Tuesday, February 25, 2020

Hopefully not the death of a small town theater...





I wrote earlier today on Facebook surrounding the negative situation

the Wellsville N.Y. hometown theater is in. At the same time I contacted

the owners by email at their web page suggesting the following,

and I hope you do the same;

*bring back some older films for us seasoned folks...the great westerns,

mix it up with some comedy, Jack Benny, Stan and Ollie, the Three

Stooges...bring us back the great Sci Fi films of the sixties, the Birds,

Universal Monsters, War of the Worlds, the list goes on and on and on.

Tie the films maybe a couple of times a month with a dress-up look

alike contest with the film such as come - as Sherlock Holmes, etc, etc.

Older people will come back to the movie house to see these classics on

the big screen. Leave the Disney stuff and other younger targeted films

for other weekends..this idea is in operation around the country.


No one wants the Wellsville theatrer to go away... it's part of the tapestry

of Wellsville and Allegany County in New York.

Some times you just have to be creative at your venue in order to

survive.... let's hope this and other creative thinking can  give them a

boost.  Pass it on.  SS

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Mary Pritchard...finally at home in Morgantown





   Is it possible to be 'drawn' to a certain place? Can your 'sixth sense' take

over and actually lead you to a place where you are supposed to be?

It does seem so.  Mary Pritchard found that out upon her retirement...drawn to

a place, and actually to a time that she had experienced before. Mary did find

that perfect retirement home....in Morgantown. It's chapter 4, 'The Mason's mark'

one of 28 stories to be found in Tales Unleashed. 



The Mason’s Mark
Mary Pritchard had always wanted to live in a nice quiet home, one with a front yard, perhaps a porch, maybe even a large dining room. But as a youngster in the 1950's, she had little choice about where she would be. Her mother had passed when she was a very young girl.
Mary possessed the one and only doll that her mother had gifted her on her fourth birthday. Soon after that, with her mother’s passing, she would have to go live with her Aunt Trudy, her only known relative. Mary’s father Miles had also passed away very tragically while on a job near their home in Morgantown. Miles was a master mason . . . a bricklayer, if you will. His work was beyond compare and Miles had helped build dozens of homes that were the envy of all who viewed them.
As Mary neared her retirement age, the call of returning to Morgantown kept coming to mind. And so, a year before retiring, Mary contacted a number of real estate agents in the Morgantown area to arrange to look at some homes there. By email, Mary finally had two or three very nice homes to look at . . . and her excitement grew as she marked two walk-throughs on her calendar, scheduled on the same weekend.
Meeting the local agent at a small friendly coffee spot in Morgantown, Mary looked at the information about the two homes that the agent had laid out in front of her. Both were well-kept homes, in nice neighborhoods, and each offered the right accommodations for someone soon to retire. But there was something about 151 Spruce Street that drew Mary’s attention more than the other property. The front yard was small and easily maintained, a nicely decorated porch graced the front, and the home was entirely made of brick. It weathered well over the years and had been maintained beautifully by its previous owners.
That same afternoon the real estate gal drove Mary to 151 Spruce. My, it was a lovely home, and even had a picket fence!
“The price is a bit high,” Mary exclaimed to the agent as they made their way up the front walk. “Do you think they might come down a bit?” The agent assured her she would see what could be done if Mary decided she wanted to buy. The agent gave Mary the quick tour . . . guiding her along the way from room to room and pointing out the amenities as they went.
“I must show the basement,” said the agent. “It has a new furnace, new water heater, cement floor, and it’s completely dry!”
As the two descended the ten short steps down, Mary felt a warm sensation, as if someone was welcoming her to this place. Yet she had never been in this house before. She was sure of that.
As the two gals chatted back and forth, Mary made her way to the straight and square red chimney on the west side of the basement. Old it was, but showed no signs of wear or deterioration. Two bricks up from the basement floor, Mary spotted an irregularity on one brick’s surface. Squatting down and brushing the dust from the brick she read, MJP, 9-’50. As she touched the brick a second time, a wave of exhilaration came over her. She knew then and there that her father Miles James Pritchard had helped build this house, presumably in September of 1950.
She stood up, turned with tears in her eyes, and said, “I’m home, I’ll have a check in full for you tomorrow.”
After more than fifty years, Mary had come home to Morgantown . . . not just a home, but a home that her father had helped to build for her. A better retirement gift, no one could ever have asked for.

Tuesday, February 11, 2020

Kobe and daughter laid to rest...





There was very little information about the final disposition of Kobe

Bryant and his daughter Gianna. It was totally private for family

members only.

A very sad day, not only for his family but for the families of the others

lost that day as well.

Kobe Bean Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter Gianna have been laid to rest
 in a private family service two weeks after their deaths in a helicopter crash.
The funeral service was held quietly on Friday at Pacific View Memorial Park in 
Corona del Mar, California with no photographers present.
Information about the ceremony was revealed in death certificates issued by 
the County of Los Angeles Department of Public Health, which listed burial
 as the type of disposition for both Bryant and Gianna.
The certificates listed the causes of death as blunt trauma and indicated that 
they died in a 'rapid' manner in the January 26 crash in the hills of Calabasas.
(just a note from me here; I've never seen 'rapid' manner on a death
certificate....this may be language used in the state of California..but you
most likely would see sudden death listed on a New York certificate

Sunday, February 2, 2020

The loss of Buddy Holly, part 5






This is part five, and the last installment on that horrific crash on Feb.
3rd, 1959. If you missed any of the parts in this series, you can simply
scroll down to view them.  I hope you enjoyed the read....the events
are part of rock and roll history....and each year they continue to fade
into the fabric of time itself.


conclusions on the crash…

Before the NTSB, there was the Civil Aeronautics Board (CAB).  They were the official
agency in charge of investigating the who, what and why of the Holly plane crash.
The post crash investigation at the scene came to no immediate conclusions. The
instrumentation all appeared normal with gauges and readings in their acceptable
parameters.  The engine gave no clues to mechanical failure or loss of power, the
propeller hub upon inspection proved the engine was performing normally at the
point of impact.

There was no part or parts of the wing, or moveable control surfaces
 found far away from the aircraft that might indicate an early departure from the fuselage  before the crash. Upon reviewing the autopsy report of pilot Roger Peterson, nothing remarkable was found that would indicate a medical emergency that would affect his flying senses or motor functions.
His injuries as the other victims were of mass trauma including the head and brain.
The young pilot Peterson was certified to operate under visual flight rules; i.e.
you need to be able to SEE where you are going. On that particular night, the lack of
a good horizon, low clouds, minimal amount of ground lights in the little populated area
would all make for poor visual flying.  To my knowledge the CAB never attempted
 to calculate the final weight of the aircraft with its’ passengers,
fuel and luggage.. if the aircraft was overloaded and the center of gravity was
compromised the plane would be severely challenged to fly correctly.

The CAB in Sept. of 1959 said the following about the crash, quote:

‘At night, with an overcast sky, snow falling, no definite horizon and a proposed
flight over a sparsely settled area with an absence of ground lights, a requirement
for control of the aircraft solely by reference to flight instruments can be
predicted with virtual certainty. The board concludes that Pilot Peterson was
confronted with this situation. Because of fluctuation of the rate instruments
caused by gusty winds he would have been forced to concentrate and rely
greatly on the attitude gyro, an instrument with which he was not completely
familiar. The pitch display of this instrument is the reverse of the instrument
he was accustomed to; therefore, he could have been confused and thought
that he was making a climbing turn when in reality he was making a
descending turn. The weather briefing supplied to the pilot was seriously
inadequate in that it failed to even mention adverse flying conditions which
should have been highlighted.’

 In 2015, the NTSB, who succeeded the CAB had considered re-opening the crash investigation. That was proposed by a pilot L.J. Coon, who felt the first conclusions were not correct.
He thought a possible right rudder failure, fuel readings and that improper weight
distribution as mentioned above could be involved. Coon also thought that Peterson
may have tried to land the aircraft, a distinct possibility, and that his efforts should
be noted in the official record. The NTSB in 2016 considered re-opening the
investigation into the crash, but it never happened. And there you have it.

 There are rumors the plane still exists…..and that the Dwyer family has at
least part of it hidden away.

Within the past two years I tried to contact Mrs. Dwyer to ask about the location of
the remains of the airplane, but I never received any answer from her or
her family. (Jerry and Barb Dwyer, were the owners of the airplane.)


Jerry Dwyer passed away in Clear Lake in January 2016. He was writing a book
about the whole affair…his wife has stated she will continue and eventually
finish the book in his memory and honor.

February 3rd, 1959, a date forever etched in rock and roll history.