Braddock's Defeat

Today, July 9th, marks the 260th anniversary of the Battle of the Monongahela (Braddock's Defeat). A statue of a young George Washington stands guard near the Braddock Carnegie Library where he earned quite the reputation for being brave as one of only a few officers to escape unharmed, despite bullet holes in his uniform.

It will be a quiet day in Braddock. For many, the day will pass without a thought of what happened in this region 260 years ago. Before 2011, only a few historic markers existed that alluded to Braddock's Defeat. But how could something so significant be one of the area's best kept secrets?

"It's not a local problem. It's a western Pennsylvania problem," explains Robert Messner, who opened Braddock's Battlefield History Center four years ago. "This area was so rich in natural resources, in industry, that we never had to think about tourism as an industry."

Messner said part of his motivation to open the center was knowing that people were being turned away when they would inquire about any existing battle sites.

"I thought for a community that is flat on its tail because of the decline of the basic steel industry turning away potential tourism, what a waste."

Tourism is the number two industry in the state but Messner says most of the dollars are made in the eastern section of the state near Gettysburg and Hershey. Messner says what our half of Pennsylvania has to offer, between Fort Necessity, Fort Pitt, Braddock's Field and Bushy Run, is a historical gold mine.

"We've got the father of our country running around here as a young man and he's making mistakes all over the place in his earlier years before this battle [of Monongahela.]"

This battle was a turning point for Officer Washington who decided to give a military career one last chance before resigning to a life of farming. He heard that the British general Edward Braddock was coming to throw the French out of Fort Duquesne and thought he could learn something from this well respected figurehead. Braddock wanted Washington on his side due to his valuable knowledge of the terrain, so he made Washington a member of his personal staff to resolve any rank issues between British and colonial troops.

"This was his last major engagement that Washington fights in before he shows up 20 years later in Philadelphia at the Continental Congress wearing his French and Indian War uniform from this battle campaigning to lead the Continental Army in the American Revolution."

Messner says Washington was chosen largely due to the reputation he built during Braddock's Defeat when he pleaded with Braddock to allow the troops to fire from cover like their opponents. This battle was considered an Indian victory and those fighting under Braddock, who survived, were disgraced - everyone except Washington, who many historians say was the indispensable person in American history.

"If it had not been for what happened here, if he had not come on the expedition, if he had not been so brave here, and if people did not spread that truth, God knows what would have happened."

Photo courtesy of Braddock's Battlefield History Center

How The Life Goes On

I have seen enough nature shows to know occasionally things go bad.

You've probably seen a few too. For example, when the orca whale slides onshore and grabs a cute, unassuming baby leopard seal. Or when the lion grabs an impala who strayed a bit too far from the pack.

Nature has been a little rough closer to home as well.  We typically get to experience the joys of spring when a robin's nest in our cherry tree is filled with fuzzy babies. Last year, one fell out of the nest, before it was ready to fly, and it did not survive. It was pathetic to see and hard to explain to an 8-year-old who was staring at a lifeless bird.

Fast forward to this past Thursday. We were about to begin our quest to tackle the day when the now nine-year-old ran into the house with an urgent message.

"There is a dead rabbit in our yard!"

Here's the backstory. We have been enthralled these past couple of weeks by our own little nature show involving a couple of baby bunnies. The little guys were usually not far from their mom's watchful eye and boy are they ever cute. Hopping around and really getting some good air as their little legs lift off of the ground. It is almost as if they have a little trampoline underneath them.

We picked up on their hiding spots; one beside our shed and the other in what looks like a poison ivy patch to the right of our house.  It was worrisome when a day would go by and we wouldn't see them but then the next day we would notice a small tuft of white and a sweet little tail bouncing about.

When alerted by my son's news my first response was, "It's not one of the babies is it?" But even though they were spared, the revelation that it was the mother was probably even a worse outcome. How would the little ones survive?

Everything I had to do that morning took a backseat because, you see, the story is a little more complicated than just a dead animal in the yard. The dead animal was tangled in my son's baseball backstop net. The net system is on loan and the cost to replace it - around $100. It appears the rabbit was probably being chased in the night and didn't see the netting. Her head got caught and she couldn't get free. She died from strangulation.

My first call was to animal control. I was worried about the babies and wanted to know if someone would have to come pick them up to ensure their survival. Luckily, because we have seen them out in the grass eating, the man I spoke with said they could fend for themselves. During the conversation, I did not reveal how the mother had died. I felt guilty.

My next couple calls were to men I knew that could help me remove the lifeless mass. My husband was at work and I did not want him coming home after a long day to deal with carcass removal especially at the start of his birthday weekend. But my options were limited and I wasn't having much luck. I wanted to be strong and "man up" but this was going to be unlike anything I've done before. Heck, I can't even remove mice when they get caught in a trap. How was I supposed to take care of an adult rabbit?

But then that "Bishop Determination" I've inherited kicked in and there was no other option but to get the job done. The job took all the courage a girl could muster and time, lots and lots of time. I had to prepare myself both physically and mentally for the task at hand. It would have been so easy just to make one cut of the net to release the lifeless rabbit but knowing what that would cost, I was reluctant to do it. 

I basically used my gloved hands to free the rabbit's head with the care and delicateness of a surgeon. It was the ears that gave me trouble, I'm sure you can understand, but once I had tucked them through the net, the rest was easy. Obviously, my children made themselves scarce for this procedure with my youngest expressing concern every couple of minutes, "Mom, please don't do this. You don't have to do this!"

The relief I felt when I slid the rabbit out from the net triggered an instant emotional response. My little guy put his arms around me and we cried together. He was sad because he felt responsible for the mama bunny's death. My tears were a combination of winning a victory for not needing a man to rescue me and secondly for having the death net in our yard in the first place.

This morning, as I waited for my coffee to brew, I looked out of my kitchen window. I saw the brother bunnies chasing each other and hopping around. I felt a sense of relief knowing they are doing ok and that they have each other.  According to bunnylady.com, rabbits don't have emotions the way people do but when they are bouncing with energy it means they are happy. And speaking as a mom, that is all you can ask for your kids.

Brother bunny 1 - photo credit Nolan Keleschenyi

Not Ready For This

The day is here. 

The day I have dreaded for 17 years. Can you believe it? No? Well, put yourself in my shoes. In a few short hours I may have a licensed teen driver in my house.

Now many have you have been through this before. You are probably shaking your head in solidarity. But I am on the precipice of sheer madness and there is nothing I can do to stop it. 

Luckily, for me, this journey took a lot longer than it should have. My son got his driver's permit 19 months ago. We've had to renew it once. But let's face it. He really wasn't ready. His father and I weren't really ready. Our journey unfolded at our own snail-like pace. 

There was much talk between my son and his sister last summer about getting his license so he could drive them both to school for his senior year. There was also much talk about stopping at Dunkin' Donuts every day and getting frappatinos and mochalottos, which neither of them had the budget for. All the "talk" came mostly from the younger member of the duo. But that ship came and went due mostly to lack of motivation on his part and lack of sheer interest on my part. 

Here is the reality. My son is smart; super smart, but lacks some common sense. I've seen him get in the car and wonder why it isn't moving. Yes, he forgot the keys. I have seen my son run through a stop sign and then say, "Oh, I didn't see that." (But hey, haven't we all done that?)

But I've also seen him flawlessly pull into a parking spot I never would have attempted. I've seen him merge perfectly when I didn't think he had checked his mirrors. He has assured me - "Mom, I've got this."

At this point I cannot hold him back any longer. I have to encourage my little bird to fly and the best way to fly is to start up the car and hit the gas. I know from my experience I wasn't a good driver at first. In fact, I failed my first driver's test because I didn't use my turn signals once. But in my defense, the test was in a parking lot. Why did I need to signal in an empty parking lot? (Can you tell I am still bitter?)

Heck, I couldn't even parallel park until months after I had my license when a friend's father saw me struggling one day and patiently walked me through it. Without Mr. Jones, I would not be the amazing parallel princess I am today. 

So, looking back on experience, I know I need to let go. As luck would have it, when we went online to schedule the test, the first available opening, surprisingly, was today. I skipped past that date and went right to the next available option - July 23 and of course ol' hawk eyes spots the 2nd and says, "What about that day?" 

And I say, "It's booked."

"No, no," he says, "See, there is a spot for 3:45 p.m." (You cannot put anything past this kid except maybe a stop sign.)

I say, "Do you want to do it that soon?"

"YES!" He says, emphatically.

So here we are. I know this is the right thing to do and the next step we must take. Due to the new covid-19 driving text regulations, I'll be the licensed driver in the car with him while the examiner, who will remain outside of the vehicle, administers the test. I was there when the kid came into the world. It is only fitting I'll be there when the open road becomes his. 

Practice makes perfect and yes, we'll start off slow - driving to work, driving to the post office, driving me to the Fine Wine and Spirits outlet. Hopefully, with experience his confidence will grow and my anxiety level will decrease. I know I'll never stop worrying but maybe once I can send him out to get the groceries, I'll look at things in a different light. 

Until then, keep me in your thoughts. Who knows, Independence Day might have a little more meaning this year for one almost 18-year-old.  Yet, I hold this truth to be self-evident, I was not cut out for this. 

Nick, age 7 months, in my Dad's work truck.

Answering The Call

I got some exciting news a few weeks ago.

A friend of mine is going to be ordained a priest next month. This is exciting news because we weren't quite sure when it was going to happen. We thought we knew, back before there was a state shut down and our country was stopped in its tracks by Covid-19; it was originally supposed to be this month.

Had life gone on as usual, he probably would be a priest right now but that was not how things played out. He missed out on all of the traditional events held for students wrapping up their studies at the seminary - they were all cancelled. Not to be rescheduled.

I got the ordination news via text. There has been a delay in any concrete information as to when his ordination would take place. He is originally from an area that was particularly hard hit by the coronavirus and things are just starting to open up in his hometown. I had just spoken with him a few days prior and there was nothing to report on the big event. He and his family has been eagerly awaiting news so they could begin planning the next new chapter of their lives.

 You may have noticed I mentioned his family. He is married and has two children under six. (Byzantine Catholic priests are now allowed to be married as long as they do so before they are ordained.) All the time he has been going to school here in Pittsburgh, he has been juggling his studies along with his husband/father roles.

I know how hard it is to manage all of the above. When I went back to school to get my meteorology certification, I was married, working part-time, had a one-year-old and was living out of state. By the time I graduated from the three-year online program, I was expecting my second child the following month. I know how hard it is to go back to school as an adult and I have sincere admiration for those who take on the task.

As a child, my family did not have any "priest" friends. We did not have our pastor over for dinner and my mom did not call him on the phone and have long chats. As I became more involved at my current parish, I have had the honor to befriend some really good people who have chosen the most selfless vocation there is - a shepherd to the sheep, helping administer to those on a journey of faith. These people are only human, people like you and me, who just happen to have answered a heavenly call.

It has been enlightening, from where I'm sitting, to have had this experience with this particular friend. I have befriended seminarians in the past but this is different. This has been the experience of getting to know this man and his family with the understanding that what is about to happen will forever change the course of their lives. Knowing they will soon move away and he will eventually have his own parish to oversee and it will take the love and support of his family and friends to help him deal with the highs and lows of leading a congregation.

 It has been a tough time for Catholics over the years. Scandal after scandal has rocked the faithful to their core - some to the point of losing their faith. It makes one wonder why someone would even consider stepping in to a seat that is already hot. But, as is the case for any profession, there are good people and bad people. Luckily, there are still individuals not afraid to put themselves out there as stewards to a wounded flock - stewards hoping to lead by example and do what they can to help the faithful stay the course.

My friend is one of the good people and has been there for me whenever I needed help with our church's Sunday school program - willing to help at a moment's notice.  Willing to talk when a listening ear was needed. Willing to help me at times my faith was wavering; speaking with the understanding he doesn't have all the answers. He knows there may not always be a black and white solution to the problems we face but if we address them prayerfully and with an open heart our faith will see us through.

I have been honored to have been part of this man's journey. I have been blessed to get to know his supportive wife, who also made every effort to assist our congregation where needed, and their adorable children. It is sad to see them go but I know they will be embraced with loving arms by the next group of faithful who will be graced with their presence.

Due to the social restrictions in place, my family is not able to be present for the upcoming ordination service, but the event will be streamed online. There is nothing that has strengthened my faith more than to have this family in my life - to see them live out their calling in such a patient and loving way. I know the goal of faithfulness is attainable when our church is infused with special people whose calling goes beyond their own home and their purpose transcends an Earthly explanation.

An Alternate Ending

And just like that, it was all over.

It has been an emotional roller coaster these last couple of months- wondering what would happen with my son's high school graduation in light of Covid-19. There were meetings, emails, and letters sent out trying to involve all the stakeholders to see what option would be best.

Many families did not want to have the proposed parking lot ceremony - they wanted the traditional stadium graduation which was always supposed to be final stop on these kids' high school journey. The social distancing guidelines would not allow this on the originally scheduled day, or even throughout most of the summer,  so it was decided to do what could be done on the day set aside nearly one year ago.

It was uncertain back in May just what this kind of ceremony would look like. We attended a parking lot event on a much smaller scale for National Honor Society a few weeks back, but it was a windy day that rendered the microphone useless and visibility was at a minimum for all the participants. I did not have high hopes once we tripled the number of people who would be participating.

One of the biggest aspects of an event such as graduation is taking photos. I knew this would also be limited, but once I found out my son would be one of the speakers (as co-salutatorian) I needed to know what my options were to capture the moment. The day before the event, I was told that I would need to stay in my car because roaming around the parking lot would not be encouraged.

I did not anticipate the atmosphere we would encounter once we arrived at the school.

Imagine hundreds of kids, decked out in their caps and gowns, on their graduation day, in an outdoor setting with their classmates they had not seen in two months. It was more like a tailgate party for a concert at Heinz Field. It made me anxious, happy and confused all at the same time. I kept replaying in my head the conversation, the day before, with a school security officer - then I looked at my son, sitting in the back of our van and I said, "Let's go. It's your graduation day and we are getting photos with your friends."

For the most part, after the graduation photo shoot, we remained in our van. But during my son's speech and when his name was called - the moment required getting out and moving to get a closer view and to be able to hear more clearly. With a large number of people out of their cars, I didn't think I would be the one to get the first slap on the wrist for not social distancing.

It was a night to remember for sure. So many things etched in my memory. The decorated cars, the smiling kids, the Class of 2020 masks, the hugs...Yes, I grabbed moms I had journeyed with for the past 13 years and gave them a hug. I cried so many tears - happy tears. Tears for the gift of this special night which almost was cancelled due to weather concerns. I cried tears of relief that this chapter had a happy ending and so many people made it a priority to see it through and give the kids the recognition they deserved.

But you know what the best part of it all was? The ending. The plan was for the cars to exit the school grounds for a parade leading to the traffic light on Route 30. As families departed, to the sounds of School's Out by Alice Cooper, we were met by people- people who lined the streets to send these kiddos off with the fanfare of a Super Bowl championship extravaganza. The first face we saw was Principal Sean Gildea, who welcomed our family with open arms at the start of our journey in the district 13 years ago.

Teachers, friends, firefighters, police officers, people who just happened to live on the parade route greeted these graduates with shouts of congratulations and enthusiastic waves as they began their next chapter post high school. I don't know who enjoyed the moment more - my son or his father and I.

As I write this, the tears well up again. I am so thankful for this beautiful memory. Yes, the ending was not what we expected but in many ways it was better. Like the storm that precedes the rainbow, the colors outshine the darkness. And for me and my 2020 graduate, those colors will last a lifetime.

EA 2020 graduates Madison Spahr and Nick. 

Hot and Ready

They say you never forget your first time.

And that is the truth - at least for me when I think about my first Krispy Kreme donut.

It was the weekend of April 17, 1998 and a friend and I were visiting a former co-worker who had moved to Charleston, South Carolina. It was a long drive from Johnstown, PA and, if I remember correctly, once we arrived, we went out for a late dinner. This left us quite tired once we got back to his place and everyone immediately crashed for the night. 

The following morning, my friend and I were treated to true southern hospitality - coffee and donuts in bed. 

I remember laying eyes on the round confection covered in chocolate icing. It looked delicious and elegant at the same time on its own round plate. The first bite was life changing. I immediately asked my friend where he got the donuts from.

"Krispy Kreme," he said. I told him I had never heard of a Krispy Kreme. He was aghast. "You've never had a Krispy Kreme?"

At the time, I was only familiar with Dunkin Donuts, Donut Connection and Eddie's Donuts (in Trenton, New Jersey on the way to the beach.) My friend explained the amazing Krispy Kreme concept - fresh off the presses donuts when the hot light is on. What an idea! 

The first store opened in Winston-Salem, North Carolina in 1937 and I guess because of their southern roots, Krispy Kreme was mostly a below the Mason-Dixon Line attraction. (Until the 2000s, which we will talk about later.)

 I'm not sure if it was on this particular trip to South Carolina when I had my first hot and ready donut but it certainly became a regular habit once my husband and I moved to Virginia Beach and a few Krispy Kreme stores were close to my workplace. There were even times, back when I did morning traffic reports on the radio, we had hot donuts during our shift. Oh, those were the days!

It was such a treat to introduce family and friends to the 'hot now' donuts when they would come down to Virginia to visit. My oldest was only two when we moved back to Pittsburgh so his early memories of Krispy Kreme are not very clear. We do have photos of the kids at a Krispy Kreme in Richmond years ago, when there were only two kids, not three, and ironically, we had stopped in to visit the friend who introduced me to the Krispy Kremes in the first place. The kids were given paper side-cap style hats as they watched the donuts get a bath in the sugary glaze on the conveyor belt. Plus, they both had icing on their little cheeks.

But it has become a tradition in recent years to stop and get donuts just before we begin the 8-hour drive back to Pittsburgh from our annual Sandbridge vacation. The sting of leaving the beach is lessened by the comfort of stuffing a soft, sugary pillow of dough in our sad little faces. The smell that lingers in the car is like an elixir numbing us to our return to everyday life. 

It was only fitting this past weekend, that my husband and I, along with our soon to be high school graduate, made the 1-hour drive to the nearest Krispy Kreme in Washington, PA. (In the early 2000s, the company went public and opened numerous stores including one in Monroeville, where Chick-fil-A now stands, but it seems the public model didn't work well for the formerly private southern based firm and many of the stores, which opened during that time, ended up closing.)

Krispy Kreme had been offering, for one week only, a special 2020 graduation dozen in response to the pandemic and the tough break these hard-working kiddos were dealt. It was worth the 2-hour round trip journey just to smell that smell, which our son even said "smelled like Virginia" and bask in the glow of an untouched box of decorative donuts. These special offerings were not "hot" but tasted so fresh just the same. It is a shame how quickly a Krispy Kreme can be eaten. It takes lots of self-control to not eat the whole box. 

So hats off to you, Krispy Kreme, for making another special memory for our family. In a few weeks, we'll be back in Virginia, and while I'm not wishing away my vacation, I do have my sights set on a hot and ready that never disappoints and always reminds me of my first time. 

I'm All Verklempt

Do you have that person in your life?

That person who, early on, made such a difference they changed the course of your journey?

Well, my person happened to be a teacher and during Teacher Appreciation Week, I thought it might be a good time to share my experience with this man.

Now keep in mind it has been 30 years since I was a student in Raymond Geissler's U.S. History Class during my junior year at McKeesport Area High School. I ended up having him for two classes during my high school career including economics. He was a big personality. I remember hearing his voice all the way down the hall between periods. Students would be hustling from classroom to classroom and you could hear him from one end of the hallway to the next.

As much as he was likable - he was also tough. Before a test he would give his famous speech. "If anyone is caught cheating..." I don't remember the exact wording of the speech but it contained a warning that the word cheater would be written in our permanent file "in red ink, in my handwriting."

This speech was so convincing, I couldn't even think about cheating. I felt like even if I thought about it, he would know and then my permanent file - red ink - branded for life.

Mr. Geissler taught me more than just about getting by without cheating. He also taught me about work ethic. When I took his economics class we would have daily homework but it wasn't always collected. Sometimes days would go by without him asking for proof we did the assignment.

I guess that routine gave me a bit of false comfort on the one evening I did not do my homework. The next day when he came around to collect our papers (and I remember it like it was yesterday) desperately wishing in the moment I could go back to the night before and actually complete the assignment. But, it was too late.

After class, he pulled me aside and asked me why I hadn't done the work.

I didn't have a legitimate excuse.

He told me if someone contacted him to give me a reference, prior to that day, he could say, "You could be count on her 100% of the time." But now, if someone contacted him and asked about me he would say, "You can only count on her some of the time."

I was devastated. How could I have screwed up so badly? My friends tried to help me feel better by saying he took it too far and was being overdramatic but those words ended up guiding me well throughout my life. Don't get me wrong. It is hard to live by Mr. Geissler's standards but it is nice to be thought of as dependable. I have shared that story with my children. They think it is horrible and unnecessary. I now think of it as tough love.

But my favorite memory of Mr. Geissler, is the day I decided to do an unplanned monologue in front of his class. I don't know what was going on with me that day but I was moved to raise my hand and ask if I could share an experience I had the night before. I had been studying, on my bedroom floor, and using his U.S history notebook as a coaster for a hot beverage. (Yes, this is exactly what a teacher wants to hear.) I ended up spilling the beverage but the thick cover of the notebook absorbed the liquid and no harm was done to the thin, white pages, filled with notes from class.

I guess I was inspired by Mike Myers' recurring sketch on Saturday Night Live "Coffee Talk with Linda Richman" where he would impersonate a stereotypical Jewish, middle-aged woman with an exaggerated New York accent. She would throw in some Yiddish words and when she got upset she would say, "I'm all verklempt."

Yes, I borrowed that line from Linda when I retold my story. It felt good to be in front of the class - having my classmates attention and making them laugh.

After class, Mr. Geissler pulled me aside. He had a twinkle in his eye. He told me how much he loved my story and how much he loved seeing that side of me. Prior to that day, I had never shared that side. In fact, I hardly raised my hand to participate during his class. You wouldn't even know I was there. He asked me to share that fun side of me more often.

That day, he gave me confidence and I never looked back.

My career path has included both radio and television work and I firmly believe those opportunities would not have been possible without Raymond Geissler. I will always been indebted to him for inspiring a once awkward teenager, coming off of years of bullying due to a speech impediment.

I'm sure he didn't know that day what he did for me but I have spent each day since then thankful God placed him in my life at just the right time.

So during Teacher Appreciation Week try to remember a teacher that inspired you and if you can, let them know. 

A teacher affects eternity: he can never tell where his influence stops. -  Henry Adams, American historian.