Category: Water Under the Bridge

The first July meeting of the Bridgeville High School Brunch Club was a red-letter event, enhanced by the arrival of John Rosa for the summer. John, whom we fellow members of the Class of 1949 knew as “Yunner”, moved to Arizona fifty years ago, but comes back for an extended visit each year and is welcomed with open arms. John has always been a popular, outgoing guy and probably has more close friends in the Bridgeville area than any pair of us combined. He was a key member of the Baldwin Street clique in our class, a clique that also…

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I am now back in the “real world” after a week’s vacation at the Chautauqua Institution, courtesy of my daughter Elizabeth and her family. Any vacation is an escape from the minor everyday problems of living independently in the real world. This one was enhanced by two factors – my temporary conversion into a dependent of a functioning family group and the location of this specific vacation. Every visit to Chautauqua seems like an episode from “Brigadoon”, a visit to a village that doesn’t appear to belong in the twenty-first century. Physically, it consists of immaculately maintained buildings dating back…

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I have just returned from a very pleasant, extended Father’s Day Weekend in Fort Collins, Colorado, with my daughter Sara and her family. Although Sara and Ian had come East for my grand-daughter Rachael’s high school graduation party, I hadn’t seen Jim or the girls since my ninetieth birthday celebration in California last July. Trips to Colorado are always lots of fun; this one was no exception. Fort Collins is a delightful city located at the edge of the foothills where the Cache La Poudre River comes out of the Rocky Mountain Front Range and heads east to join the…

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Last week we discussed the first half of Leesa Shady’s walking tour of Bridgeville’s historic commercial district, sponsored by the Bridgeville Area Historical Society, and my attempt to recreate it as it existed seventy-five years ago. This week we pick up the tour in front of DaBlaze Grill, walking south on the west side of Washington Avenue. Isaly’s occupied the first store front on the southwestern corner of the Station Street/Washington Avenue intersection in the mid 1940s. Earlier that site had been a grocery store, either Butler’s or A & P. According to old maps there were five distinct buildings…

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Another red-letter event this month was the Bridgeville Area Historical Society’s walking tour of Bridgeville’s business district. Organized and led by Leesa Shady, with the assistance of Donna Dalke, it was a memorable event that begs to be repeated many times in the future. Ms. Shady had obviously done her homework for this project, even to providing the participants with a booklet filled with historical photographs of the buildings and sites that we visited. Despite the real-time atmosphere of the walk, I found myself being visited by ghosts from the past. When I think about “downtown” Bridgeville, I remember it…

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I have just completed an enjoyable week trying to hone my skills as a patriarch. My daughter Sara and my grandson Ian came from Colorado for a visit and stayed with me. It has been six years since we lost my wife, and I have become comfortable living alone; adapting my widower routines to include house guests presented a handful of challenges, all well worth overcoming. The specific rationale for their visit was to help us celebrate my grand-daughter Rachael’s high school graduation. Fortunately for me they came early enough that we could enjoy family time together, an opportunity that…

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Author Chris Rodell paid a return visit to the Bridgeville Area Historical Society program series this month, completing a two-part series of presentations on Latrobe’s two famous sons – Fred Rogers and Arnold Palmer. It is indeed an impressive coincidence that these two internationally famous men spent their youth together in the same small Pennsylvania town. Palmer was born on September 10, 1929, in Latrobe and grew up there, largely at Latrobe Country Club where his father, “Deacon” Palmer, was groundskeeper and eventually head professional. In his first high school match, as a fourteen-year-old Freshman, he shot a 70 (two…

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Warm weather has brought us the festival season, with the National Road Festival kicking it off. Billed as “the world’s longest festival” it stretches the length of the original National Pike, from Cumberland, Maryland, to Vandalia, Illinois. We are not in a position to judge its popularity for its entire length, but it certainly was a major success this year in the section between Brownsville and Washington, Pennsylvania. Like so many other events that have been constrained by the pandemic for the past two summers, this festival seemed bigger and better than ever this year. I had the good fortune…

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“Oh, to be in England, now that April’s there” is the first line of Robert Browning’s popular poem, “Home Thoughts from Abroad”. Written in 1845 when the homesick poet was visiting northern Italy, it is the ultimate tribute to Spring and to home. As I was enjoying Spring in Western Pennsylvania this morning, that refrain came to mind and I realized that there really isn’t anywhere else in the world I would rather be this time of year. The occasion was a morning hike in the woods across the street from my home, on a lovely May morning. I had…

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Like most local sport fans, I was intrigued by this year’s NFL draft, curious to see if the Steelers would draft Kenny Pickett as a replacement for Ben Roethlisberger or run the risk of missing out on “another Dan Marino”. Consequently I elected to invest a few minutes watching what turned out to be a TV extravaganza. This year’s draft was programmed from Los Vegas and eventually took up two evenings and one afternoon of prime-time television. The attraction that professional football has on our entertainment dollar is unprecedented. Not only do the televised games dominate our interest over a…

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