Water Under the Bridge: January 2019

Saturday, January 26, 2019

BHS Classes of 1956 and 1957 December 27, 2018

December 27, 2018

BHS Classes of 1956 and 1957

The Bridgeville Area Historical Society continued its series of “Second Tuesday” workshops this month with a discussion of the classes that graduated in 1956 and 1957. These were large classes with 102 graduates in ’56 and 98 the following year.

Once again there was a change in the football coaching staff as Harry Buzzatto took over for Cyril Lane, after serving as his assistant. Thanks to a well-maintained scrapbook belonging to ’56 alumnus Rick Rickenbach we have a wealth of artifacts from that season, ranging from game-day programs to “Bridgeville News” clippings of many of the games.

After a rocky start Coach Buzzatto’s squad put together a successful season which included wins over Scott Township and Crafton capped with a 22 to 0 rout of South Fayette. At the Touchdown Club Banquet following the campaign end “Buddy” Sims and halfback Al Fletcher were named to an All-Star team from the Chartiers Valley area. Tackle Rickenbach and quarterback Rich Ferris made the second team.

The facilitator showed a disquieting newspaper clipping dated January 12, 1956, that reported the formation of the Chartiers Valley Joint School District which included Bridgeville, Scott Township, Heidelberg, and Collier Township.

Although this was probably a good move academically, removing the high school from Bridgeville was a serious blow culturally to a community already reeling from the loss of Main Street businesses to shopping centers in neighboring townships. It is interesting to ponder this decision. If indeed it was necessary for Bridgeville to merge with someone else, why not South Fayette or Upper St. Clair.

On an even more sobering note, the facilitator showed a clipping reporting the death of ’47 alumnus John Schulte in a collision between two U. S. Air Force jets “seven miles in the air over Troy, Ohio”. The Cold War continued to take its toll on our young men.

Another clipping, February 7, 1956, reported the appointment of Ronald and Donald Deep to the Air Force Academy, thanks to Congressman Jim Fulton and Senator Jim Duff. Two months ago we reported that Ron did indeed graduate from the Academy, while Don ended up at Duquesne, and that both had outstanding careers in later life.

Rich Ferris was President of the Class of 1956; Dolores Quaresima, May Queen. We were fortunate to have class member Jerry Pappert participating in the workshop. His comments were a major contributor to its success, especially when he reminisced on playing basketball against Don Hennon. Coached by Ray Donelli, the ’56 hoopsters won their section before losing to Wampum in the playoffs.

Another classmate was Francis “Cisco” Salizzoni. He majored in Business at Penn State, eventually became CEO of USAir and H. R. Block. It is impressive that BHS produced so many business executives in that era.

Thanks to the recruiting efforts of Diane Dolde (Franjione) the 1957 class was represented by five alumni in the workshop. In addition to Diane, they were Ray Browner and his wife Patricia Altmeyer (Browner), Vera Rowlands (Kehm), and Rowene McDonald (Selva). Their comments really brought this class back to life. In addition, Mrs. Kehm showed off an original oil painting of the Bridgeville Public Library when it occupied the building that now serves as the History Center.

Led by Louis Russo, the football team turned in a very respectable performance, winning six and losing three. They were actually in the playoff picture until Chartiers pulled an upset, 24 to 7. A 14 to 0 shutout of South Fayette ended the season on a positive note. The basketball team was not so fortunate in Pat Malarkey’s inaugural season, winning five games while losing fifteen.

The 1957 “Lincoln Log” was dedicated to “one, whose light of influence will guide us for years to come, Gloria Lutz”. Tributes to her at the occasion of her recent passing suggest that that prophecy did indeed come true.

Class officers included President Ken Bonardi, Vice President Ron Erbrecht, Secretary Judy McKee, and Treasurer Georgianna Chappel. Judy also was selected as May Queen. Marlene Brown was Maid of Honor; Patricia Altmeyer was in the court.

This was the second year of existence for the Chess Club. One of our “Hilltop” neighbors, “Teddy Godwin” was its Secretary; Gilbert Colussy was identified as Tournament Champion.

The ’57 Yearbook included a number of photographs associated with formal dances – girls decorating the gymnasium beforehand, couples dancing cheek to cheek, etc. – that brought back memories of lovely evenings six decades ago.

The facilitator showed a clipping reporting a Post-Prom party at the Sports Haven, with rhythm and blues star Etta James and disc jockey Jay Michael as guests. It was disappointing that none of the classmates at the workshop had any recollection of that event.

The Historical Society has a copy of the 1957 Commencement Program in its archives. There were eight speakers that year, including Diane Dolde. Her subject was “Schools for Better Citizens”.

Next month, the Second Tuesday Workshop will discuss George Washington’s well documented trip into the Ohio Country in 1770, a trip that almost certainly ended with his returning to Pittsburgh on the Catfish Path, two blocks from the History Center. It is scheduled for January 8, 2019.

In February we will return to our trip through the history of Bridgeville High School, focusing on the Classes of 1958 and 1959. The series will conclude in April with the 1960 Class.

Ghosts of Christmas Past December 20, 2018

December 20, 2018

Ghosts of Christmas Past

As we look forward to heading to Maui and spending Christmas with our children and grand-children, our thoughts return to memories of eight decades of “Christmas Past”. The common themes running through them are family, fellowship, and optimism about the future.

In 1938 the Oylers were living in their new home on Lafayette Street. My brother, Joe, was a one-year-old, too young to understand all the holiday fuss. As he matured in the next few years, it was rewarding for me to see Christmas through the eyes of a young child. This experience was repeated thirty-five years later with our children and, another thirty-five years after that, with our grand-children.

Memories of the holidays in the 1940s begin with a trip into the City on a Saturday morning with our mother, to see the decorated windows at the department stores and to visit Toyland in each of them. First Horne’s, then Gimbel’s, then Frank and Seder’s, and finally Kaufmann’s. Sandwiched in between were stops at the Five and Ten’s on Fifth Avenue. I especially remember a Marx electric train running the full length of a sales counter, negotiating a tight helix spiral to ascend four or five feet, retracing its route on a overhead track, and returning down a spiral to its starting point. Mother had to pry me away – I would have watched it for hours.

The Bridgeville Community Carol Festival was another special event, with choirs from each of the churches parading through “downtown” before meeting in front of the grade school where everyone joined in singing the old familiar songs. The climax each year was Dr. Pigossi coming out on the balcony of the school and belting out “Ave Maria”.

Christmas Eve services at Bethany Church were always memorable, even the year I was drafted to depict Balthasar in a “We Three Kings” pageant. I looked the part thanks to a fine costume, acted the part well as I paraded down the aisle to the altar, and then destroyed the illusion by trying to sing “Myrrh I bring, its bitter perfume, etc.” Once again Alma Weise’s evaluation of my musical talent turned out to be accurate.

Joe and I had a special Christmas Eve privilege – we were allowed to open presents that had arrived by mail. My father’s brother Joe and sister Ethel were surrogates; they served as the paternal grand-parents we never had. Their gifts were always thoughtful and appropriate. I was guaranteed a Zane Gray book, which immediately initiated a trip to my bedroom to devour it.

I have a nearly complete collection of all the books Zane Grey wrote. When I opened the first one that I pulled off the shelf, “The Heritage of the Desert”, I found it inscribed, “John F. Oyler, Dec. 25, 1941, E. C. O.”, a gift from Aunt Ethel when I was ten years old.

Published in 1910, this was Grey’s first western novel, the tale of an “easterner” in the deserts of southeastern Utah. I am looking forward to reading it again and reliving his adventures among the Mormons, Navajos, and dastardly cattle rustlers.

Like all children we could never wait for Christmas morning to come. We would creep downstairs at the first sign of daylight, then wait patiently for our parents to awake and join us. Our tree always sat in the corner of the living room, by the stairs to the second floor, gaily decorated with ornaments from both of our parents’ families.

We never had a train under our Christmas tree. Like all model railroading buffs, we had a semi-permanent setup in the basement, a figure-eight platform our father had fabricated. My train, which still runs well, was of 1937 vintage. Originally it consisted of a locomotive, tender, dump car, lumber car, and caboose. These were all four-wheeled cars that made no effort to look authentic.

In 1938 Lionel introduced a new line with cars that became to look like their full-size prototypes. We added a pea-green hopper car, complete with a pair of four-wheeled trucks at each end. Future years added crossing gates and a watchman’s shanty, just like the one Mr. Pennetti manned down at the railroad station.

Christmas afternoon was dedicated to visiting our friends in the neighborhood and admiring their trees. A favorite destination was the home of Amos and Gary Jones; their parents always set the neighborhood standard for tree and train layout. Another Mecca was Rothermunds’. Bob, Dick, and Ron were avid board gamers; it was fun to check out their newest acquisitions.

In those days lavish outdoor holiday decorations were uncommon in Bridgeville. Mt. Lebanon was an exception, especially at the mansions in Virginia Manor. We always saved one evening in Christmas week for driving there and admiring their magnificent displays.

One wonders if Christmas seventy years ago really was that special or if we have encouraged selective memory to erase all of its less-than-perfect aspects. It certainly seems to have been the “kinder, gentler era” that President George H. W. Bush remembered decades later.

I don’t think family ties are any weaker today than they were then, at least among the folks I know, but I can’t say the same regarding neighborhood relationships. I am fortunate to live in a nice neighborhood with fine neighbors, but there is nothing like the fellowship that we had on Lafayette Street in the 1940s. And I am confident that was typical for neighborhoods throughout Bridgeville in those days.

It is easy to blame this on our transient society today, with neighbors coming and going frequently at regular intervals. Nonetheless our relationship with the semi-permanent families who have been here for many years has never approached the extended-family feel we shared with our Lafayette Street neighbors.

It is ironic somehow that many of our sacred Christmas traditions are descended from pagan roots and the celebration of the winter solstice. Traditionally this was the time when our ancestors rejoiced that the sun had finally decided to turn around and let the days again grow longer. Cheer up, Spring will eventually come!

It certainly is appropriate that the eternal promise inherent in the birth of the Christ Child be celebrated at this same time of year. Regardless of one’s religious persuasion, the Christmas story is the ultimate expression of optimism. Through the Great Depression, World War II, and all the upheavals that have followed, we have always managed to find hope for the future each Christmas season. This year is no exception.

The Donora Smog Tragedy December 13, 2018

December 13, 2018

The Donora Smog Tragedy

The Bridgeville Area Historical Society’s November program meeting featured a presentation on the October 27, 1948, Donora Smog Tragedy by Mr. Brian Charlton, curator of the Donora Smog Museum. In addition to his responsibilities with the museum, Mr. Charlton is also an accomplished high school history teacher.

In reality, the Donora Historical Society and the Donora Smog Museum are a single entity. Although the society’s museum is dominated by artifacts and information dealing with the smog tragedy, it also houses an impressive collection of items dealing with the rich history of the Donora area.

In 1899 the area that eventually became Donora had a population of twelve persons. The Union Steel Company, through the Union Improvement Company, acquired about four hundred acres of land along a large bend in the Monongahela River, announced plans to build a major steel mill, and began to lay out building lots for a new community.

The name Donora is a combination of names of the two industrialists who organized the Union Steel Company – William H. Donner and R. B. Mellon (actually Mr. Mellon’s wife Nora).

By the mid-twentieth century the mill complex, now owned and operated by a U. S. Steel subsidiary, the American Steel and Wire Company, employed eight thousand workers; Donora’s population peaked at about fourteen thousand residents. Five thousand of the workers were employed at the zinc works, the largest in the world at that time, producing the zinc required for galvanizing steel throughout North America.

The zinc smelting process was hazardous and dangerous work; the speaker did a good job of documenting this with photographs. In addition, its off-gases contained a number of pollutants, notably hydrogen fluoride and sulfur dioxide. A dozen tall stacks discharged the gases high enough in the atmosphere to allow them to disperse safely.

Late in October, 1948, there occurred a temperature inversion, a meteorological phenomenon that prevents the normal upward movement of air near the earth’s surface. The fog that formed quickly trapped smoke and other particulate matter, forming smog, a term originally coined in London in 1905.

Smog was a common occurrence in this area in those days. I certainly remember being in downtown Pittsburgh in the 1940s when the smog was so thick that the street lights were on at midday. I also remember walking across the Smithfield Street Bridge and being unable to see the shore at either end. Although we are sure this smog was deleterious to our health, it lacked the toxic content of the Donora version.

The Donora smog was filled with hydrogen fluoride and sulfur dioxide, both of which attacked the lungs of everyone in the community. It lasted five days, before heavy rains broke the inversion. At this time the smog is credited with twenty seven fatalities; the long term death toll is undoubtedly greater. Hundreds more were hospitalized.

According to the speaker, the magnitude of this tragedy was so great that it initiated the environmental movement that ultimately produced the Clean Air Act of 1970, the Environmental Protection Agency (also in 1970), and the Federal Emergency Management Agency in 1978. The Smog Museum’s slogan is “Clean Air Started Here”.

Mr. Charlton prides himself on being a dedicated historian. His summary included a plea that we all learn from history, a suggestion we heartily endorse. He mentioned in passing that he found it frustrating that the folks who survived the disaster are unwilling to talk about it, a comment that raises several historical questions.

There certainly is a contrast between the dangerous working conditions in the mills and the eagerness of so many blue-collar workers to put up with them. As bad as this kind of life seems to us today, it apparently was much better than its alternatives at the time.

Similarly, we were shown disturbing photographs of football games and community parades, with smoke pouring out of the mill stacks immediately in the background. Apparently these people were willing to live in such an environment as long as it provided them with meaningful employment. Donora owed its existence to the mill; no American Steel and Wire, no Donora.

Imagine western Pennsylvania if we had not been blessed with coal, oil, and gas natural resources, the fossil fuels that today’s environmentalists want to ban. Pittsburgh would be Beaver Falls or Wheeling; Allegheny County would struggle to support a population of thirty or forty thousand.

Somehow the generations that preceded us were willing, even eager, to accept working conditions and environmental consequences that today are totally unacceptable. It is our challenge today to find a practical compromise somewhere between these two extremes.

Another unsettling thought is that our society used to have a large number of employment opportunities for young men and women who lacked either the motivation or intellectual capability of advanced education and “white-collar” jobs. As we continue to de-emphasize (or export) manufacturing jobs, we magnify the problem these folks have finding meaningful work. We must find worthwhile employment opportunities for them, as well as for their highly motivated colleagues.

If indeed we want to learn from history, it is important that we consider all of its aspects. It is not obvious that society in the twenty-first century is any better equipped to solve its problems that it was a century ago.

The next Bridgeville Area Historical Society program is scheduled for 1:30 pm on Sunday, January 27, 2019, in the Chartiers Room, Bridgeville Volunteer Fire Department. Graphologist and Handwriting Expert Valerie Weil will discuss “Expressed in Writing”.

Customer Friendly December 6, 2018

December 6, 2018

Customer Friendly

The capability of the collection of electronic/mechanical devices that populate our homes today is remarkable. One of my most useful tools is my printer.

Actually the term printer is a major understatement — my printer is a copy machine, a scanner, a fax machine, and a wireless communication instrument, as well as a powerhouse for printing files from my computer.

It is an indispensable asset to my hobby of pen-and-ink sketching, providing properly scaled images for me. It was equally valuable for my wife’s painting avocation, because of its ability to reproduce subtle differences in color. When she was in her “sepia phase”, it provided us with the ability to convert any monochromatic image into exactly the right shade.

About a year and a half ago I decided it was time for me to retire a battered old veteran which had served me well for many years. I was pleased to learn that I could replace it with a powerful machine for about one hundred and twenty-five dollars and have been equally pleased with the performance of the replacement.

Of course, despite the modest initial cost of the printer, its life cycle cost was dominated by the expense of replacing ink cartridges. At my level of usage I easily spent more money on ink in the first year than I had spent buying the printer. I was reminded of Gillette Razor’s business plan based on giving away safety razors and profiting on the sale of blades.

Two weeks ago I began to experience streaky prints, a sure sign that my cartridges were running dry. I accessed the troubleshooting screen and confirmed that was indeed the case. A trip to Office Depot and a significant financial investment provided me with three replacement cartridges.

As is the usual case, my careful installation of the new cartridges rewarded me with confirmation that they were indeed official ones, not some cheap imitation. However, when I tried to print a color image, all I got was black and white.

Long ago I learned that the first step in resolving a technology problem in the twenty-first century is to shut down the device completely and then reboot it, hoping that returning to factory defaults will eliminate the problem.

That didn’t work this time, so once again I accessed the troubleshooting screen on the printer, followed all the instructions, ending up printing a diagnostic page to be scanned for resolution of the problem. The printer, surprisingly, refused to scan the page even though it easily scanned other images upon command.

I escalated my diagnostic efforts by downloading the user manual for the printer on my laptop computer. This led to another sequence of steps, including cleaning the print-head, and another dead end.

At this point I decided to give up and call the technical services department of the corporation that supplied the printer, so I accessed their website and immediately encountered an imposing series of “Frequently Asked Questions”, none of which were appropriate to my difficulty.

In frustration I searched for a phone number – if only I could talk to a competent human being! No such luck, the best advice I could find was to join a user chat group and hope someone there would help me.

Even that was difficult. “Wiseoldowl” was already taken as a username, as was “Wiseroldowl”. For the third time in less than a year I had to settle for “Wisestoldowl”. I wonder who my competitors are and how wise they actually are.

Eventually I achieved access to the chat room and reported my problem in great detail. A day or so later I got a reply from someone claiming to be an employee of the company who built and sold my printer. Out of pity for me, he supplied me with an eight hundred number that should get me to a techie.

I was so thrilled with this privilege that I placed a call immediately. Sure enough I found myself foundering in the familiar automated answering environment, but somehow was able to make contact with a live human being who described himself as a technical service specialist.

He was wonderful – patient, sensitive, and respectful. He started through a long list of questions and suggestions. Had I tried shutting down and rebooting? ….cleaning the print-head? …..reloading the initial software? etc., etc., etc.

Once I satisfied him I had done all the prescribed activities, he asked for the serial number of the machine, and confirmed I had been able to find it. He then told me to remove the magenta cartridge and tell him its serial number. Removing it was easy, finding the number required a very bright light and a lot of imagination.

His response to the cartridge number was to advise me to put it back in place, making sure it was properly seated. At that point he announced, “Now that we have completed all the diagnostic steps, it is safe for us to conclude that the printer is broken”. Somehow I resisted the temptation to respond, “Welcome to the club!”

He confirmed that the printer was out of warranty, then asked me to stay on the line while he discussed my case with his manager to see what could be done to help me. Déjà vu – I was back in a used car showroom being manipulated by “Slick Willie”.

Sure enough his manager was sympathetic and allowed him to sell me a replacement printer at discount – eighty nine dollars. I was immediately grateful at their largesse in getting me out of my problem, so I confirmed the order, thanked him profusely, and hung up.

As I pondered why they were so good to me I realized that they had sold me a new machine, at their wholesale cost, and had committed me to a future continuing to buy cartridges from them indefinitely.

Of course there is also the possibility that the whole thing was a massive scam aimed at stealing my identity. But which identity would that be?

Am I a fortunate consumer, grateful that I have been treated so favorably by a giant multi-national corporation? Or a gullible octogenarian who has been skillfully manipulated by a fast-talking techie? Or a shrewd technology consumer who has managed to navigate his way out of a puzzling problem?

I will leave that decision to my readers. Personally I am leaning toward “gullible”.

Friday, January 25, 2019

The Forbes Campaign November 29, 2018

November 29, 2018

The Forbes Expedition

For its November “Second Tuesday” workshop the Bridgeville Area Historical Society continued its series on George Washington’s exploits in western Pennsylvania by focusing on the 1758 Forbes Expedition. Its mission was to capture Fort Du Quesne and expel the French from the Ohio Country.

Immediately following Braddock’s defeat in 1755 the frontier was left defenseless against Indian attacks. Washington, as commander of the Virginia Regiment, was left with the responsibility of protecting the settlers over a wide area stretching from the Potomac River to the North Carolina border.

Archives of newspapers from the colonies as well as from Great Britain are filled with accounts of his exploits in the next three years. In April, 1756, members of Washington’s regiment fought a losing battle against the natives at the Battle of Great Cacapon. That summer a campaign against Fort Du Quesne was planned, with Washington’s regiment coupled with a Maryland regiment; it never got beyond the planning stage.

In May, Washington “with about seventy men was invested at Winchester by a large detachment of French and Indians”, but “routed the enemy and killed a good number of them”. Communication with Fort Cumberland was cut off.

“False news” is not something invented in the twenty-first century. On July 24, 1756, it was reported that Washington had been killed in a battle. Seventeen days later a report states that he has captured Fort Du Quesne, with the support of a large contingent of Cherokees.

In October, he is reported at Fort Cumberland with about five hundred militiamen, pursuing several hundred Indians who have killed and captured twenty families. On November 16, 1756, we learn that Washington has survived a skirmish with the enemy and arrived at Williamsburg with “four prisoners and eight scalps”. A year later he was back at Fort Cumberland, preparing for an attack by several thousand French and Indians.

The war was also serious in Pennsylvania. The Battle of Sideling Hill, April 1, 1756, was a bloody encounter between Delawares led by Captain Jacobs and Pennsylvania militia led by Captain Alexander Culbertson, following an Indian raid on Fort McCord in the Cumberland Valley.

Benjamin Franklin had ordered the construction of a line of forts – Pomfret Castle, Granville, Shirley, and Lyttleton – in the Juniata Valley. On August 1, 1756, Granville was captured by French soldiers (Captain de Villiers) and Indian warriors (Captain Jacobs). Lieutenant Edward Armstrong was killed during the attack.

In retribution, Armstrong’s brother John, led a raid against the Delaware stronghold at Kittanning. Captain Jacobs was killed during the battle; the entire village was burned to the ground.

Meanwhile, in Europe, the great powers had finally decided to pick sides and officially begin what came to be known as “the Seven Years War”. A truly global conflict, it has been called “World War Zero” by many historians. After France attacked the British colony on Minorca, in the Mediterranean Sea, the English formally declared war on them.

Great Britain’s allies were Prussia, Portugal, and Hanover; France was allied with Austria, Russia, Sweden, and Spain. William Pitt had become England’s Prime Minister. His policy was to exploit their naval supremacy and attack the enemy all around the world, while relying on financing the Prussians to carry the brunt of the land warfare in Europe.

Prussia proved to be an appropriate ally. Frederick II (the Great) had inherited a powerful, well-disciplined army from his father, Frederick I, as well as the military skill to use it effectively. He is considered one of the four or five greatest military leaders of all time.

A newspaper clipping dated February 25, 1757, reports the promotion of Lieutenant Colonel John Forbes to full Colonel, in command of the Seventeenth Regiment of Foot, and their assignment for duty in North America. By September they were in Nova Scotia, part of an army being formed to attack the French stronghold at Louisburg.

The next year, 1758, the British announced their plans to carry out a three-pronged attack against the French, a scheme very similar to the one that failed in 1755. General Jeffrey Amherst, with the Navy and about 13,000 troops, would attempt to capture Louisburg. With over 18,000 men, General James Abercrombie, would attempt to overwhelm the enemy in upstate New York and capture Crown Point.

By now Forbes had been promoted to Brigadier-General and sent to Philadelphia with instructions to lead an expedition against Fort Du Quesne. His army included two thousand British regulars – Archibald Montgomerie’s 77^thScots Highlanders and Henri Bouquet’s 60^thRoyal Americans; two thousand Pennsylvania militiamen; and two thousand Virginians, commanded by George Washington.

The direct route from Philadelphia to the frontier led through Lancaster to Carlisle, at the head of the Cumberland Valley, crossing the Susquehanna River at Harris’ Ferry. Forbes’ advance guard, led by second-in-command Bouquet, quickly converted the Carlisle stronghold into a major supply depot. On June 5, 1758 Bouquet moved from Carlisle to Shippensburg, the last significant settlement in the west.

The Pennsylvania troops were sent ahead to improve the road west, through Chamber’s Mill to Fort Loudon, then up Path Valley and Cowan’s Gap to Fort Lyttleton. This road had been originally built in 1755 by Captain James Burd as a supply route to support General Braddock.

By June 28 the advance forces had reached Raystown, a small trading village established in 1732 by trader John Wray. It became the site of another major military fortification, Fort Bedford. A minor fort was also built halfway between Fort Lyttleton and Raystown, to protect the crossing of the Raystown Branch of the Juniata River.

By now it was obvious that Forbes’ strategy was to advance cautiously to the west, building strong points at regular intervals along his route. Washington, with the Virginia troops, was at Fort Cumberland, assuming that the route to Fort Du Quesne would follow the old Braddock’s Road. He set his troops to work building a road from Cumberland to Raystown, anticipating that Forbes’ army would follow it south.

Late in July Washington learned that Bouquet favored a more direct route, due west. It would be shorter and would avoid crossing the Youghiogheny and Monongahela Rivers. Once his scouts confirmed this was feasible, Bouquet convinced General Forbes to ignore Washington’s objections.

The controversy was had consequences far beyond military/logistical considerations. Both Pennsylvania and Virginia claimed what is now southwestern Pennsylvania, based on ambiguous wording in their grants from the Crown. In addition, Washington was convinced the decision was a bad one from the military standpoint. Nonetheless he was over-ruled and instructed to move his regiments to Raystown.

Suffering from dysentery, Forbes was following behind with the bulk of the army, reaching Shippensburg on August 12. Colonel James Burd had pressed on across Allegheny and Laurel Ridges to Loyalhanna Creek, where another impressive military fortification was constructed. Named Fort Ligonier in honor of Prime Minister Pitt’s advisor, General John Ligonier, it was considered an appropriate base for the final assault on Du Quesne.

Bouquet arrived at Fort Ligonier on September 7 and promptly sent a large force toward Fort Duquesne, on a reconnaissance mission. The contingent of Highlanders was led by Major James Grant. When they reached the hill overlooking the fort, on September 14, Grant elected to “demonstrate”, in the hope that he could encourage the enemy to come out and fight.

His hopes were realized when that did indeed occur, resulting in another disastrous defeat. Half of Grant’s forces were lost; he was captured by the enemy. This apparently encouraged the French and Indians to count-attack. On October 12, they mounted a fierce attack on Fort Ligonier, lasting three hours. When it became obvious the fortification was much too strong, they withdrew to Fort Du Quesne, ready to spend the winter there.

In the interim two disconnected events occurred that ultimately sealed the fate of Fort Du Quesne. On August 27, a British force led by Lieutenant Colonel John Bradstreet had defeated the defenders of Fort Frontenac, eliminating a major component of the French supply chain for Du Quesne. Located where the St. Lawrence River leaves Lake Ontario, Frontenac was essential for Du Quesne’s future.

On October 26, the Governors of Pennsylvania met with leaders of the Iroquois, Delaware, and Shawnee nations and signed a treaty that theoretically took them out of the war. In return for guarantees that their land west of Allegheny Ridge would be closed to settlers, the Indians agreed to no longer support the French.

Seriously ill, General Forbes arrived at Fort Ligonier in a litter on November 2. He called a council of war with his senior officers to discuss long term strategy. The general consensus was that the judicious thing to do was to leave a strong contingent at Fort Ligonier and Fort Bedford and to retire the bulk of the army to Philadelphia, planning to resume the campaign in the Spring.

The following evening a group of French and Indian raiders was reported at Fort Ligonier, apparently attempting to run off the horses. Forbes sent a detachment of Virginians, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Hugh Mercer to investigate. When a sharp skirmish resulted, he then sent Washington with another contingent to support Mercer.

Somehow Mercer’s troops mistook the Virginians for the enemy and began to fire on them. Realizing what was happening, Washington rode between the opposing lines, knocking the muzzles of his men’s muskets up and ordering them to cease fire. Nonetheless fourteen of his troops were killed by “friendly fire”.

During the skirmish Mercer’s men had captured three prisoners, one of whom reported that the French were low on provisions and that the fort was undermanned. Forbes sent a column led by Washington forward. When they arrived at the Forks of the Ohio, on November 25, they were greeted by explosions and smoke. The defenders had destroyed their fort and escaped down the Ohio.

Washington gave Colonel John Armstrong the honor of raising the Union Jack over the ruins of Fort Du Quesne. When General Forbes arrived, again in a litter, he celebrated by writing a letter to William Pitt in which he announced that the new fort to be built on the site would be named for the Prime Minister.

Colonel Mercer and two hundred men were left to occupy the ruins. They built a small fort along the Monongahela River to house them for the winter; the construction of the magnificent Fort Pitt would begin in 1759.

George Washington had seen the Forks of the Ohio for the first time five years earlier. His attempts to return had been frustrated twice. Despite his disagreement with his commander’s strategy, he had served faithfully, and, on at least one occasion, courageously. Nonetheless, his application for a commission in the British Regular Army was again rejected.

Reluctantly he returned to Virginia, to woo Martha Custis and to assume the life of a gentleman planter at Mount Vernon, a life he would enjoy for the next sixteen years.

The Allegheny City Ragtime Orchestra November 22, 2018

November 22, 2018

The Allegheny City Ragtime Orchestra

The Andrew Carnegie Free Library and Music Hall is a major cultural asset in this local area, regularly offering a wide variety of outstanding entertainment and historical programs. It was my privilege recently to attend one that combined both genres.

In commemoration of the Centennial of the Armistice that ended World War I, the Allegheny City Ragtime Orchestra presented a program of World War I era music, largely focusing on compositions by James Reese Europe.

Born in 1880 in Mobile, Alabama, Europe was “the leading figure on the African-American music scene of New York City in the 1910s”. His Clef Club Orchestra made history with the first “proto-jazz” concert at Carnegie Hall in 1912. His orchestra opened that concert with “The Clef Club March”; in tribute, it was also the Allegheny City Ragtime Orchestra’s opening selection in the concert I attended.

Europe and his Society Orchestra performed regularly with the popular dance team Irene and Vernon Castle during the years when they were introducing the Turkey Trot, the Grizzly Bear, and, finally, the Foxtrot.

The Ragtime Orchestra played a number of songs that Europe composed for the Castles, including “The Castle Walk”, “Castle’s Lame Duck”, and “The Castle House Rag”. All told, they performed fifteen different selections, including a medley from the 1921 Broadway show “Shuffle Along” with music and lyrics by two of Europe’s colleagues, Eubie Blake and Noble Sissle.

When the United States entered World War I, Europe and Sissle enlisted in the 369^thInfantry Regiment, the first African-American unit to go to France. The 369^thserved as an integral unit in the French Army and is credited with seeing the most days of combat (191) and suffering the most casualties (1500) of any American regiment.

Europe was director of the 369^thRegimental Marching Band; Sissle, its bandmaster and vocalist. They are credited with introducing ragtime music to Europe, as well as serving as outstanding morale boosters. Unfortunately, Europe’s career was short in 1919 when he was killed by a percussionist in his orchestra.

The Allegheny City Ragtime Orchestra was created by Tom Roberts in 2012 to preserve the heritage of ragtime composers and musicians in the Pittsburgh area. This was my first opportunity to hear them in person; it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

Tom Roberts is a remarkably versatile musician, whom we have seen in a wide variety of roles. To begin with, he is a world-class performer of early jazz piano, with special emphasis on the Harlem stride piano style. He has been an integral part of Vince Giordano’s Nighthawks, toured as musical director for Leon Redbone , and appeared on “The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson” and “A Prairie Home Companion”.

His arranging achievements include the soundtrack for the Martin Scorsese film “The Aviator”, for the Jim Cullum Jazz Band on the program “Riverwalk Jazz Live from the Landing”, and for a Louis Armstrong concert by the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra.

We have also seen him perform original music that he has composed as accompaniment for silent movies, at the Hollywood Theater. One of his specialties is composing music for Charlie Chaplin silent films. His ability to juxtapose elegant music with Chaplin’s slapstick is particularly appealing.

Roberts plays keyboard for a local trio called “Red Beans and Rice”, that specializes in New Orleans Rhythm and Blues and ‘50s Rock. They dress like the Blues Brothers would if they were triplets; I must recuse myself if I am requested to comment on their musicality.

My first exposure to Tom Roberts was at a lecture where the depth of his knowledge of a jazz historian was immediately obvious. I think his subject was Jelly Roll Morton; his presentation brought Morton to life. I was especially impressed with a lecture entitled “The Forgotten History of Pittsburgh Jazz: Pittsburgh in the Roaring Twenties”.

The Ragtime Orchestra included a rhythm section of Roberts on keyboard, Jose Puentes on String Bass, and Joel Martinez on percussion; Maureen Conlon Gutierrez on violin, Elisa Kohanski on cello, Kira Bokalders on clarinet, Julie McGough on flute, Galen McKinney on cornet, and Aaron Pisula on trombone. Each of them came across as an excellent individual musician; together they play superbly in ensemble. A week later when I went to the Pittsburgh Opera production of “Hansel and Gretel”, I was not surprised that three of them were playing in the pit orchestra.

Vocalist Michael Warren was an excellent complement to the orchestra. He sang the World War I hit “How Ya Gonna Keep ‘em down on the Farm (After They’ve Seen Paree)?”, popularized by James Reese Europe’s orchestra in 1919; Europe’s “Goodnight Angeline”; and a medley of Sissle/Blake “Shuffle Along” songs terminating with “I’m Just Wild About Harry”.

This was an evening planned especially for an audience fascinated by music and history, and it was a major success. I eagerly anticipate my next opportunity to hear and see the Allegheny City Ragtime Orchestra again.

The Home Front in World War II November 15, 2018

November 15, 2018

The Home Front in World War II

The Bridgeville Area Historical Society welcomed back one of its favorite speakers, Todd DePastino, for its October program meeting. Known primarily as the Director of the popular non-profit Veterans Breakfast Club, an activity focused on helping veterans “ensure that this living history will never be forgotten”, Dr. DePastino is a historian and writer specializing in the United States in mid-twentieth century.

His specific topic for this presentation was the Home Front in World War II. He began by quoting President Roosevelt in a statement that the war would not be won because of the valor of our troop nor the superiority of our equipment, but by the fact that we could out-produce the rest of the world in munitions. Quantity would prevail over quality.

I presumed we were about to hear about the monumental manufacturing accomplishments that did occur on the Home Front – mass production of airplanes, tanks, and ships – with special attention to the role played by inexperienced female workers (Rosie the Riveter). Instead he shifted abruptly to a completely different subject, the social-economic effects of taxation, investment in war bonds, price control, and rationing.

These were equally relevant topics; nonetheless I wished we could have discussed the contribution of our local industries to the war effort. We know that Flannery Bolt won an Army-Navy “E” award for its production of machine gun barrels; perhaps this is a valid subject for one of our future “Second Tuesday” workshops.

The speaker’s review of taxation was quite revealing. He showed an exhibit of federal spending as a percentage of Gross Domestic Product (GDP). In World War II it peaked at forty seven percent (Today it is at twenty five percent). To achieve this, the personal income tax rate was dramatically increased. Prior to the war only eight percent of the fifty million wage earners paid any income tax.

At the peak of the war the minimum tax rate was twenty three percent (for people earning five hundred dollars a year); the maximum rate for folks earning more than $200,000 per year was ninety four percent. Even that was not sufficient for the President. He unsuccessfully attempted to impose a rate of one hundred percent on all annual income above twenty-five thousand dollars.

A parallel effort to help finance the war effort was the introduction of war bonds. According to Dr. DePastino, this was done primarily to deter inflation. In the first World War the consumer price index went up about thirty percent in two years, as a consequence of the shortage of consumer goods. This time the federal economists sought to prevent a repetition by encouraging consumers to invest their discretionary income in War Bonds.

Although the President wanted this to be a compulsory requirement, Secretary of the Treasury Henry Morgenthau persuaded him that a voluntary program would appeal to the ordinary citizen’s sense of patriotism and allow him or her to be part of the War Effort. The result was an outpouring of one hundred and eighty-six billion dollars, enough to pay for more than half of the war’s expenses.

The most popular bond was the twenty–five-dollar version. A patriot would invest $18.75 at a return of 2.9% interest. Ten years later the bond could be redeemed for $25.00. Frequently the cost of the bond would be covered by the purchase of savings stamps, typically twenty-five cents apiece, that would be accumulated in a book until the required total was reached.

Consumer price control was another government experiment in managing the economy. At its peak, the Office of Price Administration was able to freeze prices on ninety percent of the consumer goods. Despite an aggressive propaganda effort to popularize this effort, it was greatly resented by the public. Unscrupulous retailers often coupled sales of controlled items with items that were not controlled but offered at exorbitant prices.

Rationing was the final tool in the managed economy; it too was unpopular. The first item to be rationed was sugar, an item that was indeed in very short supply. It was hoped that this move would ensure that every consumer got a fair, albeit reduced, share in the commodity. Initially sugar was rationed to one half pound per week per person. Coupon books were provided to each household; the coupons eventually were collected and redeemed by the local ration boards.

Next came coffee, quickly followed by shoes (one pair per person every six months). Gasoline was especially restricted. Most drivers received “A” cards, that allowed them three or four gallons of gas per week. Exceptions were made for war workers, who needed a car to get to work, and for other “essential” drivers.

Apparently gasoline rationing was primarily aimed at reducing replacement of automobile and truck tires. The Japanese early success in the war had cut us off from our traditional supply of rubber; synthetic rubber was just beginning to be developed. Families were limited to five tires, regardless of the number of vehicles they owned.

Eventually each family had two ration books. “Red” coupons covered all meat, butter, fat, oils, and most cheeses. “Blue” coupons covered soup, baby food, ketchup, canned goods, juices, and dry beans. Each item had a specific point value which changed frequently. To make change, a set of red and blue fiber board dime-sized coins was made available to the retailers.

The logistics of such a system is difficult to imagine. Small wonder the federal government grew so rapidly in those days. It is not surprising that the entire program led to a massive black market, with unscrupulous suppliers taking advantage of consumers with surplus money.

Dr. DePastino is a dynamic speaker, particularly dealing with subjects from the era in which he specializes; it is always a treat to attend one of his presentations. We were a little disappointed nonetheless that this specific talk was so general. It is hard to imagine discussing this subject in Bridgeville without mentioning Eddie Croft and the Junior Commandos, for example. My earlier suggestion of a future workshop on this subject as it applies to Bridgeville looks even more promising.

The next program will be presented at 7:30 pm on November 27, 2018 in the Chartiers Room of the Bridgeville Volunteer Fire Department. Mr. Brian Charlton, Curator-Archivist of the Donora Historical Society, will discuss “The 1948 Smog Tragedy, Donora, Pa.”