Same Old Story?

 

George Santos memes showing up on social media make me smile. While folks like Mr. Santos used to get laughed off the public stage, these days Walter Mitty-like behavior seems to have become de rigueur among a certain segment of our population.  But come to think of it, Walter Mitty (the fictional creation of James Thurber) was a daydreamer rather than an imposter.

Santos has been caught in outright  lies about his background since he won a seat in the House of Representatives. He claimed his mother died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks, but there is no evidence she was even in the U.S. during the attack. He has falsely claimed he was Jewish and his grandmother was a Holocaust victim, that he worked on Wall Street and he embroidered (lied about) his educational background. 

Remember the 1960s movie "The Great Imposter"? That film, starring Tony Curtis, was said to be based on the life of one Fernando Waldo Demara. 

At times in his life (he died at the age of 60 in 1982), Demara lived as a Trappist monk, a doctor of psychology, dean of philosophy at a small college in Pennsylvania (Gannon College in Erie), a law student, a zoology graduate, a career researcher, a teacher at a junior college in Maine, a surgeon in the Royal Canadian Army, assistant warden at a Texas prison and a teacher in a Maine village. He often borrowed the names and credentials of living people. He faced charges of fraud, forgery, theft, embezzlement, resisting arrest, vagrancy and public drunkenness.

Plug con artist into a Google search and you'll be rewarded with tales of famous - or infamous - tricksters such as Charles Ponzi, Elizabeth Holmes, Bernie Madoff and scores more. These days, the newest con artists mount"social engineering attacks" to prey on unsuspecting targets over the internet. The perpetrators might pretend to be your boss, your friends, your grandchildren, someone from Microsoft. But no matter who they're pretending to be, their motivation is to separate you from your data or your money!

My newspaperman grandfather wrote this about a fellow who was pretending to be someone he wasn't. 

"Let's see now. We mentioned an occasional 'stinker,' didn't we?

"Once in a while one comes our way. Met one last week. He introduced himself as a big shot.

"He told this writer, 'I'm Hal M. Harrison. I write Life Afield for the Pittsburgh Post Gazette.

"The fellow did not look like a newspaperman. He did not talk like one. He carried a camera but it was a small cheap instrument, not the kind used by men who take pictures for newspapers.

"The writer thought he was one of those exceptions, but added two and two and it did not make four. The alleged columnist was coming back next day. He did not.

"It kinda bothered us so we called Hal Harrison in Pittsburgh. Nope, he had not been in Potter County. He remarked, 'Hell's bells, I haven't been out of the house in three days!'

"The genial Hal was as much puzzled as were we. He'd kinda like to know who is doing the impersonating act.

"The bogus Hal reminds us of a story of a local man. The story is told that at a good hotel away from home he registered as Dr. So-and-So. He was enjoying the masquerade when there was an emergency call for a physician. Immediately they paged Dr. So-and-So.

"When found, he graciously explained that he was sorry but his title came from Ph.D, not M.D. That let him out of a tight hole.

"The uncouth 'Hal' better polish up on newspapering or cut it out. Otherwise he is in for embarrassment and he may face a charge of giving false information to the press. Thirty days in jail might bring the poor dumb guy to his senses – if any."

Water

"Water flows from high in the mountains,

Water runs deep in the earth

Miraculously water comes to us, and sustains all life."

Thich Nhat Hanh

Montezuma Well in Arizona*
December 2022

Nine Mile Valley
Potter County, Pennsylvania
January 2023

*Read more about Montezuma Well here.

A Visit From The King?

Sometimes one comes upon little bits of information in old newspapers that takes one on a journey to discover more. For example, this bit in a Potter Enterprise from early June in 1939, written by my grandfather in his weekly column.

"Got within 17 miles of the King and Queen of England early this morning. That's the nearest we expect to get to their royal highnesses. They passed through Port Allegany. We rested in the arms of Morpheus."

I turned first to my 99-year-old mother (daughter of the scribe referenced above) who had no recollection of this visit, though she would have been 15 years old at the time. Anglophile/Librarian Teri McDowell, herself a resident of Port Allegany these days, also drew a blank. However, both remembered that the President Roosevelt served hot dogs to the King and Queen on that visit and indeed, it's true!

From the FDR Library and Museum website:

"Even more relaxing and informal was the following day's event - a picnic. FDR brought the couple to his new hilltop retreat, Top Cottage, on the eastern portion of his estate for an old-fashioned, American-style picnic. Much to the horror of FDR's mother Sara Roosevelt, the King and Queen of England were served hot dogs on the front porch of the cottage. Although the press made a great deal about the hot dogs (the picnic made the front page of the New York Times), the menu also included more delicate fare fit for a King and Queen."

More research led me to these gems: An announcement of the impending royal visit appeared in The Potter Enterprise several months before it happened.

It turns out that 2,000 turned out to observe the train as it stopped for water in Port Allegany at 1:00 a.m.

The train carrying the British Royalty passed through this area in the dark of night and a few local state policemen were called to stand guard.

Now I am wondering if there is anyone alive who remembers standing to watch the royal cars lumber by on the railroad tracks in northern Pennsylvania deep in the darkness of a June night.

Hunting Season

It always seemed to me that many in my orbit looked at Thanksgiving as a day to get out of the way to usher in the true Potter County holiday - deer hunting season.

As the daughter of a man who made his living at a grocery store that catered each season to the hunters filling hundreds of God's Country camps, Thanksgiving was the chance to catch a breath before the seven-day-a-week madness that was hunting season. It seems to me the only time my dad missed church was the Sunday before Monday's deer opening when the store was open for the hunters.

Hunting also played a big role in the Metzger family with the senior Arthur guarding his days off from his government job so he'd have plenty of time to hunt with the junior Arthur. Later on, it was our son who carried on the tradition and still later, our crack-shot daughter-in-law.

Ask any of my generation about hunting season, and you'll hear stories of our normally sleepy town crowded with the guys in their red Woolrich hunting togs. It was a good time to be a waitress at one of the town's eateries for those men were often big tippers and the extra hours for early morning breakfasts brought more than pocket change for Christmas shopping. But at the same time, mothers and especially fathers cautioned us youngsters to walk the streets only in a group. As one mother put it "We don't want to be caring for a baby with a red cap next year."

It was common for folks to "take in hunters" each year, offering a bed - often bunk style - and serving two meals a day and packing bag lunches for the hunt. The movie theater had movies all through the week with westerns often the choice.

At the newspaper office, where my mother worked, the big push came just before hunting season as the "Sportsmen's Special" was prepared - each year adding more pages, more advertising and more copy. The genius idea of soliciting hunting stories from subscribers brought even more readers.

.... from 1960

At the paper, excitement continued throughout the two-week hunting season as the newspaper sent a photographer to capture each proud hunter with his/her prey. Thus the "dead deer" issue was born - usually published the week between Christmas and New Year's - when photos of each entry in the Big Buck contest were published. 

It's hard to imagine for all but those of us who remember how to dial a telephone, but Bell Telephone set up special "message stations" in Coudersport and Galeton for several years in the heyday of hunting mania to accommodate the hunters and their need to communicate with folks back home.

And speaking of the newspaper, I leave you with this from my grandfather's weekly column in The Potter Enterprise, penned in 1954.

"This writer was surely glad Monday morning – sour, dreary,
foggy, dark – that he had not lost a deer.
Therefore he did not have to hunt for it."

He continues writing:

"Still it would not have been at all bad to be a member of a
hunting camp with a group of good fellows. Just because he
joins such a group does not mean that he has to ram through
the woods, with bramble and briar digging the cuticle from his carcass; he doesn't have to stand watch on a
runway in the rain and snow and chilling wind.

Nope.

At the camp there is warmth and good, and congenial fellows;
stories, song, wit and wisdom (?) and memories so pleasant
they will last for years to come.

Hunting is only part – a small part – of the pleasure
of a few days away back in the wilderness
with convivial companions.

There may be a thrill - there no doubt is - in leveling
a rifle, drawing careful bead on a prize buck and
seeing him drop while running a full speed.
Never having even shot at a deer, this writer does not know.

But even so, bagging a buck is only part of the
pleasure of hunting. There are scores of sportsmen who
have been coming to this famous hunting ground for years and years, and who have yet to get their first deer.
They come just the same each hunting season and the memories are cherished - so precious money could not buy them.

The Commissioner Shanty

It was too beautiful to stay indoors this afternoon so the chores had to wait while we took a little hike in Penn's Woods. This time it was the Commissioner Trail on Denton Hill.

Wondered why it's called The Commissioner?

Here's an explanation from my grandfather, W.D. "Golly" Fish.

And here's another story about the Commissioner from 1945.

And here's the rest of the story!

Independence Day

On Independence Day in 2022, 246 years after that steamy day in Philadelphia when the Declaration of Independence was signed, I've been thinking of the junior high school version of the American Revolutionary War.  It was all about little factoids to memorize. Lexington and Concord, The Boston Tea Party, the 13 original colonies, the Founding Fathers - Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, the esteemed George Washington with his ill-fitting wooden false teeth. Many of those names would be in the list of Presidents we needed to memorize in order. I'm still able to start that list: Washington, John Adams, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, John Quincy Adams, Jackson and then it gets muddled for me. Then there was the question that Mr. Schaub assured us would be on the test ... what was a cooper?

The only woman I remember learning about was Betsy Ross. She's the woman George Washington visited with a design for a flag for the new country. After a bit of wrangling, she convinced him that the 6-pointed star he had envisioned should be a 5-pointed star. The design featured 13 stars in a blue patch with 13 alternating red and white stripes. And in that little house on a side street adjacent to Independence Hall, Betsy created the first flag.

But here's the thing: The story of this lone famous revolutionary woman is likely not true! This story surfaced during the Centennial, promoted by Ross's family based on stories carried by her children and grandchildren.

(From Encyclopedia Britannica): The first official national flag, formally approved by the Continental Congress on June 14, 1777, was the Stars and Stripes. That first Flag Resolution read, “Resolved, that the flag of the United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field representing a new constellation.” The layout of the stars was left undefined, and many patterns were used by flag makers. The designer of the flag—most likely Congressman Francis Hopkinson, a signer of the Declaration of Independencem, may have had a ring of stars in mind to symbolize the new constellation. Today that pattern is popularly known as the"Betsy Ross flag" although the widely circulated story that she made the first Stars and Stripes and came up with the ring pattern is unsubstantiated. Rows of stars (4-5-4 or 3-2-3-2-3) were common, but many other variations also existed.

Someone Else's Birthday

I missed posting this on my grandfather's birthday - June 6. That would make him 147 in this year when his daughter (my mother) will celebrate her 99th birthday. She's his only surviving offspring, along with seven grandchildren and I'm not going to be able count the great-grandchildren on my fingers.

He shared this story of his birth in his Golly column written in 1964:

"The lightning flashed and the thunder rolled over the backwoods and hills in a humble home in West Union Township, Steuben County, New York, on June 6, so many years ago that no one now living can remember the exact year.

Such was Nature's celebration as Golly entered the world, according to his mother's version of the event.

The year was 1875.

The old house is gone. The owners of the farm have changed several times. The spring, down over the hill, is still gushing forth. clear cold sparkling water.

Golly was only two years old when his family moved from the Barker farm but remembers several incidents that occurred, such as breaking an ancient egg, left as a nest egg, and smearing himself with the smelly contents."

And while I'm on the subject of his birthday, read about how he celebrated his 93rd.

"Well, Golly had a birthday. it was his 93rd. It was Thursday, June 6. He had not talked about it but hully gee, a lot of friends remembered 'that famous day and year.'

There was a lull in the activities at the Enterprise office and shop while the dozen or more employees enjoyed a beautiful birthday cake that appeared. It was just as delicious as it was beautiful. Some cakes are beautiful period.

Greeting cards, a flock of them, from one coast to the other and each brought most pleasing memories. We wish we could say thanks to each one personally."