A moment of mourning for Dana

Dana Faulk

A couple days ago, Dana Faulk, 55 was at a red light when the driver behind him began revving his engine and honking his horn, and yelling out the window.  He didn't think Dana was close enough to the traffic light.

A passenger in Dana's car said Dana was confused and didn't understand why the man behind him was yelling "to drive the %$#@^* up".

Dana ignored him, and when the light turned green proceeded to drive slowly on Corliss Street, a single lane road in each direction.  The driver behind him, Joel Ingram, 41 waited until there was no oncoming vehicles then drove up alongside Dana and shot him in the head, killing Dana instantly.  He then sped off.

Thanks to surveillance cameras at the location and various witnesses, police located Ingram at a gas station an hour later and arrested him.

Joel did not have a license for the gun he was carrying, and several people said he announced his intentions at the traffic light--what he was going to do to Dana once he caught up to him.  A legal expert said those threats could be used by the prosecution to charge him with first degree murder.

Joel Ingram, one less monster on the road

This local news story really struck a nerve with me.  He took Dana's life so casually, and in the process has probably thrown away his own.  Of course most of us have tempers too.  But to do what this man did--shoot and kill an innocent man for some perceived slight--his reasons are truly lost on me.  

This takes me back to 2009, when I was in a similar situation.  I was driving back to Pittsburgh one Sunday evening, after spending the day at my sister Shawn's house.  (Shawn, her husband Jim and my niece Sophia live 65 miles south of me.)

I always got on I-79 North, rode it for an hour to the Emsworth/Sewickley Exit, then another 15 minutes on Route 65 aka Ohio River Boulevard, first to Emsworth then to my neighborhood Avalon.

(Route 65 is jokingly known as a speed trap by locals.  The Avalon police seem to patrol it pretty well, especially on the weekends.)

So this one Sunday I turn off I-79, take the exit and as soon as I pull onto 65 a car pulls up behind me.  He gunned his engine a couple times--I knew he wanted me to speed up but I was sticking to the speed limit.  

Now he was getting angry and was on my tail, right on it.  He also had his high beams on and was honking his horn.  This went on for over a mile and as I had nowhere to turn, could only keep driving.  I was a nervous wreck.

Suddenly, an Avalon police cruiser seemed to come out of nowhere and pulled into the lane ahead of me, while blue lights began flashing behind as well.  We were both getting pulled over.  I was so relieved!

The officers in the car ahead walked back and told me to hang tight.  They conferred with the officers in the back, then one of them approached my open drivers window and said "The couple behind you say they know you, and were only trying to get your attention.  Is that true?"

What!  I could see them in my rear view mirror.  The man was standing outside his car, next to 2 officers.  His passenger (his girlfriend or wife or whatever) was still in the car, staring in my direction with a sort of pleading look and shaking her head.  I told the officers absolutely not, I never saw them before I got off that exit.     

He said they figured that but were still obligated to ask.  When I asked if the driver was going to get ticketed, the officer said he was under arrest for reckless driving.  He took down my personal info, than told me I was free to go.  

Dana's death has me sitting here thinking "What if no police had shown up that night?  What would've happened to me?"   I wish poor Dana had gotten the same rescue I did.  

Religion for Sale: A fond farewell to the Coal Lick Methodist Church

This was taken in June 1973, our first day of Bible School that my siblings & I attended every summer at the Coal Lick Methodist Church in Waynesburg, Pa.

That's me and my sister Shawn in the back, my brother Steve and sister Donda-Lin in front

I sure am wearing a lot of plaids here!  Why, Doug... why.

I have very, very fond memories of this small country church.  Our great grandparents were married here, as were our grandparents, and our mom & dad.  So were our Morris aunts, uncles... our oldest brother Duke married his first wife Cheryl here in 1981.

August 7, 1958.  My parents wedding.

The church was built in 1840, and in 1970 had 68 adult members.  

It had a beautiful dark wood ceiling (as you're about to see) and gorgeous stained glass windows on both sides of the church that sadly, are no more.

I told my friend Diana the other night that I always felt a tremendous sense of peace here.  The basement had half windows that filled it with soft light, and a 1940s kitchen where various church or family events were attended with plenty of food.  In the summers during Bible School, we worked on crafts down there.

As I sit here writing this, all these memories come flooding back.  Every year (besides my siblings and first cousins) we'd see other families like the Bland kids.  The oldest Rodney was my age, they all had orangey red hair and loads of freckles.  Their mother loved to sing and had a loud, booming voice.  There were the Zollars girls (the older one was an awful bully who grew up even worse), the Hendersons (BJ, Eddie & Pam, good kids) and our second cousins from our Grandpap's brother Kenneth's family, also named Morris.  

Farm boys, quiet and good looking, with dark hair and tan faces and clear eyes.

On April 19, 1981 the Morrisville Methodist (top) & Coal Lick Methodist church (bottom) had their final day of services.  They joined together to form a new church, the Oak View Methodist

Anyway, this past week my sister sent me a Zillow listing for the Coal Lick which is up for sale.

They're asking $200,000 for the structure and 1/8 acre.  Gosh that sounds steep.

After the church closed up shop in the early Eighties, it sat empty for a number of years before being bought by a family for use as a home.

Over the years they removed the stained glass windows, added a wooden deck on the left side... what happened to the doors on the vestibule in front?

And here's the side opposite the deck--those beautiful stained glass windows replaced with ordinary ones.

Here's a couple pics of the cluttered interior.   Aside from the ceiling (which looks beautiful as ever) it's difficult to picture the church as it once was.  I can still see it clearly in my mind's eye though.   

The current owners have got a lot of bric-a-brac going on here!

One more...

I began having spiritual doubts when I was around 17 or so, and pretty much lost any remaining beliefs in college.  A Sociology professor of mine would talk at length about the need for religion to placate the masses, and I began seeing things in a different light.  I'm not an atheist, but not into organized religion either.  

Finally, I wanted to share this:  I was telling my friend Diana that behind the pulpit of the original church was this very large portrait of Jesus by Heinrich Hofmann.  It was absolutely huge, it must've stood fifty feet tall.  

She said "Well, I'm sure it looked that way to a child's eyes."  Maybe so.  But it never intimidated me, seeing the Savior praying always brought me peace inside, and comfort.  This was the artwork below.  

I will never forget you, Coal Lick Church.  

I can't believe it... 7 recent things I can't believe

1.  I can't believe they released a new Star Trek series on Paramount Plus that I can't bring myself to watch.  I've been a devoted Star Trek fan over 50 years, gobbled up everything with the Trek logo (including some real stinkers in the mix).  But this is beyond saving.  I barely made it thru the first two episodes, it's so bad.  I hope that Paramount puts it out of it's misery, it makes JJ Abrams version of Trek (which was crap) look almost genius in comparison.

2.  I can't believe Melania Trump produced a movie about.. herself?  (I've since learned this thing is a big flop.  Now THAT I can believe.)

3. I can't believe I haven't been in a movie theater since 2013.  I love movies, from the late 1960s thru the 1990s I probably went to the theater once a week.  But I learned a dozen years ago I don't need a big screen--movies at home on my own tv are the best.  (I tend to hit that pause button a lot.)

4.  Speaking of TVs, I can't believe I bought a new one a few months back and it only cost me $233.00, taxes & delivery included.  I also can't believe it's considered small and has a 45" screen.  In 1978 I was working at The Pancake House and saving my money to buy a 13" color tv for $299.00.

But at $2.25 an hour, I ultimately decided it was too expen$ive for my wallet and bought a 13" b&w television instead.

5.  I can't believe it took me 25 minutes to walk to Kuhn's Market yesterday (normally a 10 minute walk).  But since that monster snowfall last weekend, temps have remained in the subzero and single digits and the city discovered 37 of their 80 snow trucks weren't operational.  So my little borough has remained buried in the snow.

I also can't believe UPMC Health Plan just donated $10 million to the city to buy new snow trucks.  It's very generous, but they're notorious for underpaying their employees--which is why UPMC workers are always striking and on the news. 

6.  I can't believe my 69 year old neighbor Dee knocked on my door earlier today and asked if I'd send a text to her pharmacy confirming her prescription number & address.  When I asked if her phone was broken, she said "No I got it right here honey.  But I never done a text before.  You probably think I'm a dinosaur, don't you?"  No Dee, I don't.  I'm fairly new to texting myself, around 2 years now.  But I hardly use it, I'm not a fan.

7.  I can't believe Catherine O' Hara is gone.  So sharp, so wicked funny.  She was only 71 years old.  I'm still adjusting to Olivia Newton John's demise, and she's been gone since 2022.  She was only 73.

Rest in peace, Catherine.  Gosh I loved you so much.

The time I met Polly Holliday (“Flo”) and her costars—but it’s not who you think

A couple days ago I heard on the news that Polly Holliday (who played Flo on the CBS show “Alice” in the 1970s-80s) died.  I was surprised to learn she never married or had any children, and was born July 2, 1937. 

She was exactly 3 weeks older than my dad—but with him being gone over 25 years now, she had a long life at least.

I was also surprised to see all the other roles she played in movies and on tv, I had no idea.  I only knew her as that waitress with the catch phrase “Kiss my grits!”

That’s not entirely true though; I saw her in a live performance once, and got to meet her after the show.

In January 1990, I was dating a girl named Rossi I met at the Shaler Highlands Apts (the first place I lived after moving to Pittsburgh).  We were the same age, and both worked downtown.  I was a computer programmer for Omega Systems, she worked in Public Relations at Heinz Foods.  

She worked for her mom, who was a big executive at Heinz.  The first time I met her mother, she asked me what I did for a living and when I told her, she said “How long do you intend to do that?”  When I told her I’d only been at it a few months, she said “Try to be a little more ambitious for Rossi’s sake.”

So one night we’re invited to Rossi’s parents for dinner, and her mother says she has a late Christmas present for us:  two tickets to the premiere of ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof’ at the Benedum Center downtown.  It stars Kathleen Turner as Maggie, Charles Durning as Big Daddy, Polly Holliday as Big Mama, Daniel Hugh Kelly as Brick.

(Kelly played the race car driver on the 80’s show “Hardcastle & McCormick” co-starring Brian Keith.)

Her mother tells us we MUST dress up and asks me if I own a navy or charcoal gray suit.  Yes, I have both.  She asked me if I had a nice tie and I said I had several—but she still had a tie delivered to my office a couple days later, with a $65.00 price tag on it.

The night of the show, a car was sent to pick us up at our apartment complex.  Rossi was gorgeous in a glittering red dress and I couldn’t believe my good fortune—but I felt out of place when we arrived, as most of the crowd in front of the theater was dressed pretty casual, and people kept looking at us and mouthing stuff like “Whoa”.

When the doors finally opened and we began filing in, I handed our tickets to the usher and he said “Sir, when the show is over please remain in your seats.  Either myself or another usher will escort you to our rooftop.”   Rooftop?

Polly Holliday as Big Mama, Daniel Hugh Kelly, Kathleen Turner & Charles Durning take their bows

It was a wonderful show, and when the lights went up and people began filing out, we remained seated.  We looked around the theater and noticed 5-6 other couples also in their seats, also dressed to the nines but appeared to be considerably older. 

We were taken behind stage (wow!) and up stairs covered in red velvet to the roof.  They had lights strung up, candles everywhere, and 2 tables in white linen with champagne, fruit, canapes, a chef standing behind a roast duck & roast beef.  It was very elegant.

I remember asking Rossi if she was used to this sort of thing, she said no, never.  We then heard a smattering of applause, and Charles Durning emerged, wearing baggy overalls with nothing on underneath, swigging from a bottle of whiskey.  He nodded at the group of us and said “Let’s get this shitshow over with” and walked over to the tables of food.  He didn’t talk to anyone the rest of the evening.

Daniel Hugh Kelly appeared next, in a red satin robe, with a towel wrapped around his neck.  He kept fluffing his hair back, and walked over and stood beside Durning.  I told Rossi “They don’t want to be here” and she said “But I do!” 

Then we heard louder applause and Polly Holliday emerged.  She had her hair piled high on her head with various rods in it at different angles, and wore a Japanese kimono with an obi pillow on it’s back.  She looked so tall!  She walked over to each couple and did a graceful bow, and when she got to Rossi & myself she said “What do you think?” and the three of us laughed and I’m not even sure why.  She was so kind, and so down-to-Earth, and told us she was going thru a Japanese phase and everyone should try it at least once in their lives.  She had the biggest smile I ever saw.

I very much wanted to tell her how much I loved her character Flo on “Alice”, but this whole affair felt so surreal & elegant, I was afraid to say anything that would reveal what a hick I really was. 

I have to admit though, the highlight of the evening was Kathleen Turner.  She was the last one to appear and was ABSOLUTELY STUNNING in a silver dress with long diamond earrings.  She looked 100% like a Hollywood star.  She smiled and nodded politely to the other audience members there, walked STRAIGHT OVER to Rossi and myself and asked what we thought of the show.  We told her she nailed Maggie, we just loved it.  She told us this was their very first performance, they were going on to Boston & Philadelphia next, then to New York.

Rossi said “I loved you in ‘Peggy Sue Got Married’, Miss Turner.  I hope that’s alright!”  Kathleen laughed and said thank you.  I was dying to tell her I’d seen all her pictures, I loved Prizzi’s Honor, Jewel of the Nile and Body Heat, but to be honest I was just… starstruck.  She looked at me and said “What is your industry?”  I said “Er… computers, Ms. Turner.”  Kathleen said “Of course.  How old are you?”  I told her we were both 28.  She said “I’m very impressed.”   Why?

All I kept thinking was that just 3 years earlier I was living in my friend’s attic back home, almost penniless—and in that 3 years time managed to go back to school, move to the city, land a good job and wind up on the roof of the Benedum with a bunch of hoity-toity rich people and Hollywood celebrities.  How?!

I did later learn the supper was sponsored by the theater, for locals who donated $25,000 or more to Children’s Hospital.  Rossi & I had gone in place of her parents, who were meant to be there on behalf of Heinz Foods who had made the donation.

Anyway, I’ve been wanting to share this story since I started this blog 20 years ago, but never had a good reason.  Now I do.  Rest in peace, Polly Holliday. I’m very glad I got to meet you and your terrific smile.

 

Some sad sleuthing of a blogger friend

There’s no delicate way to put this, but I believe Arkansas Patti of The New Sixty is no longer with us.

I’m sure many of her followers have suspected this for awhile now, but I’ve never been 100% certain.  However, I’ve been doing some sleuthing on the internet and found some sad truths.

For followers of her blog, her last post was Jan 17, 2023 where she was undergoing testing for chronic myeloid leukemia and was informed it was quite treatable.

She told us she wouldn’t be blogging for awhile, but would keep up with her blog-friends as best she can.

She didn’t post again, or leave feedback on others blogs (which I enjoyed reading greatly) but she did continue to publish the comments people wrote on her final post.

These were the final two comments she published, from myself and Kay of Musings.

I did attempt to leave one more comment a couple months into 2024, but it never made it to Patti’s blog.

Arkansas Patti shared a lot, but was pretty private about her personal identity.  We exchanged emails a few times, and her email address said PattiKelly, so I decided to look for recent obituaries for Patricia Kelly in Arkansas, aged 80+ and after January 10, 2024.

I found this.  Patricia Kelly, died January 31, 2024.

I’m not familiar with Timbo, AR--but according to Google Maps, it’s in the north central area of the state where Patti said she resided.  Also, the Roller-Crouch Funeral Home is located in Mountain View, AR.

Every time Patti visited my blog, I’d get a ping on my visitor’s map from Mountain View, AR. 

The last visit to my blog from Mountain View AR was on January 16, 2024.  That was a couple weeks before the death of Patricia Kelly above.  I’m guessing they are one and the same.

So if anyone knows more than me, could you let us know?  I considered Patti a real friend, as I’m sure many of you did as well.  She would sometimes ask me if I was still using Windows 7 (yes) and did I plan to upgrade soon (no) because she wasn’t either.  I can’t remember how I found her blog, or if she found mine first, but I enjoyed her wise commentary so much on mine and others blogs, I followed her around the blogverse like a puppy.  

She was truly the definition of kindness, and I still visit her blog every so often, just in case.  Thanks for letting me share and rest in peace Arkansas Patti.

UPDATE:  Bobi, thank you for confirming her birthdate as well.

It’s 2025 and this is no longer Carter Country

I saw this reimagined American flag in the New York Times shortly after the presidential election, it’s accurate of course but frightening as well.  I’m still in a state of shock that so many would vote a convicted felon with the moral compass of black mold back into the White House.  All of his poison and “lazy lies” didn’t hinder his path there at all.

“Truth, justice and the American Way” no longer belong in the same phrase of words.  

I’ve shared it here before, but my first presidential vote was for Jimmy Carter’s second term.  I’m not as old as many of my friends at the senior center (or ones I know in the blogverse), but Carter still feels like a century ago.  To be honest, I had no plans to even vote back then, but in the summer of 1980 I was 18 and required to register for Selective Service.  All young men born after Jan 1, 1960 had to.

When I went to the Post Office to register, I was asked if I wanted to register to vote as well and that surprised me.  Was I really old enough to vote?  When I was asked what party I said Democrat without giving it a second’s thought. 

I can still remember my older brother Duke having a good laugh at the possibility of me getting drafted should they reinstate that (he was born in ‘59 and exempt) but when I told him I was looking forward to voting for Carter in November, he had a fit and told me to grow up. 

Republican through and through, I wonder what he thinks of Trump?  Actually, I don’t want to know.  We haven’t spoken in decades.

Well, I’m just rambling here and don’t know what to say.  I don’t want to share my forecast for the next 4 years, so I’ll just say RIP Jimmy Carter (and democracy as many of us knew it).  I won’t say “Happy New Year” but “Hopeful New Year” instead.

 

 

It was 20 years ago today

Linda Beryl Belford Morris

BIRTH

August 7, 1940

Rocklick, Marshall County, West Virginia

 

DEATH

Dec 22, 2004 (aged 64)

Waynesburg, Pennsylvania

 

BURIAL

Morris Cemetery

Waynesburg, Pennsylvania

Linda Belford Morris, 64, of Oak Forest Road, Waynesburg, died Wednesday, December 22, 2004, in Greene County Memorial Hospital, Waynesburg, following a lengthy illness.

She was born August 7, 1940, in Rock Lick, West Virginia, a daughter of the late Arol B. Belford and Anne C. Barnhart.

Mrs. Morris worked as a sales associate at Fisher's Big Wheel for 25 years and as a teacher's aide at Warrior Trail School, both in Waynesburg.

She was affiliated with Oak View United Methodist Church in Waynesburg and was a member of the Former Coalick Methodist Church.

On August 7, 1958, she married H. Donovan Morris, who died February 12, 2001.

Surviving are six chidren, Purri Donovan Morris of Clarksville, Douglas Edwin Morris of Pittsburgh, Carrie Shawn Plock of Rogersville, Steve Colin Morris of Carmichaels, Donda Lin Danforth of Charleston, S.C., and Courtney Brooke Valentine of  Cincinnati, Ohio; five grandchildren, Steve, Edwin and Timothy Morris, Drew Alexandra Danforth and Sophia Lindon Plock; and a half sister, Cathy Kopka of Nanty-Glo.

Deceased are two sisters, Lois Fluharty and Diana Belford.

Mom, not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you and missed you very much.

 

My friend and classmate Karen, our school marriage, aging and the realities of everything

This is my friend Karen Huffman, one of her senior class photos from high school.  She gave it to me along with a handwritten note that I somehow managed to hold on to after all these years.

We didn’t date in high school but were very close, and some in our class assumed we were a thing as did a couple of our teachers.  In our senior year we signed up for a class about marriage titled “On Our Own” where we took part in a mock wedding ceremony and were husband and wife for the year.

Karen has a quick, raspy voice and bossed me to no end—but I never minded, she was so funny and kind hearted.  One time Bob Stockdale (a classmate) said “If I was Doug I’d be filing for divorce” and everyone laughed, and when I said Karen’s words were music to my ears, our teacher Mrs. Kline told Karen “This is the man you want to marry!” 

By the way, if you’re wondering how I can recall something from 45 years ago, Karen wrote this was one of her favorite senior memories in my high school scrapbook.

Here’s Karen & myself in the center of our mock wedding ceremony, between the flags overhead.  Our friend Diana is 2 to the right of us, and that’s Mrs. Kline on the far leftBesides being good friends (and wedding partners), Karen & I were also selected by our senior class as “Most Likely to Succeed” for the Senior Personalities in our yearbook.  That’s us at the bottom on the first pageWe fell out of touch after graduating in 1979, but I got updates through the years.  She went on to college and become an elementary teacher, got married and had a son, moved to Virginia. 

We didn’t speak again for 30 years, until 2009 when Facebook came along.  Then we picked up where we left off like no time had passed at all.

In 2015 when I announced on Facebook I was sick of the rat race and taking an early retirement, Karen wrote me and said “Douglas you inspired me!  I’m sick of the race and retiring early too!” 

(For as long as I’ve known Karen, since the age of 12-13, she only called me Douglas.)  Anyway, true to her word she DID retire shortly after I did.

In 2017, when I wrote Karen and said I left Pittsburgh to move back to our hometown and was regretting my decision, she told me that every year she drove up to Pa to spend the holidays with her mom—but this year she was coming a couple days earlier to spend time with me.  We met up the first day for a 4 hour lunch, and the day after I went with Karen to visit her mom and see some old sights. 

She was just as funny, bossy and raspy in person as I remembered from all those years ago.  I am so glad we were able to get together again.

A recent photo of Karen (left) with our mutual friend and classmate Diana

I’m sharing all of this now, because last April Karen complained she was having trouble remembering things, and a couple months later pretty much went silent.  Diana reached out for answers, but only heard from Karen’s pastor that she was not well. 

And then a few days ago, Karen’s son posted this on Facebook:

Sorry to keep everyone uninformed for so long, but we did not have enough information on what was happening with my mother until recently.  She has been diagnosed with Coritcobasal Degeneration, a rare and aggressive form of dementia that resembles Parkinsons disease.  She has limited mobility using a walker at this time and is unable to care for herself in any way.  She is unable to comprehend what is happening and no longer uses her cell phone or social media accounts.  I have moved back in to help care for her until we can get some assistance with a long term plan.  We do appreciate all of the concern and support her friends have given in this time and I will try to update when I am able.

There is no treatment or cure, and life expectancy is short.  She is 62, same as me. 

I remember when we got together a few years ago, I asked Karen how she kept in such terrific shape.  She said “From doing the things I love, Douglas!  I swim at the Y nearly everyday and I have my friends & church family, they keep me very busy!”

Karen, you are and shall remain in my most heartfelt prayers.

 

It’s getting better all the time… also, a sad goodbye to an old friend

Are you getting tired of my selfies?  I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let that hospital bed mugshot in my last post be the last pic you see of me. 

So, I’ve been taking 800mg gabapentin for one week now and it’s making a difference.  Well, in my skull at least.  It’s easing the cranial pressure, but does nothing for my orofacial pain.  I contacted Dr. Batal (who prescribed the Neurontin) and asked if I could take something like Tylenol too.  He said “Yes to Tylenol, no to Advil, Aleve, Naoproxen.”

I said thanks, maybe I’ll try to hold off on the Tylenol.  When he asked why, I said I was already taking 10 pills a day as it was. 

He said “10 pills?  You’re only supposed to be taking 8 of the Neurontin (gabapentin) daily.”  I reminded him I’m also taking two amlodipine a day for my high blood pressure.  This is crazy!

Anyway, I didn’t retouch this photo or anything (haha) but I DID take it in my bedroom under a soft light.  I know I’m no George Clooney, but I think I look a heck of a lot better than I did 2 weeks ago.  (But outside, it looks like I have 2 black eyes.)  I’m anxious to get the facial pain under control, but I’m nervous about leaving my apartment and going anywhere.  I feel very drugged from all the gabapentin.  I couldn’t walk a straight line if you paid me to.

I’m getting there though.  And right now I feel pretty fortunate.

This past Sunday, my sister Shawn texted me and said “Did you know Mike Pikula died?”  No I didn’t, and it shocked me greatly.  Back in 1980, a year after high school, I landed a full-time job at Murphy’s Mart (a new discount retail store like Wal-Mart in our hometown).  I quickly became friends with several people my age—Brenda, Rita, Kim, Rob, Mark, Mike.  Most of us hung out at Brenda’s house on Saturday nights, ate snacks and played board games and watched television together.

Mike & Brenda fell in love and got married in 1986, but we remained close until I moved to Pittsburgh a year later.  We pretty much lost contact for 30 years, until 2017 when my sister talked me into moving back to Waynesburg.  That didn’t work out, but before I moved back to the city I had a reunion with Mike & Brenda and we went out to dinner at Burgatory (an upscale hamburger joint) and then to La-Z-Boy Furniture where they helped me pick out a new couch.  The same one I’m sitting on right now.

I made Mike do a test sit, recline & lie-down on every sofa we looked at and give it a comfort rating—he happily obliged and it was just like the old days. 

It hardly seemed like 30 years had passed, we laughed so much that night and had such a great time.

Mike died of cancer a week ago, surrounded by his wife, children and grandchildren.  My heart hurts for Brenny Lou, I can’t believe he’s gone.  Rest in peace, Mike.

 

One of our Friends is no longer with us

Note:  This was written the day before the death of Friends actor Matthew Perry and has nothing to do with his passing.  The title is just a sad coincidence.

 

Last night my friend Elisa (who I worked with for 10 years at the Allegheny County Dept of Aging, and now helps manage the Senior Center) texted me and wrote “I’m sure Kim already texted you but in case she hasn’t, Terry Cavallo died yesterday.”

I assumed she was talking about someone at the center.  Who was Terry Cavallo?  I texted back I didn’t know the name, but the moment I pressed SEND, it hit me: Terry as in Terry Kavala?

Before I could ask, she sent a link to his obituary.  Oh Terry.  My heart sank.  He had been wrestling with blood disease, and his latest treatment was the same given to leukemia patients.  His heart couldn’t bear the strain.

For as long as I’ve known Terry, he was always lean, fit as a fiddle.  He never drank or smoked.  He was only 63 years old.

I sat here and thought about him all night, and our many years together, and it hit me, we were Friends before Friends.

There was a core group of 6 of us, all in our early thirties, who worked at the Dept of Aging and met for lunch everyday for years, from 1989 to 2000.  There was 3 guys—Terry Kavala, Jerry D & myself, and 3 girls—Carolyn G, Elisa E & Kim H.

We sometimes had a couple of older guest stars like Joanne & Darlene join us, and a younger guest named Janet—but it was the 6 of us who met Mon-Fri for lunch in the Nurse’s Room, our “Central Perk”. 

Terry was like Ross, the funny but melancholy academic.  Jerry was like Joey, the cute Italian guy who was always cracking everyone up.  I was Chandler, the neurotic with the job the rest knew little about.  (They just knew I worked with computers.)

I’m not sure how I’d match up Elisa, Carolyn & Kim to Phoebe, Monica & Rachel, I’ll have to ask them what they think.

I don’t know if it’s too soon, the poor man has just passed.  But it’s been a long time since I last saw or spoke to Terry, and I’ll always carry this one memory of him with me.  I had bought my mom a ruby garnet ring (that was on special for Mother’s Day) from Kaufmann’s, a big department store right across the street from our office.  When I showed it to the group at lunch, Terry remarked how much he liked it and wanted to get one for his wife. 

I told him to make sure he asked for the wife’s ring, not the mother’s one.  Men weren’t being careful and were ticking their wives off. 

From the expression he gave me, I assumed he knew I was just being a goof.

However, the very next day at lunch Terry was nowhere to be seen.  Afterwards when I was back at my desk, my phone rang.  It was Terry, who said he’d just spent his lunch hour at the jewelry counter at Kaufmann’s insisting there was two versions of the ruby ring they had on special.

When I said oops my bad, he calmly said “Douglas I’m coming for you next.”  

I literally ran down the hall to Carolyn Galvin’s office and told her I was a dead man if she didn’t save my hide.  I can’t remember what happened after that, but I’m still here so… I only wish Terry was.

Goodbye Terry—you deserved so much more.

 

Uncle Mike, I just wanted to say thank you and goodbye

Last week my Uncle Mike died.  Born in February 1943, he was 80 years old.  He was my dad’s brother, 5 1/2 years younger in age.  It’s not a lot, but it never occurred to me they were that far apart in age.  They were very close, played music professionally together for many years, loved and respected each other.  They were brothers in the truest sense of the word.

When Dad died in February 2001, I often wondered how Uncle Mike dealt with the loss.  I wish I’d reached out and just asked, but in 40 years I can count on one hand the number of times I saw Uncle Mike, let alone spoke with him.

I loved the man, we just never got to know one another.

My Uncle Mike was married to my Aunt Sandy for 55 years, and they raised 3 daughters; Emily, Amy & Michael.  I haven’t seen the older two in many years (Em lives out west, Amy in Florida) but I love them dearly, they’re wonderful people.  And honestly, their mother is a trip.  From the first time I met Aunt Sandy (when I was 6 years old) to the first time I’d seen her in 18 years just a couple months ago, she has always been funny and dear and outspoken. 

At my niece Sophia’s graduation party in June, Uncle Mike & Aunt Sandy were there.  (I hadn’t seen them since Sophia’s first birthday party, she’ll be 19 this week.)  Anyway, Aunt Sandy said “Doug why don’t you come down and stay with me & your Uncle Mike for awhile?  You can smoke in every room of our house!”   It was such a sweet offer, I didn’t want to tell her I quit smoking many years ago.

From 1979, the original Morris brood:  Uncle Mike on the top left, Dad, Aunt Terry, Uncle Shane, Grandpap Morris on the bottom, Grandma Morris, Aunt Dena

He certainly was a good looking man.  My mom (who was a couple years ahead of him in school) often told us how popular Uncle Mike was with the girls, and how he became the brother she never had after she married Dad. 

I have a couple memories of my Uncle that I’ll always hold close to me; the first is one I’m not sure I should even be sharing.  In the fall of 1966 when I was around 5 years old, I was showing my sister Shawn the “barbershop” Dad had set up in the basement for my older brother Duke & me. 

The next thing I know, Shawn was in the chair and I was clipping her long tresses. 

She went upstairs to where Dad was in the kitchen with Uncle Mike.  Dad pounded down those steps and (in a moment of temporary insanity) began beating my behind.  I mean he was crying and frantic, I think he was scared Mom would come home from the store, see most of Shawn’s hair gone and have a heart attack or something.

Anyway, I just remember Uncle Mike running down those steps and yelling at him to stop and pulling Dad off me.  I never heard my uncle yell or raise his voice again. 

My second memory is from February 2001, when my old man died.  After the service, I stood alone in front of my dad’s casket and cried pretty hard.  It went on for quite awhile too, and the entire time my Uncle Mike stood behind me, his hands on both my shoulders.

It brought me so much comfort, him doing that.  I’m just glad I was able to thank him a few years later.  Rest in peace, Uncle Mike.

 

RIP James “Jimmy” B, the man I both wanted & didn’t want to become

A couple days ago while up the street, I stopped in my barber shop to say hi to Roe (my lady barber) and schedule an appointment for next week.  I was pleasantly surprised to see this on the wall, a framed photo montage of my friend Jim, who died this past October at age 74. 

Jim’s life was that barbershop.  He didn’t work there, more like the shop’s mascot and occasional gopher—but it’s where he spent much of his time for 25 years.  He never owned a computer or cellphone, but kept up to date with everything in the world and was happy to give you an earful if and when provoked.  He managed to tick off half the women he knew, but still had those same women cooking for him.  Everyone loved him.

I first met Jim in the spring of 1999, shortly after he moved into my old apartment building.  One night I was downstairs in the back, talking to Janice (who lived below me) when we saw a chubby, balding man walking away from Janice’s neighbor Teresa’s car. 

Teresa (a retired bank manager in her 70s) got out and shouted “If I’m going to make you dinner then you’d better help with these groceries!”  The man turned around and headed back to her car.  Janice turned to me and said “I think Teresa’s found herself a gigolo.”

Teresa’s “gigolo” was Jimmy B, who recently moved into our building.  He’d been living just a couple streets over with his mother until she passed in February.  Never married and in his fifties, he was on his own for the first time.  And in his first month there, managed to get a couple of the older women in our building to cook for him on occasion.  It went on for many years, too. 

So in those pre-Covid years, before the barbershop became ‘By Appointment Only’ and was filled with a dozen guys waiting for a haircut (myself included), Jim would often pull me into his talks to the crowd.  “Doesn’t ANYONE know a single lady we can fix Doug up with?  He’s loaded!  Doug—tell everyone how much money you have!”

He also liked to share recent (and past) going-ons at our apartment building, and used me as his back-up:  “Doug, remember that night those two meth-heads on your floor nearly burned the place down?  And everyone was evacuated in the middle of the night, except for me because I never heard them pounding on my door?  Tell everyone what Teresa told the firemen when they asked who lived in #203!”

In my best Teresa voice, I said “Oh, that’s just Jim in there—let the man sleep.  Or burn for all I care.”

Sometimes when Jim napped or left to get lunch at the Rusty Nail, some newbie would ask who Jim was and what he did for a living, and one of the other regulars would tell Jim’s story.  Jim was an accounting clerk for Gulf Oil, in the US Steel Building downtown.  In 1984, Chevron Oil acquired Gulf and offered all the Gulf employees a huge severance package.  You could either take a $40,000 cash payout, or 50K in Chevron stock.

Everyone took the cash—Jim took the stock.  “Jim why’d you take the payout in stock?”  “Because my dad always said, do the OPPOSITE of what everyone else is doing!”

Jim’s 50K of Chevron stock split when the Gulf takeover became public, then split again and again.  In a matter of weeks, his shares had quadrupled.  He was 35 years old, and would never work again.

I loved that story, and Jim’s flimsy knowledge of stocks (that still managed to keep him in clover for 40 years) helped inspire me to take my own savings and put it in the market many years ago.

I used to tell everyone I was going to be the next Jimmy B—until I early-retired in 2015 and the barbers invited me to spend more time at the barbershop.  I said “I’m not going to be the next Jimmy B!”

Sadly, when the pandemic struck in 2020 and the barbershop closed down for nearly a year, Jim had nowhere to go.  I invited him to visit me at my new apartment, he was invited to several people’s homes—but he declined most of the offers.  He missed the days of a ‘full shop’. 

When the barbershop finally reopened, but with one barber and ‘by appointment only’, Jim checked himself into New Hope Nursing Home.  He told us he had an audience there, and a staff to prepare all his meals and even help give him a bath twice a week. 

Roe told him to get the hell out of there, that’s where old people go to die, but he didn’t listen.  And one year later, this past October, Jim died in his sleep.  Gone too soon, but I suspect he was pretty happy there.  There will certainly never be another Jimmy B.

Candace’s Christmas card

Can I share something not so merry here?  I don’t want to sound like a Dougie Downer, especially around the holidays, but this is such a good reminder—to myself, at least—to appreciate my home, my health, the people in my life—everything.

This past Sunday I was putting out my meager holiday decorations and looking at this Christmas card from last year.

For as long as I can remember, after Christmas is over and I’m packing up my ceramic tree and the like, I keep 1 or 2 Christmas cards for next year.  Sort of like “holiday bait” to lure in those new cards next Christmas.  Am I a weirdo?

Anyway, in 2020 I chose my friend Erin’s “Star Wars Christmas” card.  And then last year, it was my friend Candace’s card seen here.

I chose Candace’s card because I liked it’s old school vibe—plus I appreciated the good wishes inside.  Both of us had recently been in the hospital for kidney-related issues, mine was two stones blocking my right kidney, a large & small. 

Candace’s would turn out to be far more serious.  Both of her kidneys would shut down a month later, and she’d die in early April—a week before her 60th birthday.

(I shared her obituary here.)

Besides being heartbroken (I’ve known & loved Candace for 22 years), I could not believe her bad fortune.  Just a few months before, Candace and her husband John were visiting relatives and stumbled upon a house for sale.  They weren’t even looking for a new home, they lived in a rowhouse in the city for 37 years. 

But her husband had just retired, and Candace was planning to retire in the summer of 2022, and they figured this house in the suburbs would be a nice place to retire to.  They put in an offer and got it. 

Realtor.com even posted an article about them, finding your retirement home when you’re not even looking.  Candace got to live in it for a couple months, at least.

    

It really was beautiful inside, with a big sun porch in the back

Anyway, the reason I’m sharing this isn’t just because I saved Candace’s card from last Christmas, but because recently her husband John died too.  He was 68 years old, took a bad fall in their house and then got progressively worse. 

He became paralyzed within a month, then died several weeks ago, in October.  Here is John’s obituary.

   

While I wasn’t as close to John as I was Candace—she was a liberal like myself, John wasn’t—he made a point of reading my blog and sent me feedback whenever I posted a food blog.  

In fact, every time Candace made chicken parmesan (from a recipe on my blog) he would email me.  Apache, we’re having your chicken parm tonight. 

And now, he’s gone too.  It just amazes me, what can change in a year.  They had no children, so I don’t have a clue what will happen to their home.  The last I checked a week ago, it hasn’t gone up for sale yet. 

All I know is, a year ago they were here and Candace was wishing a healthy 2022 for us all.  I miss them both, yet feeling more thankful than I’ve felt in a long time.  Thanks for letting me share.

          

A couple thoughts and a couple legs, on an early Thursday morning

Here I am, Thursday morning.  It’s 7:22am and I’m sitting on my ‘stretching blanket’ in front of my sofa, looking if there’s anything good to watch on Hulu after I finish this blog and before I make some breakfast.

I’m already on my second cup of coffee, I’ve been up for 90 minutes or so. The last couple weeks I’ve been going to bed early and getting up around 5:30am. 

Is that a sign of aging, I wonder?  Going to bed earlier?  I was pooped last night by 9:30, in bed asleep at 10pm. 

The reason you’re looking at my legs here is because this time tomorrow, I’ll be on a bus headed downtown so someone else can look at them too.

I have an appointment tomorrow morning at Mercy Hospital with my Egyptian PCP Dr. Nefrititi, to do a 6-8 month re-evaluation of my heart & hypertension drugs.  (I take two doses of Carvedilol during the day to regulate my heartbeat, Amlodipine in the PM for blood pressure.)

The last time I saw my doctor in December, I was dealing with some pretty severe fluid retention.  My legs and feet were swollen so bad they ‘wept’ at night, it was difficult to get around sometimes too.  I wondered if the amlodipine was worsening things and asked to be switched to another drug, but she said my BP numbers were in stroke territory, and felt this med was best for the time being.

Still, they took a LOT of pictures of my legs from every angle with an iphone to add to my patient record.

She told me to commit to a daily exercise regimen, and in 6 months we’d re-evaluate the meds.  Since then, my legs have shrunk considerably and I’ve lost 25 pounds.  I use a treadmill 5 times a week, Sunday nights and Monday thru Thursday afternoons.  I set the incline to 2 and the speed to 2.3, a pretty brisk pace. 

I do 4 laps (with a 2 minute breather between laps) which takes around 30 minutes.

Here’s some proof of my daily regimen, the fitness Center’s sign-in sheet for May

Anyway, I’d like to lose another 30-35 lbs (and plan to), I just want to continue doing it without fad dieting.  As for tomorrow, I’m hoping she takes a look at my lower BP numbers and skinny legs, and reduces these meds.

To be honest, the past several days haven’t been great.  Last week, Pennie (my state’s health insurance marketplace) notified me my account was flagged and I could lose my insurance in 15 days due to income discrepancies.  Saturday morning my laptop went black (my charger died).  On Sunday I was peeing blood (sorry), and on Monday morning I walked into my bathroom and the floor was flooded!  They wound up taking out my toilet and asked if I had some place I could stay for a day or two—nope!

Since then, things have turned around.  I spoke to my urologist (who allayed my fears about the blood in my urine), got things with Pennie resolved and a new toilet installed yesterday.  And then last night, a FedEx person buzzed me downstairs; he had the replacement charger & battery for my 5 day dead laptop. 

I was more than ready to crank out a nice long boring blog post! 

Now I can go back to worrying about finding a new chair… hopefully an update on that soon.

On an unrelated note, can I share some heartache here?  This past Sunday morning, I was watching a tribute video to Olivia Newton-John on Youtube.   

After the video I was reading the comments, and one person wrote “And RIP Judith Durham”.  What? 

I did a quick google search and sure enough, Judith Durham died at age 79 on August 5.  I am heartbroken.  Two of my favorite female voices of the 1960s were Lulu’s “To Sir With Love” and Judith Durham (and the Seekers) “Georgy Girl”.  

Olivia deserves all the fanfare, but how is it I’m just now learning about Judith?  (And for the record, unlike many singers, Judith never lost her voice as she got older.  She sounded as youthful at 75 as she did at 25.) 

I thought I’d end this post with one of my favorite Seekers videos.  The title couldn’t be more fitting.  RIP Judith, you will be loved and missed. 

FOLLOW-UP TO MY 6 MONTH EVALUATION WITH THE DOCTOR

Fri, Aug.19 - I met with Dr. Nefrititi this morning at 8:30, both she and her nursing staff couldn’t have been nicer or more encouraging.  Dr.Nef gave me a new goal to lose 15 lbs before my next visit in 3 months, but “no more than a pound a week”.  Um, the math doesn’t work out there! 

Anyway, she told me to accept the fact I would most likely be on these meds for the rest of my life.  By re-evaluation and possibly dropping them, she only meant if the current drugs weren’t working as intended. 

Thanks for all of your awesome & encouraging comments, everyone. 

How one woman did so much with so little is beyond me… Happy Birthday, Mom

On this date, August 7, 1940 my mom was born.  Her full name was Linda Beryl Morris and she died in 2004, a few months after turning 64. 

Happy Birthday Mom, you would’ve and should’ve been 82 today.

This is her sometime around 1973, on her way to work at Fisher’s Big Wheel.  It was our small town’s first “real department store” that opened just a year prior.  Mom worked at Fisher’s full-time from 1972 to 1997, while raising 6 kids. 

I can still remember the week this store opened, Mom going in and asking for an application.  That night at dinner, Dad made a joke about “no woman of his was gonna work outside the home if he could help it”.  But when it came to lean times and coal miners strikes, birthdays & Christmases and us kids needing new shoes and school clothes and a hundred other things, that was all her. 

Mom spent so little on herself, she was the most unselfish person I’ve ever known.

I really don’t have a lot to say here that hasn’t been said before.  Last night while looking through my meager collection of Mom photos (she hated having her picture taken) I did a “Mom” search on my blog to see what pictures of her I’d already used, and was surprised at all the posts written about her over the years.  I hope one more is okay.

I thought I’d share this small example of who my mom was.  In November 2002, not quite two years after Dad passed, I went down to stay with her a few days for Thanksgiving.  (My sister Shawn was hosting our holiday dinner at her house.) 

Mom was showing me some of the recent home improvements she’d made, and I noticed a copper-metal sun hanging on her kitchen wall.  When I asked where she’d gotten it, she said at a yard sale, it had been almost black with grease. 

When I said it looked cool, she told me to take it home with me.  I laughed and said “Of course not!  Mom you don’t have to give something away just because someone likes it!”   She asked me if I was sure I didn’t want it and I said yes, positively.  It looked perfect where it was.

When I returned to Pittsburgh 2-3 days later and was unpacking my things, the copper metal sun was hidden down in one of my bags, wrapped in newspaper—with toilet tissue taped around each of the sun’s spires.

It’s hung on three kitchen walls of mine since—and always will.  I love you, Mom.

 

People come and go so quickly here, don’t they

I hesitate sharing this right now, for a couple of reasons.  First, my heart just feels very heavy.  Second, it’s been too soon.  Third, I don’t want a friend’s death to be viewed as an opportunity to have a new blog-post.

At the same time… I’m having trouble keeping quiet about it too.  Someone I know, Candace Merriman, died on Monday, April 11.  It wasn’t an accident, but it was unexpected.  She’d only been sick for a month before things took a turn for the worse.

For some reason, it’s hard coming to terms with this.  Candace was funny, feisty and VERY smart.  She was six months younger than me, and one of the first people I worked with when I joined UPMC Health Plan 22+ years ago. 

After I retired in 2015, she was one of three people I stayed in touch with.  Not as much as I have with the other two, but we still exchanged notes in our birthday & Christmas cards, and when Trump was in office we had some very long phone chats.

When I first met Candace in 2000, she was a manager with a nice office and a cool bubble gum machine on her desk.  I was assigned to work with her on a series of healthplan member reports for Heinz Foods. 

A couple years later, my boss announced Candace was stepping down as manager and joining our IT team as a business analyst.  She’d be in the desk in front of mine.  On her first day, she said “Hi Doug!” and I said “I can’t process this, I’m too used to seeing you as a superior, not an equal.”  She said “Why does that have to change?”

That was Candace—everything came with a sly smile and twinkle in her eye!

Over the years, sitting in such close proximity, I learned a lot about her life as she did mine.  I remember in 2007, the day after The Big Bang Theory debuted on CBS, she asked me what I thought of the premiere episode.  When I told her I hadn’t seen it and had no intention of watching the show, she said “But Doug!  The show was created just for you!  I swear to God I’m going to lose it if you don’t watch the next episode!”

She was right, I fell in love with it and we discussed every episode for years.

I’m sorry, I could go on & on about a hundred little things.  I do want to say this—I’ve never liked getting advice from anyone, but I did ask for it on several occasions from Candace and she never steered me wrong.  The stock portfolio in my retirement account… she helped me choose them.  Our boss, notorious for ignoring much of what we had to say, often came to her desk for her input as well.

I know a close one’s death always seems unfair, but Candace and her husband John had just sold their home on the Southside for a wonderful house outside of the city.  He had recently retired, and Candace (who would’ve turned 60 on Friday) was still working but planning to retire soon as well.  

Candace, I will miss you for a long, long time.