The "Printed Woman" Story

It was another ordinary day. We are heading to a dinner show at the Ka'anapali Beach Hotel in Maui. Jerry, Just Sue, Carol and I signed up for the show at the hotel where we are staying for the week. Tonight the show is called "Kupanaha, Maui Magic For All Ages." That would be for us. It featured world renowned illusionists Jody and Kathleen Baran. I'm sure you've heard of them. Gourmet dinner, specialty drinks, cutting-edge illusions, legends of Hawaii's extraordinary demigod illustrated through the hula and chant of the award winning Kano'eau Dance Academy were all featured tonight. Can't wait. We all look great tonight in our Hawaiian dress. Wait, I'm the only one who has a Hawaiian shirt on tonight. The meal was good with island fish, shrimp, chicken and the usual vegetables found in Hawaii, but I passed on the marinated tofu. Then the show started. The Dance Academy was a group of about six that did the hula and other traditional island dances and chanted to most of the performance. Really great performance. Then the feature attraction, Jody and Kathleen Baran. Their two small children were also a minor part of the performance. "How did they do that?" my wife asked me after seeing Kathleen floating in mid air on her back. "That's easy to do. I'll show you when we get back to the room," I told her. "No way you're going to do that to me," was the answer. I was also amazed at the performance, but the best illusion (notice I didn't say trick) was when he brought out a small printing press, revolved it so we all could see it, and proceeded to pull his wife into the rollers until she was flat. Now that was neat! Now, how did they do that? I told Carol I have a press like that at school and I'm going to bring it home so we can try that. She just gave me THAT stare. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - photos are from the top: Display poster for the show, Jody putting his wife into the printing press and flat image of her coming out the front and Jerry, Kathleen and I after the performance. She miraculously became 3D again.

The "Just Another Birthday" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were getting ready to celebrate Carol's birthday with a meal and a birthday treat. Nothing out of the ordinary except today we are in Providenciales, Caicos, B.W.I. The BWI stands for British West Indies. It seems that each year when we travel with our friends Jerry and Just Sue we are always away from home on her birthday. It really is kind of neat that she gets to celebrate her birthday on exotic islands in the Caribbean. Today we are at Calico Jack's Bar and Grill for the occasion. We are sitting on top of the bar on a deck under the stars on a beautiful moonlit night with a few of the island residents. They soon find out that it is her birthday, since we make sure that everyone knows. The banner we pull out is a sure give away. I'm not sure what she had for supper that night, but I'm pretty sure she had a "Turk's Head" beer. That is the beer of the island and she always celebrates with the beer of the island. Time for dessert and I remind the waitress that it is her birthday. I ask her if she can put a candle on her dessert for a treat. Well, the dessert arrives and sure enough, the cake has a big blue candle right in the middle. The little girl at the next table see what is going on and moves closer so she can be part of the celebration. In no time she is between Carol and I looking at the cake. We all sing, and I mean everyone, and the little girl steps in to blow out the candle. It was another memorable birthday for Carol and another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Chumming" Story

It was an ordinary day. My son Tad and I are going deep sea fishing. We are both excited about maybe catching a big one. We boarded a fishing boat in Avalon, NJ at 8:00 AM for a half day trip in the Atlantic. This is only the second time that I have every tried to go deep sea fishing. The first time was when I was 12 years old. I was in Atlantic City with my parents and my brother Steve. Steve was 7 at the time and too young to go. I, to this day, still can't believe that my parents left me, an extremely protected and sheltered child, go deep sea fishing 100 miles from home by myself. But they did. That day I boarded a boat in the harbor and headed out to sea. I can still remember the excitement. I was given a rod and tackle and told to sit along one side of the boat. The man seated next to me realized I was by myself and new to this type of activity, so he kind of befriended me. I was fine until the boat was out of sight of land and stopped to start fishing. It wasn't long before the guy noticed that I was green in color. He told me to go to the side of the boat if I was going to be sick. Wasn't long and I was throwing up. Chum! Well, after I puked I felt much better and tried to fish. In a few minutes I was at the side of the boat again. He helped me find a spot inside the boat to lay down. Didn't work very well though. I was in the restroom in no time. Started to have the dry heaves after awhile. Felt like I was near death. If you have never experienced seasickness, you're lucky. It is terrible and you know it won't go away until you're on land. So sick you wish you were dead. After a few hours of this, the Captain told everyone to bring up the lines. We were heading back to land. Almost instantly I started to feel better. I returned to my seat and my friend. He asked how I felt and told me the fishing was crummy. The boat ride back was fun and when we docked, my friend helped me find my parents and told them of my excursion. Well, today is going to be different, I'm sure. I'm older and more mature. And, I took pills to help with motion sickness. Water is fairly calm today and we make good time heading to the first location. Captain is using radar to search for the fish All of a sudden the boat stops and someone yells to drop the lines. I'm not sure anymore what we were fishing for, but it didn't really matter. In no time at all I was in the head. Puking. And, I wasn't the only one. The cabin was full today. Then, to my surprise, as I was trying to find a spot to lay down, there was Tad. Like father, like son. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - Kid with shirt, hat, kite and bucket on the beach at Atlantic City is a younger LDub.

The "#1 Dad" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was going through my scrap books and old photos and thought it was now time to write a story about Paul H. Woods. He was many things to many people. Son, brother, husband, military man, watchmaker, singer, but most importantly, he was my Dad. Dad was born in Lancaster in 1920 and grew up in the north-east section of the city. His father worked for the post office and was injured and died because of a work related injury when Dad was seven. Dad was the youngest of four siblings. He had a sister Doris who was the oldest, Clair who was his only brother and Lillian who was born a few years before Dad. He often told stories about growing up in the 20s and the 30s. Many stories had to do with a dog named Tiny who did everything with him. At the age of 12, Dad lost an eye when someone shot him with a BB gun. Yes, it really can happen!! I only found out when I was a teenager. He never shared the story with anyone. Never used his handicap as an excuse for anything. As you can guess, I was never allowed to have a BB gun. When Dad was in Junior High his brother was killed in an automobile accident as he was traveling to a basketball game in York. Clair was the manager of the team and was traveling with other students, sitting in the rumble seat of a car that struck a telephone pole. I often thought of how my Grandmother, Grace W., survived all the tragedy in her life. While in high school he met my Mother, Dorothea (Dot). She lived in the 600 block of South Prince Street and Dad would take her home from school most days. When Dad graduated from High School he started working for Meiskey's Jewelry which was located in the first block of West Chestnut Street. In 1942 he was drafted into the US Army. Because of his vision problem he was given an assignment in the USA. Shortly thereafter, Mom and Dad were married at St. Paul's Methodist Church on South Duke Street. I was born in 1944 and Dad made it home in time for my birth. Mom and I lived on S. Prince while Dad served during WWII. After the war, Dad went back to work for Meiskey's and we moved into a rental on E. Orange St. When I was five we moved to North Queen Street. Dad eventually became manager of the Jewelry store. We took many vacations to the Jersey Shore and the Chesapeake Bay. Mom and Dad always made sure we had a summer vacation together. My brother Steve was born in 1949 and now all the bedrooms in the house were filled. Dad always made sure we had everything we needed and was more than willing to allow us to have pets. He knew the value of a young boy growing up with a dog as his best friend. I also had guinea pigs, pigeons, rats, mice, fish and worms while Steve had rabbits. Dad and I spent many hours fishing together. The family vacations at the bay gave us plenty of time for this. Dad enjoyed his Grandkids and loved to vacation and babysit them whenever he could. He also enjoyed and loved his Great Grandkids as well. One of Dad's favorite past-times was singing. He had a fantastic mellow baritone voice. I truly believe that if his family could have sent him to school for voice, he would have been a great vocal artist. His rendition of "Where you there?" on Good Friday at St. James brought tears to EVERYONE'S eyes. His singing of the Lord's Prayer at weddings brought many great comments. He was the featured soloist with the Lancaster Chapter of Barbershoppers who were one of the best choruses in the USA. He naturally was the baritone soloist with the St. James Choir. I had the honor to do a few duets with him when we were both members of the choir. Just sitting next to him in practice and services made me a better singer. He was also the featured soloist with the AARP Chorus. DAD REALLY ENJOYED SINGING! He died a few years ago and is missed tremendously by everyone who knew him. Most believe they needed another great baritone voice in the heavenly choir. Love You Dad!! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - Photos are from top: Dad and his favorite...Tiny, His sisters Doris and Lillian and my Mom, Graduation Pix, Mom and Dad's Wedding Day, Dad holding me in front of 617 S. Prince St., Working for Meiskey's Jewelry Store, Dad and me fishing at Elk River, Dad and his Grandson Tad (namesake Paul T. Woods), Red Rose Chorus Barbershoppers (Dad is 2nd from right standing)

The "Scooter Bowling" Story

It was an ordinary day. Terry D. and I are on our way to bowl. Terry and I met at the Acme Supermarket where we both worked. He was a student at JP McCaskey and I went to MT. We enjoyed working together and we both enjoyed bowling. So, we decided to join the company team when they started one. We had a great time. We bowled ever Monday night during the summer at Rocky Springs Bowling Alley which was located in the south part of Lancaster. Terry averaged about 180 and I averaged about 125. Needless to say, he enjoyed bowling more than I did. Other members of the team included the assistant manager, a woman who ran a cash register and the butcher. To get there, Terry and I traveled through the city and down South Duke Street, past the cemetery, past the park and then entered Rocky Springs. Bowling started at 7:30 PM so we usually had an hour or more to spare after work ended at 5:00 before we traveled to the bowling alley. Tonight we went to the Fulton Bar for a sandwich and a drink. About 6:30, we popped our helmets on and Terry hopped on his scooter and I hopped on my Honda 90 motorcycle. Off we went. Through the city toward Rocky Springs. The roads were slick from a shower that started when we were in eating at the Fulton, so we had to drive a little slower. But evidently, not slow enough. As we approached the cemetery we were rounding a turn on S. Duke when Terry's scooter started to skid and he applied the brakes too hard and the scooter slid on it's side onto the side of the road by the cemetery. Probably the fact that he had his bowling ball strapped to the handlebars didn't help. Now this wasn't a crash type of accident since we really were traveling slow. Luckily I was carrying my bowling ball strapped to a carrier I had on the back of my cycle and I managed to stop right behind him. Terry had a few scrapes on his hands and tore a hole in his pants, but wasn't really injured. His scooter also survived with only a few scrapes. But.........the bowling ball and bag took off into the cemetery. Muggy and dark outside. Spooky cemetery. We found it behind a tombstone, hustled out of the cemetery and hopped back on our bikes and beat it out of there. Arrived a few minutes later at the bowling alley and everyone was interested in what happened to Terry. After explaining what had happened he opened the bowling bag to get his ball out and it no longer was round. The spill had broken pieces off the ball! "Let's see you bowl your average with that ball," I said to him. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Ma Doudou" Story

It was an ordinary day. We had just finished our evening meal at Le Piment in St. Martin and were having our glass of flavored rum. We had been receiving a complimentary rum after dinner at most restaurants for many years now and found it to be fantastic. At least I did. My wife usually passes her drink to me after my glass is empty. Back then we inquired as to what kind of rum it was and where it was made. We found out it was made right there on the island. Had to buy some to take home with us. Well, we found it at Tap 5. A store right near where we were staying. Came in various sized bottles which were hand painted with beach scenes and lettered St. Martin. It was made on the French side of the island in the Cul de Sac area. Now, if we could only find the store. Two years ago we made our first trip to the MaDoudou Store. Not what we expected. It was a shack or maybe you could call it a cottage. MaDoudou was founded by Corrine Bugalaire. They perfected the process of combining natural fruit and spices with white rum which comes from the Dominican Republic. They mix each bottle and place it in the sun for "curing." Ma Doudou produces over a dozen flavors, but the six flavors that are their big sellers seem to be Banana, Coconut, Ginger, Lime, Shrubb(Orange) and Vanille. The cottage is set back off the road in a small wooded area and has parking for maybe two cars. You can't miss it because it is a bright pink color with lime green double doors and has a metal corrugated roof. Truly Caribbean looking. Behind the cottage is another small house where they do the blending and paint the bottles. We love to buy the bottles to bring back to give for souvenirs. I use them to fill with small shells, sand or colored water. Naturally, the bottles must be emptied in order to refill them. And who do you think volunteers to empty them of their flavored rum? It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - top pix is Ma Doudou "factory", middle is sampling of bottles and bottom is owner writing up our purchase of 4 bottles of rum and 1 bottle of vanilla extract.

The "Spooky Trees" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was typing a story for my blog. Sitting by my new iMac. Rainy and windy today. Very dismal. A few years ago we had a terrible snowstorm about this time of year and a few of my large 12-15 feet arborvitae trees on either side of my house became so burdened with snow that they bent over and snapped. I had quite a bit of cleanup to do and had to cut two of the down. That summer I decided I would fasten them to my house to avoid that from happening again. The trees were beautiful and were used as screening around the house. I used rubber covered clothes line which I fastened with screw eyes to the house. It really worked well EXCEPT.....when the wind blows, the trees scrap against the rubber clothes line and make this terrible eerie noise. It sounds like you are opening a very large heavy door that has hinges that need oiled. Very spooky! I only started to get the full effect of the noise a few months ago when I got digital hearing aides (another story, naturally). Wow! When our grandchildren visit they stay in one of the guest bedrooms on the end of the house that gets the full brunt of the wind and at night are scared half to death if the wind starts to blow. Can't blame them, I guess. They have to take a blanket to a different bedroom where their parents sleep. Right now, as I type, the noise is directly outside my window. Really loud. I can't cut the cords for fear they will topple. The trees are much bigger then they were when I put the rope around them. Either I trim the trees, eliminate them (that's my last option), remove the rope, devise a different plan of attack..........or TURN OFF MY HEARING AIDES! That's a no-brainer. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "You Need A Strong Stomach" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was recovering from my ordeal. Just sitting down relaxing and thinking if I did everything right. I'll start this whole story by saying that I don't like to see blood! It makes me pass out!! OK, here goes. I'm in my graphics shop teaching during 6thperiod when a student from the wood shop next door opens my door and says, "Mr. Mc needs your help right now!" I walk to the door and see Jeff, who teaches wood shop at MT High School standing next to a student who is in a chair, with a grip on his forearm and holding it in the air. There seems to be something wrong with this scene I thought. Then I saw what was wrong. The boy was missing a few of his fingers. I ran out of the room and headed toward the two of them. Then I saw the blood. Not good! I was scared. The class had just finished working and the table saw had just been turned off, but the boy who was injured had started to clean it with a dust brush too soon and ran his hand across the blade which was still extended and not totally stopped. I asked Jeff what he wanted me to do. He calmly told me he sent someone for the nurse and asked if I could find the fingers that were somewhere near the saw. Sure I could! Gulp! I instantly remembered a few things from my first aid course we were required to take in college and told another student to run to the cafeteria and get a bag of ice. Then I forgot about the blood. Not long after I found the three pieces of finger and the boy was back with the ice. I packed them in the ice and gave then to the nurse. The fingers had an eerie look and color to them, but then they weren't attached. I started to clean up what I could. Shortly after this an ambulance arrived and took the boy with the bag to the hospital. We did everything right we were told. Sad ending to the story though. His fingers were so badly damaged they couldn't be re-attached. To this day I can still see the scene when I think about it. Funny how you can remember all the details to something as bad as that. All but the blood. Luckily!! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy

The "Canal Days" Story

It was an ordinary day. We had just finished our breakfast at our hotel in Vicenza, Italy. The "We" is a group of 31 tourists who are led by Mary Lou Broucht who is a retired minister from our church. Most of the group are members of St. James Episcopal where she was a minister. We are getting ready to board a bus and travel to Venice for the day. Yep, that VENICE! Can hardly wait. After arriving at the waterfront we board a ferry for our trip to the island. I strike up a conversation with our tour guide for the day who is a resident of Venice. One thing I still remember is her concern about the rising waters and how every year the city of Venice drops lower into the sea. Some parts of the island are under water during high tide. The island grows larger as we get nearer and the anticipation of stepping foot on such a historical place is great. Upon landing we make our way from the water front to Doge's Palace where we begin our tours for the day. Doge's Palace is Venice's "White House". We exit the Palace and walk across the Bridge of Sighs to the prison. This bridge is the last view of land that most prisoners had before heading to the dark, walled prisons. We then take a tour of the Basilica Di San Marco which is thecathedral church of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Venice. It is the most famous of the city's churches and one of the best known examples of Byzantine architecture. One of my favorite stops on the island is St. Marks Square where all the local people gather. It is the only urban space called a piazza in Venice. Hundreds of pigeons are also part of the scene. Truly a fun experience and very Italian. Naturally, we had to board a gondola for a ride through the canals. I was the only male of the six people on the romantic tour. Truly romantic tour of Venice, but Carol wants to return someday and ride just with me. Now that's ROMANTIC! The gondolier gave us a history lesson as we maneuvered through the canals. And, he was thoroughly entertaining. The canals are a maximum 15 feet deep. A police boat, an ambulance boat and a variety of personal water craft (non-motorized) passed us on the trip. No swimmers and NO CARS! It was fantastic. For lunch Carol and I had a panini and gelato. How Italian can you get? Purchased a beautiful bracelet made with Murano glass beads. The island of Murano is off the coast of Venice. For years glass was made in Rome, but the Romans, fearing that the glass furnaces would cause fires and burn theirwooden bridges, ordered the glass makers 1n 1291 to move to the nearby island of Murano. We spent the afternoon walking the pathways lined with art galleries, pubs and neat houses with wash hanging from outside wash lines. We also spent time walking the streets which circumvented the island. Street vendors, magicians and entertainers as well as hundreds of tourists shared the walkways. An incredible day in one of the most beautiful cities I have every seen. I certainly could live there!! If only I could speak Italian! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - Photos are top to bottom: Basilica Di San Marco, St. Mark's Square, our gongolier, a street (waterway), and Carol and I walking the streets

The "Neighborhood Concert" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was out mowing my lawn on my Craftsman riding mower. Mower is fairly loud so sometimes I sing along to the beat of the mower noise. Sometimes I sing an oldie. Sometimes I sing Jimmy Buffett. Sometimes I sing opera. Sometimes I sing awful. I always sing loud, but I don’t think the neighbors can hear me. As I was rounding the bend out front it sounded as if there really was music in the background of my singing. I stopped and turned the mower down. I must be going crazy. You know, crazier than I really am. OK, keep on mowing Larry. After a few minutes I hear it as I head up the hill along the side of my house. This time the music is way off key to the song I’m singing. I know it's not me!! Turn the mower down. Still music......so I turn the mower off. Still there. That’s when I remembered that today is the day of the Fall Fest. The day of Country music in the park near my house. Country radio station WIOV-FM, who sponsors the free concert, moved it after 16 years from Longs Park near Park City to Overlook Park which is right next to me. I sort of like country music since Jimmy Buffett has close to the same genre of songs. I take a stroll to the top of the hill overlooking the park and see that they are setting up the sound system. Great view from where I am. The concert starts tomorrow at 2:00 PM and will run till dark. I will only get home tomorrow from a trip to the Chesapeake at 4:00 so I can hear some of the concert. Headlining the concert is Darryl Worley who had 3 number one hits, Little Big Town who is a quartet of two guys and two girls, Chris Young and Sarah Buxton. I really don’t know any of the performers, but my daughter, who loves country, knows the songs they sing. Saturday rolls around and Carol and I take our daily walk through the park early in the morning. They expect to have about 30 to 40 THOUSAND people today. Where do they all come from? Judging by the amount of port-a-potties they have, they can accommodate more than that. The place is starting to fill up already. Vendors are setting up with T-shirts, souvenirs and a vast array of food and drink. We head back home. Later in the day, after I return from my trip, I head to the top of the hill to see what's going on. It is certainly loud. I get to hear a few of the artists and the huge crowd was very well behaved. The only thing that I am disappointed about is they have closed my neighborhood to traffic. I could easily have parked 30 or more cars on my property at $10 a shot. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "House of Memories" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were getting ready to move. Move from our old homestead. 925 Janet Ave. We lived there 27 years. All our kids were born there. My parent's lived right down at the end of the block. Carol's dad lived two blocks away in an apartment unit. We moved there from an apartment unit in Manor House Apartments. That was a neat place, but not ours. 925 was a three story, semi-detached English Tudor style house with a beautiful working fireplace on a tree lined street in one of the nicest areas in Lancaster, Grandview Heights. An elementary school was a block away. Perfect! 2nd floor had 3 bedrooms and a bathroom, but we had 3 kids. I eventually made the third floor into a bedroom and added a bath for our 2 boys. Now that was a neat bedroom. Big! Size of our whole house. Built a big desk with shelving between their beds. Original hardwood floors! There was an access door into the craw space above. Climbed up there to put more insulation into the ceiling. A few times I had to use a 40 ft. ladder from the outside to get up to the roof for repairs. You could see all over Grandview Heights from up there. Scary, also! On the second floor we had a laundry chute that went to the basement. At times we would have to used yardsticks taped together to open it when someone would stuff too much in it. I also had to remodel the bathroom because of a leak in the plumbing I couldn't find. Had to take the old ceramic tile up and when I did there was buckets of cinders under them. I was told that was to help with condensation. This all took place when Carol was THREE WEEKS overdue with our first child. Did the basement over by raising the floor and inch to get it off the concrete and put carpet on the floor and paneling on the walls. Also, eventually remodeled the kitchen with the help from my friend Buzz. New cabinets, appliances, walls, ceiling, lighting and flooring. The whole works. Loved it! We did have a few problems with the house: there was a small hole in the basement wall that we shared with our neighbor that would shoot water about a foot into our basement when we had heavy rains; we constantly got bats in the house (another story to come soon); the sewer would stop up from time to time and I would have to borrow the Roto-rooter from school to open it; our pets sometimes would get out of cages and get lost in the walls of the house (one did return and go back in the cage); had a fire in the electrical box in the basement which filled the house with smoke (that's why you always keep the door on your electrical box closed); and one winter day a water main burst in the next block and flooded our street and we were unable to move our cars because the wheels were frozen into the ice which resulted. The kids all finally graduated from high school and we decided to buy a house at the Chesapeake Bay. Price was too high so we bought another house in Lancaster that looks like a house at the bay. Not many like that in good old Lancaster. Wooden sidewalks, contemporary design and water off our deck. The water is actually a pond, but that's OK. Today we're packing a U-Haul with boxes and boxes of stuff for the move. Stuff we accumulated in 27 years at 925. Way too much stuff!! "Carol, call and order another truck!" It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Operation #2" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was heading to the hospital for another operation. Seems I was either lifting something too heavy or squeezing something out to hard and developed a hernia in my lower left abdomen. Stuck out pretty good. Sometimes you could push it back in. The doctor said it needed to be corrected, because if it became entangled, it would cut off blood supply and require emergency surgery. OK, let's get it over with. In 1966 I had one corrected which was on my right side. This time it's on the left side. After arrival at the hospital, I go through admissions and head to the surgery department. I am given a shave to prep for the operation. Then I am given a magic marker! "What's this for?" I ask. "Mark the location with a circle and then draw a big arrow to the spot where the hernia is located," the doctor tells me. Wow, can't they see it? Left side. I can no longer see the scar from the first hernia and there are no records to tell the doctor exactly where it was, but he assures me that is OK, since I knew it was on the right side. They wheel me into the operating room and give me the final dose of meds to knock me out. It worked! I wake up in recovery, sick in my stomach. Why does that happen? Eventually I go back to my room and is greeted by my wife, Carol. Well, the next day I'm struggling to walk or even sit up. They decide I will be better at home. Carol disagrees with them, but takes me home anyway. The next day she REALLY disagrees with them when I'm sick and yelling in pain! "It can't hurt that much," she advises me. "If you ever have another operation, I'm going to make sure that you stay in at least a week. Maybe two weeks!" Well she heads to the store for more pain medication. Lots more. After a few days I start to feel better and talk to the doctor on the phone. He asks about my recovery and then tells me that the first operation was also on the left side. What? Can't be. But it was. He hit quite a bit of scar tissue and in cutting through the scar tissue he happened to cut some nerves which were in the way. He said the result will probably be no feeling in the lower left abdomen. NO FEELING!! Down there! I told Carol what he said and asked her to feel around the area to see if I had any feeling nearby. "Yeah, right!! Feel it yourself!" was the response. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Road To Hana" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were on our way to world famous Hana. Jerry, Just Sue, Carol and I had decided we wanted to take "The Incredible Journey-The Road to Hana" in our rental car. Hana is on the island of Maui in the Pacific. We knew it was a challenging trip so we left at 6:30 AM. We had a list of rules with us that stated: Don't trespass, leave early, research your trip before you go, bring a towel, check the weather, pay attention to yield signs, do not litter, treat everyone with respect, drive safely and slowly (may be hard for me), get back before dark, and don't swim at the top of a waterfall. Duh!! Told we should have a full tank of gas because there are no gas stations along the way. There have been many fatalities over the years because of the winding roads and cliffs. We were in a Chevy Trailblazer with 4 wheel drive so we knew we shouldn't get stuck anywhere. Jerry and I shared the driving for the day. We started our trek at the town of Kailua which is the true beginning of the road to Hana. To reach Hana, if we drive straight through without stopping, will take about two and a half hours. There are approximately 600 curves and 54 bridges. We decided the girls would count the bridges and the guys would watch the curves. Logical, isn't it? We were told to make sure we had bug spray with us because Hana is packed with mosquitoes as well as tourists. I imagine if I were a mosquito, a tourist trap would be my place of destination also. Our first stop was at the Puahokamoa Falls which were beautiful, but not as full as they are at times because of a dry spell in Maui. Most of the falls we stopped to visit had minimal amounts of water flowing over them. We made a stop at Waianapanapa Beach which is located in a State Park. The beach is set among lava cliffs and the sand is small, smooth, lava pebbles. Small sea arches and lava tubes lead to the beach. The beach is black! Beautiful!! We really enjoyed this stop. Finally reached Hana were we had lunch at a small restaurant on the beach. We finished lunch, hit the rest rooms and hopped in the car for more entertainment. Our next stop was the Ohe'o Gulch which ended with the Waimoku Falls and the Seven Sacred Pools. The freshwater pools are one of the most striking natural wonders in all of Maui and are considered sacred in Hawaii because freshwater is the connection to life. The pools vary in elevation and are connected by rushing waterfalls. Today, the pools are very low and the water isn't rushing because of the lack of rain. Jerry ventures towards the pools to take a dip while Just Sue, Carol and I walk toward the entrance to the ocean. At this point we had to decide if we wanted to continue on in the direction we were going or head back. The roads in the same direction were mostly unpaved and dirt and our auto insurance would not cover us if something happened, so we opted to head back the way we came and make a few more stops. On one extremely high and winding section we witnessed a minivan which had gone over the edge of the cliff. Pretty scary! We made our way back to our resort by 5:30 PM; tired, hot and sweaty, but with a lot of great photos and memories. The Road to Hana is referred to as "The Land That Time Forgot" and by traveling on it you will be drawn a little closer to heaven. In more ways than one!! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - Top right is Carol in the lava tube leading to the black sand beach, next is the Seven Sacred Pools and bottom right is Carol and I at the end of the pools and waterfalls where they enter the Pacific.

The "Larry" Story

It was another ordinary day. We had just had breakfast at Calico Jack's for the third day in a row. Great food and fantastic waitresses. Calico Jack's is located in Providenciales on the island of Caicos. Perfect vacation spot. The "we" is Jerry, Just Sue, Carol and I. We have decided that we need a car. Too many things to see and do on the island so we really need a car. We get to talking to one of the waitresses and ask her who would be the best person to rent from. It's always nice to rent from locals when you have the chance. She tells us that she will call her boyfriend who is in construction and ask him. A short time later she tells us her boyfriend will be here in a minute and take us to a place to rent a car. OK! Well, I guess we just have to trust her. Sure enough, he arrives and Jerry and I hop in and he takes off for the rental agency. Five minutes later he pulls into a small, local place and takes us to the office. He tells the manager to give us his contractor's price and takes off. OK! The manager gives us a really great price and shows us to our car. All cars have names at his rental place and this car is named "Claude". Car is white, steering wheel on the left and name painted on the hood of the car. OK! He goes over the car with us and circles on the contract all the marks and dents. Takes several minutes, since this is a really used car. Good service to go with the great price. We're ready to go. We start to exit the rental place when all of a sudden I slam on the brakes and put the car in reverse. Jerry looks at me like I'm crazy. He is always saying I drive like a maniac. "What are you doing?" he asks me. "Let's change cars," I tell him. "Why? What's the matter with this one?" he responds. I point to a shiny blue one and say, "cause that one has "Larry" painted on the hood. It's not everywhere you can get a car named after you." It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Roiling Down The River" Story

It was an ordinary day. Saturday. We have just finished breakfast at the Bayside Restaurant at Sandals Grande Ocho Rios in Jamaica. In about an hour we will head west towards MontegoBay on a small bus to the Martha Brae River. We're going on a rafting trip down the Martha Brae. Jerry, Just Sue, Carol and I empty the bus near Trelawny and head to the Rafter's Rest where we will board the rafts. Along the way we are offered a rum punch to help get us in the liming mood for our trip. Works! Our raft "Captain" is Donovan. He has built his own 30 foot raft from bamboo which is grown in the forests of Jamiaca. The poles are extremely straight and about 4" in diameter. They are sewn together with twine made from the trees. The raft will last about six to seven months before the bamboo will start to split. We are led to the banks of the river and board the raft. Life vests are behind us as we sit in the only seat on the raft. Extremely comfortable padded seat. As we start our 90 minute trip we see children fishing along the shores and cows feeding in the fields. No buildings in sight. A big variety of native trees and flowers line the banks of the river. The water reaches eight feet in depth at some points, but mostly in the 3-5 foot range. You can imagine the size of the pole Donovan uses to steer the raft. We travel around curves and some small rapids. Jerry and Sue are about 100 yards ahead of us and we can see no one behind us. Donovan tells us about his family and the history of the river. Seems a local river witch was tortured by invading Spanish until she agreed to take them to an island gold mine. She led them to a cave along the river bank and once inside summoned the river to rise, drowning all her tormentors. Much more interesting with him telling it. We did see some vendors along the banks calling to us to buy their wares. The only one which interested us was the guy selling Red Stripe beer, the island beer, but we decided to pass. As we drifted along, Donovan carved a coconut shell with a small pocket knife. I guess I should have been smart enough to see what was coming. Yep, at the end of the trip we were given the opportunity to buy his creation, which I must admit was really neat. Think we bought it? Of Course we did! Asouvenir from the witch's river! Kinda scary, huh? It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Impala" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was out riding around in my 1958 Chevy. Not any Chevy, but an Impala convertible. I've had many cars in my life and this one is close to the top of the list for being the neatest! It was a three speed with a 348 cubic inch engine. Generated 315 horsepower. The 1958 Chevy Impala was considered the first muscle car made. I just loved the car. I was 20 years old at the time and had plans for the customization of the car. At the time I was taking a design class at Millersville University and used the car as my project for the course. I found a 1951 DeSoto bullet grill at Angelini and Groff junk yard and figured a way to use it to replace the stock grill. I removed the tail light lenses and found some red Plexiglas in the school's shop area and made new lenses. Flat instead of the bullet style. I removed all the hood, trunk and side chrome and filled all the holes and sanded them. My Uncle Bud owned Stiffel's Body Shop and repainted the car for me. He talked me into keeping it the same color so it would be less expensive to paint. In metal shop I designed a shifter post that was extremely short; made it look like I was reaching down on the floor to shift the car. Why? I don't really know, but I thought it was cool. Put spun aluminium moon hubcaps on and colored lights in the front wheel wells. I took the car to Landis Garage and they removed the four barrel carburetor and made changes so it now had 2 four barrel carburetors. The car could just about fly. Added a tachometer and other gauges which I used more for show than anything else. I also removed the Continental Kit from the rear. It just didn't fit with the design I had decided upon. Final touch was to have a full tonneau cover which covered from the trunk to the dash. Had a zipper down the middle so I could unzip the driver's compartment and leave the rest of the car covered. Also added the necessary dice from the mirror. Nice touch. Pretty neat car! No, REALLY neat car!! It really drew the stares. I still can't believe I sold it to buy a Pontiac Tempest!!! What was I thinking? Today the '58 Chevy Convertibles are bringing over $100,000 at auction. The Tempest? They are at rest in the junk yard! Oh well, at least I was cool for a few years while I had it. Did get an "A" in my course! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - The photo is what car looked like before I started the customization. I'm sorry I don't have the "After" photo.

The "Roman Holiday" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were leaving Assisi, Italy and heading to Rome. The "We" is retired Rev. Mary Lou Broucht and her group of 32 tourists in a bus, mostly from our church. She made all the arrangements, since she had been to Italy many times. As a matter of fact, she had two of our kids on a tour when they were in high school. Arrived at 4:00 PM and checked into Hotel Pace Elvezia. Really an elegant old place. Of course, what place in Rome wouldn't be old! We had a quick supper at a corner cafe and headed back to the hotel to hop in bed. Had an early breakfast at the hotel then off to visit Rome. Melissa, Roselyn, Neil and wife Barbara and Carol and I headed toward the Coliseum. The streets are mostly stone as we travel. After several blocks, we make a final turn and there it is! I have read about the ancient world, but until you see something like the Coliseum in person, you can't believe your eyes. I was awestruck!! Brought tears to my eyes. Magnificent!! As I walked toward theColiseum I felt like I was going back in time. We toured the structure and the Palatino which is next to the Coliseum. I felt like I should be wearing armor and carrying a sword. Street vendors had them for sale. At noon we headed toward the Pantheon. Melissa's husband John couldn't make the trip so we promised to wave to him on the webcam which is on the roof of the Albergo del Senato Hotel located across from the Pantheon. I made a big sign to hold up and we wore bright clothing. Melissa got him on the phone and he saw us. TECHNOLOGY in ancient Rome! At 2:00 PM we traveled with our group by bus to St. Paul's outside the Walls Church and then to the Di San Callisto Catacombs. Again, sights I had read about and seen photos of in history books. After we returned we walked a few blocks to visit the Trevi Fountain before dark. Two days before a person threw packets of red dye in the fountain and all the water turned red. By the time we had arrived, it had all been filtered out. It certainly put Rome in the spotlight for a few days. Supper of pasta and gelato and another trip to the Coliseum to see it at night. So glad digital cameras had been invented. I took a gadzillion photos today. The following day we continued with our sightseeing visiting the "Spanish Steps" which are the longest and widest staircase in Europe. It was built to connect the Bourbon Spanish Embassy to the Holy See. We also toured the markets and walked to the Circo Massimo which is where they raced the chariots. Our last evening meal in Rome was fantastic, but after our meal we all boarded the wrong tour bus and were taken to the wrong hotel. Boy, was that driver po'ed. After finally returning to the hotel we walked one more time to the Trevi Fountain to see it and photograph it at night. Just a beautiful sight. Extremely romantic!! We will return, since we threw the mandatory three coins in the fountain (over our shoulder). The next day was a really bad day in the history of Rome. We headed home!!! It was an EXTRAORDINARY day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - photos from top to bottom: Coliseum is the distance; Coliseum and entrance to the Palatino; part of the Palatino; holding up sign for Melissa's husband at the Pantheon; throwing our "3 coins in the fountain"; The Trevi Fountain; The Spanish Steps

The "Statesman Arnold" Story

It was an ordinary day. We had just made a family purchase. At the SPCA. The cutest little guy. He was part dachshund and part beagle. As soon as our daughter saw him she said, “He looks just like Arnold on Different Strokes.” OK, his name was Arnold. He was being lifted from the trunk of a car in the parking lot. We followed the person taking him into the SPCA where we told them we wanted him. Quick turnaround time! It wasn’t quite that easy. He had to be examined, given his shots and bathed before we could take him home. We were told to come back the next day to pick him up. No one, including myself, could wait to bring him home. He was adorable, and he grew to be our most favorite friend. He wasn’t always that much of a favorite. For a while he was a chewer. Chewed a hole in the basement paneling, chewed a portion of the basement carpet and chewed the corner off of our love seat. He was smart though. When he heard it was called a love seat, he started humping the arm of it. That he never stopped until we got rid of the loveseat. He also had a hard time controling himself. When anyone would come to visit he would get so excited he would bark, greet them, roll over and hit them with a stream of pee. That he did throughout his life! He went everywhere with us. Really enjoy the Chesapeake Bay. Loved swimming and enjoyed riding the intertube with you. His all-time favorite doggie friend was Casey. Casey, a mixed breed, was my friend Wayne’s dog. They would walk up and down the back alley to visit and see who had the best bones laying in the yard. His favorite all-time Christmas present was an “Ultimate Warrior” sleeping bag. He slept in that sleeping bag on the floor every night next to Carol. I he got up to stretch, he would whine until Carol reached down and helped him get back in the bag. He was very good at whining, but we kind of made him that way. We fed him off the table when he was a puppy and he would beg and whine whenever we would have a meal. After the meal he would hop on the door of the dishwasher and give the dishes a pre-cleaning. He was also our maildog. When the mail was delivered he expected a treat from Gary, our mailman. If he didn’t get one or Gary wasn’t on the route that day, he would tear into our mail. When we went on some trips, Arn would have to stay with my parents. Grandma and Grandpa lived right down the street, so all we had to do was cross him and he knew exactly where to go. Always got the right house. One time he was staying with Mom and Dad and they left him out to do his business and when they went to let him back in, he was gone. Boy, were they worried. Then it hit them. Up the street they went and there was Arn sitting on our front door step. He was homesick. He moved to Harrington Drive in the late 90s with us and found all new surroundings. Strange, but he always stayed right by my side when I was outside. By now he was in his later years and having some problems hearing and seeing. The only time he strayed was one day we heard a terrible screeching noise along the street. Out we went and there was Arn in the middle of the street looking over some roadkill. A car was about a foot from him, but he was oblivious to his surroundings. Last time he was outside by himself! ADub lived to be 15 years old and was my true friend. He loved watching me pull weeds and rake leaves. He was always forgiving and never held a grudge. I only hope I am like him! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - Top pix is with our kids, next is at the Chesapeake, next he greets his friend Casey and bottom is Statesman Arnold

The "Celebration" Story

It was an ordinary day. We were getting ready for a birthday party. Not just any, but a party to celebrate 87 years of life for my Mom. She was born in 1922 and has been celebrating birthdays ever since. I can remember a few of the big birthdays in my life, but not many. I really don't remember my 16th or my 21st. How about you? Long term memory is fading! I do remember my 50th that was held on my parents back porch on Janet Avenue. My wife did a great job of keeping it a secret. But, she did an even better job of keeping my 60th a secret. A day before my birthday, we were sitting, watching TV and she took a phone call. She hung up and told me that our son Tad was having problems with his plumbing and wanted to know if I could run up now and help him with it. Duh! I had no clue. Even when we got there and there were cars up and down his street. I walked through the door and bammmmm. SURPRISE! Really neat party with all my friends and relatives. Back to Mom, now. She knew we were celebrating with a party on our back deck. All the family was there and a few of her friends. She didn't know that we were about to set the deck on fire. She sat at our Tiki Bar and we arrived with the cake....and 87 candles. Her three great-great grandkids gathered on stools next to her as we sang Happy Birthday and then helped her blow them out. She was in heaven for some time that day. My Dad celebrated his 87 much the same way, only inside since his Birthday is in February. Now that flame set off the smoke detector and scarred the crap out of everyone. Dad is no longer with us, but Mom is getting ready to celebrate with another big cake and huge flame. We'll have the extinguisher ready. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Frampton Factor" Story

It was an ordinary day. I was getting ready for Peter Frampton to arrive at the High School. Yes, the real Peter Frampton. The musician. I have been in charge of the “Neff-Vue”, which is the HS yearbook, for eight years now. Jim G., an art teacher with a room next to mine, helps me with the book. This year the staff has chosen “Concerts” as a theme for the book. Quite a few of the students have been to concerts and have taken some great photos of their favorite bands. Our yearbook photographer, Ken L., also has quite a current variety of great photos of bands in concert. We have laid out the theme section of the book which will be the first 16 pages. They will all be in color and will be primarily concert photos. A few of the photos will be bands that are currently members of the high school student body. Should be great and sales this year should be fantastic. The cover is a collage of photos that will appear in the first 16 pages. That too will be interesting. My staff came up with the idea that they will create a Ticket Master replica that will appear on the cover with the name of the publication and the year. The price of the book will also be included as part of the ticket. Could be a prize winning yearbook! Just as we were about to submit the cover idea, the assistant principal, Paul L., came to me and asked if I have ever heard of Peter Frampton. “Yeah, he is one of the biggest names in pop music. He was Rolling Stone Artist of the Year in ’76,” I tell him. “Well, he is going to be practicing for his upcoming show in New York in our auditorium,” he replies. Seems that Peter Frampton and his band use Clair Brothers Audio from Lititz as their sound technicians. Clair brothers is in the process of building a new studio and it will not be ready by next week when Peter arrives, so Paul, who is a neighbor of Roy Clair, offered our auditorium to them. WOW!! Roy is also a friend of mine who went through Millersville State College with me. We partnered in our wood shop class and both built stereo cabinets with all the components for our project in our Junior year. Roy went into business with his brother and I began teaching after graduation. I gave Roy a call to confirm that Peter’s arrival was true and if we could shoot a photo for our yearbook cover. Roy would take care of everything for me he said. I quickly called our photographer Ken and told him we would need him the next night to do the shot in our auditorium. The next morning two tractor trailers appeared very early in our parking lot. They were here! The school shut off the auditorium to students and Clair Brothers began to set up the sound system. Late that afternoon I took my yearbook staff to the auditorium to meet Peter and see what time they would practice. All arrangements were made. My staff got to stand in the front row for the shot and Ken snapped away. After a half hour of shooting, Ken left to return to his studio. We had to have the photo back by the next night, since that would be the final practice session before Peter and his band left for NY. Peter autographed our cover and signed a release form so we could publish it on our yearbook. And to top that off, he bought and paid for copies for himself and all his band members of our 1977 “Neff Vue.” It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - Cover of the yearbook as well as Peter Frampton as he appears in concert in ’09. In memory of Ken L. and Paul L.