10 life lessons I have learned from LeBron James

I have never been a Lebron James fan.

I know many of us are coming out of the closet. However, just about anyone who knew me well knows: I love sports, I am a long-suffering Cleveland fan, but I never had any hope or desire for LeBron to be “our savior.”

I saw LeBron play back in high school, and I cheered against him even then. I cheered against him in his junior year when his team of superstars were defeated at the Ohio High School State Tournament by St. Bernard Roger Bacon High School. Who? Yes, Roger Bacon, a team that looked like they should have been winning football championships– not basketball games. However, the Roger Bacon guys played hard, they played smart and they played as a team– something that “LeBron’s team” was not able to do that year. (But, as far as I can see, I have never seen one of “LeBron’s teams” play team basketball).

Of course, I cheered with even more fervency against LeBron’s Akron St . Vincent-St. Mary’s team the next year when they played the Canton South Wildcats. However, the Akron team was playing with a purpose that year. They had wanted to win the state championship all four years, but Roger Bacon rained on their parade the year before. St. V’s wanted to be sure they were not “upset” again. Therefore, they decided they would play the games before deciding they already had the championship in their pockets. Low and behold– they defeated both South and Kettering Archbishop Alter.

All the hype– the king, the chosen one and we are witnesses– just absolutely made me ill over the last few years. No one, and I mean no one– especially someone who dribbles around a basketball for a living (and I love basketball!) should be worshiped and adored as LeBron was.

Even in all this craziness, though, I have learned some life lessons from Lebron James that I would like to share with you, my readers. So, here goes!

1. Be suspicious of any who wears a New York Yankees hat. (Especially when they come from Akron, are making a killing off Cleveland area fans, and they wear the cap to a Cleveland game).

2. People who have to illustrate on their bodies that they are the “chosen one” are most likely not the “chosen one.”

3. If you let someone get away with breaking rules in high school, that person is probably going to do the same thing when they become an adult.

4. Good basketball is spelled t-e-a-m. It is not spelled k-i-n-g.

5. People who refer to themselves in the third person usually have inflated egos (or they found the secret of cloning).

6 People who keep saying “myself” are trying to shy away from saying “me, me, me.”

7. When we are all “witnesses” of someone quitting during a nationally televised game, the guy should not say (or have his friends say) he did not quit.

8. The NBA is not real basketball and someone needs to get it back to what basketball is meant to be (this subject is worth its own blog).

9. Loyalty cannot (and should not) be purchased. Loyalty comes from the heart.

10. As much as I really do not want to make this next statement, I must: “Mom is not always right!”

Tags: LeBron James

My dad– my hero!

Heroes– they change as we grow older, but sometimes they come full circle. My dad, John Hale Jr., was my hero when I was a tiny tot, and now that I am a middle-aged mom and grandmother– he has once again become my hero.

I have memories of my dad way back when I was only about 3 or 4 years old. The reason I know that is because, my parents were divorced at that time, and I vividly remember many of those days. Some of those early events are not easy to share in a blog, but my dad will be 85 years old on April 28, and I do not want to miss the opportunity of letting him and others know why he is my hero.

As I look back to my first memories of my father, most of my viewpoint at that time was literally looking up at him. Over six foot tall, thin, with jet black, wavy hair, my dad definitely stood out in a crowd. Add to that his beaming smile, his guffaw of a laugh and his “I have never met a stranger” personality and you have a person who is not easy to forget.

Although he was a towering man, I recall my dad being a gentle and loving person– not only to his children, but to his mother and his other family members and friends. Furthermore, I knew that he had a sadness about him. During one of our visits, I was crying, and remember seeing tears in his eyes as well.

Over the years, my dad has once again become my hero– for many reasons.

My dad graduated from high school and attended Ashland University. Although economic concerns at the time prevented him from finishing his college education, he never stopped learning. Often visiting his local library, he is an avid reader of books, magazines and newspapers.

My dad honorably served his country in the United States Navy during World War II. He owned his own window washing and office cleaning business for many years.

He was a loving and faithful husband to my stepmother for many years before her recent passing. Together they raised four wonderful children and have been there for my sister Carmie and I and all of their grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

My dad is an accomplished musician, and music has always been an important part of his life. He has not only given lessons to many young people; he is also in demand for his musical talents. Over the years his skillful wielding of the guitar and his sweet singing voice has opened up opportunities for him to meet numerous people from all walks of life. He has traveled many places and entertained thousands of people at many venues, as well as on television and radio. Although he, himself, is a senior citizen– he has spent a lot of time in recent years going into nursing homes with other musicians to entertain the residents. I have no doubts that he had the musical talent to be a success in Nashville, Tenn., or some other “music city,” but he chose to stay home to take care of his wife and family.

My father continues to be an avid gardener. Really, I think I should refer to him as a farmer, because his gardens are not small, 4 foot-by-four-foot patches. No, they have been acres of corn, tomatoes, beans, zucchini, melons and more. What does he do with all this produce? He gives more of it away than he probably keeps. Sure– the family freezes and cans a lot of their bounty, but even those items are often given to a family member, friend or neighbor.

For all of these reason, my father is my hero, but probably the most important reason I admire him has to do with his faith in God. He loves the Lord Jesus, and lives his life according to what scripture teaches: “Love the Lord, Your God, with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Although my dad is one of those people at the top of my hero list, I have many other heroes. They include other relatives, as well as ministers, teachers and friends. Tell me about your heroes and how they made an impression on your life. Maybe your story can inspire others, as I hope that my story about my dad will do.

I love you dad, and I think I can safely say so do Carmie, Christy, Johnny, Gary and Angie.

Let’s talk about casinos, cameras and quarterbacks

Let’s talk…

I have several items on my mind this month, so bear with me, and feel free to agree or disagree. This random column has my opinions on casinos, tournament games and even Browns quarterbacks (and I do mean quarterbacks, because it has been a long time since we have had “A Quarterback.”)

Are casinos really the answer to Ohio’s economic problems?
First of all– what were Ohio voters thinking last November when they approved casinos coming into Ohio– namely in Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati and Toledo?

I know many Ohioans looked at the sad state of Ohio’s economy and thought: “we need jobs and state funding so why not bring casinos to Ohio?” A majority of residents wanted the money for our state, as well as the convenience of having casinos nearby– instead of in neighboring states.
However, many seem to be okay with having casinos in the state, but not as many want them in their backyards. Just ask a few residents and business owners in some of the cities that will soon have casinos.

A Casino Free Columbus group has been organized since the November vote. This group, which has in it’s membership successful restaurant and other business owners, clergymen and many other citizens, is concerned about a casino coming to town.
Those concerns include:
1. Casinos pulling money from local businesses such as restaurants, bars and stores.
2. Casino owners not guaranteeing to hire Ohioans, and if they do what kind of pay or positions will they be given?
3. Gambling being found to be addictive and causing people to go into debt leaving families to suffer divorces, bankruptcies and foreclosures (causing more problems for the economy).
4. Casinos bringing in crime, which ends up costing the state much more for police protection.

I love visiting our state capital, and it is extremely disappointing to think Columbus could go in the same direction of Atlantic City, New Jersey, and Gulfport, Mississippi. As a young child, I vacationed in Atlantic City with my family, and have great memories of that time. In the 1950s and ‘60s, Atlantic City was a great place for families to visit. The “Boardwalk,” with all its attractions, food, entertainment– and, of course, the Atlantic Ocean, was known around the world. We saw the Everly Brothers (big stars then). I ate my first submarine sandwich (delicious!). And– speaking of submarines, my family and I went down in a capsule-type of “submarine.” This strange looking ball, with lots of windows, was tethered to something on the surface. I don’t remember seeing a lot of sea life, but it was a unique experience, although a little scary.

I have not been to Atlantic City since that time, but from what I have heard from others and in the news, it is no longer a place to take the family. The casinos, which were supposed to save Atlantic City, did not, and the fantastic tourist attraction of the years past, is a shell of what it once was.

Furthermore, my oldest son was stationed in Gulfport during much of his service in the United States Navy. I was warned before he went, that Gulfport had a lot of crime and poverty. That is exactly what my son found, when he spent a couple years there. He came back thinking he would not want to raise a family in the area, which really did not have a lot to offer the local people when it came to jobs.

Will casinos be the answer to our woes here in Ohio, or will it be the same as the lottery, which basically gives one place, while the government takes from another place? Time will tell, and you are welcome to give your opinions, but, for me, I am sad and scared to see casinos coming to Ohio.

Flash or no flash– that has been the big question this year!

As many high school basketball fans have noticed this season, sports photographers, including Press-News photographer Andrea Gallucci, have not had an easy time doing their job.

I am very proud of the work Andrea has done this year. We have had several successful teams and individuals to keep our readers informed about during this season, and although advertising has been down and our issues have been small, we have had lots of great photos and many stories in each paper. At times, though, I think it would have been easier for her to take illegal weapons through airport security than use a camera with a flash during a basketball game.

As you read in her editorial a few weeks ago, the rules for the use of flash are spelled out on the Ohio High School Athletic Association Web site, and Andrea and our other photographers pack those rules into the camera cases and have them at all the games. Furthermore, they are experienced enough to use good judgment about when and where to take flash photos. They are professionals and they should be treated like professionals.

Now we are in tournaments and my staff and I have experienced mixed receptions, as we have been out covering games at various locations. First, let me compliment Eric Schumacher, tournament manager, and Massillon Washington High School. My husband and I recently visited the school to cover a Canton South girls district final game. As is our policy during tournament time, I called to inform the director about P-N staff members who would be at the game. No problems. Everything went smoothly from that phone conversation, to the entrance into the game and even the follow-up e-mails received from the school with box scores and an updated bracket (something I have never received from any host school before visiting Massillon Washington).

My compliments to the director and the school for a class act. They had plenty of seating and parking; they were friendly; and their announcer did an awesome job of making sure all coaches, statisticians and team members were recognized. To me, the school was a prime example of what a host school should be like in the tournament.

Now for the bad news. The next game the Lady Cats played was the regional semi-final game at Barberton High School. Once again, we contacted the school to let them know who would be there, and that we would use flash photography. When Andrea arrived at the school, however, she was told by a school official that no one would be allowed to shoot from the baseline with a flash. He said OHSAA rules are discretionary, and he chooses to not allow it. He said she could have been there to “sabotage” the other team. Do you think someone has watched those B-W 3 commercials too many times? No– we are not trying to send the game into overtime!

In all his wisdom and hospitality, he granted Andrea permission to shoot with a flash from the stands. So, you can imagine what a wonderful night it was for Andrea to have her camera and other photography equipment up in the stands trying to get good photos of the (now) 22-3 Lady Wildcats. Also, wouldn’t you love to be the fan sitting next to her while she is trying to juggle all of the equipment and get good shots of the game? Ridiculous!

This is (partially) what OHSAA says about tournament games and flash photography (you can visit their site to read more):

Photographers may position themselves along the baseline outside the lane area of the court and are permitted to use electronic attachments (flash) mounted to a camera as specified above.

These regulations apply to both regular-season and OHSAA tournament contests. They also apply to all photographers approved for credentials, including those representing the participating schools.

Another host school that needs to make some changes is Salem, where the East Canton boys have had their sectional and district games this year, since moving up to Division III. My staff and others tell me that Salem does not have enough room for fans to sit or to park. Officials at the school may not have realized what types of crowds would be attending games this year, but it seems these matters should have been addressed prior to hosting at least 12 different schools for OHSAA tournament games.

I am not sure if OHSAA representatives are able to attend games at each of its host schools, so I hope you, the fans, the coaches and the players, will let them know when you have been treated well or not so great.

Ruthless fans

Derek Anderson, who has been one of the quarterbacks for the Browns the last few years, was just released. After he was let go, he had a few words to say to Cleveland Browns Fans, and they were not warm and fuzzy.

“The fans are ruthless and don’t deserve a winner” he said and added that he would never forget the fans cheering when he was injured during a game.

I was not that much of a Derek Anderson fan, and I actually wanted to see Brady Quinn get more of an opportunity, but I must say– I totally agree with Derek’s remarks. He did apologize later, saying he was speaking out of frustration, but he was right. Cleveland does have a lot of ruthless fans, and I was embarrassed and disgusted when I heard them cheering because a player was injured. It’s terrible sportsmanship to cheer if an opponent gets hurt, and it is just absurd to cheer when one of your own is lying on the ground.

I hope with the new management and coaching something can be done about the quarterback controversies we Browns fans have lived with since the days of Tim Couch. It appears that Cleveland is the place players (especially QBs) come to, to be completely deflated and torn apart. It has been a QB killer! Hopefully, the coach will decide on a quarterback and stick with him, and the fans will just shut up and let the coaches do their thing. What has been going on the last few years has not worked, so why not try something new?

That is my thoughts for this month of March. With the sun making an appearance, the snow melting, March madness beginning (I love college basketball!) and the Indians winning so far in spring training (I also love baseball!)– spring is truly right around the corner. Hurrah!

Tags: basketball, casinos, football

Don’t kill the messenger– or accuse her of slander!

I work at being a positive person, and I often thank God for the many blessings he has given me in my life. However, I have to report– January was an annoying month for me.

I hope you will bear with me, as I spill my heart a little about the dreary, cold and stressful month. Maybe by writing about it, I will relieve some of the anxieties. Hopefully, this blog will also explain a little about the newspaper business and clear up a few misconceptions that a few in the area seem to have.

Recently, when I attended a township board of trustees meeting, I had a man approach me at the end of the meeting and the first words that came out of his mouth were: “Are you the person who keeps slandering me in the newspaper?”

It was all downhill after that first remark, as he continued to tell me how I should call him after every meeting to give him the opportunity to respond to everything that is said  about him– well, not actually about him, but about  his business.

Actually, it did not surprise me that the conversation started out badly and degenerated. Several months ago, I had a similar conversation with someone from the same business (possibly the same person). After at least 20 minutes, I was forced to  politely say I was ending the conversation, because we were going no where fast.

Most of our readers understand very well what public political meetings are all about, but since this man does not appear to understand  our First Amendment that says we have “freedom of speech, freedom of the press and freedom to peaceably assemble,” I will try to explain how public meetings and the press operate.

1. Public meetings are held so everyone can speak at the meetings (that is why they have a public speaks part of the meeting).
2. We, as a newspaper attend the meetings and we report what is said and done– both by officials and by the citizens who attend the meetings.
3. If someone says something about you or your business that you feel is false, you have the opportunity in the public speaks part of the meeting to respond. Reporters will gladly put both sides of the issue in the paper, so readers can come to their own conclusions.
4. If you just cannot bear the thought of speaking up in front of a crowd of people at a meeting, another option is to write a letter to the editor to give your point of view. The letter should be signed, have an address and phone number (for verification purposes) and it must be in good taste.
5. It is absolutely impossible for a newspaper staff to call and verify everything said at a meeting. Each township, village or school board meeting is filled with numerous discussions, reports and opinions. We strive to use good judgment, but it is absurd to think any newspaper has the staff to verify everything said at a public meeting. Below are just a few items mentioned at recent political meetings, covered by Press-News staff:

• Suspicious, mailed advertisements being sent to East Canton and Osnaburg Township residents to sell water line insurance;
• Several unresolved zoning issues in Pike, Canton and Osnaburg townships, in which residents have failed to properly respond;
• In a letter, Stark County Sheriff Tim Swanson said he “refused to subsidize the police department in Sandy Township,” and residents at the meeting pointed out they pay taxes to the sheriff’s department for police coverage;
• A parent who visited a school board meeting to say she was concerned with the dress and behavior of some students at school dances;
• Mining issues in Pike Township.

Should I call every property owner that is mentioned in a zoning report? Should I call all the students at the high school and ask what they think about the dances and their classmates’ attire? Should I call all the mining companies in the area?

To the credit of the owners of mining companies working in Pike Township, several  have stepped up and visited meetings, answered questions, met with residents and even gave an interesting media presentation at one of the meetings I attended.  I admire and respect them for taking the time to not only attend the meetings, but  to also be for willing to communicate with the people who may or may not be affected by their business.

Instead of being so willing to “kill the messenger” or at least find it so easy to argue with a reporter, I wonder why this business owner does not follow the example of these mining company owners who are tough enough to answer questions and work to open lines of communications with their critics.

I have worked at the newspaper now for around 25 years. I have listened to complaints, criticisms, suggestions, praise and even indifference. I think I am reasonable when someone is willing to be reasonable, but nothing can be accomplished until people are respectful, ready to listen to others and willing to communicate and cooperate.

Tags: Public meetings

Winter– a great time for family, reading and slowing down

Snow, cold weather, ice, slush, wind–

I am not a fan of winter in Ohio!

However, the frigid winters have given certain advantages to us northerners. Do students (or teachers) in Florida get snow days when they can sleep until noon, then go out to build a snowman, come back inside, jump into their PJs again and drink hot chocolate? I don’t think so!

What about family time– what family in Hawaii gets that extra time together that we do to play board games, watch old family movies, sit around and talk when not able to get out of our driveways? I would dare to say not many.

Does anyone in Texas get the opportunity to start a fire in the fireplace and curl up in a Snuggy and read a great book? I seriously doubt it.

Reading is a warmer activity than sledding

Although the winter is not my favorite time of the year, I do love the many activities it forces us to take time to do when we are “trapped in our cabins.” Reading is one of those delightful activities that I seem to have more time for during those winter months, and this weather has definitely given me time for extra reading. I’d like to tell you about a couple books I’ve read. In addition, I would love to hear about the books you have read and loved (or maybe did not like, so I don’t have to waste my time reading them).

Before Christmas I actually read two books– “Return to Sawyertown Springs” by Andy Anderson, one of my favorite authors, and “The Purpose of Christmas” by Rick Warren, a book loaned to me by my friend, Ginny Exline. Both were good books– the type of books you can read, set aside for awhile and pick up a few days later. The reason: neither book is a novel, but each is a collection of writings or stories.

The Purpose of Christmas

Warren’s book could be read anytime– not just at Christmas, but it does have a way of getting Christians back to the basics at Christmas. Instead of thinking so much about gifts, decorating, baking, wrapping and all the other basically unimportant parts of Christmas– it leads you back to the simple, but beautiful story of the birth of Jesus. He writes about peace– the true peace in one’s heart as a Christian. He also told about his own Christmas celebrations as a child such as having a birthday party for Jesus. It is a book worth reading anytime of the year.

Return to Sawyertown Springs

I was fortunate to receive an autographed copy of the Andrews book this fall. When I received an e-mail asking if I would be interested in reading his latest book and writing a review on it, I jumped at the chance. I had already read couple of his books– “Island of Saints” and “The Traveler’s Gift.” I loved them both (especially “Island”) and I would definitely recommend both books. In fact, I own “Island of Saints” and have loaned it to several poeple. Both are serious, historical and thought-provoking novels about forgiveness, faith and hope.

Although quite different from his novels, I would also suggest you read Andrews’ latest book, “Return to Sawyertown Springs.” It is a collection of individual stories about small town life, namely his hometown. The stories, described as “mostly true,” are heartwarming, hilarious, sad, uplifting and vaguely familiar to an editor of a weekly newspaper. It seems like I have lived through a few of his stories, but I hope not in the same vain as Andrews’ Miss Edna, the 83-year old spinster who is the editor and owner of the Sawyertown Springs weekly paper, which is often the talk of the town because of its errors. (Ouch!)

One of the stories that had me wondering if Andrews had grown up in the Press-News area had to do with a coach of a team of 11-year-old boys. The coach had a speech impediment that caused him to say things like “pray” instead of play and “swide” instead of slide. I truly think I knew that coach, since I heard almost the same story many times from a friend of mine whose nephew was coached by a man who told him to “swide.” Needless to say– little boys (and sometimes their families) find these types of things quite funny.

Chapter Three of the book when Andy talks about “his father, a pastor of Grace Fellowship Baptist Church in the town,” is one of the funniest parts of the book. His dad, a loving dad and strong spiritual leader, is also described by Andy as “a nut.” He continued, “Not a professional nut, like I have become, but a nut nonetheless.”

Andy gave a list of “unbreakable rules” his dad had given him. Number 4 on the list, according to the book, was “Never play in the living room with firecrackers, water balloons, mud, skates, a yo-yo, a bullwhip or the dog. The rule actually started out as plain old ‘don’t play in the living room.’ All the other things were added one at a time.”

I loved the stories about teachers who had effected his life, husbands and wives who worked through difficult time and saw their love grow, buddies who went fishing and stayed friends through disastrous situations, business owners who arrived at a truce, and a man who found out he literally owned the whole town and how he and the town worked out this predicament. You will also have to read the book to hear about the couple, which after being stranded in Sawyertown Springs, decided to stay and make it their home; about Michael Ted Williams’ Elvis-inspired funeral; and about Billy Pat’s midnight walk carrying the American flag and wearing red satin shorts.

This coffee table book can be read in a few short sittings or you can leisurely read it a story at a time. Either way, readers will find themselves chuckling out loud at times (as I did). Furthermore, you will be reminded of how wonderfully supportive and loving people in villages and rural areas can be and you might even notice a lump in your throat or a tear on your cheek as certain stories touch your heart.

If Andy ever wanted to write another edition of his “mostly true” stories of his hometown, I think I may be able to give him a few ideas for the next book. As an editor of a weekly newspaper for 20-plus years– I have seen or reported on everything– exciting successes, heart-wrenching stories, amusing characters and inspirational people. A small town: there is no place better!

Good news and bad news– what do you want first?

My grandson Evan (and his Batman bear) having a serious talk with Santa about what to bring for Christmas.

This past few weeks has given Press-News area residents many reasons to cheer and count our blessings, as well as grounds to get angry and ask why. Let’s start with the reasons to cheer.
Waynesburg is your new Christmas headquarters!
The village of Waynesburg, along with the Sandy Valley area, should pat themselves on the back. The Sandy Valley Christmas Parade, held this year in Waynesburg, was a fantastic success.
I was fortunate enough to share the experience with my grandson, Evan, who turned 7 years old on Nov. 18, just a few days before the parade. Evan’s comment sums it all up: “This is my best day ever!” he exclaimed as we participated in the many activities during the event.
We got into town about 10 a.m. that morning, and I had to wonder if I was really in the  little village of Waynesburg. We had breakfast at Waynesburg  Grille, where the waitresses had donned their holiday attire and everyone was talking about the parade that would soon kick off.
When we left the restaurant and walked down the sidewalk to see the parade, the streets were lined with people waiting for the parade. Christmas music was playing on the square, and the gazebo on the opposite corner was decorated and ready for a visit from Old St. Nick.
The parade had over 60 units including floats, the Sandy Valley Marching Band, Santa and his elves, Charlie Brown and gang, a huge bowl of  pasta being stirred by Cibo’s employees and much more. Of course, the children carried home bags of candy that was thrown by many of those participating in the parade. After the parade, Santa greeted  children at the gazebo. Thanks to “his elves,” (members of the Waynesburg Historical Society), Santa was able to give each child a toy, a stuffed animal, a bag of candy and a little “sparkly dust” to put out on their lawns so the jolly ol’ guy can find his way to each of their homes.
We then made our way to the Waynesburg Fire Station, where kids were able to decorate cookies or make a craft. Other special events that took place in Waynesburg to kick off  the Christmas season included a chili supper and craft and antique show at the Sandy Valley American Legion, hay rides to see the decorated homes and a “sounds of the season” dinner at Cibo’s Restaurant.
Waynesburg– you should be proud! You pulled out the red carpet, you put smiles on the faces of many youngsters, you brought the Sandy Valley area together and you inspired everyone to begin enjoying the holiday season that begins with Thanksgiving and continues through Christmas and New Years Day.

This photo was taken several years ago when my daughter Adriana was participating in a fall event at the East Canton Library.

What can we “read” into the Stark County Library wanting to close the EC Branch?
Everyone knows the economy is not good and just about everyone is cutting back on their spending. It seems that every day we hear about another business  that has folded or a nonprofit group that is desperate for funds to keep afloat.
The Stark County District Library is one of those nonprofit groups struggling due to losing funding. According to Kent Oliver, executive director of the Stark Library, the library district has to cut is budget by $2 million, and that is why they are closing two branches, East Canton and  Canton Community.
As I said, I understand the cutbacks, but I have a few questions and a statement or two to make to the director of the library district and the board of trustees.

Why does the village of East Canton and the eastern side of the county have to be the only ones to pay the price? Can’t the library cut back in another area? How about cutting back hours, staff and costs  throughout the system?  How about closing one of the other locations?
As I looked at the branches in the Stark County District, I noticed six Canton locations. Three of the branches are within three miles from the main library: the DeHoff Branch is 1.52 miles away, the North Branch, 1.66 miles and the Madge Youtz Branch, 2.58 miles. And– all of these branches have bus service throughout the day and night.  Meanwhile, the East Canton Branch is almost seven miles from the main library,  with limited bus service.
I keep hearing from library officials about how East Canton can use the Louisville or Minerva libraries, both of which are independent libraries. And– I have to ask, if the East Canton area is paying $90,000 of your one-mill levy, why are you sending us to one of the independent libraries?
The library representatives want to tell us the Louisville library is “just three miles up the road.” And, I ask, three miles from where? Three miles from the northern part of East Canton. I live in the Mapleton area of East Canton, and it is definitely farther than three miles from my house. And– what does it matter if it is one mile or 10 miles away to a child or teenager who does not drive. The East Canton Branch is now walking distance from their school. As a parent, I love that. I do not want to think of my 16-year-old having to “carpool” to the library every time he needs a book or wants to do some research for an assignment. Furthermore, the Louisville Library is also in jeopardy of closing, due to not being able to get a levy passed.
And– as far as the Minerva Library, it is 12 miles from East Canton!  Let me get this straight– Mr. Oliver and the board of trustees at the library are asking us to drive or let our teens drive almost 12 miles to go to the library, when the city of Canton has six libraries?
Also, I am wondering– if the Stark County District wants us to begin using the Louisville or Minerva libraries, can we take our money and help out these other areas that are also struggling?
I have many great memories of my children visiting the library– both in the Sandy Valley and East Canton areas. When we lived in Waynesburg, we often visited the Sandy Valley Branch, and they were involved in many of the children’s activities. Later, when we moved to East Canton, they frequented the library on Nassau and later at the Foltz Center. I remember my daughters walking in the Hall of Fame Kick-Off Parade dressed as “bookworms” and  reading enough books to win prizes as one of the top readers in the county.  All my children have been readers, and I know it has helped them in so many other areas of their lives.
I also love going to the library to take out books, videos and Cds, to look at magazines and newspapers and sometimes just to visit. The librarians at the East Canton Branch are always helpful and friendly. They are a part of the community. They have watched our children grow up, and they know them by their first names. Many times I have stopped into the library and had one of the librarians ask, “How is Ian?” or make a remark such as “Your son is really getting tall!
The Foltz Community Center representatives say they are willing to work with the library on rental costs. I know many are hoping they will. Our residents– young and not so young– cannot lose this extremely important part of our community, and the Foltz Center literally cannot afford to lose a dependable and reputable renter.
The residents worked long and hard in the 1960s to raise $10,000 to have a library in their hometown– $10,000 almost 50 years ago– it might as well have been a million!  I can’t imagine how they accomplished the feat.  Around 10 years ago the residents joined together to accomplish another seemingly impossible task– building the Foltz Community Center, without using any government funds.  More recently, they have joined together to pass a levy and have a new K-12 school built, and next school year our students will be attending school in the new facility.
I hope Foltz Center and library officials can come to some type of agreement that would be good for everyone involved– especially our children who need a safe, nearby, hometown library.  But if they can’t, I think the people of East Canton have enough pride, perseverance and vision to have a library in their hometown one way or another.

Family is a link to our past, bridge to our future

All of us cousins had a wonderful, long visit with our "Aunt Evelyn" duirng our recent weekend in "Wild, Wonderful West Virginia."

Although the Tygart Lake in Grafton, W.Va., is a little lower this time of the year, it is still a magnificent sight. I highly recommend the trip to the state park, which is only about three and a half hours from Canton. The people are friendly, the cabins are clean and beautiful and the lodge is also a great place to stay, eat and fellowship.

On Sunday morning, all of us "cousins" posed for a photo from our cabin's balcony, which overlooked the Tygart Lake.

In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future. – Alex Haley

As young girls– we stayed up late at night talking about everything from family to our love lives, laughing and acting stupid, and scaring ourselves half to death with spooky stories.

Four decades or so later we are talking about family and our love lives, chuckling about silly stories and scaring the other half to death with spooky tales. Nothing has changed all that much.

This past weekend I was blessed to spend a weekend with my sister, my sister-in-law and several of my cousins. We come from a large family. My grandmother and grandfather. Grace and Joe Mayle, had six children, and each one of the children had six children, except for my own parents– who had three. Most of the first cousins are now married and have families of their own, and now our children are starting their families. Needless to say– our family reunions can be huge affairs, and it is hard to keep up with all the generations.

Our large family is, thankfully, also a close-knit family. We have many memories of getting together as youngsters, and that tradition has not changed a lot over the years, as reunions, parties, weddings, funerals and now special weekend trips keep us in touch, and we are able to bond in both the sad and happy times.

When I was a little girl, my grandparents and several other family members lived out in Grafton, W.Va., while others lived in Ohio. We visited often and sometimes we would even stay with our grandparents for a week or two at a time.

Quite often at Christmas– my family would pile into our Buick (my parents always drove a Buick), and we would make our way out to West Virginia. It took at last five hours, and if the roads were bad, it took much longer. Some years I was terrified of being stuck between two huge mountains and not be able to get home or to grandma and grandpa’s.

“Would Santa and his reindeer find us and deliver our gifts out there on the road?” I wondered. But we always made it there, and although my grandparents always went to bed before the sun set and woke up before the sun rose– grandma was always at the door greeting us. I  remember her wearing a flannel robe, her long silver braids (which she usually had pinned up) cascading down on her shoulders, and her arms open to give us all hugs. Grandpa was sometimes right there with her or we would see him the first thing in the morning. Usually we would have a slice of applesauce pie or a glass of cold, fresh milk (I mean fresh from the cow that day) or some other delicious snack before she tucked us into bed.

When our other aunts and uncles came with their families, all of us kids often slept on the floor– with lots of blankets, quilts and pillows– in front of the coal stove. We stayed  toasty warm, as long as someone kept coal in the stove.

Those were the times we would whisper, giggle and talk, talk, talk. Now and then grandma or our parents would say, “It is about time you kids quiet down and get to sleep” or “If you don’t get to sleep Santa is never going to come.” Now– the last statement really got our attention and we were soon asleep.

When were a little older we loved to take long walks together around what we knew as “West Hill,” where our grandparents and other relatives lived. The “river,” which was actually the Tygart Lake area was one of our favorite places to see. Visiting Uncle Freedy and Aunt Irene and all their exotic animals and birds such as peacocks was always an adventure. Making crepe paper flowers and decorating our ancestors’ graves in the cemetery at the top of hill also became a a tradition. On Sundays, we would put on our best dresses, bonnets and shiny shoes and walk to the tiny, white church where grandma worshipped every Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night.

All those memories and more were shared this  past weekend when a “female cousins” reunion was held at the Tygart Lake State Park. Some of us stayed in cabins and others at the lodge, but we mainly spent time in one of the cabins. The plan was not to go shopping, not to see a show, not to spend a lot of money– but to just hang out, talk, visit and get reacquainted. The weekend was successful. In fact, the rainy Saturday probably kept us inside a little more than we wanted, but God works in mysterious ways, and I think He knew we needed to see each other more than we needed to see places.

Hey, if you are going to be inside what can be better than to be in a cozy cabin, with a fireplace and lots of firewood, more food than any group of women should ever eat, wonderful scenery and surrounded by people you love and admire? We talked for hours about the past, present and even the future.

We did take time to visit our “Aunt Evelyn,” who after 60-plus years of marriage, was recently widowed, when our “Uncle Harland” passed away. The visit was almost surreal, as we sat for a couple hours– asking her questions, looking at her photos, watching video of a family reunion, listening to my cousin Katherine read something about her memories of living in and later visiting West Virginia and talking about the “precious memories” we have of those loved one who are no longer with us in this world. I am not sure who enjoyed the visit more my aunt or her many nieces.

After a few hours of talking, crying and laughing both at my aunt’s and later in our cabin– we had a little change of pace when we attended a Halloween party. The Tygart Lake Lodge hosted a wonderful, family time that included a band playing 1960-70s music, dancing, lots of  kids and adults in costumes, games and a buffet. What fun that was!

After a full day of activities, it did not take long for us all to fall asleep. We woke up the next morning to a glorious, sunny Sunday. We had coffee, muffins and doughnuts while we sat around for more conversation.

Before we all departed for our homes in Ohio, West Virginia and Georgia we went to the lodge restaurant for a long and delicious  lunch and even longer goodbyes. No one wanted to leave, but all felt blessed to have been a part of such an awesome weekend, and we plan to do it again– soon!

I am proud of my family. We descended from people, who included our “Grandma Grace” and “Grandpa Joe.” They believed in God, hard work and family. This heritage has been passed down, and it was evident as the ladies I spent the weekend with were educators, medical professionals, business women, moms, wives, grandmothers, caretakers– all hard-working, caring, intelligent people.

To my sister, my sister-in-law, my cousins and those who are new to the family– I thank God for you.  “You can pick your friends, but not your family,” the old saying goes. Well, I think God picks our families for us, and He knows a lot more than we do. I certainly could not have chosen anyone better than all of you.

If you could go back in time– what would you change?

To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born,
- And a time to die;
A time to plant,
- And a time to pluck what is planted;
A time to kill,
- And a time to heal;
A time to break down,
- And a time to buildup;
A time to weep,
- And a time to laugh;
A time to mourn,
- And a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones,
- And a time to gather stones;
A time to embrace,
- And a time to refrain from embracing,
A time to gain,- And a time to lose;
A time to keep,
- And a time to throw away;
A time to tear,
- And a time to sew;
A time to keep silence,
- And a time to speak;
A time to love,
- And a time to hate;
A time of war,
- And a time of peace.” – Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

I watched “déjà vu” the other night with Denzel Washington.   “Time” movies (not to mention Denzel Washington)  fascinate me.
In the movie, Denzel’s character could possibly go back in time to save the lives of many men, women and children,  including a beautiful lady, who died because of a terror attack on a ferry boat in New Orleans. Don’t expect me to tell you how the movie ends.  You have to watch it. I think you will be as mesmerized as I was.
With all that has taken place in the last couple weeks in our Press-News area, such as seeing a 15-year-old student lose her life in a tragic car accident, the movie made me contemplate about what I would change if I was able to travel back in time. What if I could go back to the 1800s and warn President Abraham Lincoln not to go to Ford’s Theater? How awesome would it be to return to the 1960s (when I was a young girl), and have the opportunity tell the FBI that Lee Harvey Oswald was planning to assassinate President John F. Kennedy in Dallas, Texas? Wouldn’t it be amazing to be able to return to Sept. 10, 2001, and make sure all the  terrorists were apprehended before they boarded any airplane that day?
As a sports lover– I would love to go back and tell Cleveland Indians Manager Mike Hargrove to not put in his closer, Jose Mesa, in the last game of the 1997 World Series against the Florida Marlins. If I could just go back a few short years ago, I would have told Eric Wedge if he did not find some way– any way– to defeat the Red Sox in that fourth game, they were not going to win another game in that series– thus no World Series, AGAIN (which they most likely would have won that season). He may still have his job in Cleveland, and we wouldn’t be watching Cliff Lee and Victor Martinez playing in the post-season for other teams.
On a more personal and serious level– time travel could give me an chance to warn my loved ones about impending dangers. As was done in “Frequency,” another of my favorite time travel movies, I would caution my mother about smoking, as well as getting away from her profession as a hair stylist (or at least all the hairspray)– both of which contributed to her suffering and dying from emphysema when she was just in her 50s. I could go back and change those huge mistakes I made in my life (yes, I made a few!).  I could try to prevent some of my closest friends from losing their family members in tragic accidents. If I was able to accomplish just one of these feats by traveling back in time– I would do it in a “New York second.”

As I watched that movie on Saturday night, I thought of Angie Baker, who lost her life because of a drunk driver. Could I have talked to the woman who was driving drunk and implore her to stay out of the driver’s seat? Could I have talked her into getting help for her problem? I know there are groups, churches and counselors who could have aided her in turning her life around– if she was willing to accept their help. If I had visited her place of employment, would I have had the ability to urge someone in the place to stop her from driving in her condition?  What if I had warned Angie and her family to stay home that night or take a different route?
Just as it is my desire, I am sure it would be the wish of many of you– to be able to save this high school sophomore, who had her whole life ahead of her, and who was loved by many family members and friends. I wish that day’s events could be changed  for many reasons: for the sake of Angie’s grandfather, who told me he was at least glad he hugged and kissed his granddaughter that day, for the sake of East Canton Principal Chris Corbi who told me Angie’s year had started off so well this year and for the sake of the students and staff at East Canton High School who are still stunned and heartbroken by this loss. Unfortunately– reality tells us– opportunities to go back in time and change events only take place in the movies.
However, we are still able to use the time we have today, and we can help shape the future. So, what can we do in the present time? How about talking to people in our own schools, places of employment or families, when we see they have a problem that needs addressed before it hurts them or someone else? What about urging lawmakers to have tougher laws and car manufacturers to develop ways to keep drunk drivers from driving?  Why not just show our loved ones, our friends, our classmates that we care for them and we are there for them?
And– what if we looked at our own lifestyles and habits  such as texting and driving, driving when too tired or turning the other way when we see someone else taking the driver’s seat when you know they are in no condition to be there.
William Penn said, “Time is what we want most, but what we use worst.” How are you using the time God gave you?

A Sad ‘Western’ Story

A pot of gold, the hero saving the lady in need and money being wired right away by Western Union may only happen in the movies.

In the spirit of Zane Grey, the famous author of classic western books, this blog will present my own western story (any resemblance to an actual experience of my own is most likely planned).
Doc Purdue and his wife, May Belle were born and raised in Rawhide, Ariz. The childhood sweethearts, who married young, were not blessed with a child until 10 years after their wedding day. Their daughter, Aimee Rose, was born July 4, 1900. Doc wanted to name her Betsy after Betsy Ross to commemorate the patriotic day of her birth, but May Belle wanted to name their daughter after her late mother Aimee Shaw and Doc’s sister, Rosalee Burns, who lived in New York City.
With her long, auburn hair and big blue eyes, Aimee Rose was the apple of her dad’s eye, and he spoiled her as only a loving papa would do. Of course, May Belle loved her daughter, as well, but she tried to teach her to be a lady– a strong, adventurous and kind lady just like Aimee Shaw and Rosalee Burns were. (Of course, May Belle Purdue could be described the same way).
Their daughter grew up to be that strong woman, and at 20 years old, she came to her parents one day and announced her plans to move to New York City, where she would study music at the Institute of Musical Art (later Juilliard School of Music). Deep down both Doc and May Belle were heartbroken to see their only child leave them, and they were terrified of her traveling so far all alone.
However, they raised her to set her goals high, and God had blessed Aimee with a voice sweeter than a Morning Dove. The Purdues let their only daughter go, with their blessings and prayers. Besides, Doc not only practiced medicine for years, he was had served on the board of trustees for the Union Pacific Railroad Company, and he would see that Aimee Rose arrived safely to the other side of the USA.
Of course, Aimee would stay with her Aunt Rosalee, who had a boarding house just a few blocks from the school. Rosalee, a widow, would be thrilled to have her sweet, young niece living in her home.
Furthermore, Doc knew his sister was in need of financial help. She was too proud to ask for anything, but he would see that she was compensated for her hospitality and kindness to Aimee. Doc remembered how devastated Rosalee was when her husband died of typhoid. She lost the love of her life, and due to a few misfortunes at the end of his life, Rosalee was left with not much more than a house and a few rooms of furniture. Turning that lovely two-story, brownstone home into a boarding house was the only way Rosalee was able to stay the independent woman she had always been.
All started out well for Aimee Rose as she made her way to Aunt Rosalee’s home on the east coast. She arrived safely in New York. But as her carriage pulled up in front of “Miss Rosalee’s Boarding House,” Aimee was shocked to see the house for sale, and to find her aunt inside with tears in her eyes and looking much older than when she visited Arizona a few years ago.
Aunt Rosalee relayed the sad story to her niece. She was out of money and the bank was about to foreclose on the property that she had lived at for 30 years. During that time Rosalee had often opened her home and her heart to those who also did not have funds, family or friends. She gave them a warm meal, clean bed and promises of better things to come. Now she would have to say farewell to her home and tell her niece and the other young ladies they would have to find another place to reside.
Although Aunt Rosalee protested, Aimee promptly marched to the corner drug store and telephoned her parents to ask them to please wire money to New York City, so her aunt could keep her home. Of course, Doc and May Belle did not bat an eye at this request. What two people in the whole world did they love more than their daughter and Doc’s sister? Doc, with May Belle at his side, drove their 1910 Model T as fast as they could, to the Western Union station and wired enough money for a year of house payments.
Unfortunately. a glitch took place and Western Union was not able to wire the money to Rosalee and Aimee. A few days later, a frantic call was made to Doc and May Belle from Aimee, telling them the money had not arrived and bank officials would be there any day to take the keys and escort Aunt Rosalee and all her boarders from the house. What could be done? If Western Union was unable to help then how would they possibly be able to get money across the country to their loved ones?

Sad story, huh! What do you think happened? In the old western movies and shows, Western Union came though, Pony Express made a record trip across country, a tall dark and handsome cowboy saved the beautiful, young lady and everyone lived happily ever after. I would like to write that Aimee, Aunt Rosalee, Doc and May Belle were all saved from their plight, and Aimee found the love of her life, as well as her life’s calling.

However, after my recent experience with Western Union, I am afraid those happy endings may have been more Hollywood’s take on the story than reality. Sounds bleak, I know, but how can I have positive thoughts about a company, which prides itself in being able to send money instantly all over the world, but could not find a way of sending a FAX to release $551 of my checking account funds?

My story starts with my daughter moving to New York City and needing cash quickly in order to secure an apartment. Due to changing banks for the move, she did not have a debit card available and it seemed easier for her “loving” parents to “wire” the money. This was my first time ever to use the services of Western Union, and I thought if they could send messages back in the 1800s– with all the technology we have today– wiring money would be an absolute breeze. NOT!! I think Abraham Lincoln or Jesse James or anyone who lived a century ago would have had better luck than I did.

My nightmare began when I tried to do this online. Working with computers almost every day and often transacting business at home on the computer, I was fairly confident about wiring the money. However, for some reason when I was just about finished wiring the money, I received a notice that the transaction made on a Sunday night could not be processed. But– a transaction did take place, because $551 was taken from my account (I later found it was placed on hold, because Western Union could not verify my identity).

The money never arrived in New York, and I called Western Union and later my bank about where exactly the money had gone. I could write a book about that experience, but it would not be a western– it would be a horror story. I talked to one person who basically said Western Union did not have the money and there was nothing the company could do. Then she amended that to they could do something (send a notice about the situation to my bank) but it would take up to five days!

I then talked to a manager who finally found a way to send that notice out the next day. (You would think if a company can send money instantly– it could send a notice to a bank the next day.) NOT!! The next day I end up on the phone with three different people from Western Union. One tried to call my small, hometown bank (in the middle of a business day), and after having me on hold for about 10-15 minutes, she came back on and said she could not get through to the correct department. What is so hard about calling a bank and getting the checking department?

By this time, I had already called my bank and was at least assured the money was on hold and not financing some New Yorkers trip to see the “dang” Yankees. However, my bank could do nothing with the money until they received a notice to release it from Western Union.

So, I was back on the phone to two more people who took forever to find my account. By this time– I could have traveled to Fort Knox and received the money in gold!

I talked to numerous people, all who were managers who gave me their name and operator number. Each one promised to send a fax or call my bank and each one failed to do so. When I called back no one was able to find “the managers” and I had to start from the beginning with my long, sad story.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, I talked to a man named Jay, who magically found a way to send a fax and have my money released within an hour. In my e-mails to the company I suggested that Jay be named president of the company, or at least, he deserved a big raise. They apparently shrugged off that comment, along with the one I made about depositing an extra $551 in my checking account to make up for all the stress, minutes used on my cell phone and time away from work– not to mention the extra expense to my daughter.

I do have one remaining question for the powers to be at Western Union– are you sure you shouldn’t just throw out your computers, credit cards, telephones and all the technology of the year 2009 and just drag out the old telegraph machines? They seemed to have worked better for you and for your customers– at least that is how it was in the movies.

That wonderful, funny, scary first day of elementary school

My cousin, Patty Schwartz, sent me a photo of her daughter Danielle boarding the bus on her first day of kindergarten-- 23 years ago. She was all smiles, hair perfectly done and even the bus driver looked happy.

A picuture is worth a thousand words-- the old saying goes, and this photo shows the first day of school can be rough on the student and the adult, as the bus driver looks as tired as Danielle.

With the 2009-10 school year just beginning– I began thinking of what it feels like for a youngster to enter the doors of a school building for the first time as a student.

Can you remember what was going through your head when you were five or six years old and taken away from your parents and family for a day at school? The day probably seemed more like a week at the time. (Did time go slower when we were younger?)

Do you remember what the school looked like? Instead of walking into your little elementary school, it probably seemed like you were attending school at the Empire State Building. (Did things seem bigger when we were younger?)

What did you kindergarten or first-grade teacher look like to you at the time? Did you think she may have been the wife of Methuselah? (Did people look older when we were younger?)

My daughters, Adriana and Ashlee, on one of their first days of elementary school at Heritage Christian School.

Seriously, I remember my first day of school much clearer than I remember the first days of school for any of my four children. My mom drove me from our home in the country to Waynesburg Elementary School in the village. I was not thrilled about going to school and being away from my mom and family. Being the oldest in the family– I had never been to the school, and really had no idea what this education thing was all about.
My mom and I must have been one of the first to arrive in my class, because I don’t remember walking into a classroom of students, nor do I have any recollection of what my teacher looked like, but I do recall a classroom with wooden floors, wooden desks and a huge blackboard (that was black– not green) in the front of the room.

Although I vaguely remember my mother talking to the teacher, the first person I actually recall meeting was Jeannette Miller, one of my classmates. Jeannette was pretty, short and had long dark hair– everything that I thought I was not, but wished I was. (I was tall and skinny, had short brown hair and, as every female can probably relate to– thought everything about my appearance was wrong.)

Nevertheless, I found myself  liking my new classmate, and we quickly became friends. So, when my mom left me for the day, I had already made a friend and was ready to be that independent elementary student.

That is about it for my first day of school. I don’t remember how the rest of the day went, but it must have been a quiet, uneventful one. For the most part my entire educational experience went quite well. I loved school and usually had perfect or almost perfect attendance. I had many dedicated and caring teachers, who I want to write about in a later blog. I had the privilege of developing a  few life-long friendships. Best of all–  I graduated from Sandy Valley High School 12 years later, and I think I was prepared to meet the world. It all started on a September day in 1957, when I spent my first day at Waynesburg Elementary School.

I asked a few of my friends and  family on Facebook to give me their first day of school stories. My sister Carmen Swihart’s hilarious story about her oldest son’s first day of school is one we have often laughed about during family get-togethers. Jason attended St. James School during his elementary years. Of course, being a parochial school, the boys and girls wore uniforms. When Jason returned home from school that first day he said: “Mom you are not going to believe this? Every girl wore the same ugly dress to school today!”

Many years later, Jason’s nephew, Connor, who lives in the state of Washington with his parents,  had his own funny comment upon his recent return from the first day of fourth grade. Connor, who is also the grandson of Ed Swihart of Waynesburg, told his mom Fiona that he has “the best teacher ever” and that he and Ms. Anderson “are on the same page.” (It’s always great when the student and the teacher are on the same page, isn’t it?)

Jane Hefty, my friend from church, said when her youngest son Bradley had his first day of preschool at age 3, he decided an “attractive assortment of brightly colored sorting beads would make a nice addition to one of his facial orifices– his nose.”  Jane continued: “Well, you can imagine the panic when he stuck the thing up there. Long story short, we got it out with a tweezers….to which he promptly replied…..Next time I’ll stick it in my ear! What could one do but laugh!”

Carolyn Johnstone, former resident of the Sandy Valley area, now living in Alaska, said, “How about the little neighbor girl warning our granddaughter about being careful as to which seat she sat on, on the bus. Sometimes the seats are ‘wet’ because the little kids did not go potty before they left their house.”

Nancy Barrett, former guidance counselor at East Canton High School, commented about her son: “The day before Lincoln went to kindergarten, he took a nasty fall and split his forehead open on a piece of rusty angle iron. He went off to kindergarten with 17 stitches in his head and an explanation for the school nurse pinned to his shirt.”

“How bout pants-warming– as in wetting them?” said Michael Lenox, who is married to the former Diane Diehl of the Sandy Valley area. (Not sure if Mike was talking about his own first day of school experience or not?)

What do you remember about your first day of formal education?  I would love to hear your story on this blog.  However, whether funny, heart warming or scary– I hope  it led into a great educational experience– just as mine did.

Tags: School