Looking For Fireworks

Looking For Fireworks

My mom and dad’s house was situated halfway between the two small towns of Normalville and Indian Head, Pennsylvania. Both towns have volunteer fire departments because they are in different townships. Often they give each other back up for fires, accidents, or rescues. Both have street fairs where they sell food and have games to earn money for day to day operations of the departments, to buy new equipment, and for the upkeep of equipment and the buildings.

Each fire company held their street fairs on different weeks so they would not compete for customers. Every night there was some type of entertainment provided as well as offerings of food, beverages, and games of chance where players could win prizes or money. All of it was designed to entice people to come and to spend their money.

The foods offered were pizza, French fries, hot dogs, hamburgers, and funnel cakes. All sorts of sodas and strong coffee werethe drinks sold. A small carnival company would set up to offer rides for the children. Miniature cars and trucks that ran in a circle, a Ferris wheel, and a swing ride were the usual offerings. They also had booths that sold caramel apples, popcorn, and cotton candy and booths of ball toss, ring toss, and darts.

We had gone earlier in the week and my dad Carl said that we weren’t going the last night of the fair. The last night was the night the fire department set off the fireworks display.

When we heard the first few dull booms from the explosions from the rockets, being a fireworks lover, Dad couldn’t resist and went upstairs to the bedrooms to look. He was hoping he might glimpse some of the displays over the tops of the trees. The fireworks were only two miles away, he could hear the explosions. He surely should be able to see something.

It wasn’t very long until we heard a “Thump. Thump. Thump.”

Sybil Miner Beck, my mom said, “Kids, your dad is stomping on the floor. He must want us to go upstairs to see the fireworks. Let’s go before he gets upset with us.”

We left the family room and went into the living room. There at the bottom of the wooden stairs, Dad lay in a crumpled heap on his back and his butt. Dad had slipped and fallen.

What caused Dad to fall happened earlier in the day. My mom told my sister, Kathy to dust the steps and the living room furniture. Instead of doing the steps first with a clean dry cloth, she dusted the furniture with Pledge, and then wiped down the stairs. Pledge coated the steps with wax and had made the stairs treads slippery.

When Dad went upstairs, he was wearing socks on his feet. When he came down, the socks lost traction and his feet flew out from under him. He skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Only his pride was hurt.

Once we knew he was okay, we hurried out of the room to laugh. If he would have seen us even snicker the real fireworks would have started and we would have been in so much trouble.

Now Serving Watered Down Scotch

 Serving Watered Down Scotch

My wife Cindy Morrison Beck’s heritage was Scottish and I’m so thankful she’s no longer alive to see what is happening today. America’s Scotch/Irish forefathers fought, settled, and died for the land here in southwestern Pennsylvania against dangerous beasts, venomous serpents, inclement weather, indigenous people intent on destroying them, and often defying Great Britain’s kings. They carved their homes and farms out of a wilderness. Their safe places were called forts that were little more than bastions from which to fight. They built churches as sanctuaries to worship God as they chose, often ignoring restrictive decrees from their leaders.

They were not independence seeking people, they were just everyday folk who wanted to be left alone to raise their family and to create ways to make a living. They didn’t care that the king wore a wig, carried a snuff box, or sported high heels and stockings; they were too concerned with living from one day to the next.

With today’s men, the Scotsman’s kilt has been exchanged for a skirt, the sporran has been traded for a purse, stockings substituted for hose, and they’ve replaced their Ghillie brogues to wear the king’s high heels.

They’ve given away their God given rights to assemble and worship as they please. They are tracing their rights to bear arms for protection of self, family, property, and yes, even when freedom and liberty itself are taken away. They’re yielding their right of free speech and allowing pedophiles and mentally ill people to gain positions of power and influence.

As America‘s leaders become distanced from their people, they lose touch with reality just as King Rehoboam of Israel and as did King George of England when their subjects finally had enough and revolted. It’s becoming the same today with politicians in Washington DC. The elected officials in Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, and Harrisburg Pennsylvania believe they know what’s best, being fed the tainted view from cronies that surround them. They choose to make distorted and disastrous decisions. The voice of the general populace is being overridden by the Liberal media and self-aggrandizing sycophants.

They allow rioters and looters to ravage homes, businesses, and cities seemingly unaware and not caring about those who are injured and killed. They repeatedly attack our bastions of freedom, our rights, and the U.S. Constitution. They feel that it is their right to offer “safety” at the cost of increasing taxes and the destruction of the foundation for our liberty; the Constitution, the Bible and our ability to freely worship together. They are waging an all-out assault against our homes and families.

Gird yourselves with your kilts. Open your Bibles. Lift your claymores and stand firm against all encroaching evil.

Scents and Sensibilities

 Scents and Sensibilities

While I was tidying up the house again, I saw something that has been there for quite some time. It just became another part of the ordinary things that make up my house. (For those in southwest Pennsylvania, I was doing some redding up.) In a basket in my downstairs powder room, there is a bisque scent ball. It’s almost the size of a tennis ball. Its flat bottom had a small plastic plug and the top sported several small holes like a salt or pepper shaker. It was a pomander ball that was made to hold perfumed body powder and slowly release the scent over many months much like the electric room fresheners of today. Its smooth white surface has a several roses of pale pink with stems and green leaves. It sports a shiny braided gold thread through two of the holes on the top. The cord allows it to be hung in a closet or in an unobtrusive corner of a room. The “Wedgewood” brand and “Made in England” is stamped in pale green print to form a semicircle on the base.

This inexpensive little piece of clay holds a precious memory for me. Either for our first or second Christmas together, I bought it for my wife Cindy Morrison Beck. Neither of us had much money. She’d just graduated from California State University and I was a recent Penn State graduate. We’d just bought an acre of land and set up housekeeping in a used mobile home. The land was undeveloped and had to be prepared by scraping out a pad for the trailer and for the driveway. The trailer was towed from Casparis near Connellsville to our lot just outside of Normalville, Pennsylvania. We had to have the electric, telephone, and septic systems installed. Keeping ahead of the bills and paying the mortgage ate up much of our money.

I can’t recall whether I bought the ceramic ball from a mail order catalog or one of the party circuits selling knickknacks, but I thought it was a cute item. I even filled it with some of the bath powder Cindy used. It wasn’t a practical gift and that may be why it has lasted so long. I know Cindy stored it in her lingerie drawer for many years scenting her underclothing. Believe it or not, the ball has still retained a soft scent from the powder dumped inside over forty years ago. I just checked it and the scent is still potent.

The Ever Changing Climate

 The Ever Changing Climate

As much as I dislike the cold and snow now behind us, God has designed the change of seasons to suit Him. He didn’t consult me or things of this world would be really messed up. I don’t like the heat and humidity either, so I would be left with a world that would be quite boring. It would be not too hot, not too cold. There wouldn’t be any storms either but that isn’t the way God created the Earth. His Word says there will be seasons; a time for sowing and a time of reaping. Genesis 8:22 says, “While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.”

He describes cold, hoarfrost, and snow. Psalm 147:16-17, “He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes. He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who can stand before his cold?”

God describes the earth as a sphere much to the chagrin of the flat-earthers. Isaiah 40:22, “It is he that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers; that stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in:” He lays out the details of the cycle of water from the oceans to the clouds, then rain that flows down in rivers. Job 36:27, 28, “For he maketh small the drops of water: they pour down rain according to the vapour thereof: which the clouds do drop and distil upon man abundantly”

God appoints the sun to rule by day and moon and stars to rule the night, Psalms 136:7-9. Like a fine tuned watch He hung heavenly bodies in space and causeding them to orbit in a graceful ballet. He calls them by name, Psalm 147:4

By His voice God created the universe and all that’s within it. The precision of His creation is seen everywhere. “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth his handywork.” Psalm 19:1. Even the atom was known. “Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God, so that things which are seen were not made of things which do.” Hebrews 11:3 

Each part of His creation was specifically designed by Him to replicate itself. Each strand of DNA tells what a creature or plant will be. His Word shares that he made two sexes. “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.” Genesis 1:27

Foolishly mankind looks for answers everywhere but where the truth’s been plainly written for them thousands of years ago.

The Aftermath Classes

 The Aftermath Classes

I was asked to give a brief summary of my life after nursing school, my uniform, hat, and place that I worked. The following is what I wrote and I will use it today as my post. After I graduated from Connellsville Senior High School in 1967, I worked at a valve-making factory in South Greensburg, Pennsylvania called Walworth Company until I joined the Navy in 1968. Basic training, corps school, stationed in Orlando, Florida, then in Keflavik, Iceland before discharge. I got “early outs” to attend Pennsylvania State University in the nursing program, knocking off the four year BSN degree in three years, graduating in 1976.

The uniforms for the men were navy blue slacks and a white uniform top with the initials PSU embroidered on the pocket. Men didn’t have a cap to wear, but the women’s cap looked like a Melita coffee filter with a navy blue ribbon band, however that did not stop the females from harassing me. One day in clinical, the women revolted, went to the kitchen and attached an industrial sized coffee filter to my head with bobby pins. (I actually had thick hair then.) Our clinical was in an elderly care home, the old people loved it, and so I wore it the rest of the day. When I returned for the next clinical, I wasn’t wearing “my cap” and the women burses remembered and asked where mt cap was.I finally told them that “it was dirty. You know, I washed it and it fell apart.” They laughed and it was smooth sailing after that.

I received my degree in 1976 and was married shortly after that. My first job was at Monsour Hospital in Jeanette, but soon after found employment at H. C. Frick Hospital in Mt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania. It was much closer and a more friendly atmosphere.

The first three years at Frick, I worked the 11-7 shift, where people go grump in the night. The next five years I was blessed with working in the emergency department with some wonderful physicians and other nurses. The rest of my career there before retiring after thirty-four years, I was blessed/ cursed with the position of a nursing supervisor and responsible for the entire hospital, working the off shifts and every other weekend.

Kiddie Land

 Kiddie Land

Who can remember from their days of childhood going to Idlewild Park with their parents bouncing with excitement as they headed toward Kiddie Land? There at entrance were two stone clad pillars and two steps down into the enchanted area of rides for children. A large placard clown wearing white costume, ruffled neck collar, a red nose, holding a bass drum that welcomed kids to this section of the park reserved just for children. Child sized, scaled down amusement rides that were similar to adult versions awaited. Near the entrance was a sleek white and silver electric bus or trolley that ran in a circle on tracks. Close by was a smaller version of a Ferris wheel with caged cars that lifted riders up and over the top, moving much slower than the adult ride.

There was a glossy green turtle that rolled up and down while traveling in a circle with several kids on its back. Another ride was miniature cars that circled on a wooden track, most cars were painted red with bright yellow steering wheels. They spun, but didn’t guide the cars. A fake pony pulling a small cart that barely wide enough for two, maybe three kids; its leather reins held by kids as the ponies rose up and down.

A bevy of boats with room for two kids in the front and two in the back moved through a shallow circular pond. Steering wheels in the boats kept little hands busy and out of the water as “motor boats” hummed along.

Kids had to be fastened into the “”airplanes” hanging from chains. The children pilots again had steering wheels, but an added attraction was the machine guns attached to the fuselage for the front pilots. The breeze as the planes whirled “air born” in a circle actually made the kid feel like he was flying.

But my favorite ride of all was the kiddie car ride. These carts drove along on tracks through a shady twisting two rail track. Each cart had a cranking gear that attached to wheels beneath the cart. The faster a child turned the crank, the faster the cart went. Sometimes the carts would jump the track when a larger kid was showing his or her strength. They would also move up behind a slower moving cart and assist it into moving faster.

 When there was a clear stretch of track close to the attendant at the finish line, a kid could with several quick pumps build up speed. The cart would almost bowl over the attendant trying to stop the hurtling cart with a stiff leg and a foot.

Ah, what memories.

Observations

Observations

Our Pastor Haasz took ill on Friday and Joshua our summer intern had to host and speak for the closing ceremonies of this year’s Vacation Bible School. I didn’t get to see or hear the closing message or the final skit. I was part of the scullery crew in the kitchen providing snacks for the kids who attended.

Our theme was nautical having the idea of “Sailing with Joy” and having Jesus as our Captain. As usual, Friday is a time for relatives of the kids to come and join in the festivities. Our gym is filled with games of skill for adults and for the youth in a carnival atmosphere, still having a nautical theme. Then folks are directed to the Fellowship Hall for snacks. Cookies, Ice cream Sundaes, fruit cups, drinks, and one of the yearly favorites- finger Jell-o was served.

Saturday evening my family gathered around a campfire to make mountain pies. The flavors available were Reuben sandwiches, pizza, and ham and cheese flavored pies. We had cherry pie filling for making dessert pies, but after the browned marshmallow and S’mores we were too full to open the cans of pie filling.

The rain held off and we had a wonderful evening of talking, laughing, and retelling off stories in celebration of Father’s Day.

Pastor was still ill Sunday morning and our intern filled in. He already was to have presented the morning message, so it came as no great surprise that he would be relied upon for the message. I was part of the male members of the choir to sing a version of a hymn “Stand Up for Jesus.” It was updated and stanzas rewritten by our pianist and choir director and our summer intern.

Sunday evening Pastor was still under the weather and our intern was again called upon to fill in. Joshua’s message was about the times of fear when the disciples were faced with the storms while they were sailing on the Sea of Galilee. The wind and waves surrounded by the darkness of the evening and the depth of the storms. He spoke of the need to rely on Christ in all things, but especially in times that we have fears.

He took the story from the book of Mark 4:35-41. While he read the passages, I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before. There were “other little ships” on the sea as well. I am curious. What happened to them? They faced the same storm. But they didn’t have Jesus with them. How did they deal with their fears? How do we deal with fear and do we share the need for Jesus with the “other little boats” that are around us each day, also caught in the storms of life?