Saving things & Saving memories

I get contemplative sometimes and am so today. I’m sitting in my chair looking at the black screen of my television. It’s 5:24 am, September 12^th, and the cable it out, and so is the internet. Both were up and running through the entire Hurricane Irma event, and now that the pressure is off, they’re gone.

The lack of entertainment has caused me to start writing. I really enjoy creative writing for my blog and telling stories. This one may cause you to look back and reflect, as I am doing right now.

I’ve recently been plagued by some skeletal and nerve issues. Initially diagnosed and treated for sciatica, I still am hobbling around like Grampa Amos on the Real McCoy’s. The physical problems I am dealing with now have their roots in West Pittston, PA, January 1996.

Lea Ann and I had been married 6 months and were living in a half double block home that was only one block from the Susquehanna river. It was a nice place with very little insulation, high heating bills, and a gorgeous set of stairs to the second floor that was the stage for photo’s of Lea Ann and her bridal party on the day of our wedding.

During the latter part of the first week in January 1996, we had a 30-inch snowfall that took us 2 days to clear and pile. There were huge piles of snow everywhere. The Nor-Easter had dropped copious amounts of snow all the way up the east coast into New York and New England.

It was probably around the 12^th of January, (Lea Ann’s birthday) that we had an early spring thaw, and the temperatures rose into to 50’s, and then, a front passed through causing it to rain. It rained heavily and the snow melted from upstate New York and everywhere else in between. The river swelled and rose toward flood stage. We were in harm's way if the river rose to 32 feet. It had done so many times in the past when we lived elsewhere and it now looked like it would do it again. Towns downriver of us were protected by a levy, and even the folks in those towns were being told to evacuate. We were about to lose are things in a flood.

Lea and I started to empty the basement of everything we had put there. It didn’t take long for us to realize that we needed to empty the first-floor stuff to the second floor, and up that gorgeous staircase. I called my friend Vince Shea for help. Thinking back, I’ll bet it was 10 pm when I made that call. Vince came to our house and helped me hump all of our furniture to the second floor into the wee hours. All except one piece. We had a green and white striped sofa that opened up to be a very unconformable queen size bed, it weighed a ton. Vince and I were able to get it onto the staircase but not very far up at all. While Vince was lifting and pulling it from atop the staircase I was lifting and pushing it from the bottom, like one of those guys from the worlds strongest man competition. With one last oomph, we had it to the fourth step, as I felt a little twinge in my right knee.

The Susquehanna rose, and stopped on our front sidewalk, it didn’t get into the house. We had dodged the bullet, in a matter of speaking. It took a while to get ourselves back to normal. I’m sure Vince came back to help us retrieve our furniture from the steps and the second floor. No one person could have done what we did. I’ll never forget how Vince helped us at a time when we were helpless. There’s only one Vince Shea, and we are so glad he is among our friends.

My right knee caused problems with my back about 6 years ago. I do not remember what I was doing, but I felt a twinge in my back that started it all.  Although I do not know the correct terminology, I can tell you that my right leg is not straight. Below my knee, my right leg is bent out to the right.

This summer Lea Ann and I went on an extended vacation in the Finger Lakes region of New York State. We chose that northern location mostly so we could get out of Florida’s oppressive summer heat and humidity for a while.

The residence for our month long vacation was a rental property perched atop a cliff overlooking Lake Seneca and the town of Watkins Glen, NY. A great location to isolate yourself from the day to day, and relax. We were also centrally located and thus we were able to venture out in all directions exploring all there was to see. The weather was incredible, we visited so many quaint towns, wineries, distilleries, the Corning glass museum, the Park Avenue Festival in Rochester, NY and a few casinos.

We visited with family and friends and even made new friends as we were able to attend a party in the lower tier of NY, held at the home of a couple who also reside in Spruce Creek Preserve, the community where we now live permanently. (Thanks for the invite Diane). We were also able to visit with our first cousins Liz Singer, and John Loftus and their families. John, Amy and their family were vacationing in from Japan.

After being in our cliff top retreat for a couple of weeks, we decided to tidy up a bit. LA ran the sweeper, and I used the Swifter. While reaching behind a sofa with the swiffer I felt that all to familiar twinge in my back. Within minutes I was hobbling in pain, in the leg, butt, and knee. Thank God for Aleve!

On our way back home, we stopped in Santee, SC, and saw the total Eclipse of the Sun. I had to include this event in my story because it was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen. Second only to seeing Lea Ann at the back of St. Mary of the Assumption Church in Pittston, on July 15, 1995.

Once home, (August 25^th) I made an appointment with the doctor and was diagnosed with sciatica. I was treated, and the excruciating pain was gone, but I was still couldn’t walk more than 50 feet without pain. (As a follow-up, I’ll be going to PT later this week, and I am sure my condition will be resolved.)

Then, a day or two before Labor Day we all started hearing about a tropical depression headed west from Africa that might impact the US mainland. Irma. I’ll spare you of any recap of the next 8 days.

As the storm was predicted to run through central Florida, we decided to evacuate our house. Our house, made of wood would likely have heavy damage if exposed to the foretasted 120+ mph winds. My brother and sister in law that live not too far from us, and live in a house made from concrete. (Think three little pigs and the big bad wolf)

Hobbled by my back and knee, Lea Ann took on the task of packing us up, and packing the car. I never felt so useless in my life. She did an amazing job. Lea Ann came into the living room and started taking framed photographs from the tables and bookcase. Saving our memories, irreplaceable photos, and mementos. Like the photo of our wedding party. She wasn’t looking to save our things.

With age comes wisdom.

Irma left us with a pile of medium to small size pieces of oak tree in our back yard, and a leaky window to fix or replace. We dodged a bullet.

Breaking up is hard to do. ~ to ~ Walking on Sunshine.

I started a new chapter in my life one year ago today, June 2, 2016.

After 40 years, 4 months and a few days, I walked out of the Luzerne County Controller's Office covered with silly string, and some tears in my eyes.  I carried out a bag of mementos, and gifts from my coworkers.  My other family!  I was leaving home.

I worked with quite a few people in 40 years.  Some I remember with awesome amounts of love and respect.  Others, not so much.  I did my best to work professionally with all of them.

I served under 13 different Controllers, most of them were elected but some were appointed:  Joe Tirpak, Tom Dugan, Ray Sobota, Dave Muroski, Tom Pisano,  Andy Reilly, Steve Flood, Marianne Petrilla, A J Martinelli, Walter Griffith, Patti Llewellyn, Walter Mitchell and Michelle Bednar.

Early on (1982) I was proud to enter public service for the City of Pittston as a member of the Redevelopment Authority.  I had completed 34 years at the table and was honored to work along side of so many community minded visionaries who helped make the City of Pittston what it is today.

I also bowled in a league at Elko and Son's in Dupont PA for the better part of 40 years.  The men I bowled with are among my best friends.   Those who struggled to score a 140 game are cheered on by those who routinely bowled 250 games.

Those that I worked with and played with during my 60 years in Wyoming Valley are cherished friends that I'll never forget.

In 2014 we purchased a retirement home in Dunnellon, Florida. (Ocala Area)  LA's dad had retired to Ocala.  So our bi-annual visits to the area made us familiar with where the roads went, and where the good restaurants were.  Forty-Five days into retirement and LA and I sold our house, packed up and moved to Dunnellon Florida.

Our new home is Spruce Creek Preserve, it's a 55+ gated community in Marion County Florida.  We have been welcomed warmly here, and have made many fast friends.  We joined the bowling league, and the also the club whose purpose is to organize events and celebrations!  How cool is that! LA co-chaired the annual St.Patrick's Day celebration this year.  There is something going on here every day.  There's an outdoor pool that's heated in the winter,  tennis courts, pickleball courts, horseshoe pits, bocce ball courts and shuffleboard courts... all meticulously maintained.

I sought and was appointed to the Historic Preservation Advisory Board for the City of Dunnellon.  I'm working with good people doing good work for the community.  Public service is very important and fulfilling for me and I needed that again after so many years on the Pittston Redevelopment Authority.

LA's Dad passed away on Good Friday.  We were humbled by the tremendous outpouring of support, concern, and caring shown to us by so many members of our Spruce Creek Preserve community.

There are no church picnic's as we know them, no tomato festival and the kielbasa is just not the same.  There's no pizza like Arcaro and Gennell's, or Cebula's, or Victory Pig.  But OMG, there's BBQ, the freshest seafood served seaside, rocket launches, incredible Cuban cuisine, and some of the nicest people on earth.

We have found another Pittston in Florida, and we are so blessed.

If you haven't read any of my previous blog posts, check out the archive links on the right side of this page.

Happy New Year......Milestones

At the time I'm writing this, 2016 is a little over 7 and a half hours old.  I've been thinking about this new year on and off for about the past 5 years.

2016 marks the 100 anniversary of the birth of my father.   That's really quite something!  I'll ask Kelly Cusey, and Tom and Patrick Moughan, my niece and nephews..... how you might feel in 2049 when you realize that your Dad was born 100 years earlier?

Lea Ann and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary in 2015. My grandparents on my mother's side would have noted their 100th wedding anniversary that year.  It's mentally staggering to me that I knew my grandparents and interacted with them 50 years ago.  Our third grade class helped honor them on their 50th wedding anniversary in 1965.  We put on a play/skit in their living room;  I was 10 years old at the time.

On January 16th I'll have been working for Luzerne County for 40 years.  I am the old man in the office.  That's not a bad thing, as my co-workers are wonderful, eager, accomplished and appreciative.  I have it good, and love my work.  My 40 years of service pales in comparison to my Sister's 50 years in the service of God with the Sisters of Christian Charity being celebrated this year.

Ten years ago when I turned 50 I fell into a bit of a funk.  The first couple of weeks after my birthday I know I was a bit depressed.  I guess I wasn't ready to be 50 years old.  My next milestone will be different!

This month I'll mark my 60th birthday, and I'm ready to jump into the next decade of life.  We're planning wholesale changes in lifestyle for this decade.  Lea Ann and I have purchased a home in Florida for our retirement.  We're using the house now as a vacation destinatiion, located very near LA's father in Ocala.

We haven't set an official retirement date, but the countdown clock has started.  I'll start collecting Social Security in two more years, and that should go a long way toward us taking the plunge.

I think it's interesting that many of my friends left Wyoming Valley fairly early in life, and have left their mark in other regions of the country, as I stayed put.

Soon it will be my turn to leave home, but not to make a mark elsewhere.  I hope that I've made my mark here.

And now 2016 is almost 9 hours old.  I'm all set for the next 365 days and 15 hours left in 2016.

Happy New Year!

Brother can you spare a dime?

My mother used to tell me that during the depression, 'bums' would frequent their home asking for food.  Those men were never turned away from her house on Carroll St.  She told me that the house must have been marked, because they all knew that there would be a sandwich for them.  My guess is that the term "Bum", had a different meaning in the 1930's than it does now.

Her family was lucky, her dad (my grampy) had a good business, there was money in plumbing.  He often worked for people who could only promise to pay him, and to their credit they did, even if it was a dime at a time.

A song written by Yip Harburg and Jay Gorney was a bit of an anthem during the Great Depression was called, "Brother can you spare a dime."  You may be surprised as I was that the lyric has some relevance to the economic atmosphere today.

They used to tell me I was building a dream, and so I followed the mob,

When there was earth to plow, or guns to bear, I was always there right on the job.

They used to tell me I was building a dream, with peace and glory ahead,

Why should I be standing in line, just waiting for bread?

Once I built a railroad, I made it run, made it race against time.

Once I built a railroad; now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once I built a tower, up to the sun, brick, and rivet, and lime;

Once I built a tower, now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?

A dime.  Today it's likely you'd see a dime on the ground, and maybe walk by it, but back then 10 cents was enough for a gallon of gasoline, or a half pound steak.  Not enough to feel your family, but maybe enough to get you through the day.

Which brings me to last week.  I was walking along a street adjoining Public Square in Wilkes Barre, and was stopped by a man in his 30's.  He told me that he decided to talk to me because I was a formidably sized man who wouldn't be afraid of him, and that when he approaches some people, they are afraid of him.  "They think I'm going to jump in their car after them or something."  He spoke to me, I guess, because I made him uncomfortable.  He certainly didn't know that I'm am teddy bear.  Or maybe he did.  

He explained that he lost most of his possessions in the September flooding.  He was a landscaper by trade, and owned his own business, but lost a lot of his equipment.  Continuing, he explained that he was insured, but his insurer was dragging his feet.  He has three kids, no job, no unemployment, and no work, cause he doesn't have the tools.  Proudly he explains, "I'm not a bum.", "I just need to feed my kids", and like my grandfather used to tell me, "Oatmeal is better than no meal."  "Man, ....can you help me feed my kids.?"

With my mind whirling, and remembering how MY grandfather would have reacted to the same plea 80 years ago, I dug into my pocket and gave him a ten.  I explained that I knew that it wasn't his answer, but perhaps it's help some.  I told him that when he got his feet underneath him again, and had an extra ten, to pass it along to the next guy who was down on his luck.

Maybe I was played, ..... but times ARE bad.  If you were approached by someone down on there luck, what would you do?  Any time is a good time to help someone that's hungry.  I made a direct donation, but I'm going to follow up with a soup kitchen or food pantry donation.

The United States Post Office is collection food for the hungry this Saturday.  (May 12, 2012)
Put out a bag of non-perishable food, if you can.  It feels good.  It help feed some kids.

Comfort in change.

I haven't made a blog entry in quite a while.  When I started this a few years ago, I was sure that I'd stay with it and publish often  I had so much to say.  It seems to me now, that even though I've had a lot of things on my mind, I lacked a tipping point item.  I needed something with which I could tie all of my thoughts together into a theme, of sorts.  Then I would be able to write it all down in this format and present it all like a complete thought, all wrapped up in a pretty little bow.  That unifying tipping point happened only a few days ago.  I hope you enjoy reading this entry.


Change.  It's inevitable that things change.  In Florida they say that "If you don't like the weather, wait a minute!" I think my Mother said it best, "Nothing lasts forever, not the good, nor the bad." Those words could bring comfort to anyone caught in the transition from the known to the unknown, from the old to the new, from the expected to the unexpected.  There is no finality to change, it is intertwined with life, and life changes every day. There is comfort in the status quo, there is comfort in familiarity, there is no comfort in Change.


Just in the last few months my employer has changed the entire way it governs itself.  There are new policies, new departments, a new hierarchy, new challenges, new forms, new procedures...etc.  The department I have been in for 36 years has been cut in two.  Employees have been laid-off, and the work load has been expanded.  The feelings of chaos is tempered by the familiarity of working with people you know, and understanding that they too are dealing with the unfamiliar and the unknown.


I am old enough to remember visiting stores on Main Street Pittston in the years before shopping malls. Borr and Casey was our pharmacy.  You could have lunch at the Sweetland Restaurant, or the Majestic, purchase clothing from Corcoran and O'Brien, and for the Holidays, Santa Claus was at Woolworths.  I saw the "Sound of Music" and "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" in the American Theater. That theater hosted vaudeville only 50 years earlier. After years of prosperity, that all changed with urban sprawl and shopping malls. Those malls, corporate pharmacies, fast food outlets, big box retailers and multiplex theaters all but obliterated our downtown businesses.  When people moved away from city hubs, businesses and services moved with them. 

New and exciting businesses are now opening in downtown Pittston, and with the presence of 'Boden' we can include an international business.  Yes, I wrote 'international business' and 'Pittston' in the same sentence, twice. New tree's, curbs, sidewalks, crosswalks, signage and lighting have increased foot traffic and are bringing the city back to life. Pittston City is becoming the place to be, again.  Older buildings are being restored, spruced up and re-purposed. The design of the marquis on the old American Theater was the template for the new marquis on the front of "The Open Space". Sometimes the more things change, the more they remain the same.    So even change, changes.

The Scranton Diocese has been changing  The need to consolidate assets was great.  Pittston City alone had seven active churches, mostly built by immigrants to provide for the diverse cultures and the native languages of its members.  Local traditions remain, but the need for individual ethnicity churches has waned.  Over the course of the last four years or so, many were closed.  I've seen three church buildings demolished in that past few years. St. John the Baptist on William Street, Pittston, St. Mark's, Inkerman and Sacred Heart Church in Plains. I thought, ...how sad, but..... "nothing lasts forever, neither the good, nor the bad."


Then, St. Mary of the Assumption Church fell to the wrecking ball last Thursday.  This wasn't sad, it was devastating! Our parishioners toiled for 149 years.  Generations!  Baptisms, Confirmations, Weddings and Funerals.  Singing in the convent garage until 4am after working the annual festival from noon.  Halloween Parties, Bingo's, Smokers, pony rides on Sand Street.  All for nothing?  There is no comfort in change.


However, all of those memories?  We get to keep those!  They won't change, although they may be embellished and exaggerated over time. but consider what might have been. You know, there is something to be said for in the finality of destroying the building.  Hear me out.  Too many other Churches are still standing, waiting their turn. Some to be sold, re-purposed as theaters, restaurants and businesses.  I couldn't imagine the St. Mary's building with a Marquis on it.  Or perhaps as a restaurant serving dinner for thirteen at a table where the main altar sat, or restrooms in place of the confessionals.  We don't have to endure the contamination or our memories by the future.


I went to St. Mary's on Saturday, parked my car and looked at the debris field.  There near the curb, next to where Mr. Bilbow gave bell-rope rides, I saw a small piece wood siding painted brown.  It was about 8 inches long and 3 1/2 inches wide.  I pick up that piece of wood and threw it in my car.  Perhaps I'll try and make a cross from it.  The church building is gone, but not MY piece, and I get to keep my memories as well.


I've become a sentimental old man. 


Sometimes you can find comfort in change.

Lunch hour at the Post Office

Earlier this week I went to the Post Office to mail a package.

I was next in line when the male mail clerk turned to the female mail clerk, and told her he didn't feel good.  He had been waiting on one customer for about ten minutes.  Perhaps he was processing a passport, whatever it was, there was a lot of paperwork in front of him.  Just before I was called to the next window, the male clerk pursed his lips, exhaled, his eyes rolled back, and he fell over backwards to the floor, pushing his chair into a metal rack behind him.  I called 911.  The customer waiting behind me leaped to an access gate, found it locked, then jumped over the gate and started to attend to the fallen clerk.  Turns out, that agile customer was an off duty fireman.

Postal employees started coming out from the back room and huddled around him, as they sat him up, he regained consciousness.  After I told 911 what was happening, where I was, my name and telephone number, I started to give them a blow by blow description of what I was observing.  Yes he was speaking, no he's not standing, and here comes a  postal clerk putting on surgical gloves as if she knows what to do.  It was almost like the radio guy who was trying to describe what was happening in front of him as the Hindenburg came down in Lakehurst, NJ.  

911 told me to tell his caregivers that an ambulance was on the way.  I did, but that was right about the time when the clerk was saying that he didn't want an ambulance.  I told that to the 911 operator.

911 told me that the ambulance was on the way, and he could refuse treatment if he wanted to when the help arrived.  The clerks eyes rolled back in his head again, his mouth agape, he had passed out again.  He looked terrible, very pale.  911 told me that help would be there momentarily.  I had done what I could.  

I went to the next open window, envelope in hand, and said, "first class", to the frazzled female mail clerk.  She replied, "he needs to get checked out!"  "He can't keep passing out like that."  I thought, Huh??  I glanced back, and the fallen clerk was again awake and talking to his caregivers.  She said, "Two dollars and forty one cents......out of ten".  "Yeah", I told her, "have a good rest of your day."  She pursed her lips, exhaled and called, "May I help who's next in line, please?" 

It was then that I heard the wail of an ambulance siren.  I met the ambulance crew at the door, and told them where to go.  I wonder now how he's doing?  With HIPPA laws as they are, I might not ever find out.  (purses lips and exhales)   

The bottom of my post office receipt says;
"Help us to Serve you better", "Tell us about your recent postal experience."  Your opinion counts! 

I think I'll pass on the survey.

One year of Solar Panel electricity - Was it worth it?

Our solar panels are installed, out of view, on the southern exposure on the roof of our house.  They've been quietly busy converting sunshine to electricity all year long.  This happens without any intervention on my part, as it's fully automatic.

So I'll bet that most do not really care about how the first year went, or wonder if it was worth the effort.  Ya know, for the longest time we were led to believe that solar panel technology was costly, inefficient, and only for super left wing tree hugger millionaires.  These solar installs were for people trying to make a statement.  They were trying to save the planet themselves.  It's still that way, right?

Wrong.  What would you think if I told you that in 365 days of operation, We saved 48% on our electric bill.  I valued that savings at $686.37.  (4894 kWh)  In addition, we earned, and sold, four Solar Renewable Energy Certificates (SREC's).  An SREC is earned by producing one Megawatt (1,000 kWh) of electricity.  We earned and sold four.  (I've actually just earned the fifth.)  Power companies buy these certificates to meet their quota of producing power from alternative sources.  The purpose of the issuance and sale of SREC's is to help to defray the cost of the investment by the solar host.  That's us.  So here is the lowdown on the last 12 months.

Selling four SREC's netted $1,164.00.  Subtract the $737.40 we paid for electricity to the utility and this equates to free electricity for the year, plus had $427.00 in our hands.  In addition, we generated $686.37 worth of electricity and end up using it ourselves.  If you add the value of the  electricity produced with the proceeds from SREC sales, the total equates to a 12.78% return on our net investment.  My 'Performance' Money Market account earns one tenth of 1 percent.  (00.1%)

Finally, according to a study done in 2009, the value of a home increases by $20.00 from every one dollar in electricity generated by Solar.  20 X $686 = $13,720.00.  Yes, it was worth it.

I'm still beaming!