In Praise of Reunions

Posted on April 26, 2011 by Jim

When I was a child growing up in the Duquesne area, the approach of summer was an exciting time. The anticipation of being able to play outside with friendsand not having to go to school was almost unbearable for me by the time May arrived. Although children managed to get outside to play during the months that school was in session, they still had to fit in homework and chores before dusk robbed them of additional outdoor playtime.

During the dead of winter in January and February, sunset ranged from 5 p.m. at
the beginning of January to 6 p.m. by the end of February. By the time kids were summoned home during the months school was still in session, it was time to
wash up for dinner, eat dinner, get a bath and perhaps watch a favorite TV show
like The Rifleman, Ozzie and Harriet or Red Skelton before being sent to bed.

As children, our “Universe” was centered on family, friends and being able to play outside, making the summer months Utopian for us. Playing to our hearts content and having only a few chores to hold us back was heaven. To be able to play outside with our friends was our singular focus as we were growing up. It’s amazing to think how drastically that focus has changed for today’s children. Computers, video games and television have managed to make children captives within their own home. The idea of having to play outside is agonizing to most kids today, quite the opposite to our way of thinking when we were small.

During the latter part of spring and throughout the summer, life shifted outdoors not only for children, but for adults as well.  Neighbors were very likely to visit, and neighborhood parents often gathered on front and back porches to enjoy a cup of coffee or a cold beer. What was meant to be a quick visit turned into a major “BS session” as my dad would call it. Casual conversations would somehow turn into spontaneous picnics as parents decided that they were enjoying themselves too much to call it a night. The moms would run off to
their kitchens and either return with what was to be their evening  meal or with something they quickly whipped up to share with the neighborhood. This allowed the kids to continue to play throughout the evening. If we were really lucky, one of the dad’s would haul out some sparklers that were left over from the 4th for us to enjoy or, there were always lightening bugs to collect!

Hunky families would often decide to hold a family picnic at some point during the summer. It would be a stretch to call them a family reunion since we were never apart as a family group. My family favored one of three places for these picnics. We either met in my Uncle Gary and Aunt Helen’s backyard, or for a bigger treat, we would secure a pavilion at Renziehausen Park inMcKeesport or venture out as far away as South Park. Those day long events were the highlight of the summer. To be able to play with all of our cousins in the wide open spaces was a priceless joy.

In August  2002, my immediate family and I had the opportunity to attend an “official” family reunion of the Puskaric/Stepetic  families from Hamilton Avenue in Duquesne. We had not gathered for anything other than the funeral of one of our parents, aunts or uncles for decades. The last time we had an actual family reunion had been in the 60’s. As with so many families, time, distance, private lives and life in general had brought us to the point that over 35 years passed since we last met for an affair that wasn’t coupled with the death
of a family member. It certainly was about time.

One of the attendees was my first cousin’s husband, Jim O’Brien. Jim is an author of considerable notoriety in the Pittsburgh area. Having authored 20 books about Pittsburgh sport teams or athletes, Jim is a celebrity as well as our family’s “superstar!”  Shortly after our reunion in 2002, Jim published an article in The Valley Mirror that beautifully describes what was a magical event for all of the hunkys in attendance. Rather than try to reinvent the wheel, allow me to share Cousin Jim’s words:

The Valley Mirror issue of August 22, 2002

Cousins Come Together For  Reunion On Idyllic Farm

A picture is supposed to be worth a thousand words.  It was, indeed,  when my wife’s cousins held a reunion last Saturday.

Everyone brought family photographs, but one in particular sparked the most conversation.  It was one of Kathie and five of her cousins sitting alongside each other on a small wall.  Most of them were two years old at the time, one about four, the other  five.  They looked like Spanky McFarland  and Alfalfa and “Our Gang.”

Most of them hadn’t seen each other since a funeral, and some hadn’t seen each other in as many as 15 or 20 years.  Most of them are in their late  50s or early 60s now, but for one day they were all kids again.

Once upon a time, they used to see each other every weekend, after church, and during holidays, especially Christmas, and at family picnics.  They were so close when they were growing up in places like Kennywood, West Mifflin,  Munhall, Duquesne, McKeesport and North Versailles.

Now they came from as far  away as New Mexico and North Carolina, Virginia and Maryland, and some from White Oak, Upper St. Clair and Robinson Township.

They gathered on a mostly  sunny day on an idyllic 50-acre farm in West Sunbury, just above Butler.  The farm is owned by Joanne and Ken  Matthews.  She was Joanne Carr when she
grew up in Duquesne.  Her dad, Sam Carr, was well known in the community.  He looked after all the ball fields.  Now
she and her husband and their kids looked after farm fields.   Their farm is better maintained than most backyard gardens.

It took an hour and a half to drive there.  It was a trip back in time, to the ’50s and ’60s, and no one showed their AARP membership cards when they opened their wallets to show more family photos.

The corn and tomatoes and peppers and herbs came fresh from their fields and the food was terrific.  So was the IC Light and Rolling Rock  so everybody would remember their roots.  Before I left home, I pumped up a pro-model  football and grabbed a baseball and some gloves.  I thought we could at least pass the football around, or play pitch-and-catch with the baseball.  But no one touched them.

I was three days away from my 60th birthday and trying to fend off getting old by playing ball.  Everyone, however, was content to sit around and pass around pictures and stories, identifying whoever wasn’t  familiar to someone.

For the spouses, it was a chance to learn more about the family they had joined.  Kathie’s mother, Barbara Churchman, kept in
close touch with all her nieces and nephews through the years.  She was good about that.  She would have celebrated her 85th
birthday last Sunday.  She would have been proud to know that Kathie had been the catalyst for this reunion, and that  her son, Harvey Churchman Jr., was there, too.  Kathie was joined by Joanne Matthews and Betty Jane Peckman in putting this gathering together.

Kathie lost her mother last July and her father in December.  It was the most difficult year in Kathie’s life. Her parents both died at Asbury Heights, an assisted care residence in Mt. Lebanon.  These were all cousins on her mother’s side of the family.

Everyone at the reunion remembered their own parents; most of them have died as well.  And they remembered favorite aunts and uncles.  They remembered Christmases past, and family folklore.  They caught their cousins up to date with what their families were doing.

Among those in attendance at the reunion were Louis and Judy Goldman and her service dog Lucie from White Oak; Harvey and Diane Churchman of Clayton, N.C. (he grew up in White Oak and she, as Diane Thomas, grew up in Munhall); Karla and Paula Goldman (Smith) of Vienna, Va., who  grew up in West
Mifflin; Francis Ann Puskaric Trimble of North Versailles; Bobbi Carr of Duquesne and now Robinson Towmship; Betty Jane and Bob Peckman, both of Duquesne and now Avalon; Tim Stepetic of Duquesne and now Albuquerque, N.M.; Jim and Judy Volk and their daughters, Abby and Megan (Jim grew up in West Mifflin and the family now lives in Ocean City, Md.)

I have always enjoyed my wife’s family reunions more than some members of their family.  I envied them their closeness.  I see my cousins when I am doing book-signings at South Hills Village and Century III Mall.  When I was a kid, I don’t remember us ever visiting anyone who was not a relative.
But my family hasn’t had a reunion in over 30 years.

It seemed like a lifetime, to this impatient photographer anyhow, as we tried to recreate that photo of the six cousins on the wall at this farm near Butler.  Every one sat in the same position, from left to right, and took their cues from the childhood photo to pose in a certain way, and the cameras kept clicking.  The original picture was taken on Hamilton Avenue in Duquesne, behind one of the family homes.

If there’s anything we all ought to have learned at this gathering it should be the importance of family pictures.  Most of our memories are not of actual events, but more so of the photos that preserve those events.

This was a good idea.  Having a family reunion like this is well
worth the effort.

John Barrymore once said “A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams.” This year, I think each one of us needs to dream BIG and make an effort to try to reconnect with family and childhood friends. This blog has provided me with that opportunity,  and the joy it has given me is priceless. To be able to connect with family via a reunion provides the “perfect storm” to rekindle relationships. If there is ANY chance you can make it happen, I urge you, DO IT! If it’s impossible to go the reunion route, visit, pick-up the
phone, write or email, but somehow, reconnect.

This summer, what will hopefully be a LARGE group of former classmates and childhood friends will be reconnecting at a BIRTHDAY BASH in Kennywood Park. This is for the entire Duquesne High School Class of 1969 who will be turning the big 60 this year, myself included. If you are a member of the Class of ’69 or know someone who is, check out the link below and just DO IT!! Life is short! Live to dream, not to regret!

DUQUESNE HIGH SCHOOL CLASS OF 1969
BIRTHDAY BASH!

The Class of ’69 is having a birthday bash at Kennywood on June 11, 2011. This is the year the entire class is turning (gulp) 60! This ought to be a lot of fun. See Happy Birthday DHS Class of 69 on Facebook for details. Many of us worked at Kennywood as our first job. Come on by and see who shows up! For more information or to sign up, email Carmella Pucci at carmellapucci@msn.com!

Lastly, my hunky pride and family pride force me to brag a little on my cousin Jim O’Brien. Now that you’ve read his story about our family reunion, read more about Jim and the memory provoking books he has written about profession sports in Pittsburgh!

About Jim O’Brien

Jim O’Brien is proud to be the only Pittsburgher ever named to the U.S. Basketball Writers Hall of Fame. He was honored at the NCAA Final Four Basketball Tournament in New Orleans in April of 2003.

O’Brien has also won the Bob Prince Award for his contributions to journalism, the Vectors’ David L. Lawrence Award for promoting Pittsburgh through his books, and was inducted into the Western Chapter of the Pennsylvania Sports Hall of Fame. He was honored as a “Legend” by the Pittsburgh Chapter of the Italian American Sports Hall of Fame.

O’Brien grew up in Hazelwood at the southeast end of Pittsburgh and is a graduate of Taylor Allderdice High School (1960) and the University of Pittsburgh (1964), with a degree in English. Currently Jim has written his 18th book in 18 years, his 20th about Pittsburgh and 23nd altogether. He has been a sportswriter with The Philadelphia Evening Bulletin, The Miami News, The New York Post and The Pittsburgh Press, a contributing columnist to The Sporting News, The Football News, Basketball Times and Basketball News.

He continues to write a weekly column for The Valley Mirror. He was the founding editor and continued to contribute to Street & Smith’s Basketball Yearbook for 37 years (1970-2007). He is a member of the champions committee advisory board for the Western Pennsylvania Sports Museum of the Heinz History Center. He has been married to Kathleen Churchman O’Brien for 41 years, and they have two daughters, Dr. Sarah O’Brien-Zirwas, and Rebecca O’Brien. They are the proud grandparents of Margaret and Susannah Zirwas. Jim and Kathie reside in Upper St. Clair, a suburb just south of Pittsburgh.

Click here to connect to Jim’s website! If you
want to stroll down the memory lane of Pittsburgh sports, check it out.

 

 

Posted in My Hunky Family, Parents | 6 Comments

Strolling Through Kennywood’s Memory Lane

Posted on April 23, 2011 by Jim

One of the many wonderful things about growing up in Duquesne was having Kennywood in our backyard. I’ve  lived in many different parts of the country and have met many people who grew up in the Pittsburgh area. If in the course of conversation we discovered that we both had grown up in the Pittsburgh area, we would always need to define “where exactly” in Pittsburgh. To this day, I always say I grew up about 10 minutes from Kennywood Park. Without fail, those words to any Pittsburgher will immediately bring a smile to their face.

As passionate and proud that I am about being a Duquesne Hunky, the same holds true for being a Kennywood aficionado. As a child and even now, as an adult, I still feel that Kennywood is one of the most delightful places in the U.S. There’s something magical that happens to me when I enter the park. There is sensory overload immediately upon entering. Although the Turnpike has made way for Kennywood’s newest coaster, Sky Rocket, that familiar “clacking” sound of the Turnpike Model-Ts would greet you immediately up entering. The Turnpike ride came into existence in 1966, but I’m sure many of you remember being greeted by  “Sally” at the Laff-in-the-Dark. Sally was the rather “big boned” animated hysterically laughing woman who was encased behind glass at the front of the Laff-In-The-Dark ride. I remember that when I was still Kiddieland age and size, she use to scare the “bejesus” out of me. I remember having a dream as a child that she escaped from her glass case and would chase me around Kennywood. Once I grew to Howdy Doody size, I conquered my fear and confidently strode past Sal and onto the ride.

Just beyond the Laff-in-the-Dark was the Old Mill. I have been researching the ride history of Kennywood and learned that the Old Mill was built over 110 years ago in 1901! The Old Mill has been rethemed several times since it first arrived in Kennywood. The first time it was converted was in 1906 when it became the Fairyland Floats. Its next metamorphosis occured when it was transformed into the Panama Canal in 1914, the same year the actual Panama Canal was opened. In 1956 it became the “Around the World Boat Ride” and remained as such until 1974 when it became “Hard Headed Harrold’s Horrendously Humorous Haunted Hideaway.” In 2004, Kennywood’s Grand Old Lady was once again changed and became “Garfield’s Nightmare!” According to the Kennywood Connection, the Old Mill might be changing once again in the near future. Regardless of the name, this ride has always been the ideal place for “making out” and was aptly nicknamed “The Tunnel of Love.” During the day, families rode into the Old Mill together, but by nightfall, the climate of the tunnel changed and young loves flocked to the ride to catch a few private moments. If those walls could only talk!!

From what I remember, just beyond the Old Mill stood a carnival game of chance. If I’m not mistaken, the object of the game was to knock down a stack of milk bottles with a baseball. Husbands, dads and boyfriends would plunk down their coins for a chance to win a prize. Although the prizes are now primarily stuffed animals, back when I was a kid, the prize was usually one of those glittery chalk statues. There were horses, sailor girls and other colorful choices depending on how well you did at knocking down the bottles. Unfortunately on that particular game, I never really was able to win much above some consolation prize of a whistle or some other cheap trinket.

Directly across from the milk bottle game was a large restroom. Now, one would not normally talk about “facilities” as a particularly memorable landmark, but this case is different. The restrooms had a large front porch, complete with rocking chairs. In addition, along the “lawn” at the front of the structure, wooden benches were lined up as a respite for weary parents and elderly patrons of the park. I remember this spot since it was where my mom would always wait as my brother and I used up any remaining tickets on the surrounding rides at the end of the day. We would run off to a nearby attraction and then return to Mom after we had ridden it. She’d parcel out just enough tickets for our next ride and continue to do so until we had finally exhausted all of the tickets or ourselves. At that point, we would always grab a box of popcorn from the concession stand and head home.

To the left of the milk bottle game stood one of my favorite spots as a child, The Penny Arcade. The penny arcade would hold my attention for the longest time. Although some attractions throughout Kennywood haven’t changed to any great degree since I was a kid, the Penny Arcade is almost unrecognizable today versus the pre-video game era. I would haunt the Penny Arcade with a pocketful of coins burning a hole in my pocket. Virtually every machine was mechanical, relying on gears, cogs, wheels, chains and our own strength in order to operate. Nothing was electronic as it is today, but it was none the less dazzling with the multitude of brightly colored and flashing incandescent bulbs on every game and outlining the walls and ceilings of the arcade itself.

There were so many fascinating machines that I was ready to drop my pennies into. Although I grew up with TV and Cinemascope movies, I would find the old nickelodeons mesmerizing. I’d drop my penny and slowly turn the crank to flip through the Kinescope photographs that simulated motion. There were mechanical Fortune Tellers to forecast your future, but truthfully, they always wore head scarves and reminded me more of a “stutta-bubba” wearing a babushka than a mysterious gypsy. I recall machines where I was able to drop two cents and get a photo postcard of a movie star. Granted, the assortment of stars was rather dated, but none-the-less, they were fun to collect. There was a machine that you could get a “lucky horseshoe” that had a penny in the middle of it and God knows, one could never have enough of those. An assortment of pinball machines dotted the arcade and one whole wall was devoted to skeeball. I remember there were machines that were even able to measure your “love level” and your “mood” using a series of lights. I guess it was like a vintage mood ring. When I think back, the games and machines in the penny arcade in the 50’s were about as “carney” and “hokey” as they could get. However, in masse, they created a fantasyland for this Duquesne Hunky. As a wee one, who was just about to leave  Kiddieland behind forever, to be able to enjoy the adventures the arcade had to offer was irresistible.

My recollections of Kiddieland are somewhat vague. Since I was dependent on my parents for trips to Kennywood, I didn’t know Kiddieland that well since we didn’t visit often. Usually, we only visited three or four times each summer; once for the Duquesne Catholic School Picnic, then there was Slovak Day, Croatian Day and finally, Fall Fantasy at the close of the season. There are three rides in Kiddieland that I remember enjoying. I used to love those little hand cranked cars that moved around the track by hand pedaling them. There was also the Kiddie Old Mill that had little swan boats that my Mom and I would get into and drift through different Nursery Rhyme scenes. Lastly, I vaguely recall a live pony ride. It was at the very back of Kiddieland near the pavilions. I don’t remember a lot of details about the ponies, but I am certain that the “ride” existed. The one ride that I can’t recall if it was in Kiddieland or not was the “Little Dipper.” I recall having to drum-up an incredible amount of courage to ride this attraction, but once I did, I was hooked.

As summer nears and the season rolls on, I’m definitely planning on posting quite a bit more about Kennywood. From the swimming pool to the merry-go-round, from the rowboats to the circus acts, I plan on hitting all the highlights! As always, we’d love to hear your memories, so please…. comment away! In closing, please enjoy Kennywood’s traditional closing song since 1941. It was recorded by Yvonne King and the Alvino Rey Orchastra and is titled approriately, “Nighty Night!”……..

Posted in Kennywood, Parents, Summertime | 9 Comments

Eastertime Remembered

Posted on April 19, 2011 by Jim

The countdown to Easter Sunday has begun. Somehow, the excitement of this week was more evident as I was growing up than it is now.  Perhaps it was the excitement of being a child and anticipating a visit from the Eastern Bunny.  Perhaps it was the progression through Holy Week as a student at Holy Name. Whatever added to the excitement of the Easter Season, as a child, I felt it in abundance.

It wasn’t until I was looking through early issues of The Duquesne Times at the Mifflin Township Historical Society that I remembered a part of the Easter season that I always got excited about. I remember always participating in The Duquesne Times Easter Coloring Contest whenever it was run. I don’t remember ever winning, but I know I gave it a good try. If I didn’t know better, I would swear that the contest was sponsored by the local dentists since the prizes were always those 1 pound fruit and nut chocolate Easter eggs.

Since I was an altar boy at Holy Name, during Holy Week, I often was excused from class in order to serve at whatever Easter Rite would be happening. I remember carrying one of the candles that accompanied the crucifix as we moved in unison from each Station of the Cross. It seemed like forever until I was old enough to be trusted to carry the crucifix. I think I was in 5th or 6th grade before that rite of passage occurred. I remember how the good sisters struck fear in our hearts for the sanctity of the hours of Noon until 3 p.m. on Good Friday. I remember how I would watch the sky during that timeframe to see if it darkened in remembrance of the hours when Jesus hung on the cross and died. To this day, I still honor  those special hours in silence and reverence. “Old habits die hard.”  When you think of it, there is irony in that statement as it pertains to the good sisters.

Aside from the very busy schedule I kept during Holy Week, there were also all types of preparations going on at home as well. The biggest preparation event would be dying the Easter Eggs! It’s funny how certain smells are associated with different events in your life. The smell of vinegar immediately makes me think of Easter. Since vinegar had to be added to active the Paas Easter Egg Dye pellets, the sensory association is understandable. My mother would prepared at least 3 or 4 dozen hard boiled eggs to be dyed. I swear that she never cracked an egg when she boiled them. She would watch the pot so intently while they cooked, they wouldn’t dare to crack! Once the perfect amount of time had elapsed, Mom would drain the boiling water and begin rinsing off the eggs to stop the cooking process and to keep the yolks from turning that grayish color on the outside. It always seemed to work as she managed to prepared the perfect hard boiled egg each time.

Now, it may seem that I am dwelling on this hard boiled issue, however I do have a very good reason. It is a misconception to think that every hunky mom has an innate ability to prepare any type of meal and have it turn out perfect. Not the case, I assure you! The proof came out each Easter as we all exchanged Easter eggs with each of our relatives. As we would gather at our grandparents on Easter Sunday, we would bring along eggs for each aunt, uncle and cousin. I have always loved hard boiled eggs and looked forward to Eastertime to enjoy them to my heart’s content. The concern about cholesterol had not surfaced, so we used to eat them whenever we wanted. After the eggs were exchanged came the defining moment. I recall cracking the colorful eggs and being able to easily peel off the shell with ease. That would elevate that particular aunt into the “good cook” category in my mind. Then there were those eggs that required you pick off the cracked shell in tiny pieces until the egg was finally ready to eat. It was like an archeological dig as we picked away trying to unearth the egg. It took forever in many cases, but always from the same aunts. Let me just call them the “culinary challenged.”

Back to the egg dying. When the time actually came for us to begin dying the eggs, Mom would completely cover the kitchen table with layers and layers of newspaper. She would line up a row of teacups to hold the various colors of dye. My brother and I would drop the dye pellets into each of the cups after which Mom would carefully measure a spoonful of vinegar into the cup, covering the tablet. Nothing much occurred at that point until she began pouring cups of boiling water into the cups. Before we began to dunk the eggs, we would first write the name of the family member who would receive the egg on the shell. Mom would usually do this since it was a wax crayon and the egg was very hot. After identifying the eggs by name, we would perch each of them of the wire egg holder and begin to dye each one. We would get creative as we could by combining colors, etc. The big thrill would come when Mom would add at spoonful of cooking oil to each cup after we had all of the solid colored eggs we wanted. By adding the oil, the dye would only adhere to parts of the shell, producing a tie-dyed effect when all was said and done. Of course, we would have to pick our favorite after we were done, and this egg would be the last one we would consume and would NEVER be exchanged with relatives.

As I look back at old family photos taken on Easter, it was clear that it was a VERY special day in our hunky family. Just like Judy Garland and Fred Astaire walking down the avenue in the 1948 movie “Easter Parade,” the entire family would dress to the nines on that special day. Each Easter we would have to line up and be photographed as a group. Of course, the most memorable pictures were the candid shots of the kids enjoying their Easter treats.

I vaguely remember hearing about Easter in the “old country.” I did a bit of research and thought you might enjoy reading how our ancestors celebrated this special holiday. In addition, just to help you get into the mood, enjoy the trailer from Easter Parade. Just click on the picture below.

http://swedanmar.blogspot.com/2007/04/easter-traditions-in-croatia.html

Friday, April 06, 2007

Easter Traditions in Croatia

Just in case you’re curious, here are some of Croatia’s Easter traditions….

The Holy Week is called the Big Week (“Veliki tjedan”) in Croatia. On Palm Sunday (“Cvjetnica”), Croatians traditionally go to church and take a small olive twig to be blessed. On Friday, different kinds of fish are eaten. Saturday is the customary day to dye eggs. Easter Sunday involves going to the early morning mass with small baskets filled with food to be blessed; eating a breakfast of ham, eggs, grated horse radish, spring onion and home-made bread; and a dinner of turkey. Little children might also get candy from the Easter Bunny. Easter Monday is for visiting relatives.

One of the oldest traditions is making “klepetaljke” and “cegrtaljke” (very similar to rattles and clappers), particularly popular in central Dalmatia and the Konavle region. Those on the island of Krk are especially interesting: metal plates that hang at the end of a 12 inch board produce strong sounds when the device is shaken. In other regions, “klepetaljke” were made differently: small wheels were attached to wooden boards and connected to metal sprockets; the whole device made a rattling noise when pulled.

People used to believe that wine transformed into blood in the body and made people stronger and healthier, and therefore drank it as much as possible for Easter. Documents from the island of Brac show that housewives used to prepare, among other dishes, cod and cabbage — food that makes people thirsty so that they could drink as much as possible.

Since palms can rarely be found on the Adriatic, people mostly use olive or rosemary branches and flowers. Nevertheless, chronicles from the city of Split show that people used to gather on Easter at the only palm tree in the city, located in the garden of a certain inhabitant, in order to collect palm branches. The inhabitants of Brac used to ship palm branches from the island of Vis, where palm trees can be found in abundance, and distribute them to the islanders. The branches were decorated with crosses or wreaths made of ribbons and flowers. This skill was so respected that one decorated branch could be exchanged for Easter bread and 20 colorfully decorated eggs. On the island of Korcula and in the surroundings of Sibenik, olive branches were woven into plaits, while branches were woven into wreaths with crosses in Istria.

Sweet bread (sirnica) is another Easter tradition in Croatia. Made with lots of eggs and sugar, rosewater or orange peel is also added for a sweet smell. Often people dip this sweet bread into a sweet wine called “prosec” to make it taste better. One type of sirnica looks like a baby, and the head is created by a decorated egg. It’s called “garitula.”

Coloring and decorating Easter eggs, called “pisanice” (“to write”), is among the oldest Croatian Easter traditions. There are several ways of decorating Easter eggs. The best known method is to use hot liquid wax with the help of pencil-like instruments. After coloring, the wax is removed, revealing the splendid decorations. Before artificial coloring, eggs were colored by being boiled in water with onions, walnuts, roots and herbs. In order to get their shine they were polished with oil before being placed in the basket. Another method of decorating, popular in continental Croatia, was to use a knife, as well as threads of silk and wool, while the third method was to use formic acid. Eggs in the southern part of Croatia are traditionally colored in red and have white star or rosette shaped decorations, while decorations such as pine branches, flowers, circles and spirals are more common in other parts of the country.

Finally, there is one more custom related to Easter eggs – the so-called “tuca” (egg fight). Everyone would choose an egg from the basket and would hit it against their adversary’s egg. The winner would be the person whose egg remained intact throughout the “fight.”

Written by Marla

http://blog.javorek.net/czech-slovak-easter-customs-yes-we-really-beat-girls/

Czech & Slovak Easter Customs: Yes, We Really Beat Girls!

Today I have met many people, who couldn’t believe me my stories about Czech and Slovak Easter customs, especially when I said we beat girls. But let’s start from the beginning, there are more surviving pagan customs in our brother countries. The most popular one is definitely the colouring and decorating of eggs.

Decoration of eggs

Professionals in the art of egg-decorating can turn eggs into genuine works of art, decorating them with straw, wax or bobbin lace. They usually use egg shells from which the raw yolk is blown through two opposite holes poked in the top and bottom. Normal people, especially families with children, prefer to decorate hard-boiled eggs, which are less fragile. The most common method of decorating is dying the eggs with onion skins, which makes their colour deep brown. During the communist days, it was also common to use fabric dye. Nowadays, children have a vast variety of colours and stickers to choose from.

Whipping of women and dousing them with water

Another popular pagan tradition surviving to these days is the whipping of women and girls. The whip or „pomlázka“ is braided from three or more willow rods. Actually, in every region of our two states it’s called in a different way – „švihačka“, „mrskačka“, „čagan“, „karabina“, „korbáč“, „tatar“, „žíla“… Pagan Slavs believed that whipping brought good luck, wealth and a rich harvest for the whole year. Its original purpose and symbolic meaning is to chase away illness and bad spirits and to bring health and youth for the rest of the year to everyone who is whipped with the young pussywillow twigs. B.oys would whip girls lightly on the legs and possibly douse them with water.

Easter carols and Christian traditions

Traditional whipping should be accompanied by the singing of Easter carols. Unlike Christmas carols, they are not that well-known. Carolling is also accompanied by the sound of the clapper and rattle, an activity definitely more enjoyed by children than by their parents. According to the Christian tradition, all the bells are rung on Green Thursday and then they are silenced until White Saturday. Meanwhile, their toll is replaced by the clapper and rattle.

Eggs, candy, lamb cake and shots of home brew

Girls and women present the carollers with eggs, the pagan symbol of life and fertility. But apart from eggs – real and chocolate ones, Easter is also associated with other foods, mainly with lamb. These days lamb is rarely eaten in the Czech Republic but it still appears on Easter tables – in the form of a cake – with eyes made of raisins or cloves and a green twig in its mouth… It’s also very usual to present whipping men by shots of home brew.

Posted in Church and School - Holy Name, Food and Restaurants, Holidays - Non-Christmas and New Years, My Hunky Family, Springtime, Stores and Businesses | 2 Comments

Sure Signs of Springtime in Duquesne

Posted on April 16, 2011 by Jim

Springtime has finally arrived and evidence of it was everywhere when I visited Duquesne last week.  There is a display that has become a Springtime tradition in the area that wasn’t even in existence when we were growing up. While I was visiting, I treated myself to lunch at Jim’s Hot Dogs on Skyline Drive in West Mifflin. As I sat in my car enjoying two of the fantastic memory provoking hot dogs, I remembered about an Easter display that my kids would always enjoy when we visited during the Spring. Just a bit down Jim’s Hot Dogs on Skyline Drive towards Dravosburg, an Easter enthusiast has taken seasonal décor to a whole different level. I really don’t need to try to describe the impact since sometimes a picture is really work a thousand words and/or rabbits!

 

I began to think about other signs of Springtime in Duquesne and one obvious clue was that Kennywood was open! OK, stop snickering! I know that “Kennywood’s open” was and still is a local idiom. So before you begin to imagine half of the population of Duquesne running around with their fly down, let me clarify! I have looked through many issues of The Duquesne Times from the month of April. As far back as the 1930’s, Kennywood started their season with weekend openings. It was usually not until the beginning of May that the park would be open seven days a week. I was amazed at how much coverage Kennywood would get in local papers. Any event that occurred, no matter how trivial, made the paper. As we trek closer and closer to summer, I will be sure to include examples of these articles for your amusement.  For instance, in 1956, The Duquesne Times announce the 59th Year opening of Kennywood and the “newest sensation” in rides. By the way, I clearly remember this ride and how I convinced Fr. Turner from Holy Name to ride it with me one time. This was quite an interesting experience especially when he departed the caged seat after the ride and proceeded to throw-up! I think that transgression cost me at least 5 Our Fathers and 5 Hail Marys at confession!

 

As I looked through the photographic gems that I garnered at the Historical Society, one in particular still evoked the same dread that I experienced in my youth. Let me explain. One of the most exciting aspects of living in the Duquesne area was its proximity to Kennywood. While other kids in Western Pennsylvania were only able to enjoy the park only once or twice each summer, WE were able to enjoy it whenever we would like. Although it was not until I go older that I increased the frequency of park visits, even as a child, my parents would indulge us whenever we begged enough.

 

By the time I was 12 years old, my mom allowed me to visit some of my Duquesne Place friends during the summer. Part of the time visiting was spent at Kennywood. Back then, admission was free and the only cost was if we decided to ride. The scariest part of Kennywood trips from Duquesne Place was crossing the old bridge. I would have sworn it was constructed of wood, but Jim Hartman from the Mifflin Township Historical Society informed me that it was metal construction. I just remember how tense we all were as we walk across that bridge! As cars and trucks passed, you could feel the bridge shake under your feet. I often thought that the bridge was going to fall apart and we were going to fall into the underlying gorge! We all quickly learned that the best way to cross the bridge was to run like hell from the Duquesne to West Mifflin side! When we got even smarter, we learned that we could cross into West Mifflin from Clonmel Street and avoid any bridge altogether!

I have so many more good memories, articles and stories about Kennywood to write about as we head into the Summer months. Please be sure to check back and most importantly, please, please, please……. Share your stories with us as well!

Posted in Holidays - Non-Christmas and New Years, Kennywood, Springtime | 7 Comments

Home Again – Let the Good Times Roll!

Posted on April 13, 2011 by Jim

Well, I have made it home! I had a wonderful trip to Duquesne and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Between visits with my family, meeting new friends, reconnecting with old friends, photographing old haunts as well as new views AND finally, meeting with Jim Hartman at the Mifflin Township Historical Society, my 5 days were quite jammed!

My trip was not without its dramas. It seems nothing that I do ever is! I had spent the entire day on Friday at the Mifflin Township Historical Society gathering data and photos that I thought that you might enjoy. I had come totally equipped for the task by bringing an external hard drive storage apparatus for my computer. By the end of the day, and with Jim Hartman’s help, I had managed to obtain an incredible amount of information. I was so excited as I began to sift through all of the information later that evening.

After only 30 minutes or so, I heard a thud and realized that I had knocked my external hard drive off of the table it was resting on. Fortunately, when I picked it up and check to see if it was still working, I was relieved that no damage had occurred. All went well after that for about five minutes. At that time, I heard that familiar thud once again. Yes, not content for only being a klutz the first time, I managed to knock the external hard drive that contained all of the information from the Historical Society, off of the same darn table yet one more time! Expecting the same results as the first time it occurred, I merely placed it back on the table and went back to my computer, fully expecting nothing to be damaged. WRONG! This time I wasn’t as fortunate. It appeared that I had managed to damage the unit AND was not longer able to retrieve ANY of the files off of the drive!

In an effort to correct the problem, I began to plug and unplug the unit from my computer… no luck, still dead. I then tried to restart the unit itself… no luck, still dead! I began to restart my computer several times….again, no luck! Panic had set in by that time and I decided to take of course of repair that desperate men and hunkies have used for years…. I began to furiously shake the unit! I guess I thought that this would somehow awake the sleeping drive…… no luck. Since that approach didn’t work, I decided that a mere shaking was too subtle. It was time for the big guns! I ever so gently began to nudge the unit toward the edge of the table until it teetered on the end and plummeted to the floor, landing with yet another thud. You see, in my mind, I felt the gods would be with me and would somehow reverse the problem and self-correct the problem. In my panicked state-of-mind, this last attempt made total sense. But alas, it didn’t solve the problem. I was defeated. Fortunately, Jim Hartman came to my rescue and recopied the files to a new device for me and I was good to go by Monday afternoon. THANK YOU JIM!

This whole incident reminded me of the many “gifts” that are innate to hunkys versus the rest of the world. Allow me to elaborate:

    • Hunkys can make soup out of anything! Also, they have never met a soup they didn’t like. I remember my grandmother always had a pot of soup on the stove. Brimming with vegetables and wonderful flavor. My dad was able to make the most interesting soups. Once on a family vacation, he managed to create a hamburger and hot dog soup! We were vacationing with our own family of 4, but also with my grandfather, 3 aunts, 1 uncle and 5 cousins. In retrospect, his ability to create and then stretch the concoction to feed everyone was like the miracle of the loaves and fishes.
    • Hunky moms firmly believe in the theory of “don’t go empty-handed.” Early in life, my mom told me never to climb the steps to the second floor of our house without taking something up with me. It could be a load of laundry she had just finished, some toy I had brought down from my room or anything that might be waiting for a “lift” at the bottom of the steps. This early discipline was drilled into my head at a very early age.
    • I firmly believe that the “never go empty-handed” philosophy was the root of yet another hunky “gift” that I continue to exhibit to this day. I loving call this the “Hunky Handful.” As I continued to carry items up the steps of our home throughout my childhood, I honed my skills at carrying more and more items on each trip. My father was the same way. To this day, I would rather try to carry everything in one trip rather than make several trips up and down the steps. What can I say…. “It’s a gift!”

Speaking of a gift…… as I continue to sort through all of the treasures I acquired from the Mifflin Township Historical Society, I thought it appropriate to whet your appetite with a few tasty tidbits of Duquesne memorabilia. They are unrelated, but still great to see and read…

This picture is for Barry Long. Barry, I wasn’t able top find a picture of the fountain when it was in City Park, but I think this is the monument when it first stood at the top of Library Place circa 1915.

A moment in time captured in 1960. This view was taken from N. 1st St. facing toward S. 1st St. I don’t recall Sally Fashions in this location, but I remember Isaly’s. Johnston the Florist (not shown) was to the left of Isaly’s on the corner of S. 1st and Grant.

Here are a few snips from The Duquesne Times. As I continue with future posts, I will always try to include a few to provoke a few memories…….

Posted in Duquesne History, Food and Restaurants, Historic Events, Sports, Springtime, Visits to Duquesne | 4 Comments

Finding Dorothy’s Slippers

Posted on April 10, 2011 by Jim

Just to catch you up on what has been happening these past two days, I decided to do a quick post about my adventures thus far …..

Friday really seemed that I had  found the Emerald City, complete with Dorothy’s ruby slippers. I spent the day visiting the Mifflin Township Historical Societyin the  company of Jim Hartman, President of the Society.

I met Jim at the local McDonald’s for coffee that morning. We sat and talked about “all things historical” and got to know one another. We sat in the midst of the morning “regulars” at that McDonalds, and I was introduced to each one. As Jim and I continued to talk, one of the regulars placed two homebaked “goodies” in front of us to enjoy. She explained that her friend who was sitting with her (another regular), had baked them that morning and wanted to share them with us. You know, that just doesn’t happen anymore. Once this occured, I knew I was “home” and “the village” was still there to care for one another.

After talking for an hour or so, Jim and I departed for the Historical Society’s Office and Reference Room which is located across from the Allegheny County Airport on Lebanon Church Road in the West Mifflin Borough Building. The Society chose this space since it was a central location for all of the communities it embraces on a historical basis. The communities included are:

As Jim explained, Allegheny County was carved from Westmoreland and Washington counties in 1788. At that time seven townships were created in Allegheny County;  Elizabeth Township, Mifflin Township, Moon Township, Pitt Township, Plum Township, St. Clair Township and Versailles Township. Within each “Township” communities were formed and seperate towns, villages and boroughs were incorporated. Once Jim explained this to me, I completely understood that the “Mifflin Township” Historical Society did NOT just archive historical data for the West Mifflin area, but rather for ALL the communities that are part of the original area known as Mifflin Township in 1788.

So, back to my day and my visit. When I entered the Society’s Office and Reading Room, my eyes grew wide, I drew a deep breath and uttered the most awe inspired “Oh my God” I could muster. The best way to describe how I felt, would be if you could imagine your mom or dad handing you a $20 bill as a child, and you being told to go and treat yourself to whatever you would like from either Murphy’s 5&10 Store or Sidneys Candy Store at the corner of 5th and Kennedy!! There were literally shelf after shelf of old documents, maps, yearbooks, school books, etc. that lay before me. Aside from the immediately tangible items, what I found most exciting were the 3 or 4 data banks that were available. Newspapers, photographs, directories and countless other pieces of documentation have been meticulously archived by Jim and Society members into PDF and other types of computer files. Truely, being able to access this information was very much like clicking the heels of Dorothy’s slippers together and being transported home!

I have so much to share with you now and I cannot wait to take you on the journey back to our youth. I would be remise if I didn’t put in a plug for Jim and the Historical Society. Without question, every penny contributed to the Society by becoming a member is worth it. It pays for the equipment, the materials, the website and everything that is needed to maintain this wonderful “memory bank.” The cost to join the Society as a non-voting member is a mere $17.00 a year if you are 62 years of age or older; $20.00 if you are under 62 years old. To read more and understand membership options more, CLICK HERE!

I spent the greater part of the day at the Historical Society, but I did manage to venture out and photograph some familiar places throughout Duquesne. For instance:

Gallaghers Pharmacy – Now Vacant

View of South First and Grant

Schinks Hardware

Stay tuned for more my friends. There is a lot more coming you way!!

Posted in Duquesne History, Duquesne's Special Citizens, Visits to Duquesne | 3 Comments

The Fun Begins

Posted on April 8, 2011 by Jim

Well, I made it to the Emerald City! It was a long drive, over 8 1/2 hours. I had a relaxing break when I stopped at Lookout Point atop of Mt. Ararat in the Allegheny Mountains. This as the spot where the Grand View Hotel once stood. At an elevation of 2464 ft., the view was quite spectacular! There are just vague “relics” remaining of the hotel. The walls have crumbled but the foundation piers still provide a rough idea of where the building jutted out from the mountainside. Just west of where I stopped, I was mesmerized by the sight of a “wind farm” that had sprung up on both sides of Rt. 30. Although one might be immediately upset about the intrusion of technology to the pristine mountaintops, those thoughts were quickly dispelled. What an ideal place to help to save the planet. The actual structures were beautiful. The blades weren’t frantically whirling at top speed, but rather very slowly turning as they captured the wind and converted it into needed energy.

I am posting a few shots that I took from Grand View as well as one of the wind farm. I am off to meet with Jim Hartman from the Mifflin Historical Society. I hope to find some treasured photos from Duquesne that I’ll share with you in future posts. I can’t wait to see what I can dig up. By the way, I awoke this morning to KDKA news reporting that there had been another murder in Duquesne last night. This time at the “Sportsman Bar” on Crawford Ave.  God help me. Wish me luck!

Posted in Visits to Duquesne | 2 Comments

Following the Yellow Brick Road

Posted on April 7, 2011 by Jim

Well Gang, I’m off to see the Emerald City of Duquesne! It is Thursday morning around 9 a.m. and I am itching to get started on my trek back to Duquesne.  The trip will take about 8 hours or so, but I know it will be well worth it! I’m planning to use my regular route via Route 30 after I reach Breezewood.

The trip from Bedford until about Ligonier was always an “adventure” when my dad was driving. For those of you who had the pleasure of taking that route back in “the day,” one of the highlights would be stopping at the “Ship!” Perched on the highest point between Bedford and Duquesne, stood Grand View Point Hotel. Its name said it all. I recall stopping there everytime we would visit my Uncle Mike and Aunt Ann in Maryland. The view was spectacular and it always meant that we would get a “treat” to enjoy during the remainder of the trip. Unfortunately, the building is gone, but the view still remains as one of the most spectacular! I still stop there and photograph the vistas.

www.brianbutko.com

More later my friends!

Posted in Visits to Duquesne | 2 Comments

The “Green” Hunky

Posted on April 5, 2011 by Jim

I think it is safe to say, that most of our parents were either born before or during The Great Depression. So that you aren’t confused, I am talking about the Depression
that started in about 1929 and lasted until the late 1930s or early 1940s, not the one that feels like its going on today! I remember how my parents would often refer to that time period and how difficult things were for them. In fact, it was an annual tradition for my Uncle Lou to tell us that Santa Claus died during the depression or that he shot the Easter Bunny for Sunday dinner!
As a result of either their parents or their own Depression experiences, my parents were
“green” before being “green” was considered cool. Of course, the reason for their recycling efforts was due to thriftiness as opposed to a concern for the environment and saving our planet. As an example:

  • Shortly after the milkman became extinct, we began buying our milk in ½ gallon cartons that were made of heavy paper that was coated with wax on the inside and outside. The ones I would get for Mom at Kroger’s on Texas Ave. were sold as a pair of ½ gallon cartons joined together at the top with a cardboard strip with two carrying holes in it. Whenever the cartons were empty, my dad would rinse them out and save them in the garage for use during the summer. We had a built in barbeque pit in the backyard that we used quite a lot during the summer. Dad would take the milk cartons and fill them with charcoal briquettes and then place about three of them in the barbeque. He’d then just simply light the carton and allow them to act as kindling for the charcoal inside. By the time the cartons burned up, the charcoal was red hot and ready for grilling!
  • During the holidays, a carton or two would be put to good use as a form for a holiday candle. It would be filled with crushed ice cubes laced around a long wick. Hot melted wax would then be poured into the carton. The wax would seep down through the ice and ultimately form a very pretty square candle with a lacy kind of pattern. We’d cut away the carton, pour out the melted ice and let it dry out.
  • Of course, my Grandpa had quite a different use for the cartons. He had a
    home at 3334  Duquesne Ave. in West Mifflin. He would spend a great deal of
    time sitting in his rocking chair on his porch just watching cards go by. Ol’
    George chewed mail pouch chewin’ tobacco, and by his side was his spittoon
    which, in a former life, was a milk carton. Waste not, want not!
  • When most of us were kids growing up in Duquesne, the question “paper or plastic” wasn’t part of the normal dialog that went on at grocery stores. Purchases were normally packed into brown paper bags or into corrugated boxes in which the products were originally packed. I’m sure the “recycling” that occurred to the bags was not unique to Duquesne alone, but since they’re our memories, who cares!
  • I’m sure you all made use of the brown bags to make school bookcovers to protect your text books. It was always the first thing Mom and I would do at the start of the school year at Holy Name. Since the cost to attend Holy  Name School was only a $5 “book bill,” it was very important to protect the textbooks as much as possible. During the first few days of each school year, our books never looked better. Couple that with the fact that we were allowed to buy a brand new Pee Chee folder, boy, were we stylin’! Usually, within a week or two, our pristine book covers began to show the ravages of wear from being stuffed into bookbags and desks, as well as being the target of countless doodles. By Christmas vacation, our book covers began to rival an Andy Worhal or Jason Pollack work of art! Along with taking down the Christmas tree and ringing in the New Year, my Christmas vacation usually ended with having to recover my school books with new brown paper bag bookcovers!   Of course, I preferred to think of them as blank canvas ready for my masterpieces!
  • Back when I was growing up, if someone mentioned a “hefty bag,” you’d probably think they might be talking about a rather plump cranky old woman. Paper grocery bags were everyone’s garbage can. I’m sure all of your homes used them as trash can liners or just stand-alone trash containers. Some habits die hard, and as a result of those habits, the paper grocery bag is still hanging around in grocery stores around Duquesne. I live in Maryland, and you couldn’t find a paper sack if your life depended on it. Shoppers in Duquesne however, can usually be seen exiting the stores carrying a plastic grocery bag by its handles AND inside each one, is a paper grocery bag being used as a liner. So much for saving the planet!
  • I clearly recall one of my favorite smells growing up was the wonderful aroma whenever my mom would open a fresh can of coffee. She and my dad were Maxwell House devotees. I remember how the cans of coffee came with little keys attached to the top that you would have to breakoff and use to unwind a strip of tin around the lid to open the can. Of course, the edges of that tin strip were so sharp that that could probably have cut through a 2 x 4!
  • Once a coffee can was emptied, it would instantly be put into use in some way. Often, workbenches would be lined with old coffee cans used to store miscellaneous nuts, bolts, nails and screws. Cans would be filled with turpentine and brushes would soak in them in order to dissolve the oil based paint they had just be used to apply. Our neighbors, Adam and Eve Oravich would use the cans to nurture tomato plants prior to the planting season. And in the absence of decorative units, the cans would sometimes serve as kitchen storage canisters for flour or sugar.
  • I recall my Aunt Helen and Aunt Peggy using an empty coffee can to hold Christmas cards. They would open both ends of the can and then wrap brightly colored yarn vertically round the can until it was completely covered. Then, as cards were received they would insert the cards around one of the strands of yarn until the entire can was full.

 

Truly, our parents were quite resourceful and very diligent about repurposing items:

  • On our patio, my dad had made an outdoor floor lamp out of spare auto parts and
    some pipe.
  • When my father was forced to close his garage on 1st Street during  Duquesne’s Redevelopment, Dad took the overhead garage doors from the  building and remade them to fit the garage at our home on Thomas Street.
  • Today, in order to accomplish the simple act of dusting furniture, there are  dozens of products that are made. Swiffer “this”, “micro” that, etc., etc.  I am sure none of us will forget the humiliation we felt as our mothers  would pull out our “tightie whities” that we had outgrown and use them to  clean windows in front of God and the world! Of course, Windex was out of  the question when there was vinegar and water to use.
  • The life cycle of a simple coffee cup was always extended for hunkys as well.  After it lost its usefulness as a coffee cup due to a broken handle or to a chip that could sever your upper lip, the cup did not get discarded. I  think every one of my aunts had a broken cup in the back of their fridge  that was used to collect bacon grease and any other frying “runoff” that  occurred.
  • Speaking of bacon grease, Mom would use the grease for cooking any number of  wonderful things. Today of course, we all understand the dangers of  cholesterol, and we take precautions. Bacon grease is out of the question  to save or use, but oh, it was SO good!

I am sure I have only touched the surface of our parent’s resourcefulness, and I hope you have even more examples of “hunky recycling” to share with us. Please add your comments and your own recollections, we all love reading them.

In the meantime, I’m heading back to Duquesne in a few days. Be sure to let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to snap a photo of while I’m there. I will be sure to
fill you in on all of the treasures I uncover!!

Posted in Life in General, Parents | 8 Comments

Capturing Memories

Posted on March 29, 2011 by Jim

I just confirmed some travel arrangements for a trip back to the West Mifflin-Duquesne area. I will be spending 5 days in the area next week. April 7th through April 11th. During that time, I will be visiting some familiar haunts in Duquesne and the surrounding areas.

I am hoping to be able to spend some time with Jim Hartman at the Mifflin Township Historical Society and hopefully, a visit with Rosemary Denne at Duquesne’s City Hall. For the remainder of the time, I plan on trying to dig up some artifacts from around the town that will relate to my childhood in Duquesne.  Undoubtedly, The Daily News building in McKeesport will be on my “must visit” short list!

A good part of the time that I am visiting will be spent trying to capture some photos of special places and special things. I have already thought of a number of places, homes, and buildings that I’d like to photograph, but I am sure there are a lot more. For that reason, I would like to invite you to give me your suggestions for places you’d like to see on my blog. If you have any ideas, just click on the camera below and send me your thoughts. On the form, be sure to let me your name and in the comment section, let me know what you’d like to specifically see! Be sure to click the “submit” button at the bottom of the form. I will do my best when I’m in Duquesne to try to photograph your suggestion. Be as specific as possible when you tell me what you’d like to see.

In closing, I wanted to share the lyrics of a very special song from the musical “The Wiz.” It puts into words, some of the feelings that I am sure we all have about our hometown.  

 

 

Home

When I think of home
I think of a place where there’s love overflowing
I wish I was home
I wish I was back there with the things I been knowing

Wind that makes the tall trees bend into leaning
Suddenly the snowflakes that fall have a meaning
Sprinklin’ the scene, makes it all clean

Maybe there’s a chance for me to go back there
Now that I have some direction
It would sure be nice to be back home
Where there’s love and affection
And just maybe I can convince time to slow up
Giving me enough time in my life to grow up
Time be my friend, let me start again

Suddenly my world has changed it’s face
But I still know where I’m going
I have had my mind spun around in space
And yet I’ve watched it growing

If you’re list’ning God
Please don’t make it hard to know
If we should believe in the things that we see
Tell us, should we run away
Should we try and stay
Or would it be better just to let things be?

Living here, in this brand new world
Might be a fantasy
But it taught me to love
So it’s real, real to me

And I’ve learned
That we must look inside our hearts
To find a world full of love
Like yours
Like me

Like home…

Posted in Visits to Duquesne | 3 Comments