The "Money Bags Benson" Story

It was an ordinary day. Reading the "25 Years Ago Today" column in the Lancaster Newspaper and immediately recognized the lead story they had. About a friend of mine from church who we called Money Bags Benson. She was in my Sunday School class at St. James Church with about a dozen other friends. My friend Barry, who I wrote about a few times and who died almost a year ago, and I thought she was really pretty. Carol Benson lived in a huge house that had a gadzillion rooms. Her parents were members at church as were my parents. But, I was no way rich enough to be really good friends with her. Neither was Barry who lived in the city and went to McCaskey High School. Money Bags went to Lancaster Country Day School, a private school in Manheim Township. Well, the story that appeared in the paper 25 years ago was about Carol's younger brother Steven who had killed his mother and her mother's adopted son and almost killed Carol when he planted 2 pipe bombs in his Chevy Suburban and as his family entered the car he triggered the bombs from the house. This all happened in Naples, Florida where the family moved years after we all graduated from high school. The story goes like this. Carol's grandfather, Harry Hitchcock, was a wealthy business man in Lancaster. Owned Lancaster Leaf Tobacco Company and imported tobacco when smoking was at it's height. Very wealthy! His daughter, Carol's mom, married her dad who worked at the company. The dad traveled quite a bit and I never got to know him. I suspect that Carol and her brother Steven, who came along 8 years later, never knew him that well either. Her father died young and left over 10 million to Carol's mom. Both Carol and Steven always had everything they ever wanted. At age 10, Steven was given a power boat and when he turned 16 was given an MG which he drove every day to high school. And Carol had the best clothes you ever saw. That's why we called her Money Bags. Well, it seems that Carol did more than dress nice. She had an illegitamate child when she was 21. Barry and I had heard about her extracurricular activities, even in high school, but we were never part of that. Honest! I think she went to college in Florida after high school and it was at this time that she entered the Miss Florida contest and came in as 1st runner-up. Her family kept Carol's child a secret (easier since she was living in Florida at the time) and her mom eventually adopted him as her son. He was the second person killed in the car bombing, along with Carol's mom. Lost yet? It continues ....... Steven in the meantime had gotten married, divorced, and re-married. Carol married a guy whose last name was Kendall. Don't remember his first name. What a family! In 1980, shortly after her father (who she barely knew) died, Carol's mom sold her house in Lancaster and moved to Naples, Florida with her adopted son and bought a house. Shortly after, Steven and his wife defaulted on a home in Columbia, since his mother stopped paying the mortgage, and moved to Fort Myers. Shortly after that Carol moved, also! Don't remember if she was still married at the time or not. They all were following the money! Carol's mom stated to realize that her real son, Steven, was drainingher of all her money and stopped giving him any and made arrangements to cut him out of her will. And ...... Steven found out. So, wanting to be the sole heir of all the money, he planned to kill the whole batch of them; mom, sister, and adopted brother. The car blast killed the mom and adopted brother, but Carol was blown away from the car and received severe burns, mostly to her face. Almost worked, but shortly after the blast, the police found a receipt for the pipe, end caps and explosives in the house with Steven's palm print on it. A year later he was convicted of the double homicide, attempted murder, arson, and a slew of other charges. Steven recently turned 60 and will be eligible for parole when he reaches 85. As for Carol, she ran unsuccessfully in 1996 and again in 2000 for a Naples City Council seat while living in Port Royal. Last I heard, she was living in Norfolk, Va. Does money bring happiness? Evidently not for Money Bags Benson and her family. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - photos from the top are Steven after his arrest in Naples, Steven at trial in Florida taken by Lancaster Newspaper photographer Dan Marschka, Steven in 2008 while in prison and his 2011 prison photo. Couldn't find a photo of Carol to share with you.

The "Barbados Hospitality" Story

It was an ordinary day. Just getting back from a fantastic day exploring the island of Barbados. Got up early this morning, our last day for our car rental, and checked with Jerry and Just Sue, our traveling companions, to see what time they wanted to leave for our trip around the island. Jerry's feet and ankles showed some signs of swelling the day before, and he is having some trouble with them again today, so they opt not to go with Carol and me. After breakfast, we pack the bathing suits and towels in the car and Carol and I head out the entrance from the Divi Resort. This is an English island, so the driving is on the left side of the road. Took an hour or so to get used to it when I first tried it in St. Croix a few years ago, but can now navigate the roads as a seasoned tourist. The only problem in Barbados is the lack of road signs. NONE! You try to get directions from someone and then use land marks to find your way to your destination. "Drive a mile to the blue house, head right until you reach the gas station, head left until you get to the big tree with a dead branch overhanging the road, and ask someone else." This is the way you reach your destination. We had a detailed island map and found our first destination on it, Bottom Bay Beach, and headed to the right when we pulled out of the Divi driveway. Bottom BayBeach was on my "Must-See" list, ever since I saw photos of it in Caribbean Travel and Life and thought it was so beautiful. Wasn't long before we stopped for directions. And then again. And again. We thought we may be close to the beach, but everything looked the same as everything else we had passed in the last half hour. I stopped at an intersection and just waited. Figured we would flag down the next person and try again to get directions. Well, here he comes towards us. I stuck my hand out the window and started waving. He was an older man who definitely was a Barbadian and pulled even with me and stopped. "Can you help us? We're lost!" I asked him. He asked, in an unusual English accent, where we were going and after telling him Bottom Bay Beach, he said we are headed in the wrong direction. Kinda figured that. He told us to turn around at the next house and follow him and he would lead us to Bottom Bay Beach. Wow! Had the car turned around in no time and started following him. He was on island time so it took another 15 minutes before he signaled us to pull along the side of his car. He pointed to a herd of goats that were about a block away and told us to try to get around them and then make the first left and travel to the end of the road. Park the car and follow the path to the edge of the cliff. The beach will be below the cliff. That's easy, I thought. I got out of the car and tried to give him something for his trouble, but he refused, telling me that he had nothing to do today and was glad for the chance to drive to Bottom Bay. Wasn't long before we chased the goats off the road and found ourselves looking down onto one of the most beautiful white sand beaches we had ever seen. Spend a few minutes taking photos which compared to the one in the magazine, then found a set of steep steps that we navigated to reach the beach below. Wasn't disappointed by the soft white sand and the beautiful blue water. Bottom Bay Beach is on the Eastern side of Barbados and on the Atlantic Ocean. The water was very rough and we didn't attempt to enter it. After spending time walking the beach and taking more photos, we relaxed for an hour on our towels before we headed back to the car and the next stop on our journey. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - photos from the top are: goats blocking our way to the beach, palms above Bottom Bay Beach, photo as I remember it from the Caribbean Travel and Life Magazine, view of the beach from the top of the cliff, Carol heading down to the beach, beautiful white sands of Bottom Bay, LDub standing along the rough surf of the beach.

The "How Rude" Story

It was an ordinary day. Scorching hot with highs reaching into the 100 degree range. So Carol and I decided to take in a concert in York, PA at the Springettsbury Park which is along Rt. 30W. Make any sense? You'll see why soon. The concert featured Key West which is a band that has a large supply of Jimmy Buffett songs as well as Raggae, Creole, and Latin songs.They have opened for many national acts including The Tarns, The Drifters, The Coasters, The Kingsmen, Jan and Dean, The Box Tops and Cravin’ Melon. Now a few of those groups I have never heard of, but they have to be good if they are a JB Tribute Band. The members of Key West are sailors and divers who have lived and worked in Florida and the Caribbean. The bands' 1995 CD, "Postcards From Paradise" continues to sell well due to the timelessness of its music and has gone international with distribution in the Caribbean. The typical Key West audience is a multi-generational, energetic, loyal group of followers, much like the Parrotheads who follow Jimmy Buffett. Springettsbury Park holds concerts every Wednesday and Sunday throughout the summer. All concerts are free and are well attended. Corporations and businesses sponsor the different groups which appear. Other shows have included the Navy Band, 1910 Fruitgum Company ("Simple Simon Says" fame), Flamin' Dick & The Hot Rods, and Beatlemania Now. Carol and I hadn't been to a concert this year, but knew that they got crowded, so we headed over to York shortly after 5:00 PM to put chairs in a good spot at the outdoor amphitheatre. The temperature gauge in our car read 93 degrees, and the sun was out. Not sure if it was a good idea! After dropping off our chairs we headed to a local eatery for supper. Figured we could find a parking space somewhere and wouldn't have to sit in the heat for an hour before the show started. We were surprised at 6:45 when we arrived back that the place had many empty spots. Maybe it was the heat or maybe the group which was appearing. Not sure how many Jimmy Buffett fans may be in the area. I had my pink "Parrothead" shirt on and noticed a few Margaritaville shirts, but not what I expected. And, 75% of the people were OLDER than Carol and me. How can that be? Off in the distance is a softball game going on while a few dozen people are playing volleyball on the white sand court. Others play tennis while we can hear a few slapshots from the outdoor street hockey rink. Neat place! Showtime!! The temperature has dropped slightly with the clouds covering the sun. Looks like a great evening of some of our favorite music. But, it doesn't seem to be the favorite of quite a few of the visitors. They would rather talk instead of listening. How RUDE! Two-thirds of the way through the hour and 1/2 long concert, people started leaving. Don't know if it is bedtime for them or if they can't drive after dark. But, again, to me this is RUDE. And, I kind of let it known to those around me. The guy and his wife sitting next to me who looked antsy, stayed put. I believe that if you come to listen to the music and enjoy a free concert, you owe it to the performing group to be attentive and stay until their performance has ended. I guess I'm old fashioned!! Strange, but those leaving early and making the most noise were older than me. Shame on them!! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - click on the link below to hear a few songs by Key West

Key West Band - Buffett tunes and Caribbean-style rock 'n' roll - BOOK THE BAND

The "Surfin' In A Hurricane!" Story

It was an ordinary day. Checked my webcam and found it was sunny both here and in St. Martin (SXM). A week or so ago I made reservations for Carol and I to travel to SXM over my birthday in September. Never gave it a thought that it is the hurricane season in the tropics and that is the reason that the house and car rental are both dirt cheap. Then I started reading about the possibility of Hurricane Emily developing and heading across SXM. Wow, what would happen if we were in SXM and a hurricane hit? Certainly would ruin our vacation. So, I got online and started reading all I could about the hurricane season in SXM. Members on TravelTalkOnline started telling about the great vacations that they had during the month of September. The island is pretty quiet compared to quite a few other months. One poster, jiminboston, said that the odds are you will have wonderful weather. The likelihood of bad weather is not high. At least one person has a positive attitude. One person who lives on the island wrote that last year a category 1, or mildest hurricane, hit SXM and power was out for several days. There were debris flying through the air and covering roads after the storm. Some streets were flooded and not passable. Best if you are high off the beach in a concrete structure. Well, we have a second story concrete studio, high off the beach with hurricane shutters. And, the place has survived many hurricanes in the past. Should be OK. Another person suggested travel insurance while another said they had made a few trips in September and always had fantastic weather. Another writer said that you are dealing with the laws of probability ... chances are you won't be caught in one, but on the other hand ........ Then transplantsxm gave some stastistics about the possibility of a hurricane during hurricane season. There have been 49 hurricanes in the last 139 years. The longest gap between storms was 12 years (1966-1979). SXM is brushed or hit by a hurricane every 6.32 years. Average MPH of hurricane hits is 105 MPH. Statistically when SXM should be affected next: before the end of the 2013 season. And then the last stat really scared me. The peak time for a hurricane during the hurricane season is September 7th to the 13th. Yikes, right over my birthday when we will be there. So, I said to Carol, "What do you think?" She replied, "Certainly would be exciting! And, what a story it would make!!" OK, our plans stand as made! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Oh My God! There's Teeth In Here!!" Story

It was an ordinary day. Carol and I just saw on TV that gold was selling for over $1,700 an ounce. That's correct, AN OUNCE! She said we should look through our jewelry and see if we have anything gold that we don't want anymore so we can sell it. The only thinggold I have is my wedding ring, and I suspect she wouldn't be in favor of me selling it. Then, she looked at me and said we should find my mother's old jewelry box and check and see if she had anything of any value. Mom could certainly use some extra monetary help with her monthly payments at the retirement home where she is a resident. Found the big, white box in the basement amongst the suitcases of clothes and boxes of memorabilia. Sat it in front of Carol and told here to look through it to see what might have some value. Was sitting next to her when she held up a gold ring that had a US Army emblem on it. Dad's Army ring that had mom and dad's wedding date engraved in the inside of the band. Can't sell that we agreed. Gonna give it to our youngest son, Paul T. (Tad), who will cherish it and who shares my dad's name. I have documented in past blog stories about our son having his entire left inside forearm tattooed with his grandfather's image in his Army uniform and with his birth and death dates. Also found a gold wrist bracelet with dad's name and his Army serial number on it. That will go to Tad, also. Found a pin that was my grandfather's 35 year service pin when he worked for Armstrong Industries. Nah, can't get rid of that. Found a Red Cross Volunteer pin from mom, but figured they couldn't afford to give anything that was pure gold as a gift. Then she pulled out a peanut pin with a black top hat on it and a red ribbon around the middle. Oh yeah, I remember making that in elementary school back in the 50s. Wow, only a mother could ever where something like that. Then she pulled a very small envelope out and opened it. Looked in it and screamed, "Oh my God! There's teeth in here! How Gross!! Turned it over and it read "Larry and Steve's baby teeth." Handed it to me as if it were poison. I opened it and looked inside. Yep, plenty of teeth. Belonged to me and my brother. Often wonderedwhat the tooth fairy did with my baby teeth when I put them under the pillow. Now I know. Then she pulls out another matching envelope, looks inside, and holds it out to me. "A molar," she said. "And it didn't come from a child." Must have been one of dad's or mom's teeth. I don't think I will question mom about it, though. After venturing into the drawers of the jewelry case, we found maybe one or two items that might have some value, but not worth the bother to spend time taking it to a jeweler. I guess the big find of the day was the teeth! How Gross!! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Watching for Pirates" Story

It was an ordinary day. As we drove from the airport in St. Martin (SXM) to our rental in Orient Village, we saw a large hill along the shoreline near the city of Marigot, the French capital of SXM. Looked like the ruins of an old fort with a weathered flag flying above it. As we entered the city we got a better view of the fort which was overlooking the bay in front of the capital. A large sign pointed to the structure and declared it to be "Fort Louis". A few days

later we came back to the city and decided to climb the stone staircase that was built into the hill which led to the fort. The path jogs slightly and the steps are in need of repair, but they ultimately lead to the top. The ruins had plenty of signs explaining its historical significance. The island of St. Martin changed hands a number of times during the 17th and 18th centuries until the 1648 Treaty of Concordia split the isle between France and the Netherlands. A French village rose along the bay on the north-west side of the island. It's name, Marigot, was based on the French word referring to marshes. Marigot became a shipping point for all the products raised and grown on the French side of the island. Chevalier Desoudrelles, who commanded the island at the time, thought it needed protection from the nearby English island of Anguilla, so a fort was constructed in 1767 above the town of Marigot and took the name of the King of France, Louis XVI. Anyone attempting to enter the bay would be seen by the citadel on the hill. The fort eventually lost it's purpose as the European nations became friends and it deteriorated. In the late 20th century it was restored and opened to visitors. Carol and I made our way to the top and were rewarded with the amazing 180 degree view. We could see to Simpson Bay on the south side of the island as well as the airport tower near the bay. To the north-west we could see Anguilla as well as Marigot harbor below us. It was very windy and not much of the fort remains to break the wind. A few cannons line the wall that remains, looking out over the harbor. Can imagine what it must have been like to man the cannons on this beautiful site. What a job! After a few photos we head back down, turning to look back as we reach the bottom. Neat place to visit. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - photos from the top are: Fort Louis overlooking the city of Marigot with the French flag flying, sign with historical info about the fort, view looking into Marigot, photo of Carol and LDub trying not to be blown off the hill, cannon getting ready for unwelcome visitors and panoramic view of Marigot and surrounding area.

The "Having An MRI" Story

It was an ordinary day. Just got back from the Neuroscience and Spine doctor, Dr. Gastaldo. Dr. Gastaldo operated on me in the early 2000s for what was thought to be bone fragments flowing in my back. Turned out to be arthritis. He opened the area around the nerves that enter my legs so I would no longer have pain in my back and legs. He did a great job! But, he told me he had no idea how long before the disease, arthritis, would do the same thing to me again. It's back! Two days before I saw Dr. Gastaldo, I had an MRI done. An MRI is Magnetic Resonance Imaging. MRI is a medical imaging technique used in radiology to visualize detailed internal structures. MRI makes use of the property of nuclear magnetic resonance(NMR) to image nuclei of atoms inside the body. An MRI machine uses a powerfulmagnetic field to align the magnetization of some atoms in the body, and radio frequencyfields to systematically alter the alignment of this magnetization. This causes the nuclei to produce a rotating magnetic field detectable by the scanner—and this information is recorded to construct an image of the scanned area of the body. MRI provides good contrastbetween the different soft tissues of the body, which make it especially useful in imaging thebrain, muscles, the heart, and cancers compared with other medical imaging techniques. If you haven't figured it out yet, I copied that info from a web site. To have an MRI done, you need to lay on a table, with a gown on so you have nothing metal to ruin the image. The table enters a donut shaped unit that contains the magnetic system. The test itself is painless, but slightly noisy as the magnets clank and bang around you. They do place head phones on you to help with the noise. I had a few images done which took 10 minutes each and then they stopped the machine and injected a dye into my bloodstream. Part-way through the injection, the saline solution came shooting across my bright yellow shirt. At first I thought it was blood, but the nurse told me that it wasn't, and wouldn't stain my St. Thomas shirt I had worn. I entered the donut for a second round of images. In no time I had fallen asleep! Yep, I can fall asleep almost anywhere! Just ask my wife. The nurse woke me when she moved my out of the donut so I could get dressed. Can't imagine how much it must cost to have an MRI done. So glad for insurance. Well, Dr. Gastaldo hooked into my MRI results via his computer and sat and explained them to me. Seems that the thin things (nerves) which he described as pieces of spaghetti, that go through my spinal cord, are being pinched at a few spots by my disease. He told me that the first procedure would be physical therapy for two weeks to see if that will relieve the pain. I told him it didn't the last time, but he said we will try again. He likes to use the least invasive methods first before he tries anything even mildly invasive. And since he is the Doctor, I am starting the physical therapy next week. Hope it works. The only bad part of the entire procedure to relieve me of my back pain has been the music that they played on the headset when I was in the MRI unit. I chose the Margarittaville radio station on Sirius Radio, and they didn't play a single Jimmy Buffett song the entire hour I was in the machine. Wait, maybe I slept through one of his songs! It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - The day after my exam with Dr. Gastaldo I received in the mail a CD that has 168 images on it from my MRI. Put it in my computer and had the exact same thing that the Doctor had on his computer. Pretty neat, but not sure what to do with it, yet. Following is an interview with Dr. John Gastaldo that I found on YouTube.

The "Keys for the City" Story

It was an ordinary day. Heading down Market Alley in downtown Lancaster to drop off a few photos at Strawberry & Company when I hear the music. Where's it coming from? As I round the corner at the historic market building, I see a young fellow with long flowing matted brown hair in black baggy pants, t-shirt, baseball cap and flip-flops sitting in front of a very colorful piano, making the most wonderful music I have heard in quite some time. Classical, I believe. No music in front of him, just his hands on the keys and his flip-flops pumping the pedals by his feet. This has been a common site on the downtown streets of Lancaster for the last two years. Called "Keys for the City" and haddrawn the city closer together. It is a joint effort of Music for Everyone, a local group that promotes music and supplies instruments for school music programs, and the regional Society of Design, an organization of design and art professionals. Corporate sponsors and individual donors are supporting the project with their donations of money and pianos. The leader of Music for Everyone, John Gerdy has received many good reports about the program. During a recent rainstorm, people placed protective tarps over each of the nine pianos that have now been given permanent homes under shelter. On one piano near the Fulton Opera House, instructional books have been left to encourage people to learn to play. Inside the book is a date of 1958. Someone's first level books from year's ago. Pretty neat! The pianos are decorated with scenes of the city as well as with whimsical colors and designs. An art teacher from JP McCaskey High School in Lancaster City enlisted the aide of a few students to paint a few of the pianos. Very little vandalism has occurred until recently when a piano in Lancaster's Musser Park had the keys removed, but within a few hours of the news being made public, five people had called John with offers to replace it. Wow! "It's really a great commentary on the people of the City of Lancaster. It makes you feel proud to live here," said John. Now, if only I could play the piano, I would share the bench with the musician I have listened to for the last half-hour. I only regret I didn't bring my camera. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - photos are of pianos placed around the city of Lancaster. Check out the YouTube video of Lancaster's "Keys for the City.

The "Free Snacks in Nottingham" Story

It was an ordinary day. Just got home after a nice day at Chesapeake City and a visit to Herr's Snack Foods in Nottingham, PA. Most times when we travel to the Chesapeake Bay area we pass the Herr factory in Nottingham. Often wanted to stop and see how they make all their snack foods, but never had the chance. They are always closed on weekends. So this year, neither my wife nor I work on Mondays during the summer, so we decided to stop and take the factory tour. A few months ago, during a visit to St. Martin, we found Herr's chips for

sale in a small pizza store on the French side of the island. Wow, potato chips from home made it the whole way to the Caribbean. Thought it pretty amazing they were shipped that far, so just had to see how they make them and manage to export them to the Caribbean. Tour started at 11:00 AM in the small 140 person theatre they had just for the tours. Watched a 10 minute video about the history of the company and then toured the factory. Company was started by James Herr in 1949 when, at the age of 21, he decided he wanted his own company and purchased a small potato chip company for $1,750. The purchased included a kettle for cooking the chips, a mechanical peeler and a mechanical potato slicer. Shortly after the purchase, and with a new bride, he moved the business into a vacated tobacco shed on his family farm. As demand for his chips grew, so did his company. In '49 he moved into a 3,600 sq. ft. facility he rented in West Willow, PA. Two years later, on September 5th, the place burned to

the ground because of overheated cooking oil. Shortly after, with help from family,friends and the bank, the Herrs bought 37 acres in Nottingham, and built a new 4,500 square-foot plant. Jim Herr equipped the new plant with the company's first automated cooker. In '56 he added a 7,000 sq. ft.warehouse and two years after that he began adding seasoning to the chips; Barbecue, Sour Cream and Onions, Old Bay, Salt & Vinegar, Pizza, Red Hot, Slightly Salted, Pa. Dutch, Dill, Sour Cream and Cheddar. In '63 he doubled his space by adding 21,000 sq. ft. to the plant and became Herr's Potato Chips, Inc. He also built his family house on the location. '64 brought the cardboard barrel to hold the chips as well as the wax paper bags. In '74 he changed to foil bags which, even thought they were more costly, kept the chips fresher. Over the next 10

years he added Cheese Curls, Popcorn, Pretzels, Corn and Tortilla Chips, and Onion Rings and began to export to other countries. In '88 he started a manufacturing licensee in Barbados. Ah Ha!! That's how the chips got to St. Martin. In 1989 he built the Visitor's Center and started the factory tours. During this century the company has grown until they now have more than 340 quality snacks. The tour we took was about an hour long and included a look at how they make their pretzels, potato and corn chips as well as how they are packaged. We were told, as we walked through the immense shipping department, that all the products we saw today will be out the door in three days, replaced with new products. They pride themselves on quality and freshness. Pretty impressive tour. Oh yeah, we did get to sample the chips as they came off the assembly line and got a free bag of chips after the tour was over. I was not able to take photos during the tour, but found hundreds of photos online and have included a few so you can see what I just saw on my tour. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - photos above show the chip rack I found in St. Martin, photo of the tobacco barn which was the start of Herr's Chips, front page of the local paper after the fire, and the original Nottingham plant.

Visitor's center

Trailer loaded with potatoes being emptied into the factory. Herr's gets potatoes from the east coast of the US. The location depends on the season.

Potatoes after washing and sorting. Heading to the slicer.

Chips after they have been deep-fried and heading to the carousel.

The multitude of bagging stations in the factory.

Chips on the carousel getting ready to travel to the bagging station.

Familiar Herr's foil bag being filled with chips.

Shipping Department. All items will be shipped within 3 days of manufacture.

The "A Lesson on Buying an Island Home" Story

It was an ordinary day. Just got finished watching a re-run of a HGTV International House Hunters show. This one had some interest for me since it was filmed in Sint Maarten in the Caribbean. A couple from the states named Dan and Casey from Jonesboro, Arkansas decided to buy a vacation home on Sint Maarten. They were shown three homes on the island by Arun Jagtiani, a local real estate agent, which is the general outline of the show. They are to choose one of them to purchase. The first home was brand new, but lacked the view and beach access they wanted. Really nice place with plenty of outdoor living. The second place was on the beach, but in a very crowded neighborhood and would need remodeling inside the house. The third home was up on a hill with a beautiful view of both the French side and the Dutch side of the island. It was an ugly green color and had a pool that was in terrible shape. The ground floor had renting tenants using it with a fierce dog. After reviewing their choices, which were all poor in my estimation, they chose the final house and paid $600,000 for the property. Didn't get the beach front they wanted or get anywhere near the beach. What they did get was a pack of trouble in having a tenant that they cannot get rid of. They purchased the home in December of 2009. The show aired a few months later and as of this posting, they are still not in the house. Almost 2 years later. Dan Johnson, the buyer, wrote a letter to the island edition of the Miami Herald asking for help from anyone. After purchasing the home the tenants were told they had 4 months to vacate the property. They requested more time and he granted it to them. After several weeks the tenant told Dan he wasn't moving out. In May of 2010, Dan contacted the island rental committee for advice. They said they would review the case and call both parties together the end of June. When June rolled around, the committee said that some of the board members were on vacation and they didn't get a chance to look at the case. Island Time! In August they informed Dan that they had no meeting space because of the upcoming elections in September. It seems that in Sint Maarten, as well as many other islands, the renter has squatters rights. As long as they don't fall more than 3 months behind in payments, you can't evict them. Can't even raise the rent. I just finished watching a re-run of the show about 2 years after Dan and Casey purchased it. I did some inquiry and a resident of the island told me that the renters are still in the house. Some say the real estate agent is to blame for not informing Dan about the rights of tenants on the island while others blame Dan for not asking about the tenant before he bought the house. Moral of the story I guess is to have a lawyer review your sale and don't rely on the real estate agent. Since I don't even have the money to hire the lawyer, I will never have the problem that Dan and Casey now have. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - I just had to include the great shot of a French Corsair landing at the Sint Maarten Princesss Juliana Airport. The runway starts right at the end of a beach and must start to land immediately since the runway isn't very long.

The "Sunrise at Bathsheba" Story

It was an ordinary day. Looking over a few brochures and maps on Barbados in preparation for our return trip to the island in the fall. Barbados is in the Southern Caribbean. An English island which is divided into parishes, much like the USA is divided into states. Along the rugged east coast is the fishing village of Bathsheba which is in the Saint Joseph Parish which has some 5,000 inhabitants. Legend has it that Bathsheba, wife of King David, bathed in milk to keep her skin beautiful and soft. And, legend also has it that the surf covered white waters of the village of Bathsheba, rich in minerals and life, is said to resemble Bathsheba's bath in both appearance and health giving value. Visitors come to breath the air, soak in the invigorating Bathsheba Pools and feel alive. The coast is breathtakingly beautiful with wide white sand beaches that feature rock formations against which the Atlantic rollers break in cascades of foam. Along the edge of the beach are rock formations broken away from ancient coral reef. The Bathsheba Pools rest between the shore and the rock formations and are several feet deep. They are constantly replentished with ocean water in a whirlpool like fashion which make them a popular bathing area. Swimming at Bathsheba is dangerous with riptides and undertows. The Soupbowl at Bathsheba derives its name from the foamy surf and is the site of local and international surfing championships. "The Merrymen", one of the islands most popular music groups, wrote and performed a song titled "Bathsheba". A few of the verses go like this:

When I feel down, when I feel low,

There's a place I know where I can go,

Down to the beach before the break of day,

To the sands of Bathsheba.

There's something special in every sunrise,

It's a brand new day, I'm glad to be alive,

Far from all my worries and grief,

Down at Bathsheba.

Just Sue, our traveling companion along with her husband Jerry, bought a "Merrymen's" CD on our first visit to Barbados. I naturally had to borrow it and make a copy. We have it in our car and listen to it all the time. A half year ago Carol told me that sometime we need to go back to Barbados. She said that listening to the CD made up her mind for her. She just has to go to Bathsheba and watch the sunrise. OK! When we visited Barbados our first time, we took an

island tour by bus and traveled to Bathsheba, but the weather was cloudy and we only spent an hour at a restaurant above the beach. I did walk down to the beach to take a few photos of the amazing rock formations, but welcome the chance to return and spend more time. Far from all my worries and dreams, down at Bathsheba. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - the two photos which have a cloudy sky are photos that I took. The others are from an internet site. Click on link below to hear "The Merrymen's" Bathsheba.

Free music - Bathsheba

The "Knowing the Ropes" Story

It was an ordinary day. Just saw a pretty funny "Target" ad about a gym teacher who was in the school gym talking about having his students climbing the ropes in class. Reminded me of my gym class in the 60s and having to climb the ropes in gym class. If you reached the top you got an "A". If you reached a point about two feet down from the top you got a "B". And, the "C" and "D" and "E" for marks under that. Yeah, you never got an "F" in our school. The "E" meant the same, but it didn't seem as bad as an "F". Well, I weighed about 140 pounds and was 6 feet tall. Really skinny! And ...... fairly weak. Guess I never changed, except for the weight. How was I going to climb to the top of the gym on a rope? I was sure I was in for an "E" in rope climbing. Then one day during gym class, while we were practicing rope climbing, I was holding the bottom of the rope for another classmate, Jack B., and saw how he wrapped his feet around the rope. The answer to my problem! When he came down he showed me how he wrapped his one leg around the rope and used his other foot to lock the rope in place. Wow! And, it worked. my first try using this technique had me go twice as high as I ever had gone. Wondered why the teacher had never shown us how to use this technique. I suspect he couldn't have climbed more than a few feet off the floor. Didn't get an "A", but I did pass gym class. Then came the chin-up bar (you may know it as the pull-up bar). Had to do 10 chin-ups for the "A". Had to jump about a foot off the ground, hold onto the bar, wait until you were perfectly still, and start lifting your body weight until your chin was on the bar. Lower yourself down and do it again, and again, and again. Needed 7 or more to pass. No way could I do that, either. Well, I passed. But, I only did 4! The day of the test on the chin-up bar, I took a couple of popsicyle sticks, put them on either side of one of my fingers on my left hand, and wrapped it with all kinds of tape. Looked professional! Told Mr. Lewars, my gym teacher, that I had sprained a couple of fingers at my part-time job. I think he actually felt bad about it. Told me I didn't have to take the test. But, I told him I wanted to try. I managed my 3 or 4, which I usually could do, and dropped off the bar, holding my hand. "You passed." he said. You know, after all these years, I still don't feel bad about doing that, because climbing to the top of the gym on a rope or being able to pull all your weight to the top of a bar, still seem stupid. I now have those ropes going up my steps on my deck behind my house. I ended up teaching at my HS Alma Mater and one day found the old ropes in a storage room in the high school. Asked the principal if I could have them and he was glad to get rid of them. Maybe some day I'll hang them in one of my walnut trees and see how high I can climb. Then again, maybe I won't! Why? Because it's still stupid. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary day.

The "Pigeon Shooting at Hal's" Story

It was an ordinary day. Just got back from the IA picnic at Hal's house near Lititz. The IA stand for Industrial Arts and is the subject I taught in high school for over 30 years. In the spring of most every year we have a picnic, usually on the last official day of school. The current teachers as well as the retired teachers get together to celebrate the end of another school year and to see friends that we may not have seen since last year. We try to move the picnic from one house to another, if possible, so one person doesn't have the chore of preparation and clean-up every year. Tonight we traveled to Hal's house in Lititz. A few of the IA guys built Hal's house for him a couple of years ago. Single home on a couple acres of ground, right across from an Amish farmer. If you are not familiar with the Amish, they do not believe in being attached to the outside world. Worldly things are frowned upon in the Bible, they say. So, no electricity and no indoor plumbing! Hal has made friends with his neighbor and tells us about how he farms and what he does different than most farmers. He also told us that we were going to go over to the farmer's field and shoot some pigeons; the clay variety. we grabbed his 12 gauge double-barrel, a box of clay pigeons, and a sling that we would use to "throw" the clay pigeons into the air so we could shoot them. This was something that I had never done before. I coached the high school rifle team for years, but that was shooting a 22 gauge single shot rifle at a target on a range. Should be fun, I thought. And, it was. Until it was my turn. I loaded two shells into the chambers of the shotgun, placed it against my shoulder, put my cheek against the stock, looked down the barrel, and yelled that I was ready. Someone launched a pigeon and I caught it in my sight and pulled the trigger. Pop! The clay pigeon exploded! "Good shot," everyone yelled. Then I tasted the blood. Shot again with the same results, and then more blood. The kick from the gun against my cheek had opened a couple of nice cuts on the inside of my cheek. And hurt quite a bit. Two shots was all I took that night. Too bad we didn't do that after I had eaten, since my mouth hurt so bad that I had a hard time eating the picnic meal that everyone had brought to the party. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.

The "Walls That Talk" Story

It was an ordinary day. Traveling through Lancaster to drop off a few photos at Strawberry & Company. Always enjoy my trip into town from the north, as I get to see many of the murals that have been painted on the walls and buildings of the city. I don't mean graffiti, but true art. There have been murals on walls as long as there have been people to scratch them, paint them, etch them, carve them and make them. Mural painting dates back at least 30,000 years to cave paintings. In some cases these mystical and magical works have luckily been preserved by the rocky shelters they inhabit, allowing later generations to enjoy and learn from them. These ancient murals often depicted activities in which the people of the time engaged, from religious ceremonies to scenes of hunting and gathering for sustenance. Today's murals in the city also depict the activities of the people who inhabit the city. The painting itself is masterful. The talent it takes to create a mural on the side of a 20 foot building is remarkable. As I traveled south on Prince Street into the city, I am greeted with a 10 foot high wall which is covered with art for about about 50 feet. The wall is in front of a home for the elderly. The art work was done by two young women over five years ago. Took them almost all summer to complete it and it depicts life in downtown Lancaster; the independent baseball team, the local opera house, the art galleries and cafes, and the bicycle race through the downtown streets. Luckily, neither graffiti nor fading have taken a toll on the wall. A turn to the right on Walnut Street yields two fantastic scenes, a block apart. The first scene, on a building which is for lease, is on the second floor of the stucco building. It depicts scenes such as quilting, dancing, farm life and a day at market, and a look at the founding fathers of Lancaster. This was completed by a female artist 8 years ago. Still has most of the brilliant colors from when it was completed. In the next block, over a business, is one of my favorites. Shows the West End neighborhood as it appeared about 8 years ago. Colors are pastel, but not necessarily faded. Same girl who did the 50 foot wall did this mural. On the east end of town on King Street, about 3 blocks from the center of the city, is a fairly recent mural depicting The Eastern Market in the city. Very vibrant colors. A block further east yields a second floor mural which looks like a quilt and was done by a young artist and four students from the city high school. All the murals are fantastic, but my favorite is only about a mile from my house on a road that still has a few farms scattered along the road. On the property of two students who I had in class many years ago. Al and Art Reist grew up on the family farm which still has Clydesdale horses in the fields. And, on the old wooden barn along the road is a wall that displays a mural in memory of one of their relatives who died in the French and Indian War at Fort Necessity, PA. Jacob Reist was transporting supplies for George Washington in a Conestoga Wagon when he was ambushed and killed. I drive by the farm regularly and am always amazed at the talent and skill of the artist who painted the mural. Hope you have "Walls that talk" along your journey. Makes the ride more interesting. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy. PS - the following are photos I took of the work I described in my story.

Mural on North Prince Street as I enter the city of Lancaster. Three photos show the size of the mural and the last photo gives the names of the artists.

Mural on the second floor of a Pittsburgh Paint/Curves store that has closed and is for lease. Really bright colors. 2nd photo shows the artist's name.

A mural with very soft tomes and colors depicts a neighborhood on the West Side of the city. 2nd photo gives the artist's name.

Mural painted on the side of a building on East King Street in Lancaster. Represents what the area was like when there was an open air market.

Mural at the corner of Plum and King Streets in the city. 2nd photo gives information about the mural.

The mural on the barn of Eden Road. Information about the mural accompanies the photo of the mural.