The "Time to Quit" Story

It was an ordinary day. We had just returned to 925 Janet Ave. with our third child. But, the story really began five years earlier. Carol and I were excited with the news that we were expecting our first child. Boy or girl? What name do we have picked out? What color should we paint the baby's room? All the same questions asked by everyone expecting the first. Well, we needed to start with equipping the bedroom for the baby. Crib, changing table, rocking chair! OK, now when will this little bundle of joy arrive at 925? Carol and Dr. M. estimated March 2nd. What's next? I guess wait! We went out and bought a baby's name book and picked out a few names for both a boy and a girl. At the time we were pro hockey fans and enjoyed games on TV. Our favorite player was Derek Sanderson. OK, there's a name. How about a girl's name. I don't remember! We just knew it had to be a boy. I think! That was a long time ago, remember. Well we waited and waited and waited. I was coaching rifle at MT at the time and every day after school I would go to the rifle range which had no phone in it and cell phones hadn't been invented yet. I would station one of my shooters by a phone in the school office in case Carol would call with a message. Well March 2nd arrived and no call. March 3, 4, 5, 6........ 19, 20, 21, then the season was over. Holy miscalculation!!! March 28th came and it was finally time. Derek Charles (named after Carol's father) was finally born at St. Joe's Hospital in Lancaster. 8 pounds, 15 ounces. BIG BABY. Just ask Carol! I can remember bringing him home because it was a cold, windy day and I placed the flowers we received in the hospital on the top of the car until I could open the door and they all blew off onto me as I reached for them. Time passed and we had the fantastic news that another member of the family would arrive. Already had the baby supplies so we were set. Oh yeah! The name. We studied the book for a girl's name and a boy's name. We were big TV game show fans now and I saw a neat name for a girl on one of the game shows, Brynn. Goes to the top of the list! Really, that could be for a girl or boy, right? The date picked this time by Carol and Dr. M was almost right on and Brynn Ann (middle name is Carol's middle name) became a fire cracker with a July 4th birthday at Lancaster General Hospital. I remember wearing my red, white and blue checked pants to the hospital to bring in some home made ice cream from our holiday celebration. Now, Brynn was 9 pounds, 9 ounces. REALLY BIG BABY, right Carol? As time passed we found out that Carol was expecting another addition to the family. Another name was needed. By now we figured we didn't need the book, since it did no good for the first 2. It was 1976, the Bi-Centennial year, and we decided we needed a patriotic name. I had a student in class by the came of Tad which I thought was neat and we managed to make that fit with Thadeus Stevens, a Lancaster signer of the Declaration of Independence. What if it's a girl? I'm not sure what we did about this. April 9th rolls around and Carol and I head to Lancaster General again for the birth of Paul (named after my father) Thadeus. A whopping 10 pounds!!! GIGANTIC BABY!!! OUCH!!!! Time to quit. It was an extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "State Champs" Story

It was an ordinary day. I'm trying to remember all that has transpired in the last few months. So, the story begins. Early September school starts and with that the start of the rifle season. Four years ago the HS Principal, Mr. Hower came to me and asked if I would coach the rifle team. It was only my second year of teaching and I figured if I wanted to keep teaching, I had better say yes. Well, you evidently don't need any qualifications to be the rifle coach, because I had only fired a gun once in my life and that was when I went hunting with my Uncle Bob. A shotgun! The rifle team uses Winchester 52D rifles with .22 long rifle shells. Hey, I still remember! Manheim Township entered the District III rifle league in 1936 and I was going to be the 5th coach in the storied history of rifle at MT. I had to do well, didn't I? I never told a soul that I knew nothing about guns. My gosh, I was from gun happy Lancaster County. My first year was spent learning how you wear the equipment, how a rifle match was run, the differences in the ammo and rifles and how to motivate the shooters. We did well the first year, but didn't win the league. The second and third years I learned more of the psychological parts of the sport of rifle. The group of students that I had started to develop as a team and accept me more as the coach. I had a group of freshmen students who started with me when I took over and who were becoming top notch shooters. Along the way I received valuable information from other coaches in the league, primarily Russ L. from CV, and from the officials who scored the rifle matches, primarily Fred S. whose daughter shot in the Olympics. It is 1972 now and my fourth year as coach. Two of my best shooters who would be seniors this year chose not to come out for the team for various reasons. I knew that may hurt our chances, but a few promising freshmen might fill the void. Boy did they ever! My captains for the year were seniors Dave Ament and Kristin Hill (one of 3 girls on the team who by the way are a calming influence for the team). In a rifle match your 10 best shooters go against the 10 best from the other team. Two shooters at a time from each team lay prone on a mat and have 15 minutes to complete their target which is a piece of paper about 9" x 12" with 10 bulls-eyes around the edge and one in the center for practice. The target is place 50 feet from the firing line. Your top score can be 100 or 10 points for each bulls-eye. If your shot touches just the center dot on the bull you are awarded an "X". Therefore a 100-10X is a perfect score. Nearly impossible! Your 5 best scores for the match determine your team score so a 500 is the best your team can do. If the score is tie after 5 shooters, you go to the next shooter. I have 17 shooters on my team this year and all are capable of firing 100 scores. As the season progressed we found that qualifying among our team for a match was sometimes harder than the match itself. We were good! We fired a 500 or better in 5 of our 12 league matches. Against our nemesis CV we had to go to the 9th shooter to determine the winner with the score being 894-893. We were beginning to realize just how good we were and they were trusting totally in me as a coach. You see from 50 feet away the bulls-eyes look like a big dot to the shooters who lay on the mat, a heavy rifle strapped to their arm that has only open sights, no magnification. I sit behind them with a spotting scope and after each shot tell them what adjustments to make on the rifle. Total trust in me is needed. We ended undefeated at 12-0 and headed to the Regional meet against Interboro, a team from the Philadelphia area. They had been State Champs for the previous 5 years and featured a team of mostly girls. They were great! Our team was better!! We beat them 700-699. Took 7 shooters, but we were up to the challenge with 8 of our shooters hitting the 100 mark. On to the State Final in State College, PA. We met Churchill, a team from Pittsburgh, and Pocono Mountain from the Northeast in the State Finals. During the finals each shooter had to fire at 2 targets with the top score being a 200. You did get 5 more minutes to complete your targets. Suspecting that we may have a chance this year, we started about 3 weeks before the end of the season to practice with 2 targets. I never mentioned why we did this at the time, but when we reached the finals they realized my intentions. Boy were we pumped that Saturday. My lead off tandem of Dave Ament and Steve Weibel both shot 200, with Dave's being a perfect 200-20X. By the time we were finished Bob Ulrich, Dave Miller, Jeff Brand and Suzi Zipperlein (200-20X also) had all shot 200. Other team members who shot that day were Kristin Hill 199, Tim Konrad 198, Jim Horst 196 and Charlie Morrison 195. Final Score: Manheim Township 1000, Churchill 999 and Pocono Mountain 990. It was over after our first tandem fired, really. The other teams couldn't catch us! WE WERE STATE CHAMPS! What a season. Dave Ament, Kristin Hill, Bob Ulrich, Suzi Zipperlein and Steve Weibel were all named 1st team Lancaster Co. All Stars with Tim Konrad, Jeff Brand and Dave Miller 2nd team. Dave Ament fired a 100 in every single match that year, an accomplishment that has never before or since been done in the State of Pennsylvania. In 1972 Dave fired forty-eight 100 scores during meets and practice. Kristin was right behind him when she captured the 1972 District Individual Meet with a 200-18X while Dave Ament was 4th with a 200-17X, Suzi was 6th with a 199-18X and Steve was 9th with a 199-17X. 10 team members fired perfect 100-10X targets in 1972. As a team we fired 311 100s that year in matches and practice. That's a lot of ammo and noise! The Lancaster Newspapers named our team the TEAM OF THE YEAR and the Pennsylvania House of Reps. presented citations to all team members honoring their achievement. In 2009 the 1972 Rifle Team was honored by Manheim Township School District with induction into the MT Sports Hall of Fame. When they called and told me, they asked if I would try to contact all the team members. Boy was I excited when I told my wife that I had to call all the kids to tell them the news. She said, "remember they're not kids anymore. Most are in their mid-fifties." You know, to me they will always be my kids. Had a great time meeting most of them again when we got together for a banquet and introduction at half-time of a MT football game. This team is very special to me, but also to Manheim Township since it is the ONLY team in the history of the school in any sport to ever win a STATE CHAMPIONSHIP. After the 1972 season the team presented me with a pewter plate that had all their names engraved around the edge and in the middle an inscription which read: Mr. Woods, "They were good, but not good enough!" It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. Names on the accompanied photo are: Front: Dave Aurand, Jim Horst, Dave Miller, Jeff Brand, John Garboczi, Middle: Tim Konrad, Mary Eckman, Suzi Zipperlein, Kristin Hill, Keith Williams, Steve Weibel, Rear: Dave Ament, Howie Eckhart, Bob Ulrich, Charlie Morrison, Scott Bennett, Jay Lockard, and LDub. Missing was Bob Spalding and Dave Hamby.

The "Missing Teeth" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were getting ready for a feast. Today is Thanksgiving and we are expecting the family for the traditional meal. Turkey, regular filling, oyster filling (my personal favorite), mashed potatoes, candied sweet potatoes (my personal favorite, also), cranberry sauce, creamed cauliflower (my personal favorite, also ), baked corn (my personal favorite, also), pumpkin bread, mince meat pie, pumpkin pie and cherry pie (my personal favorite, also). Attending the meal would be Carol and I and our three kids, my Mom and Dad who lived down the street from us, Alice D. our next door neighbor who was in her late 80s and a fanatic Phillies fan, my Grandpap and his longtime friend, Irene. Carol had spent the better part of the week preparing for the feast. The turkey went in the oven real early since our meal was at high noon. The table was set, house straightened up, glasses filled. We were ready for family. Mom and Dad showed up and I went next door to get Alice. Alice and her husband Frank were living next door when we moved in at 925 Janet Ave. in 1969. They never had any children and treated out kids like their own. Frank had died a few years ago and Alice really enjoyed spending the holidays with our family. We gathered around the table and Dad offered the blessing. TIME TO EAT! Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday. No, maybe it is Christmas. Doesn't really matter for this story. It is at this time that Alice announces, "I forgot my teeth. LDub, can you go over to my house and get my teeth? They are in a glass by the kitchen sink." Yea, right! Can't you just gum it today, I was going to ask, but didn't. No one else volunteered, so out the front door I went. A full set of teeth were in the glass just staring at me. Gross!!! I dumped out the water, put them in a towel and took them back to our house. I was hoping she would go into the living room to put them in her mouth, but no, she did it right there at the table. I'll tell you, I didn't see her do it. I had my eyes closed. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - Alice is second from left behind my daughter Brynn. My Grandpap is second from right behind my son Tad. How do you like the fancy wallpaper?

The "Monkey Business" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were having a party for a few neighbors and I had to go to Costco for a few supplies. As I approached the store I realized that I needed gas so I headed to the pumps. I pulled in line behind a very unusual VW Bus. Psychedelic paint with big flower decals. Pretty neat. The pumps were on the passenger side of the car which was where my gas cap was located. The driver of the bus was just getting out of the his door. Yep! It was his VW, no doubt about it. Hippy clothes and long flowing hair. Wish I had some of that! He used his card and lifted the pump handle. At this point he saw that his gas cap was on the other side of the bus, right behind the driver's door. He opened the passenger side door, wound down the window slightly, fed the pump through the window and closed the door. He moved to the driver's side, opened the door, wound down the window slightly and put the pump through the window, closing the door. It was at this time that I saw a small hairy hand and arm reach through the window. Now I realized why he had kept the windows up as far as he could. He had a monkey in the car with him. The attendant saw the hand and arm also and walked over to talk to the man and see his monkey. After finishing dispensing his gas he reversed his procedure to get the pump out of the car. Except!! He didn't close the driver's door tightly enough and it started to slowly open. The monkey was going to escape! Just then the attendant saw what was happening and slammed the door shut. On the monkey! I thought he killed him!!! Then I saw him on the dash of the bus. He wasn't moving. The attendant noticed the same thing and opened the door to see if he was OK. Mistake! The monkey grabbed his arm and pulled. The attendant managed to get loose and close the van's door. When the man came around his car after replacing the pump handle, the attendant told him what had happened. The man noticed that the arms of the attendant were both empty. He said to the attendant, "Where you wearing a watch?" Looking at his arm, the attendant said, "Yes I was." "Just a minute, I'll get it back for you." I'm sure this wasn't the first time that the monkey had stolen a watch. My guess is he was trained to do this! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Last Game" Story

It was an ordinary day. I had been getting ready for vacation for a few days. Usual types of things like making sure all the bikes have air in the tires, checking the oil and water in the car, getting the last minute groceries, canceling the newspaper and preparing for the dog to visit with my parents. Tonight will be my last softball game until after vacation. I ate an early evening meal before heading out to the game. Carol and the kids will come to the game closer to starting time. I am playing for Shufflebottom Realty in the MT slow-pitch league. I few friends asked if I would be able to pitch for the team this year and I agreed. I played baseball for years, then managed little league for many years. A few years ago I started playing slow-pitch softball and really enjoyed it. Game time tonight is 7:30. We play the second game of three at Stauffer Park. Field is lighted and has some seating as well as a refreshment stand. Great for families. I started pitching a few years ago when it became apparent that I couldn't run the fly balls down in the outfield and my arm from third and shortstop to first wasn't what it used to be. Knees were also starting to go so catching wasn't an option. The only problem with pitching is that you are extremely close to the batter when you release the ball. In slow-pitch you must arch the ball to a specified height before it crosses the plate. Very few if any strikeouts occur in slow-pitch so it is necessary to have good defensive skills. Game starts and we grab an early lead. The lighting in the park is adequate, but not outstanding. About the third inning I am facing a good line drive hitter. I release the pitch and hear the ball hit the bat. Next thing I remember is laying on the ground at the pitching rubber. Evidently the batter hit the ball and it struck me on the right side of my face, near my mouth. I am looking up at my infielders who seem concerned. Someone hands me my glasses which were knocked off my face. I can taste the blood and feel the pain in my mouth. They help me sit and grab a towel to put on my mouth. Carol is summoned to get the car and bring it to the side of the field. A few of my teammates help me into the car and off we go to the hospital. I walked into the emergency room with the bloody towel to my face and am escorted to a waiting room. A few minutes later a former student of mine in high school enters the room. "Hi, I'm Doctor P.," he greets us. He examines my chart and replies, "Mr. LDub, is that you?" My face is swollen and bleeding and he doesn't recognize me. After examination he tells me I still have all my teeth, but most of them have tried to come through my mouth. He numbs me and proceeds to clean the wound and stitch the inside of my mouth. Tells me to keep ice on my mouth for a day and be careful when eating. "Hey, we're leaving for vacation in another day," I tell him. "No problem. Just take these pills if you have any pain," he tells me. It's off for the beach two days later. Having a great time and then I start to taste something in my mouth. I find a doctor to go to and he tells me my mouth is infected. After re-opening the wound, cleaning it and re-stitching it, I'm on my way with more pills. When I get back to our rental, I tell my wife, "I think I have played my last ball game!! This isn't fun anymore!!!" It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Ecstasy to Tragedy" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were traveling to Ephrata's War Memorial Field for the District Three Class AAA baseball semi-finals. MT was facing Cedar Crest and our son Derek was pitching for MT. His record so far this year was 11 wins and 2 losses. Township had a very successful season and was trying to gain their first berth in the State playoffs. They would need to win tonight to secure that berth. But first, some of the best chicken corn soup offered at any ball game. One of my favorites. Now...... MT scored a run in the bottom of the first, and that was all Derek would need. He was throwing the ball past them and got stronger as the game progressed. Cedar Crest's lone rally came in the third inning when they opened the inning with 2 straight singles, but Derek fanned the next three batters to end the rally. After that, he retired 12 of the last 13 batters he faced, five by strikeouts. Township added an insurance run late in the game, but it wasn't needed as they won the game 2-0. By winning the game, MT reached their first District Final in the history of the school as well as qualifying for the State Tournament. This is where the story turns a little sour. In the heat of the post-game celebration, ecstasy turned to tragedy when Derek was mobbed by the team and suffered a very large gash above his forehead when the catcher's mask was pushed into his head. The injury really dampened the enthusiasm of the team and the fans. As our family watched the celebration I noticed that Derek was not getting up from the grass. I immediately started for the field and was told to wait while the medical personnel attended to him. Shortly after this I was allowed to go on the field to see what was wrong. Now, I can't stand to see blood and when I reached him he had blood flowing down his face and out his ears. Boy, was I scared. The Township trainer who I taught school with saw me and told me to stay out of the way. He knew how I handled the sight of blood. He got the bleeding stopped and bandaged his head and allowed me to see him again. He called for an ambulance and after waiting 20 minutes for it to arrive, decided that he and I should take Derek to the hospital ourselves. At the hospital Derek was visited by a plastic surgeon who put over 20 stitches in his head to close the wound. Next day he was scheduled to take a final, so he went to school. After the test his friends found him wandering in the parking lot, not knowing where he was. They drove him home and Carol called for an ambulance. He was given a CAT scan which showed swelling which they said was caused by his taking the test which resulted in excessive brain activity. That certainly isn't something that ever happened to me! Well, he needed a few days to recover, but was not able to pitch in the finals because of the injury. Township lost that game, but still made it to States. More on that in another story. It was an extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Hardluck" Story

It was an ordinary day. Carol and I were on vacation in Antigua with our friends Jerry and Just Sue. It was a beach day. Gorgeous!! Water was 85 degrees, sand was powder white and the air temperature was 89 degrees. Slight wind caused the palm trees to sway and cast moving shadows on the beach. In the water Carol and I went to cool off. Just Sue decided she would join us. I turned toward the beach in time to see Jerry dive into the water after us. I think he had his prescription sun glasses on when he dove in. When he surfaced he looked slightly different. No glasses! "Where are your glasses?" I asked him. He felt his face and had a horrified look to him. This was not the first time he had dived in the water with his glasses on, but it was the first time ever that he did not have them on when he surfaced. Now what??? The water was slightly cloudy today from a storm during the night so the visibility was poor. After about 15 minutes of scrapping my feet over the bottom I located them for him. Relief on his part. A short time later he has more news for us. "I don't have my wedding ring on my finger!" His marriage of close to 50 years is over. NOT! He has lost his ring in the ocean. This will be a little harder to locate, won't it? Yep! We searched and searched, but no luck with this one. A sad day for our friends. Well, a nap might help. Usually does on vacation. Jerry is sleeping with his newly found sunglasses on when a BIG fellow runs out of the water and starts yelling at him. "Stop staring at my wife, do you hear me?" he yells. Poor Jerry is now awake and realizes that someone is talking to him. It seems his head was pointed at the guy's wife as he allegedly slept. He does the wise thing and stays quiet. Not a real fun day on the beach for him today. That evening we head to supper and find out they have a dress code in the dining room. This is an English island and they like to dress up for supper. I was lucky because my shorts came below my knee, but Jerry's didn't. The Maitre d', in a loud voice, told him not to let that happen again. He can hardly wait to get to sleep tonight. Next day we travel to the capital, St. Johns for some shopping. Jerry heads straight for the first jewelry store? Now his hand has that golden glow around the ring finger. Well, the rest of vacation is uneventful for Jerry until we reach security at the airport for our return trip from Miami to Philadelphia. As we approach the X-ray units we read about the new imaging unit that they have installed. It can see if you have anything under your clothes. Shows a sample of a person taken with the new unit and you can clearly see that it is a male. WOW!! I remember when I was a kid I ordered a pair of glasses from a comic book that were supposed to see through people's clothes. Didn't work. But, this machine really did. As you might guess, Jerry set off the alarm and they shoved him into this unit and to take his picture. Knowing that someone close by was looking at him naked on a TV screen started to freak him out. After finding nothing on his person they released him. As we start towards our concourse he realizes he forgot his backpack. Now he has to return. Can't be good. He asks for his backpack and they ask him what color is it. He points to the one on the shelf behind them and says, "the blue one behind you." Well, now they really are suspicious, because the one he is pointing to is green. You see, Jerry is also color-blind!!! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Ole Ball Game" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was getting ready to go to the ball park with my friend Dave G. We lived within a block of each other at the north end of Lancaster. The ball park was about a half mile away and we walked that distance many times to watch our favorite team, the Lancaster Red Roses. This was a team in a single A league. Don't remember the name of the league, but doesn't matter anyway. Hey, it was baseball and it was my one and only love at the time! Dave and I had to cross over the railroad bridge to get to the park and always found the sign that said "Danger! High Voltage" to be really neat. We often challenged each other to climb on the top of the bridge and touch it. You can assume that I never did since I'm writing this. Last I heard, Dave was still alive also so I guess he never touched it either. We made our way to Stumpf Field for the game. Always showed up about and hour or two early so we could go behind the outfield fence and catch balls hit over the fence during batting practice. If you got a ball you could take it to the ticket office and they would admit you for free. If you snagged an extra ball or two you could trade them for a bag of peanuts and a drink or a hot dog. We had to fight the other neighborhood kids for the best spots where you would get the most balls. Pre-game was usually more exciting than the game. We also knew the guy who turned on the lights for the scoreboard during the game. He had a great seat in dead center where he would sit on a folding chair and watch the game and operate the scoreboard. Sometimes he would give us a few balls through the gate that led to his chair. Paid to be nice to him! OK, game time! We found our favorite seats behind the Roses' dugout and watched the game. Game time was 6:00 almost every evening. Only time it would change would be for a doubleheader. About the third inning, the umpires would have to stop the game for about a half an hour to allow for the sun to set. Seems they didn't plan the stadium very well and the sun was directly over the fence in center field. Got to see many famous players as they made their way up the ranks of the minor leagues. Most famous in my mind was Willie Mays who played for Williamsport. Years later when I entered high school, I had a teacher for social studies who one day pulled me aside and handed me a "Red Roses" baseball. I just looked at him and smiled. I said, "I THOUGHT you were the guy who ran the scoreboard. Really did pay to be nice to him years earlier. I got a good grade in his course. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Silent Hero" Story

It was an ordinary day. My parents and brother had gone to the store leaving me by myself. Always trouble! I was playing in my bedroom with my white mice, teaching them to climb up the extension ladder of my big red Tonka fire truck. They were doing pretty good when I smelled smoke. Real smoke! Went out onto the back balcony of our house. We were the last house on a block of semi-detached houses, one block outside of the city of Lancaster near the train station. My bedroom was located in the rear of the house above the kitchen and had access to a balcony through a door in my room. I looked down and saw smoke coming from the first floor. Quick put the mice back in their cage and headed down the stairs. I ran to the kitchen, but didn't see any fire or smoke. After checking outside I realized the house attached to ours, belonging to Deb and Bob B., had smoke coming from the kitchen window and back door. I hopped the fence and ran to the back door. Knocked and waited. No response, so I pounded on the door as hard as I could. So hard one of the windows in the back door broke. Now the smoke was really coming through the back door. Looked in the window and the kitchen was filled with smoke. Well, what do you do? I ran into our house and tried to dial the operator. We had a party line and sometimes you had to wait to use the phone if someone else was talking. Kind of neat being able to listen to your neighbor's conversations. I told whoever was talking that I needed to call for help and could they get off the line. In a few seconds I was talking to the operator and told her about the fire. She said she would call the Southern Manheim Township Fire Company immediately. This is a volunteer fire company about a mile from our house. My friend Jerry's Father is the fire chief there. In the meantime I went back outside and looked in other windows of their house. I saw that most of the smoke was in the kitchen, especially since I had helped ventilate the kitchen by breaking the window. I thought maybe I would try the back door and yep, the door was unlocked. Well what to do next? I opened it. Really good ventilation now!! Most of the smoke escaped through the back door and I stepped inside. Boy, if only my Mom and Dad were home. No...........it was probably best they weren't home or I'd be in trouble at this point. I saw that all the smoke was coming from a big pot on the stove. I turned the burner off and ran out of the back door. In the distance I could hear the sirens from the fire trucks. I waited in the house until I saw the first truck pull to a stop. It was at this point that I remembered that Jerry told me one of the first things they do is put up a ladder to the roof so they can chop a hole in the roof. Holy Cow!!! I panicked!!! They grabbed their ladders and started towards the front of the house. They were going to chop a hole in the roof because Deb and Bob had burnt meat in a pot on their stove in the kitchen. I quickly ran outside and told them I had called them and that the fire was out. I left them know it was in the kitchen and not to cut holes in the roof. I ran back in and locked the doors. Boy, I knew I was going to be in trouble when Mom and Dad got home. Later that day Deb and Bob came over to out house to tell us about what had happened while they were away. They said someone had broken a window in the back door, opened it and turned off the stove. They told us they totally forgot about the meat they had put on the stove when they left to go shopping. They said someone had saved they a lot of damage. If they only knew. If my Mom and Dad only knew. I never opened my mouth! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Lucked Out" Story

It was an ordinary day. I had just signed my teaching contract with MTHS which is where I graduated from. I was teaching at York Eastern at the time that I signed with MTHS. The traveling to York every day was getting boring and I needed something closer to home. The story of the beginning of my teaching career goes pretty much like this.......in high school I was an average student. My parents thought I should be the first in our family to go to college so I had to take college prep courses in school. Didn’t do too bad, but courses such as Chemistry and Latin weren’t my favorite. I didn’t know a single person who spoke Latin and memorizing the Periodic Table of Elements seemed to be a waste of time. I managed to survive and in my senior year I started looking for a college to attend. Price was and issue since I would have to pay for most of my education. The local college was Millersville State College and I filled out an application for this school. I received notice that I should call for an interview at Millersville to see what the possibilities of attending this school might be. The day of the interview I dressed in a coat and tie and went to meet with a college official. He asked why I wanted to attend college and I responded as I stated here. He studied my school records and said to me, “you really want to be a math teacher?” “Sure, that’s what I’m best at.” He then asked, “have you ever heard of Industrial Arts?” “No, what is that.” He proceeded to tell me that it was teaching manual arts or shop and that the State of Pennsylvania was in dire need of shop teachers. At that moment I became a shop teacher!! Did very well at MSTC except for the courses they made me take such as Chemistry and History. The history I needed to graduate so I took it 3 times. Not because I loved it that much, but because it took me that many times to find a teacher who needed things in his house fixed. After 4 years I needed one more semester to graduate, but they needed shop teachers so bad that I had 5 offers even before I graduated. Took the job at York on an Emergency Certificate. I was living at home when I started teaching and my brother Steve was a Senior at MTHS. He was a super basketball player and his coach was George E. who was also the chairman of the Industrial Arts Dept. I asked Steve to ask his coach if he had any openings in his department. At supper the next night Steve said, “Mr. Ehemann said I could have a job.” JUST LIKE THAT. Mr. Ehemann really loved my brother!!! Well, I went out the next week and signed the contract. JUST LIKE THAT. I was now a shop teacher at good ole MTHS. It was an extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Cougar" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were on our way to Baltimore, MD for the Quad A State Football Championship game. It was being played in the M&T Bank Stadium which is where the Baltimore Ravens play their games. Carol and I and our son Tad are to meet our daughter Brynn and our two granddaughters, Courtney and Camille at Inner Harbor to get something to eat before we walk over to the game. Playing in the title game this year is Arundel against our Son-In-Law's Quince Orchard Cougars. It's been an exciting year for Dave . Mand the rest of his team and family. They are undefeated at this point with a record of 13-0. Some close calls against some of the finest teams in the state, but no one was good enough to knock off the Cougars. Dave has turned out to be one of the finest coaches in the state of Maryland. He has acquired and developed the attributes over the past few years that turn average coaches into outstanding leaders. He is developing a list of former players who are making a name for themselves in all divisions of college football. Won't be long before a list of professional players will start. Tonight is Dave's team and coaches' first chance to win a State title. Back to the story......... our daughter called last week and told us Dave made arrangements for us to sit in the M&T box at the stadium. Amazing!! After supper at Inner Harbor we made our way to the stadium.. We had tickets already so we went directly into the stadium. Some 5500 high school fans filed into the stadium. Cold November evening. Seats were great. The Cougars seemed to be listless for most of the first half. By the end of the third quarter they were down by 16 points and some fans of Arundel were leaving the stadium. 12 MINUTES TO GO. In the M&T box we had kind of given up hope. Dave is an outstanding motivator and instilled such a positive attitude in this team that they weren't going to be denied the trophy. Just how good are the Cougars? Well, they scored 4 touchdowns in the final 7 minutes and 13 seconds to become the 2007 State Champs!! Quince Orchard 36, Arundel 30. What a game. They were voted #1 in the Washington Post Poll and Dave was picked as the Coach of the Year in the State of Maryland. Way to go, Dave!! We're proud of ya!! FINISH! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Home Plate" Story

It was an ordinary day. My friend Wayne P. had invited me to go see the Phillies at Veterans Stadium. His wife Barb had given him 4 tickets to see the Phils for his birthday and he had invited me and two of his friends from the police station. Wayne and I had been neighborhood friends for 15 years and had coached little league baseball together for many years. Wayne was excited to go because Barb had purchased seats behind home plate in one of the upper levels. It was a week day evening game and we left about four o’clock to make sure we got there in time for some batting practice. An hour and a half later Wayne pulled into the parking lot and since we had some extra time we got out the meal we had brought with us and ate it in the parking lot before entering. Wayne gave us each a ticket and we entered the stadium near third base. He told us to look for a specific section which was marked on our tickets, where our seats were located. We headed in the direction of home plate, but when we got there it was not the same section as on the ticket. Well, we walked and walked until we had found the section indicated on our tickets. We were definitely behind home plate, but this home plate was located in left field in the Phils bullpen. Front row seats in the section directly above the bullpen. Super seats, but I could see the disappointment on Wayne’s face. Hey, we were at a Phils game. Doesn’t really matter where we sit, but Wayne was sure Barb had told him we were right behind home plate. He thought she meant the REAL home plate where the catcher, batter and umpire are located. Game was fun and the trip home went well. The next day Wayne told me that the tickets were really behind the plate. At least in the 5 year old phone book that Barb had used to order the tickets. Seems that there was a page in the phone book with a picture of the seating at Veterans Stadium and the sections had been changed since the old phone book had been printed. Oh well. Good intentions and a good time! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Hobby" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were staying near Rehobeth Beach, Delaware with the family and ready to have a good time. The “We” is my wife Carol and I and our three kids Derek, Brynn and Tad. We were staying at a home in a campground type community which we had rented from a fellow teacher’s mother. Now......... some other information is needed for this story. For years before this I had helped my son Tad with a collection of insects, butterflies and moths. We had built cases to keep them in and displayed them with identification for others to see. Fun hobby. I’m not sure who had the most fun, Tad or myself. We would usually catch them with a butterfly net that another teacher at school had given me and then either put them in a jar with a chemical in it or place them in the freezer. We would attach them in the case with a pin or two. Well, we would find them anywhere. In the back yard, in neighbor’s yards, on the school playground, on VACATION........OK now back to the story. After unpacking, we needed to get some supplies for the week to come so went to the General Store for the supplies. First time in the area so we had never been to this store. After picking everything out that was needed we proceeded to the checkout. As we were finishing paying I looked up at the ceiling of the store and there was this beautiful light green moth. We did not have this one in our collection and I was not going to let it go. “Do you mind if I catch that moth on you ceiling,” I asked the clerk. Didn’t matter to her. I asked if she had a paper bag and a ladder that I could use. “LDub, you can’t climb up there. You’re embarrassing everyone!” my wife told me. “Won’t take long,” I told her. Well, I climbed the ladder and managed to get the new specimen in the bag. After climbing back down, I turned to find the rest of the family and they were no where to be found. Seems they really were embarrassed and went back to the car. I got in and my wife said, “time to get a new hobby for you and Tad.” It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Township Movie" Story

It was another ordinary day. Stan L. and I are headed to the Lancaster Airport for an assignment. We both teach at MTHS and our high school was being evaluated for accreditation. We were both on the committee that was to prepare a presentation for the evaluating committee when they arrived. Are mission was to take a helicopter ride and shoot video and still shots for the movie that was to be made. I had my 35mm loaded with film and a few more rolls in my pocket and Stan has one of his many video cameras with him. We pulled into the parking lot of the airport and walked to the hanger with the helicopter in front of it. "Pretty interesting helicopter," I said to the man dressed in uniform. "Yeah, it just came back from Viet Nam. It was used to transport ground troops. Those holes all over it are bullet holes for enemy fire." They were everywhere. Stan and I were shown to our seats, side by side on the right side of the helicopter. No door in front of us, just a metal chain. We are given headgear with microphones in them so we can correspond with the pilots. Strap yourselves in real tight we were told. No problem there. I ran the straps every which way to make sure I was still going to be in the chopper when it returned. I ran the strap from my camera around my neck for safety. Best move I ever made. The story continues..... We take off, or is it rise up, and head toward the school grounds. We are taking video and stills of all the schools in the district. We start with the elementary, go to the middle school and then head to the high school. I am having a great time talking with Stan and the pilots as well as taking plenty of film. A little trouble reloading the camera, but you just have to take your time. Stan started his video for the high school when his film ran out. He motioned to me he had to reload. After reloading he wanted to retake some of the high school shots to make sure he had them. He was just getting ready to put his camera strap back around his neck when to my amazement he said to the pilot "how about 90 degrees to the right." What did that mean? Yep, the pilot tipped the helicopter on its side!!! We were hanging there, luckily by the straps, with the ground right below us. The pilots laughed! Stan's camera never made it around his neck. I guess the movie will be still shots!! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. (Story in memory of Stan L.)

The "The Boat's on Fire" Story

It was an ordinary day. We had just arrived at Locust Point, MD for our summer vacation. The "We" is Carol and me and our three kids, Derek, Brynn and Tad as well as Gary and Sandy H. and their three kids Janelle, Eric and Rob. This is our first trip together. We are neighbors and go to the same church so we know each other well, but knowing each other and vacationing with each other are two different things. Well, part way through the week we found we needed something other than games, swimming and eating to keep the kids occupied. After some discussion Gary came up with the idea that we needed a boat, since everyone had a boat and were having a great time. Off he and I went with the kids to find a boat. Around the corner was a marina and they had to have a boat for rent. Sure enough, they had one, but we needed to come back in an hour so they would had time to prepare it for rental. An hour later we returned and were led out to the pier to see the boat. It was a large "wooden row boat" that happened to have an outboard motor attached to the back. Gary said, "I'll stay with the kids while you go out with him to see how it works." "Hey, wait a minute. This was your idea to rent a boat. I have no idea what I'm doing," I told him. But off I went with the guy to learn how to run the boat. Pretty easy really. Prime the motor, pull the cord and steer with the handle. Turning the handle would give you more acceleration. He told me he would take it out into the river and then let me give it a try. I waved good-bye to everyone and off we went. I sat in the front and he in the back. After half a minute I turned around to see what he was doing and realized something was wrong. "Is your boat supposed to have flames coming from the corner?" I asked after noticing the three foot flames. "Holy s**t," was the response I got. "Grab those buckets in the front and get back here." I did what I was told and we started throwing water on the fire. Seems the gas line had developed a sizable leak and the gas leaking out had caught fire next to the fuel cans. After what seemed like forever we put the fire out, but with all the water on board, we were starting to lean heavily towards the back. Next we had to bail. A half hour later, after rowing the boat back to the pier, I got off the boat. "I'll have another one ready for you tomorrow," he yelled. Yeah, right! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. (Story in Memory of Gary H.)

The "A Real Treasure" Story

It was an ordinary day. Carol and I as well as our traveling friends, Jerry and Just Sue, were on our way to the Divi Southwinds Motel in Barbados. We left the airport and found the van that the Divi had sent to transport us to our residence for the next 2 weeks. We were on the “Best of Barbados” plan which was supposed to include free meals, trips, discounted shows and free transportation to some places. And it did! We were pleasantly surprised with all the extras that were included. Our third night we were given free meal tickets to the Oistens Fish Fry. Oistens is a small town about 20 minutes from the Divi. It borders the beach and has a large fresh fish market as well as the large carnival area known as the Oistens Fish Fry. A real treasure we were told. We needed to provide our own transportation to and from Oistens, but how bad can that be. It isn’t far away. We asked at the motel’s front desk where we can get the bus. They told us directly in front of the Divi was a bus stop. We were told to look for a bus with a particular prefix on the license plate and we should be heading right as we exited the parking lot. Well, we walked past the guard station to the street, but didn’t see a bus stop. By now it was dark and we weren’t sure what the sign might look like. All of a sudden a bus came down the street and went right past us. We were on the wrong side of the road. Hey, we forgot that in Barbados you drive on the left side of the road. The bus stop was on the other side of the street. Across the street we went to wait. Shortly a VW type van screeched to a stop in front of us, the door slid back and a long haired man yelled, “get in, Mon.” We couldn’t even see the license plate. The 4 of us entered the van and realized it was packed. As we were about to tell him we would take the next one, the door flew shut, he told the driver everyone was in and the van accelerated. The van really was a taxi, I think, and the man who operated the door was called the conductor who collected the money and announced to the driver when and where to stop. The driver steered the van as well as blew the horn at everyone he knew, which seemed to be everyone on this route. The van had two rear seats that were meant to hold three passengers each and a middle seat that was meant to hold two while the conductor rested on one knee by the door next to the seat. Three more could occupy the front seat. I counted 17 in the van after the door slid shut. IT WAS PACKED! We were all going to the fish fry. Jerry and I were in the two seats near the conductor so he picked a conversation with us. “You like dancing?” he wanted to know. Didn’t give us time to respond before he proceeded to tell us he was a two woman man. One woman who did his cleaning and cooking, and one woman to go dancing. Interesting!! Another block or two later he pointed to a building and said to us again, “you like dancing?” Jerry said he couldn’t dance and received the response, “you don’t have to, Mon! They dance on your lap!!” Hey, novel idea. Luckily we arrived at our stop before we were told the rest of the dancing details. The fish fry consisted of fried flying fish (you read that right since these fish fly across the water and are caught with nets placed above the water, or so we were told), macaroni pie, fried beans and rice, fried plantains, fried chicken and Carib beer or Ting (a Caribbean grapefruit soda). Really tasty! And everything was free!! After the meal we walked the carnival grounds and then realized, WE HAD TO RETURN IN A TAXI! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Peeping Tom" Story

It was an ordinary day. It was early summer and I had just returned from Roots’ Sale in East Petersburg with my Grandpap. He had done it again. This time we came home with 11 guinea pigs from their livestock auction. I had come home other times with white mice, white rats, pigeons, rabbits and now this time with guinea pigs. None of the other “pets” had survived my home. Not because I didn’t take care of them, but they seemed to wear out their welcome. “What did you come home with now?” my Mom asked as she saw the box I was getting out of his Buick sedan trunk. “A couple guinea pigs for my Grandson,” my Grandpap told her. “What are we going to do with them?” she responded. Well, I started the next day on a permanent cage in my backyard for them. It was really neat! I had two halves which were each about 2 feet by 2 feet, joined in the middle with a hole big enough for them to go from one side to the other. One side was totally enclosed for bedding material, while the other side had 1/4” wire mesh on the one side and bottom for the droppings to fall through. The front had a long door to cover both sides and was hinged to open from the top. On the right side of the door I also had the wire mesh so that 2 sides and the bottom were open for ventilation. The top was covered with a heavy rubber material. My Dad helped me build it and it was a really neat cage. We put it on cement blocks so it was easier to feed them and clean it out. Dad bought me a bale of hay and a bale of straw. The hay was for eating and the straw was for bedding. I asked, “how do they know which is which.” But, they did. We also had to buy a BIG bag of rabbit pellets for feed. I guess they couldn’t read the label on that bag, since they eagerly ate them. I also would hook my wagon to the back of my bike and ride 5 or 6 blocks to the Acme Supermarket where they agreed to save lettuce greens for me. I made biweekly trips for the lettuce because they seemed to do nothing but eat. Well, I found out they were doing something else! It seems that 10 of the guinea pigs were females and 1 was a healthy male. By the end of the summer I had to build another cage to hold my new “pets.” It was at this point that my next door neighbor, Bob B. took notice to my new venture. Bob was a kind of strange man. He was married with no children and closer to my Grandpap’s age then to my parent’s age. My parent’s couldn’t figure what fascinated him so much about my guinea pigs, but they let him help me. He set up cages in his garage for his collection of pigs and drove me to the supermarket for the lettuce. He would take me to the local stock yards where we would search through the pens for hay and straw that we could have for free and load it in burlap bags, put it in his Studebaker sedan and return home. He found an outlet for our guinea pigs. Once a month a man would arrive, weigh the young pigs and buy all over a certain weight. We would get $1.00 a pig. I later found out they were for a research laboratory, but I never knew what they did with them. I’m sure you can guess that. After 2 years I had amassed enough money to purchase my first car, a 1953 Henry J (read about it in another story). Shortly after the purchase of my car, my parent’s caught Bob B. peeping in our windows at night. The police suggested to my parents that I give up my business with Bob B. I was 16 now and ready to show the chicks my new Henry J so I had no problem giving up the guinea pig business. Had a good time while it lasted. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Vacation" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were getting ready for vacation. Going to the Caribbean this year with our friends Jerry and Just Sue. This time we will try Antigua. We had made reservations about 6 months ago and it finally is time. We decided upon Antigua by a vote. We get together and make a list of where we might want to go, then vote on the final choice. Must be a majority vote or we do more discussion. This year we voted 3-1 for Hawaii. Whoops! How come we're heading to Antigua? I said, "LDub doesn't want to spend 15 hours in a plane when we could go to a place we have never been before that has all the same qualities and was only 5 hours away." I should have been a politician, because I swayed two of the votes to my side. I went to AAA this week and exchanged some US money for some EC money. Tour book said I could get a better deal if I did it before I left. Carol, my wife made a 3-page list this week for our son Tad who will house sit and take care of Gunther and Otis, our 2 cats. Almost time to go, but I must finish ironing my clothes and packing my suitcase and weighing it to make sure it isn't more than 50 pounds. Last year I bought this device that has a big hook connected to a scale that you fasten into your suitcase handle so you can check the weight. I weighed the suitcase at least half a dozen times and each time it was a different weight. How can that be? Well it be. I then tried my old way of hopping on the scale and weighing myself, then getting back on the scale with the suitcase. Should have saved the $10 I spent on the new device. I was convinced that it would be helpful to take along for weighing on the return trip and packed it anyway in my carry-on bag. "What is this thing with a big hook on used for?" the people checking the luggage at security asked me. After showing them it wasn't dangerous, they let me pass. I will take it again this trip, but will put it in my checked luggage. I have put all my camera equipment in my backpack with my iPod and electrical adapters. Oh, wait! I forgot. Carol and I must first stop for gas and pick up my Mom and head to a surprise 60th birthday party for my brother Steve tonight. Just Sue and Jerry will hopefully arrive soon after that from State College where they live. It seems they had a snow storm yesterday. When the arrive we will relax for a few hours before heading to the airport. Plane takes off at 6:00 AM and it takes about 1 1/2 to reach the airport. You're supposed to be there 2 hours before flight time. When will I will sleep? Probably on the plane. Oh, yeah! I have to take my Bonine pill 2 hours before we board the plane so I don't get sick like I did last year. AND......... I must stop typing and pack up this laptop so I can share a few more stories with you while I sit on the beach, soaking up the sun and relaxing in the 85 degree water. Are we ready yet!!? It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "America's Sport Car" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were headed to Ocean City, MD with the Lancaster County Corvette Club. There were about a dozen vettes traveling in this caravan. Carol and I have a 1987 red on red, 5 speed coupe which has a rather stiff suspension system. That means it hurts to drive it too far, like three and a half hours to the shore. The lead Corvette, Tony and his wife have a walkie-talkie and the tail Corvette, Rick and his wife have the other one. This allows the caravan to attempt to stay together for the entire trip. Works sometimes! I’m not sure what route we took, but then it doesn’t matter since we are following the car in front of us. Then, all of a sudden the cars in front of us start to swerve. What’s up? It seems they have repainted the lines in the center of the road and have place cones every 25-30 feet apart on the line to warn you of the wet paint. With no cars coming the other way and the urge to drive the obstacle course, Tony starts to weave in and out of the cones. Now in a caravan, you do what the car in front of you does so we all start to weave in and out. Lucky the paint was dry. We finally make our way to OC and head to the motel which will be out headquarters for the next two days. We have come to drive in a Corvette Rally which features a trip down the boardwalk. We arrive at our destination and are glad for the chance to stretch and move about after the hours in the car. It is just getting dark when we arrive at the restaurant for dinner. Fun to travel with friends who enjoy the same hobby, Corvettes. We pull into the parking lot and into a space next to another vette. Into the restaurant for a good meal. It is now dark when we head back to the car. We get back in and see the vette in front of us has just pulled out so we realize was there and couldn’t see in the dark, since we are sitting only about a foot off the ground. Now what? I put it in reverse. No luck. Our back wheels are off the ground. I get out and check for damage and to see if any fluid is coming from the bottom of the car. I find the only fluid is coming from my eyes at the moment. Our club members see what has happened and after they stopped laughing they help lift the car off the barrier. Nice to have a car made of fiberglass. Enough fun for one day. Next morning we tidy up the car so there is no dirt or spots on it and head to the convention center where we will meet everyone and follow them to the south end of the boardwalk. As we start up the ramp to the boardwalk, we see the crowd which lines both sides for a chance to view the 300 or more vettes from all over the east coast. A few cars don’t make it. Some engines overheat, some manual trans overheat, and one runs out of gas. Guess he needs to fix his gas gauge. As we pass a point on the boardwalk, the snap our photo. REALLY NEAT! After the ride we head back to the motel, passing vettes which have not even had the chance drive the boards yet. We pack the car and head home without the caravan. A more leisurely drive without having to stay in line. What a fantastic experience while driving America’s Sport Car. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Balloon Ride" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was ready for my hot air balloon ride which my wife gave me for Father’s day. For years I said it would be really neat to take a ride in a hot air balloon. Well, figuring I really meant it, she got me a gift certificate for one ride. Today is the day. I travel to Ephrata which is to the north of Lancaster. After parking the car, I walked to the field where the balloon will launch. I have my camera ready for the fantastic day ahead and I start to take photos of the inflation of the balloon. There are 2 balloons and both are very colorful. The basket will hold about 6-8 people, but for this trip there are only 4 paying customers and the pilot. The basket is a square wicker-type material and I immediately notice that the sides of the basket dip down in the middle to about 4 feet while at the corners they are about 5 feet tall. As I stand in the middle I realize that if I lean over too far to take a photo, I may not be a member of the basket anymore. We lift off first and the thrill of drifting slowly and noiselessly across the farmland is surreal. The owner’s assistant follows the balloon in his van in case there is any problem. Occasionally the flame heats more air to keep up adrift. I’m not sure what height we are, but I would guess about 1000 feet. As we travel across the terrain, people look up and wave or call out to us. It is so different from land travel or even flying in an airplane. I have taken at least 2 rolls of film by now. All are taken from one of the corners of the basket, since I don’t trust the low sides of the basket in the middle. I prefer to return in the same manner that I started. We are now about to do a touchdown and liftoff which should be interesting. Somewhere in a deserted farming area, along a narrow paved road, we start our descent. The wind is now starting to pick up, but doesn’t seem to concern the pilot. We are just about touching the road, which takes a tremendous amount of skill on the part of the pilot, when an Amish buggy comes down the road. The pilot touches down and just as he fires up the flame to start the liftoff, the horse gets spooked and gallops next to us. Because of the increasing wind, the basket of the balloon scrapes along the side of the road catches on some brush and starts to tip over. It tips directly over onto the side where the pilot was standing. We all fall onto him and roll out of the basket. The basket continues to be pulled across the field by the half-inflated balloon until the assistant can control it. The pilot lays injured on the side of the road. We help attend to the pilot until the assistant can get the balloon and the basket loaded onto his trailer and then we help the pilot into the van for a return to our starting location. It sure was a fun time and I can hardly wait to do it again! NOT!! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.