Tuesday, July 29

Molly and I just spent a few days in Lebanon County, the land of lard and carbs. The kind of stuff that lives in your aorta. Lebanon bologna, scrapple and sticky buns. You could throw Shuey’s Pretzels in there too. Where else would you find people standing in line to buy their pretzels on a Saturday morning?

Miller’s Restaurant. Breakfast of Hunky eggs and scrapple. Best not to know what is in either. My brother-in-law Jack on the left.

Shuey’s Pretzels. Hard or soft, the best you will ever eat. Period.

I love the food but the coffee situation is a bit lacking. The area has been settled by Europeans since the 1720s and the city of Lebanon was laid out in 1753, but they still don’t have much in the way of coffee shops. Lebanon County, Iran, North Korea and a couple other third world countries are about the only places on the planet where you can’t find a Starbucks. They do have a brew pub, the Snitz Creek Brewery, but no Starbucks. I should add that instead of a hamburger with bacon, the Snitz Creek Brewery serves a hamburger sandwiched between thin slices of grilled Lebanon Bologna. It is delicious and I highly recommend it. You can get cheese on it too.

A two-way street in Lebanon. Oh, I’m sorry, it’s West Lebanon. A couple years ago they put in a light to control traffic. Before that, you honked your horn as you approached. The first one to honk their horn had the right of way.

Our Subaru in the two-way street in Jonestown that my sister lives on, heading towards Jonestown Square.

The turn from Jonestown Square onto the two-way street my sister lives on.

We were back there for a couple of reunions. Graduates of the Lebanon High School class of 1972 turn 60 this year so someone thought it would be a good idea to have a party. It was interesting. Let’s just say that time has been better to some than others. I think what startled me most was that around 30 of my classmates, almost 10 % of the class, are dead already. That was kind of like getting smacked with a 2 X 4 between the eyes for me.

The other reunion was for my paternal grandmother’s side of the family. Grandma Guildoo, as I knew her, was a Stover. Her brother was a WWII Naval Aviator nicknamed Smoky Stover. In a dogfight with the Japanese he ran out of ammunition. Rather than leave the fight he took down a Japanese plane by using his propeller to chop off the Japanese’s ailerons (flaps). Later in the war he was shot down, captured, and executed by the Japanese. One of my second cousins was badly mauled by a car bomb in Iraq. First there were doubts he would survive, and then doubts he would walk again. He proved them wrong on both counts. He came in from South Korea where he is working for a defense contractor. I thought it would be good for Molly to see the stock she comes from. May not be pretty but there’s something to them.

Uncle Don’s 1948 “toy” truck. He has an 8-car garage and used to build and race cars. Now he just keeps the truck around for fun.

A toy of the toy.

Molly wanting the toy.

At the class party, retirement was the primary topic of conversation. More than one person was taken aback that I don’t plan to retire back to Lebanon. It would be easy to go back there. Despite the lack of decent coffee I do still like the area. Maybe it’s the genetic connection. Both sides of my family have been there for many generations. I probably have a genetic connection to a larger percentage of the county than should be allowed by law.

I’ve lived longer away from Lebanon than I lived in Lebanon but I still feel some pull. It’s that sense of place thing. Like Delmarva, or Whidbey Island, Washington, or Sand River in the UP, I feel comfortable there.

Don’t know why. Maybe it’s the water. Lebanon County doesn’t have any big water but lots of small water. Just to name a couple watercourses in Lebanon County there is Tulpehocken Creek, the Quitapahilla (the Quittie), the Swatara (the Swattie), Beck’s Creek, Indiantown Run, Trout Run, Pleasant Run, and of course that watercourse of legend, the Snitz Creek. For those that don’t know, Snitz is dried apples. As kids we were told that babies came from the Snitz Creek. I never could figure out the link between dried apples and babies.