Wordless Wednesday

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A Very Funny Lady

Day of Days

The American cemetery in Colleville-sur-Mer.

(photo from Yahoo News Canada)

Ever wonder what direction all those crosses and Stars of David point in? It's only one. It's not north...or south...or east...or west, even. No, this isn't a trick question. The white marble crosses and Stars of David that mark the final resting place of our boys all face the same direction...they face home; the land they came from and longed to return to and never did.


"...sitting in stunned silence, we remembered our dead. So many dead. So many maimed. So many bright futures consigned to the ashes of the past. So many dreams lost in the madness that had engulfed us."
E. B. SLEDGE, Co. K, 3rd Bat, 5th Marines, 1st Division, in With the Old Breed

For Our Grandfathers

Out of four grandfathers between me and Goody Two Shoes, three of them were coal miners. Both of Goody Two Shoes grandfathers mined coal in western Maryland and both died from the black lung. My grandfather mined coal up in Gray, Pennsylvania. He also mined clay when there was no work in the coal mine. He got out of the mines and became a farmer.

Henry Johnson(on the left) in the 1940's

Lawrence McKenzie as a dashing young man in 1904

Earl Smith, my Pappy, in 1967, a year before the cancer took him.

I swear, all the years they walked this earth all they did was work.

I recently became aware of a cd by Kathy Mattea called Coal. Giving a listen for ourselves, my wife and I were hooked. Music like this doesn't mean much to some folks. But to people from Appalachia, with coal mining or railroading in their blood, these simple songs speak volumes, because each one comes from the heart and tells a story of a time gone by, and loved ones that have gone on before us.

Here's a video of one of her songs from that cd.


Like the song says...it's dark as a dungeon down in the mine. This is the Seldom Seen Mine in St. Boniface, PA. We're 500 feet below the surface. It was cold, damp, and we were all a little uneasy. It's also the only place I ever felt tall.

Wordless Wednesday

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Doin' Things My Way

I love to go cycling. And I know I'm supposed to wear a helmet. Problem I don't like the looks of most bike helmets. What to do? The answer is easy...make my own. But what to come up with that is practical, functional, and expresses my personality. It's easier than you think.

Start with a basic black skateboarding helmet. Okay, so it has the manufacturers logo smeared all over it. No problem...

A couple of coats of gloss black paint and those logos are long gone.

Add a little striping, some numbers, and a new logo, and new my bike helmet is ready for the trail.

My new helmet got broke in yesterday. Rode from Ohiopyle to Confluence and back. Yeah, I got more than just a few looks.


Steelers Black n' Gold...live it, love it, breathe it, bleed it.

Wordless Wednesday - Sort Of

A man's flower planter. Arrrgh...arrgh...arrgh!


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