A Brush with Fame

We all agreed  this piece was one of the best Ken has written after he read it in class on Wednesday.   Coming from the marketing and advertising world, Ken was train to keep things brief and to the point so it was a challenge to give more details and expand the story.  Wonderful to see such progress in a residents accomplishment.

                              Meeting Robert James Waller

Sometime in the early 1990's my wife, Mary and I heard about a get-together that was going to be held at a small hotel in New York City with the author of  The Bridges of Madison County  Robert James Waller.  We were living in the city so it was easy to get to the hotel where the meeting was held.  I thought at first it as going to be a book signing, as his 1992 book was a big hit and a movie was made from it.  We both loved the book and couldn't wait to meet him.  Fortunately, the meeting turned out to be much more than a book signing.

The entrance to the hotel in Manhattan was somewhat underwhelming and the room for the meeting was even more so.  With seats for only 30 or 40, it was small, dark and low-ceilinged.  You had to call for reservations so I guess they knew that only a few  of us were coming, and they were right.  It was a cold, blustery night and I guess not too many folks wanted to venture out to meet an unknown author.

As far as I knew, this was his first book and while it was on the NYT bestseller list, some of the critics were rather harsh in their criticism of Waller's writing style.  Janet Maslin criticized the "vapidity of the material" in her overall praise of the movie, but the public loved the book and the movie.  As the audience started to arrive it seemed to be mad up of residents of Greenwich Village more than highbrows from the Upper East Side.  I really didn't know what to expect, but I probably expected more of a chic-flic audience than the Village folk.

Being one of the first there, we sat near the front on metal chairs 8 in a row with an aisle down the middle.  A hotel podium was on the left in front of us and a 15' movie screen took up the rest of the front of the room.  The rest of the audience were scattered among the remaining 5 or 6 rows behind us.  If I was Waller, I would have been disappointed in the turnout, but given the weather and the hotel I guess it was to be expected.

Around 8 pm he wandered in, tall, lanky and quiet.  A big man.  Raw-boned.  Not what I expected at all.  He wore a cowboy hat and cowboy boots, a dark shirt and dungarees with orange suspenders and a big cowboy belt buckle.  He carried a guitar and a Nikon F-2 camera.  He looked the part of the main character in his book, Robert Kincaid. He shook hands, shyly, as he moved to the front of the room.

He began to decribe himself.  He described his schooling and life prior to writing "Bridges."  Seems he was an academic and not one in the arts or literature fields.  He was a financial guy, of all things! But besides that, he was a photographer, and he showed us several of his photography projects. Now, I know a bit about amateur photography and he is good!  He then said he did a bit of guitar playing and composing and he played and sang several of his songs and they were great!  I bought a CD after the show and still play it regularly.  He told us how the CD got produced and it was a fascinating tale of talent and serendipity coming together to make a thing real beauty.

So here we were expecting to hear an author talk about writing his bestselling book and for the first house he just entertained us with his other talents.  I don't remember much about his talk about the book itself, but the scene he set with his manner and his clothes and his singing and pictures, left me with a memory that is as clear as yester day.  What a wonderful evening...

I've bought every one of his books and was never disappointed.

Ken Wright, January 8, 2018     

Descriptions of a snowy day at Plush Mills

We've had quite a bit of snow this winter and many of the residents have wonderful views of the hills surrounding Plush Mills.  Even though we are situated in the midst of a bustling suburbs wooded areas a parks are woven into the landscape providing a habitat for deer, fox, rabbit, and hawk. Joann is a great observer and recorder of the creatures that visit us. 

I had just come home yesterday from a shopping excursion at the Acme Market in Media, PA.  The scenery on the way and back was exceptionally beautiful on that sunlit day.

When I returned home to put away my groceries and other shopping items I had bought I ventured into my bedroom and looked out the window.  There were about 10 or 12 large animal footprints in the snow of the yard below.  I wondered what type of footprints they could have been.  Maybe a large dog walked into the yard or another kind of animal.  I call it the wonders of winter.

JoAnn Petrovitch

A long drive and a bottle of perfume

Ken described his grandfather as a quiet and unassuming man.  However, in his younger days he certainly knew how to pursue a romantic interest.


                               Alfred Jay meets Emma Dresher
Alfred Jay was my mother’s father. He met his wife in an unusual way. It all started when Emma Dresher, a wealthy, young woman from the small town of Ringtown in the coal region in central Pennsylvania, came to Philly to shop for her Easter finery.
She always shopped at Wanamaker’s - it was the best, she felt.

While shopping this day she discovered a perfume she particularly liked, but they were out-of-stock. She was a good customer, so the clerk said he would hold some for her when it came in.

Nearby was Grandpop Jay. He was a window dresser at Wanamaker’s at the time and he overheard the conversation about the perfume.
“I’ll bring it to you,” he said, walking up to Emma and the clerk.
“But it is miles away in Ringtown,” Emma said, smiling at him.
“That’s no problem,” Grandpop said. “I always wanted to see that part of the State.”

And he did. And they were married just one year later…

Ken Wright

Generosity from Generation to Generation

The following story from Eleanor is indicative of many of her family stories about people caring for others and helping beyond expectations.  

The year is 1967.  Sam, my husband, an engineer, is being driven to the New Delhi airport for his return trip to the USA after a stay in India to put into operation a chemical fertilizer plant his company built for the Indian government.  He and the cab driver, Paresh, engage in light conversation.  Sam expresses his desire to return home, as his third child is about to be born. Paresh relates that his wife, also, was expecting their first child.  Living in a remote area, and working in the city to support his wife, the taxi driver was hoping to return home for the big event of his first child's birth.  The similarities of their circumstances touch Sam, and upon arrival at the airport  he gives Paresh a sizable tip.  Paresh is thrilled and begins jumping up and down, for this enables him to return home for the big event.

Watching our new daughter, Lynn, grow up, we often thought of the child in India and how he or she fared.  Lynn was afforded the opportunity of attending the best colleges and launched a career of her own.

Shortly after her father's passing, Lynn was returning from a business trip and being driven to the airport.  The cab driver told her his wife in India was expecting their first child and he was working long hours to support her and to be able to return for the birth.  In that instant, Lynn felt her father's presence in that cab.  Needless to say, the tip was sizable.

Eleanor Bongiorno
   

A December Tribute

Joann wrote a lovely piece about this month that paints a picture.  This is really not a wonder as Joann is also an artist and painter.   She stays very active at Plush Mills and has had a great 2017.   

              The Beautiful Renewal of December's Winter Season

Here we are at the end of December already after the beautiful Christmas holiday.  We received  a winter wonderland the Lord send us to enjoy.

How bountiful are the Lords Blessings for the Christmas Seasons and the end of the year!

I saw another fox run across the top of my hillside one afternoon while looking or glancing rather to the left of my living room.  He was pretty long - from the nose, which was hite again, to his white tail.  He seemed a darker color than last time; maybe dark brown or orange.

For Christmas Day I went to my brother's house in Wallingford, where Dale, Doreen, Daniel, and Samuel live.  We joyfully celebrated the Christmas holiday on December 25th 2017.

We exchanged our gifts we had for one another including a happy celebration of eating dinner together and our conversations about various things.  Dale mentioned how thankful we should be for doing as well as we are doing.  There never was a truer statement.

The Christmas tree in the corner, decorated by Doreen, Dale's wife of many years now was beautiful.  The love we enjoyed between one another as a family while exchanging gifts and the big gold balls on the tree seemed to radiate God's love for us, as well as for others remember the birthday of his son Jesus!

Our church services were also a great blessing to me this year of 2017.  They seem to give us rest and renew our spirits for the coming year of 2018- just around the corner this Sunday January 1st.

 JoAnn Petrovitch   

Italian Roots

Eleanor started this piece about her father during a writer's workshop session and read it to us after she wrote it.  One of the most enjoyable aspects of leading the group is hearing these stories read by the authors themselves.  As a group they provide respectful and important feedback to each other. 

                                      A Gentle Giant

                                               By Eleanor Bongiorno

     I recall my father as a strong, kind man who, despite numerous adversities, achieved much in his lifetime.

     The second oldest in his family, he was born in Italy.  His older brother died  of a childhood illness.

     He, age 7, his parents and younger siblings immigrated to the United Staes where, after learning English, he attended a one-room schoolhouse in the Pittsburgh area.  My grandfather worked the coal mines and the family lived in the "company house" and shopped in the "company stores."

     At age 14, because of economic necessity, my father left school to join my grandfather working in the coal mines.  Seeking a better future, the family migrated to New Jersey to work in the textile industry.

     My mom and dad were married in October, 1929, just before the beginning of the infamous Great Depression.

     They lost my younger sister in infancy.

     Though lacking in formal education, my dad read, and absorbed all he could.  I recall him reading poetry to me and my brother.

     When a failing textile business emerged, he seized the opprotunity, purchased it and truned it into a successful business.

     I will always be proud of his accomplishments in achieving the American dream. 

Thanksgiving: a time to remember grandparents

      Thanksgiving Story About My Relatives and Grandparents

                                                By Joann Petrovitch

     Mr. Hans E. Solum was my mother's father and lived in Marcus Hook, PA.  He was originally from Wisconsin and was from a Swedish and Norwegian background.

     He raised four children: three boys, Oliver, Eddie, and David and my mother Pauline.  He used to take them for a ride in a little red wagon like they still have today.  Every now and then one child would fall off the back and he would stop and pick them up.

     He met his wife, Mae, in Ocean City Maryland selling crabs at a crab stand.  Mrs. Solum was a good seamstress and hat maker, made all her dresses, and made and decorated hats for John Wannamakers.

     Mr. Solum worked at the American Viscoe in Marcus Hook, PA; he often called it the silk mill.

He loved children and was asked to be Santa Claus one year at, I believe, Wannamakers. Hans had a straight nose like Santa, blue eyes, and a happy face, his natural expression.  He refused the job because he said he could never give all those little children the presents he promised them because he couldn't afford it.

     One Saturday as I was driving down Faulk Road with my mother, she told me that her father would go into a wooden barn like structure in Boothwyn that we had passed on the left side of the road.  That was the place where he shoed horses.  Then we continued on down Faulk Road, a country road not far from here, sometimes singing "Over the River and through the Wood."   The same familiar Thanksgiving song many people enjoy at this time of year, just a week away.

     My uncle Eddie and Aunt Ruth lived farther down Faulk road and my mom, her mother and father the Solums often stopped and visited them.  We did this even when I was a school girl.  My two cousins, Eddie and Jane, also lived at the Early American style home their father, Uncle Ed,  built years ago.  The adults have long passed on, but Jane and Eddie are still living.  Jane lives in Maryland with her husband, Terry Innenmanne a former state trooper of Delaware.  Eddie lives in Delaware with his wife Susan.

     One memory my brother, Dale, mentioned at his last visit here to see me at Plush Mills was that Mr. Solum could bend a ten penny horseshoe nail between his index finger and thumb.  He was a strong Swedish man, my mother's father my grandfather.