Ginger – Our First Border Collie

Ginger - Our First Border CollieMy introduction to Border Collies began when my sister-in-law and her husband got a black and white one, Mac. I couldn’t believe how smart they were. At that time we had two other dogs, Barney and Sam. They were dogs that have stories behind them but intelligence – not much. Well, because Mac was such a handsome specimen, he was called upon for stud service and with that came the offer to my in-laws to pick a pup from the litter. The in-laws were not interested in having another dog but they asked if we wanted one. Well yes – no. We couldn’t make up our minds. When we finally said okay, they only had the runt left. But we still said okay.

The runt was smaller (runts usually are) but also brown and white (not the usual black and white) and also shorthaired, not long and silky. But we were not going to be showing her and beside that she was cute. What she did carry from the breed was – she was SMART!

She had a special kinship with kids that had special needs. She always latched on to any youngster that had a physical or mental need. We always had lots of children coming to visit on the farm so she always had a good time.

One young girl stands out – Susanna. She had Down’s Syndrome. By this time we had named the dog Ginger. Well, she always went right to Susanna when she came. One day (her birthday) we were all eating cake and ice cream when we suddenly saw Ginger with Susanna. One spoonful for Susanna and the next spoonful for Ginger and so that is how the ice cream was eaten. To this day (Ginger is gone and Susanna is in her late twenties) whenever I see her, she always says, “I miss Ginger.”

Ginger was also very protective of small children. I remember one time I had my granddaughter, Trisha, staying overnight. She was about four. At the time, her family was living in Idaho and they were in town for some special reason and I was to keep Trisha overnight. This was her first overnight stay without her parents. Of course she didn’t know me very well because of her living in Idaho, so I wasn’t too sure how she would be. She was going to sleep in our guest room. It had twin beds. I thought she might wake up during the night and would not know where she was, so I thought that I should sleep in the other bed.

Sure enough she woke up during the night and was crying. I got out of bed and went over to her bed. They were antique beds so they were pretty high up. I knelt down so that I would be at her level to comfort her but Ginger wedged herself between me and Trish and when I went to touch her, she growled and snarled and would not let me touch Trisha. My husband came to the rescue and took Ginger out so that I could get to Trisha. Well, to this day, 20+ years later, Ginger is still top dog to Trisha.

I wonder whether Ginger knew that she was not a perfect specimen Border Collie! She had this special gift of understanding. Because of this gift, she was still TOP DOG for us.

— by Jutta Eisele

Honor Tour Trip

Honor Tour Trip – Bill Kurz and Ernie Cohen, MDOn Monday, May 7th, 2018, several hundred Vietnam Veterans departed on the Bucks County Tour of Honor. They filled five large buses and departed from Parx Casino at 6AM. The group reached the World War II Memorial at 9:45AM in DC. Upon exiting the vehicles, they were surrounded by hordes of children of all ages who fought to thank them, congratulate them and shake their hands. The emotions of these kids were obvious, and no doubt reflected values learned at home regarding courage and love of country. The next stop was Arlington Cemetery and then the Air Force Memorial. The final visit was to the very painfully moving Vietnam War Memorial.

The buses then departed Washington, DC, to return home. Upon reaching within miles of the casino, they were joined by hundreds of vehicles whose function was to escort the buses and ensure an open and clear road on I-95. These included hundreds of police cars, firefighting equipment, helicopters and personnel manning the gear.

Each of the many bridges under which the vehicles passed was covered with emergency responders in uniform in full salute to each of the veterans. This final sequence of events on our return was explained by the officials involved in the event. It was to make up for the terrible greetings these veterans received on their return home after the war. Many of us were cursed, spat upon and even our children heard their fathers labeled as “baby killers”. On several occasions, we were told to avoid wearing our uniforms in public to avoid them being defiled. Grateful thanks are due to the many emergency responders for their working throughout the entire event and avoiding any unpleasant incidents. They are dedicated professionals who constitute a great source of pride in living in Bucks County.

None of us who took part in the event will ever forget it.

— By Ernie Cohen, MD and Bill Kurz

Manhattan Sail-Away

Manhattan Sail-AwayAs the Sagafjord sailed from her pier
Skyscrapers caught the sunset.
Helicopters whirred.
The lady of liberty glowed green then gold.
Next to me on deck
a young actor from the ship’s cast
stood clenching his fist.
  “I will star on Broadway,” he vowed.
       “I WILL” The band played.
City lights beckoned,
luring like sultry sirens.
     New York
        … NEW YORK

— by Kay Winters

History and Development of Burpee’s Big Boy Tomato

Burpee TomatoesI joined Burpee in 1954 and worked during the summer months with Jonathan Burpee harvesting Big Boy in a field near what is now Delaware Valley University (Del Val). Two men, Ovid Schifries, PHD and a geneticist, and Ted Torrey, farm manager and plant breeder working at Fordhook Farms in Doylestown, PA, developed Big Boy. They crossed a popular home garden variety with a large male tomato. They grew out the plants, made some selections, grew out and made more selections and then harvested the tomato. Then they grew them out again to make sure that the cross was fixed and “Big Boy” was born! The name, Big Boy, was used when Ovid Schifries said, “Let’s name it Big Boy for Jonathan, who was big for his age.”

Big Boy started a revolution in hybrid tomato development. Big Boy was a big hit and continues to be popular with home gardeners.

— Joe LaTorre

Not My Two Cents

As most of us here at Pine Run are between 65 and Death, I offer these words to live by written by someone else. They appeared in Harry Newton’s daily blog called in “Search of the Perfect Investment”. In these days of fighting political parties, threats of war, guns in schools and all other horrors, I found it calming and insightful. I hope you will also. Let’s be good to ourselves as well others. (Editor’s note: This is a very abridged version of the original article.)

  • Regardless of age, always keep love alive.
    Love your partner, love life, love your family, love your neighbor and remember: “A man is not old as long as he has intelligence and affection.”
  • Be proud, both inside and out.
    Don’t stop going to your hair salon or barber, do your nails, go to the dermatologist and the dentist, keep your perfumes and creams well stocked. When you are well maintained on the inside, it seeps in, making you feel proud and strong.
  • Don’t lose sight of fashion trends for your age, but keep your own sense of style.
    There is nothing worse than an older person trying to wear the current fashion among youngsters. You’ve developed your own sense of what looks good on you – keep it and be proud of it. It’s part of who you are.
  • Don’t abandon your hobbies.
    If you don’t have any, make new ones. You can travel, hike, cook, read, dance. You can adopt a cat or dog, grow a garden, play cards, checkers, dominoes, golf. You can paint, volunteer… or just collect certain items. Find something you like and spend some real time having fun with it. Try not to complain or criticize too much unless you really need to. Try to accept situations as they are. Everyone is going through the same things, and people have a low tolerance for hearing complaints. Always find some good things to say as well.
  • If you have a strong belief, savor it.
    But don’t waste your time trying to convince others. They will make their own choices no matter what you tell them, and it will only bring you frustration. Live your faith and set an example. Live true to your beliefs and let that memory sway them.
  • Laugh, laugh a lot. Laugh at everything.
    Remember, you are one of the lucky ones. You managed to have a life, a long one. Many never get to this age, never get to experience a full life. But you did. So what’s not to laugh about?
  • If you’ve been offended by someone – forgive them.
    If you’ve offended someone – apologize. …It doesn’t matter who was right. …Forgive, forget and move on with your life.

 
Editor’s Note; A long time ago a friend told me there are two rules to a happy marriage: 1. Your wife is always right. 2. In case of an argument, go back to rule #1.

 

— Nancy Lee Rogerson

Our Loyal Eagles Fan!

Pine Run Resident Shirley WunschShirley Wunsch and her husband Al, sitting on a custom “Eagles Helmet Golf Car”. This picture was taken outside their Golf Car business in the late 70’s. Shirley has been a Philadelphia Eagles fan for quite some time. She attended Super Bowl XV in New Orleans, January 1981, when the Eagles lost to the Oakland Raiders. Tickets for the Super Bowl in 1981 were $40.00.

Shirley waited 24 more years to watch Super Bowl XXXIX in Sydney, Australia when again her beloved Eagles lost to the New England Patriots in 2005. She will be rooting on her Eagles once more 13 years later during Super Bowl LII when they square off against the Patriots again. This time, hopefully, she will witness history being made from the comfort of her Pine Run apartment as the Philadelphia Eagles BEAT the New England Patriots!

— Wendy Wunsch Schneider

In the Run

In the Run: Bill KurzWe know a wonderful, loving, special man, who puts the needs of others before himself. That round container that collects food for the less fortunate in this community (it’s across from the concierge desk) is taken weekly to the Baptist Church Food Larder on Butler Avenue, New Britain, by our Villager of the Month of February, Bill Kurz. He has been doing this for 15 years!

Bill likes Pine Run for its food both in the Cafe and at The Cottonwood. He loves looking out on Green Road, experiencing nature: the birds, deer, the lovely view and beautiful woods. We wish him many more happy and healthy years at Pine Run.

— by Elinor Cohen

In the Run

The Windsor Hotel in Cape May, NJ, built in 1879.Our villagers for the month of January, a very special couple, are Lola and Larry Glass. They love Pine Run and we love them. Both contribute their talents to Pine Run. Lola plays the organ at Sunday services and Larry has been Villager Board Treasurer for 18 of the 19 years they have lived here.

Lola was born in Danville, PA. Her mom, Evangeline, taught elementary school and her dad, Earle, was an interior decorator and had a store in Danville. Lola had two sisters, Lorraine and Virginia. St. Peters, their family church, needed an organist and since 15-year-old Lola was already proficient at the piano, the church paid for her to take organ lessons. Lola graduated from Danville High School and enrolled and graduated from Bloomsburg State Teachers College where she majored in elementary education.

But it was after college that life really changed for Lola. Almost like a movie plot, Lola decided she wanted to waitress for the summer at the Windsor Hotel in Cape May, NJ. She had never been to the shore before and her father objected to her going. That didn’t stop her. She met with a family friend, who happened to be the bank president, and borrowed $100 promising to repay the loan as soon as she earned enough to do so. He agreed and promised not to tell her dad.

When Lola arrived at the hotel, the desk clerk, realizing that Lola needed help, offered to drive her to her rented room, a block away from the hotel. This nice, young man continued to look after her. He showed her around Cape May, the beach and the ocean and answered her questions concerning her job and the area. Oh, the young desk clerk was Larry Glass!

Larry GlassLarry was born in Bryn Mawr, PA. His mom was named Salome but called Bunny by family and friends. His dad, Laurence, passed away the year Larry was born so Larry was raised by his mom and maternal grandmother. They believed that Larry should have both a good education and discipline so they enrolled him at the Waldron Academy and Malvern Prep School. Larry graduated in 1947, attended Temple University for one year and then enlisted in the army where he spent four years in the Signal Corps in Communications. He was stationed in Anchorage, Alaska, at Fort Richardson, which housed army training films. Larry was in charge of the Army Central Film Library.

Lola GlassLola and Larry married in the summer of 1953 and they purchased a home in Hatboro. Lola taught first grade at Doylestown Boro School and Larry started as an expediter at Leeds and Northrup Instrument Co. Lola, because of her love of music, attended Westminster Choir College where she became proficient in conducting and teaching choir music. Larry took over his family’s investments as the only son and grandson, and retired from Leeds and Northrup.

The Glasses have three wonderful children, Sandi, Beth, and Larry Jr. When the children were deemed old enough, they began taking family trips in rented Winnebagos. For three summers, they travelled across the U.S., providing, as Lola said, “a memorable family togetherness”. When the children graduated from college, Lola and Larry traveled on their own on Tauck Tours in the U.S. and Europe.

Then, one day, Larry had a life-changing discovery. He learned that he had a sister he had never met, living in France. His father had been previously married but Larry’s mom and grandmother never spoke about it. After the sister’s mom died, she wrote to Larry and that was a new beginning. Lola and Larry became acquainted with his sister Annabel, her husband Rodney, and their family spending three weeks visiting them in France. The Glass family moved from Hatboro to Doylestown in 1963 where they lived for
35 years. Lola was the organist and choir director at Doylestown Methodist Church for 18 years. In 1993, she was asked to fill in as director of the Pine Run Chorus because the chorus leader was leaving. A Christmas program’s success led to Lola being hired as the new director. A chorus of 12 became a well received chorus of 40. A village resident accompanist made it possible for the chorus to accommodate a great variety of guest groups and soloists. Another resident videotaped the programs which were replayed twice the following week on the Pine Run TV channel.

The Glasses moved into Pine Run in 1998. They love their apartment, the folks here, think the food is great and love the location. They love their volunteer jobs and say that moving here was a wise decision. We wish them all the best in their years ahead at Pine Run.

— Elinor Cohen

I Think I Can…I Think I Can

Kay WintersAt first I couldn’t believe it. Yes I knew there was some risk. The doctor said, The lump in your throat has enlarged. Your thyroid will have to come out. I don’t think it’s malignant, but we can’t take a chance. I was scared, but I kept repeating to myself, “It’s not cancer and 90% of the patients are fine.”

I have always been an optimist. Celebrated rainbows, snowflakes, the Spring, sounds of tree frogs. As a child my favorite book was The Little Engine That Could. I wanted to read again and again how against all odds, the little train would chant, I think I can… I think I can, and climb the mountain to get to the other side.

When the dreaded day came and the operation was over, the lump WAS benign. I knew it! I crowed. I had a hoarse and raspy voice like a person making an obscene phone call, but the doctor assured me, my voice would come back.

At home I was glad to snuggle down beneath the patchwork quilt, push back the January gloom with bright blooms, cheerful cards, phone calls, handmade books from children at school, food, wine, and good cheer supplied by close friends who came to support Earl and me. Each morning I would wake and say hello, hello, hoping to hear my voice. Only a sliver of sound came out.

After a month with no improvement, I went back to the doctor. He looked down my throat with a mirror, and shook his head. The nerves are damaged. You have a paralyzed vocal chord. I’m sorry but there’s nothing to be done. You have all the voice you’re going to get.

Earl had to push me out the door. The thought of going back to my job as elementary supervisor in four schools with only a whisper, was mind boggling. I knew my days as a part time college instructor and consultant for the American International Schools had ended.

I tried to be cheerful and brave and have those attributes sunny handicapped people have in movies. On the outside, I smiled, but inside I felt my world had collapsed. Communication was who I was. Now at the store, saying “three pounds of seafood salad” so it could be heard, was almost impossible.

At home, Earl helped me locate a portable microphone, and set it up for me to carry around. At school, staff members reached out in loving ways. Notes in my box, a squeeze on my arm, hugs in the hall, a pot of tulips for my office and the secretary who always said…Oh you sound so much better today. I didn’t. But she helped me to think… maybe…

Nine months passed. No change. Then I met a kindergarten teacher from another district. She also whispered. She had had the same operation. But her whisper was louder and stronger than mine. We compared notes. “Go see Renee Blaker, a speech pathologist from Doylestown. If anyone can help you…she’s the one.” I called Renee the next morning. “I’ll need a doctor’s prescription,” she said. We made an appointment.

The doctor snorted at the idea of speech therapy. It won’t do any good. Waste of time. he said. Teflon surgery would be a better bet. “I want to try,” I insisted. He sighed, and signed the paper reluctantly.

Renee was kind, compassionate, and competent. She heard me whisper, read the doctor’s report, smiled at his negative assessment and said “I have a little magic in my pocket.” She was my kind of person! For the first time I felt a stirring of hope. “I can help you, if you work,” she said. “You need to practice five times a day for 15 minute periods. I’ll see you twice a week.”

The Little Engine That CouldIt was December. As I drove home, the first snowflakes whirled on the windshield and I thought I heard a little voice in my head say… I think I can… I think I can. I started with hard vowels; any, every, each, out, and moved on to phrases; alter the arbor, etch a sketch. Five times a day for 15 minutes I said them week after week. My voice still whispered. However, being able to take some action felt like partial control. I’ve always believed in the power of visualization. Every day while pushing out those phrases, I imagined standing in front of the school auditorium packed with parents, speaking loudly and clearly.

January, February, March… Now I was up to sentences; It’s odd that Arthur’s not at Eileen’s tea. I said so often Earl would sometimes get into bed saying… “It is odd about Arthur.” April, May June… No change. Sentences turned into paragraphs. Still, I practiced. When we sailed on the Chesapeake or Lake Nockamixon, my words wouldn’t carry. The wind would whip my whisper away. Some days, when I went for speech therapy, I just cried. We didn’t do sentences. Renee and I talked. She understood I had to mourn my loss before I could move on. Her staunch belief that I could retrieve my voice gave me courage to continue.

And then it was Labor Day. Time for another school year. Teachers said, “Oh… you sound stronger.” I thought maybe I did, but I wasn’t sure. November. Time to welcome my reading volunteers at the Bridgeton School. The auditorium was full. The audience got very quiet. I picked up the microphone.

“Welcome…” I said… Out came my voice!

I couldn’t believe it. People rushed up to give me a hug. After all that practice… and my mental picture of speaking in public and being heard. It happened! I still had a paralyzed vocal chord but the other one had moved closer and was working for two. I felt as if I got my life back. All that practice, support from my husband, friends, colleagues, and the caring competence of an outstanding speech pathologist paid off.

And maybe some of the credit should go to that © Little Engine That Could …

I think I can … I think I can…

— Kay Winters

In the Run

Richard Michie and ThorA happy-go-lucky guy with a lovable dog. If you’re having a bad day, you instantly feel better in his company. If you’re discussing your aches and pains, you feel better after talking to him. He’s better than Aleve!! Our villager for the month of October is jovial Richard Michie.

Richard was born and raised in a row home on North 18th Street in Philadelphia. Among his early recollections were of his dad, an air-raid warden, and the curtains being closed when the air-raid sirens sounded and to this day, remembers ration books. In the back of his house was an alley where many merchants passed through selling fresh ground horseradish, and other merchants sharpened knives. Richard attended Germantown Friends elementary school. While there, he went on a bus trip to pick milkweed for the war effort.

Sadly, at 8 years of age, his mom passed away. His dad decided to send him to Pennington Prep, a boarding school where he started second grade. His dad frequently visited him, and they often shared dinner together. During summer months, Richard lived with his dad at the Manufacturers’ Country Club in Oreland, and part of the summer went to Camp Lenape in the Poconos. He also spent some time in the summer with his aunts, his dad’s sisters, and grandparents in Jenkintown. Richard attended Pennington Prep until the 6th grade. When he was 13, Richard’s dad remarried. He really got to know his birth mom through many conversations with his stepmother, who had gone to school with his mom. Soon they moved to a home in East Falls, Germantown, near Penn Charter School. Richard continued his schooling there, graduating in 1956.

Having enough sense to know that he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do in the future, he decided to join the Naval Air Reserve, requesting immediate active duty. He went through Bainbridge Maryland Boot Camp, and was assigned to an S2F Squadron in Quonset Point, Rhode Island, serving as an Aviation Storekeeper. Half of his time he spent on land, and half the year he traveled on the Aircraft Carrier, USS Leyte CVS-32. While on ship he was able to visit England, Lisbon, Portugal, Athens Greece, Rhodes, and Gibraltar. After 2 years of active duty, he went into the Inactive Reserve. He started college, originally known as Philadelphia Textile Institute, which became Philadelphia College of Textiles and Science, then Philadelphia University, and now a part of Jefferson. In 1962, he graduated with a degree in Management and Marketing. Afterwards, Richard went into the family business, textile manufacturing, started by his grandfather. Richard was involved in production and plant maintenance. The company, Andrew Y. Michie and Sons, produced textile interlining for the men’s tailored clothing industry. In 1964, the company began manufacturing a replacement for horsehair cloth. The new division of the company became known as Mitchie Textiles, Inc.

Richard has three wonderful children from his first marriage of ten years. The second time around, he decided he only wanted to raise, as he puts it, “four-legged kids”, and started a hobby raising, and showing, Shetland sheepdogs. At the same time, he developed an interest in Jaguar sports cars. Soon he joined a local Jaguar Club where he raced cars, as well as participated in Car shows.

In February, 2016, Richard moved to Pine Run. He loves to walk, and walks his dog, Thor, even in bad weather. Richard loves to eat, and the food here being better than he expected, he does eat! Consequently, like many of us at Pine Run, he has to watch his weight. Richard looks forward to many more years at Pine Run.

— Elinor Cohen