oversaw assistance and relief work for the victims of the Johnstown and 1900 Galveston Floods.  

Trying to recruit members for the American Red Cross.

Just who was this amazing woman?  Clara was born on December 25, 1821 in Oxford, Massachu-
setts.  She was a shy child who found her calling when she tended to her brother David after an accident.  She became a teacher at age 15 and later opened a free public school in New Jersey.   She later moved to Washington, D.C,. where she worked in the U.S. Patent Office and eventually was an independent nurse during the Civil War helping soldiers.  

Clara Barton 1821-1912

She first saw combat in Fredericks- burg, Virginia in 1862.  She gained the nickname of "The Angel of the Battlefield" for her work.  After the war ended she worked for the War Department, helping to reunite missing soldiers and their families.  Then came the Franco-Prussian War and the start of the American Red Cross.  She resigned at the age of 83 from the organization amid a power struggle in 1904, but remained active giving speeches and lectures.  She also wrote a book entitled "The Story of My Childhood" which was published in 1907.  She died at her home in Glen Echo, Maryland on April 12, 1912.  

Clara Barton was honored with a U.S. Postage Stamp.

Her legacy to her nation - Service to Humanity - is reflected in the services provided daily by the employees and volunteers of the American Red Cross.  Due to her work and help during the Johnstown Flood, many people survived.  Today, every eight minutes, the American Red Cross brings help and hope to people in need.  March is "Red Cross Month" when we honor the heroes who are members of the Red Cross.  You too can be a hero by giving or sending a monetary donation or a donation of blood or maybe even working as a volunteer.  Our nation depends on the Red Cross.  Can they depend on you?  Uncover your inner hero and become a supporter or member of the American Red Cross.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. 

The "Lancaster's 'Mr. Downtown' Has Died" Story

Steve's store at 315 North Queen Street in downtown Lancaster, PA.

It was an ordinary day.  Trying to remember when the last time was that I talked with Steve Murray.  Steve couldn't be missed since he was over 6 feet tall and always dressed in vintage clothing.  How he ever found clothes to fit his frame was always amazing to me.  There weren't many people his size who lived in the 1920s to maybe the 1970s.  But, he always seemed to find something different to cover his frame.  

Steve in his vintage clothing.

I never got to know Steve very well, but did stop many times at his shop at 315 N. Queen Street in downtown Lancaster.  Shop was known as Zap & Company and featured vintage clothing and furnishings, estate jewelry, objects d'art and Art Deco lighting.  He had fur pieces from the 1940s, Hawaiian shirts from the 1950s, pins, pearls, cigarette lighters of all types, cocktail shakers, classic movie posters and compact discs, to name a few other items.  He opened his store in 1973 and always seemed to have a few people shopping in the store when I would stop from time to time.  I did enjoy his vintage Hawaiian shirts that he wore all summer.  

Steve with mannequin Hilda outside Zap & Company.

Now, I tell you all this since Steve, The "godfather of downtown retail" died this past Sunday after suffering a brain aneurysm.  Steve was 68 years old.  Steve's Zap & Co. was a treasure trove for period clothing and pop culture memorabilia.  The store was a source of costumes and props for many Hollywood productions, from James Cameron's "Titanic" to TV's "That '70s Show" to Woody Allen's "Radio Days".  

Inside photo of his store.  It was jam-packed throughout.

You just couldn't walk past the store without stopping out front and see what was in the window display.  The mannequins were dressed, and in some cases very scantily, in inventive ways.  The mannequin that stood by the front door, known as "Hilda" greeted customers in her latest get-up which was always picked by Steve.  

Remains of Zap & Company.

I may not have made many trips to the store, but after meeting me in the mid-1970s, he never forgot who I was.  Always greeted me as if I was his best friend.  But, on January 20, 2011 Steve's dream store was destroyed when a fire consumed his entire store.  The reason for the fire was never determined and the biggest asset to the store, "Mr. Downtown", was almost lost in the fire.  He recalls trying to reach for a fire extinguisher that was at the top of the basement steps when he must have fell and smashed the side of his head open.  The firemen found him, at first thinking him to be a mannequin.  

One of the few remaining memories I have.  A business card.

They did mouth-to-mouth and CPR on him and determined if he had been in the building another three or four minutes he would have died.  He was rushed to Lancaster General Hospital where he was first treated, but the severity of his burns was so great that they flew him by helicopter to well-known Crozer-Chester Medical Center in Delaware County for treatment.  Over a third of his body was burned.  

"Mr. Downtown"
You most certainly will be missed!

Both his arms and hands were burned with his right hand sustaining fourth-degree burns; burned to the bones.  Steve was in a coma for six weeks then underwent the first of 15 surgeries.  He had no memory of the fire.  Back in Lancaster shops in the 300 block of North Queen had signs asking people to pray for Steve's recovery.  Flowers and notes were left at the boarded up store at 315.  Steve went through quite a bit of physical therapy during his recovery.  But, his prized store, as well as his pet cat, was gone.  His sister and daughter were his biggest supporters during his recovery.  Today his pride and joy still is a vacant lot with a six-foot high black wooden fence in the place where Hilda one stood.  Oh, Yea!  Hilda did survive, but somewhat charred.  What happens now to the lot remains to be seen.  Whatever it is, it will never be as interesting and entertaining as Zap & Co. used to be.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "A Hero Named Lale" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Reading online about a young man by he name of Lale Labuko.  I'm sure most of you have never heard the name before.  If I hadn't been searching for the term "mingi" I probably would have never come across the young man's name.  Mingi is the traditional belief among the Omotic-speaking Karo and Hamar tribes in southern Ethiopia that children with physical abnormalities, those born out of wedlock, those whose top teeth come in before their bottom teeth and those whose married parents have not received the necessary three blessings by elders are ritually impure and ancient traditions dictate that grievous harm will come to the village unless the mingi dies.  Thus, they are murdered by pushing them off high cliffs, thrown in the river to drown or eaten by crocodiles.  It is estimated that these tribes kill almost 300 children a year.  As for the young man with the interesting name of Lale Labuko.....he came from the Kara tribe and grew up in the village of Dus which is by the Omo River in Ethiopia, Africa.  At the age of nine his father sent him to a boarding school run by Swedish missionaries.  His father was highly criticized for doing so, but it changed his life.  When he was 15 he witnessed the practice of Mingi.  Back in his village he saw elders grab a baby from her mother and take her to the river to drown her.  From that point forward he began working to save the Mingi children.  He currently runs a shelter for the so-called cursed children.  Three years ago he was featured in the movie "Omo Child: The River and the Bush" which followed him as he tries to end the practice of Mingi.  Together with film maker John Rowe, he founded the Omo Child Shelter whose mission is to provide a safe, nurturing home and quality education for rescued Mingi children living in the remote Omo Valley.  The hope of the shelter is that these children will become future leaders in their tribes and communities as well as raise awareness about the practice of Mingi and see its elimination in the tribes of the Omo Valley by the year 2030.  

Lale Labuko with natives from the Omo Valley.

I don't recall what I was searching for at the time I came upon the name Lale Labuko, but I will never forget finding his name.  Lale is now 30 and the heart behind OMO Child.  One thing that influenced him was the fact that he had two older sisters, both deemed Mingi, who were killed before he ever knew them.  Outlawing and stopping Mingi has become his life's mission.  His main objective now is to create Southwest Ethiopia's future leaders and help to end the practice of Mingi.  To be 30 and leading the fight to save his tribe is remarkable.  A true patriot and hero in my eyes.  In a country where we seem to have a daily national crisis created by members of all parties, wouldn't it be nice to find someone like Lale Labuko to lead the way?  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "For The Good Of Mankind?" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Taking my wife to a medical appointment in the nearby town of Mt. Joy, Pennsylvania.  Trip takes about 20 minutes from our home in Lancaster and as we approached the office we passed over the construction site of the Atlantic Sunrise gas pipeline that is going through Lancaster County, with or without the blessing of those of us who live in the county.  

Williams Partners timeline for the new natural gas pipeline.
Click on image to enlarge.

I know that there are times that we all must bite the bullet for the betterment of others, but this has to be the umpteenth time that we have been asked to endure running a pipeline under our county.  I can still remember a dozen or so years ago when a petroleum pipeline substation, if that's what you call them, burst into flames.  Wasn't more than a half-mile from my home.  

The petroleum pipeline "substation" near my home.
This area caught fire a few years ago.

Started during the day and lit up the nighttime skyline before finally being exting- uished.  So, in the beginning of 2014, when we heard about the pipeline coming through Lancaster County, many were...well, pissed off!  Quite a few protested the pipeline for years, but to no avail.  Hey, it's for the betterment of our nation we were told.  We were told that the pipeline project will increase economic activity by $1.6 billion in the project regions.  

Nun Adorers of the Blood of Christ's outdoor chapel.

Many people went to great lengths to to try and stop the project.  A group of nuns from the Adorers of the Blood of Christ religious order, which has been in Lancaster County since the 1920s, bought some ground that was to have the pipeline go through it and built a chapel on the land hoping to stop the construction.  The nuns have refused to sell an easement for the pipeline to the builder Williams Partners.  Over 300 people arrived for their first service at the outdoor chapel. Didn't matter.  The Partners won since it is for the betterment of our nation.  The 197-mile, $3 billion project was approved by the Federal Energy Regulatory commission and nothing will stop it.  Not even an old Native American cemetery which was in the way.  Now, I must admit that it was a fake cemetery with a half-dozen old tombstones planted in the ground adjacent to the pipeline right of way that evidently didn't look real.  

This orange pipe tells of the gas pipeline near my home.

The cemetery had tombstones, some leaning at different angles to look authentic, but the lack of moss and dirt led the hired archaeological group to find it was a fake.  Well, after Carol's appointment today, we returned the same route and I pulled to the side of the road and told her I'll be right back.  She knew I was going to take some photos of the pipeline site.  She said, "You know they're going to yell at you."  I responded, "They're not going to hurt an old man who limps."  And, I was right!  I walked to the north side of the two-lane highway to photograph the section that was almost complete, showing no visible sign of the pipe that had been planted in the mile or two I could see.  

The pipeline on this side of the highway is nearly complete.

I walked back across the highway, which they had tunneled under, and took a few photos of the equipment and piles of pipe that were being used on the south side of the road.  I saw a group of workmen and held my iPhone up to take a photo.  Waved to them and they waved back as I took a few photos.  I'm sure I'm not the first person to stop and take photos.  I must admit I was impressed with the construction site and the manner in which they dig the trench for the pipe, join the pipes together, seal the joint in a concrete unit and fill the trench with dirt.  I did have trouble estimating how deep they were burying the pipe.  This pipeline will carry natural gas from the Marcellus Shale gas sites in the north to points in the south.  

The natural gas pipeline can be seen in this photo.

The natural gas pipeline near my home allows nothing to be built on top of it.  A year or so ago I wrote of a few neighbors who had planted trees and shrubs over it and were required to remove them.  One guy had paved a spot and had his travel trailer parked on the paved spot.  He had to remove the paving.  Now, that should have been stopped before the guy paved the area.  Another year or two from now all the fuss will have subsided and life will go on.  The owners of Williams Partners will be more wealthy than they were a few years ago.  And, petroleum and natural gas will continue to flow underground a few blocks from my home.  Wonder how much it will affect the resale value of my home when I decide to downsize in the near future?  One thing for sure...Williams Partners won't care one bit.  Hey...it's all for the good of mankind, right?  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "God Help Those Who Must Visit With This Every Day!" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Parked the car on West King Street, plugged the meter, grabbed my camera and headed east, looking for a few architectural photographs for a story I am writing on architecture of the alphabet.  Walked two blocks east, taking photos of buildings on both sides of the street.  Finally reached the center of Lancaster, crossed the street and began my walk back towards my car.  The historic city of Lancaster, which is one of the oldest inland cities in the United States, is loaded with beautiful architecture from a variety of countries and time periods.  I had walked about half a block west when I came upon a scene I have read about many times in our local newspaper.  There in an side street known as Market Alley, which leads to Lancaster's historic Central Market, was a young girl laying on the cobblestones with a few of her friends surrounding her.  It was obvious that she was in distress with a blank look on her half-open eyes.  One of the young men with her looked at me and asked me what should they do.  "Did anyone dial 911?" I asked them.  Someone pulled out their phone and dialed.  One girl and one guy were knelling next to the girl, trying to place something under her head so it was off the hard stone surface.  Another was brushing the hair from her eyes.  By now her eyes were vacant with movement that showed the whites of her eyes.  

Photo I snapped as I headed away from the stressful scene.

I couldn't look anymore and walked away from them, hoping to hear sirens in the distance.  It seemed an eternity, but an ambulance came up King Street and one of the group waved it to the curb.  Out stepped the two paramedics who casually walked toward the young woman on the ground.  It was obvious by now that they had seen this same situation over and over again in the past.   One looked at her, without getting closer, walked back to the ambulance and grabbed something from his medic's kit.  It was at this point that I continued my trip back to my car, knowing I couldn't help,  not wanting to see the eyes of the young girl any longer.  The following morning I searched the newspaper for a story, police blurb or maybe even a small line telling about what had happened that beautiful day in one of the most beautiful cities in the United States.  My guess is that what had happened to this young girl has become so common-place all over the globe that it doesn't even make the daily newspaper anymore.  Many headlines tell the story of the drug Narcan which can be administered as a nasal spray when indicated for emergency treatment of a known or suspected opioid overdose.  And, even I, as old and inexperienced as I may be, knew as soon as I came upon the scene in the alleyway, exactly what had happened.  And, it will probably happen more than once again today as I write this story.  How many people will opioids kill in Lancaster today or this week.  How many have died this past year.  I constantly look at the ages of those who make the obituary page every day and wonder how many died of a drug overdose.  How sad.  And why does it have to happen?  I know I will never be able to wipe the look of that young girl from my memory, even though it was only a five-second glance that fateful day.  How can these paramedics do this day after day?  God bless all those who treat these people of all ages who succumb to the temptation of opioids for they must find it hard to close their eyes at night and not see that blank stare!  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Getting Back To Normal ... One Store At A Time" Story

The Guavaberry Logo

It was an ordinary day.  Opened Travel Talk Online (TTOL) and began reading a very interesting, but yet moving letter written by Stephen Thompson who is the managing director of Sint Maarten Guavaberry.  You may recall that on September 6 of this year the island of St. Martin/Sint Maarten was consumed by Hurricane Irma, a 5+ monster with winds in excess of 185 mph.  Much of the island was totally destroyed.  Carol and I have been in touch with a young woman on the island who we have been renting from for years.  Recently received a note from her telling us her home survived and she and her family are safe.  She is hoping that when Carol and I are ready to return in the spring that she will have a place ready for us.  

LDub making a visit to the
Guavaberry Store in Sint Maarten.

Time to begin a regular routine, if possible, so the island can get the tourist's dollar back into circulation and help the island recover.  It's tough to realize what is happening on the island, but the letter posted yesterday by Mr. Thompson may help all of us understand what the residents of the island have had to endure.  Mr. Thompson's business, The Guavaberry Emporium was always one of our stops when we visited the island and I have posted a few stories on this blog about the products they sell and the people who work at the store.  Read the following letter and you will see the reselince that is needed to return to normalcy and how the islanders are coping.  Life goes on in most of our lives, but for those on St. Martin/Sint Maarten, it is going to be a long trip back before they feel they are back to normal once again.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

Dear Friends of Sint Maarten Guavaberry, 

I am writing to give you a brief update on the visit of Hurricane Irma on 6 Sept 2017. Our Guavaberry office PCs were out for six weeks. If you wrote to us to offer moral support I am writing to thank you and to apologise for this long 8 week delay.

On 6 Sept, we on Sint Maarten/St Martin, St Barts and Anguilla, lived through the visit of eye of Hurricane Irma, 185 mph winds, gusting to 215 mph, the single strongest and most dangerous storm on record. Everything was knocked out - roads, seaports, airports, electricity, telephone, internet, water, transportation, homes, schools, churches, shops, supermarkets, marinas, boats etc. Every car on the island was damaged.

All our staff are OK. Some lost “everything”. Many lost their whole roof. Some had to evacuate to safer locations, in unheard-of lethal wind and blinding rain, terrified, alone or with young children and babies, in complete darkness, in the middle of the storm, in the middle of the night. And others, retreated to concrete bathrooms or huddled and piled up in concrete shower stalls for hours on end until the winds subsided. Young homeless families have been split up with children farmed out to those friends, relatives and neighbours who could help. And a few, some in houses with flat concrete roofs, suffered only minor damage. Outside of nuclear power plants elsewhere and the like, little was specifically built to withstand 185-215 mph winds.

The ancient Guavaberry Emporium, on the front of our idyllic premises in the middle of Historical Philipsburg at #8-10 Frontstreet, is a National Monument. It sits on the site of a short-lived Jewish Synagogue, built around 1784 and abandoned in the early 1800s. It contains our flagship shop, our offices and our small factory. It stood up to this storm really well. Our larger surrounding buildings – outhouses and storerooms were very badly damaged or destroyed completely. All our treasured trees, ancient tamarinds, almond and sea grape trees were decimated. I think we lost 30-40 years of tree growth.

Large natural disaster emergency response teams from France and the Netherlands brought huge quantities of water and food and supplies and machinery, materials and manpower to assist with the clean up. A dozen international charities showed up with tarps and water and food, tents and more. Marines from both nations provided vital security and enforced the curfew which facilitated a swift and orderly cleanup. They are still involved in rebuilding, even on a grand scale and also on a personal level, fixing roofs and houses in the neighborhoods.

While the airport has been receiving lots of emergency flights all along, on 10.10.17, Princess Juliana Int Airport reopened for commercial air traffic. Temporary buildings have been created while the beautiful almost new airport building undergoes extensive $100 Million repairs. Many of the airlines are flying again. Few in the outside world realised that the small airport in Grand Case, French St Martin, was open and fully operational from mid September with three daily Air France flights to and from Guadeloupe and the world. 

Cruise ships will return in mid December. The world famous Frontstreet stores are eager to reopen but at this time there are no potential customers walking the streets. I expect that most will be open in a week or two, even if just to show some signs of normalcy. If you or your friends are on Sint Maarten, shoot us an e-mail and we will be delighted to open our shop just for you.

The clean-up efforts have been incredible. Parts of the island look good. Alas, other parts of the island bear witness to what transpired here and those horrors will not disappear anytime soon. The emphasis on cleaning and fixing up and jump starting the economy is progressive and essential and a testament to the resilience of local people and businesses and government. But take a moment to recognize that there is and has been an enormous amount of human suffering and hardship here. By dawn on 7th September, this island looked like a warzone. Most sane people were in a state of shock. 

The Guavaberry retail stores are still closed. Our internet business allows our friends in the USA to keep our hot sauce products in the kitchen and on the table and this is always important to us. At this time when all our other wholesale and retail sales are below zero, our internet business keeps us busy and gives us hope. Remember that we cannot ship any of our rum products directly to “end-users” off island.

Our Guavaberry Rum Liqueur and our Republic Rum 5 and 8 year old vintage rums are available in liquor stores in the USA. You will read some locations on our website if you dig down well. Unfortunately inventory in the US is a bit low now and it will take some time to get it replenished. We received an order for the US in late August. Well September and October were wiped out by the storms, first preparing for them and the clean up and recovery. So, next week we will finish that order for the USA. It will leave here in two weeks. It will take 2 weeks to get to the US. Then it will take another 2 weeks to get to the stores. This is my best estimate for the time frame involved.

Thank you for reading this. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your support.

Stephen Thompson

Managing Director