Water Under the Bridge

Thursday, June 4, 2020

The Mystery of the Missing Canine. June 11, 2020

June 11, 2020

The Mystery of the Missing Canine

For a number of years, a statue of a dog has been a landmark in our woods. It was about thirty inches high, portraying a Golden Retriever obediently sitting back on its haunches (hunkered down?). No one seems to know how it got there, although some of the older eccentrics in the neighborhood apparently have fabricated unlikely scenarios.

My favorite is the story that a farmer living in the century old house across the road at the west end of the woods was having a problem with a dog that simply wouldn’t obey. One day the dog ran off and refused to come home. When his owner finally located him, he threatened him, “If you don’t come to me this very minute, I will turn you into stone”. The dog didn’t, and the farmer did, and since then we have enjoyed the statue.

Another theory is that the dog really is a troll-like creature that comes to life at midnight and wanders around all night, returning to its home base before dawn, at which time it reverts back to being stone. This fantasy is supported by the fact that, although he is always at the same place, sometimes he is facing a different direction than he was the previous evening.

At some point we learned that his name is Winston; perhaps someone thought he looked like Churchill. At any rate, checking him out regularly was a necessary stop on every hike through the woods, taking special note of which direction he was facing.

Early in December we were shocked to see that he had disappeared. Despite the fact that he weighs several hundred pounds, there was no evidence of his being dragged, no sign of any disturbance whatsoever. That evening I posted a query on “Next Door Neighborhoods”, inquiring if anyone knew what had happened to him.

A day or so later a gentleman named David Kammenzind replied, “What did he look like?” Regrettably, I failed to respond. Since then there have been occasional posts on the “Next Door Neighborhoods” website, mostly folks lamenting his disappearance. Recently, however, I noted one from Mr. Kammenzind, the first respondent.

This time I contacted him, and learned that a dog statue had indeed been deposited on his front porch, that he called the police, and that had been taken away. He even produced a photo that clearly identified it as our missing Winston.

I immediately emailed the local police department, prompting phone call confirming that the statue was in their possession. The next morning I was contacted by Officer O’Brien and arranged to meet him at the parking area at the edge of the woods. Sure enough, he and Officer Harbison (?) showed up with Winston and a dolly, and promptly returned him to his rightful place.

Winston’s return has been celebrated by all the folks who regularly walk in the woods. He is no worse for wear after his six months in (protective) police custody.

We are grateful to the police department for their care of him and the prompt way they brought him home, once they knew where home was.

Conventional wisdom is that someone removed him as a prank, transported him half a mile across town, and dropped him off on Mr. Kammenzind’s porch. That appears to a reasonable explanation and allows the police to close this case. Except, how in the world could anyone pick up that heavy statue and haul it to a car without leaving a trace?

Is it possible that there is something mystical involved here? After all, these woods are well known to be enchanted and to contain any number of phenomena that border on the supernatural, including one that is within a couple of hundred yards from Winston’s stamping ground.

That, of course, is the popular pavilion, or picnic shelter, that the township constructed thirty-five years ago. By the strangest of coincidences, it is oriented such that its main axis and ridgepole line up perfectly with the point where the sun hits the horizon when it sets on the date of the winter solstice.

This is something one would suspect of an ancient Native American structure or even a Druid one. Is it really a coincidence that the township engineer oriented the pavilion in that precise direction? Or is it built on the foundations of some archaic sun-worshiping culture?

And then there is the mystical “brick garden”, which I have described in previous columns. Each Spring a new crop of collectible paving bricks magically surfaces – six or seven “Bessemer Youngstown”, three or four “C. P. Mayer”, and an occasional “Porter National”. The garden is deep in a thicket, high on a hillside, with no apparent access by any road or lane. Again, by coincidence, the closest residence to the garden is the home of the only card-carrying member of the International Brick Collectors Association in Allegheny County.

A few weeks ago we wrote about the mystical re-appearance of the rare trillium recurvatum after an absence of three or four years and wistfully suggested that this coincidence was a hopeful sign from the “Great Spirit” that there are better days ahead for those of us self-isolated and hunkered down because of the Covid 19 pandemic.

The engineer/amateur scientist in me realizes that there is a logical, rational explanation for each and every one of these mystical phenomena. Surely two strong young men picked up Winston and tiptoed to their truck to abduct. Surely it is a coincidence that the pavilion is oriented like an element in Stonehenge. Surely a truck dumped a load of bricks at a site coincidentally near the home of a passionate brick collector. Surely climate change interfered with the life cycle of the trillium recurvatum.

Nonetheless …..

Ian's Commencement Address. June 4, 2020

June 4, 2020

Ian’s Commencement Address

My grandson, Ian Aleistair McCance, is about to graduate from Rocky Mountain High School in Fort Collins, Colorado, in a ceremony severely limited in attendees. His mother has elected to supplement this with a teleconference including all of his extended family. I was asked to provide the Commencement Address for this family celebration. What follows is an approximate version of that address.

Good afternoon, Ian, and to your extended family as well. I am honored to have been asked to give this Commencement Address. This is an appropriate assignment for me, as I am the oldest, and consequently the wisest member of this family.

Wisdom is the synergistic result of experience, analyzed with judgment, and stored in one’s memory. My long lifetime has produced many experiences. The good judgment with which I have been blessed has provided me with a treasure trove of relevant, significant memories. And, so far, my memory has not deserted me.

Wisdom is of no value unless it is passed on to others. Events like Commencement exercises provide an excellent vehicle for such passage. I am pleased to have this opportunity to pass on a few bits of wisdom to you.

Don’t be afraid to enjoy life. Our lives are filled with wonderful experiences. Nature gives us sunsets; and waterfalls; and clear, calm winter mornings when a snowfall has transformed the woods into a miraculous fairyland. The arts provide many more – a trumpet playing “Ain’t Misbehaving” at my retirement banquet, a first opportunity to read “Lord of the Rings”, and Lazar Wolf negotiating with Tevye for the hand of Tzeitel. If only your Grandmother Oyler could have seen Lazar Wolf and Colonel Mustard and gimpy old Sir Francis Chesney!

Which brings us to your family and your friends. Enjoy the time you have with them; work hard to prevent your other responsibilities and obligations from interfering with it. Don’t postpone opportunities to enjoy quality time with them till “Some Other Time”.

Secondly, don’t be afraid to take a chance. Exploit your potential. We are all capable of much greater things than we realize. Frequently we will fail, but that makes our achievements all the more enjoyable. Follow Robert Frost’s example:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --

I took the one less travelled by

And that has made all the difference.

Consider “The Road Less Travelled” when you encounter a fork in this unpredictable road you are travelling.

And, finally, exercise your mind. Some people think it is our most under-utilized organ. In today’s environment our easy access to information often permits us to look up solutions to problems rather than thinking them through ourselves. This may well inhibit creative thinking and ultimately retard progress.

Most of the advances our society has made have been orchestrated by a small number of independent thinkers, open minded individuals eager to explore all alternatives. You have a mind with remarkable potential – nurture it!

Just as I am the eldest member of my generation, you are the eldest of yours. You are the flag bearer, the role model, for Rachael, and Nora, and Claire, and Ciona, and Lai An. Each of them is looking to you for guidance on how they navigate their own personal journeys.

An interesting theory in social science suggests a symbiotic relationship between the successive generations and the evolution of history. It postulates that society evolves through a repetitive cycle of phases -- crisis, rebuilding, questioning, and unraveling -- lasting eighty or ninety years. The experiences of each generation during its formative years molds its character and the character of each generation in its adult years molds the society it dominates.

In my lifetime this theory is exemplified by the crisis of the Great Depression and World War II, the burden of which was carried by the “Greatest Generation”. My generation came next. Known as the “Silent Generation”, we were so grateful for having survived hard times that it was easy for us to focus on rebuilding.

We were followed by the Boomers, a spoiled generation that was so bored with life that they preferred to question our values. Then came Generation X, the disrupters, and tribal conflicts throughout the world.

And now we are starting all over again, in the midst of an international crisis. Your generation will have the challenge of putting Humpty Dumpty back together again, when this crisis ends. You will be the builders, re-connectors, and assemblers who reconstruct the world order in a positive fashion that will produce a new Golden Era. We have confidence in you!

It is always difficult to end a talk properly. To aid me in this challenge I elected to convene an imaginary virtual teleconference of the patriarchs of the eight families from which you descend – your eight great-great-grandfathers. They represent four similar, but independently different ethnicities.

Your Irish blood is represented by the McGoverns and the Cassidys; your Scotch heritage by the McCances. Your English forbears are the Powells and the Spring family. And finally, this intermingling of strains from the British Isles combines with three Pennsylvania Dutch families, the Oylers, the Kleeses, and the Flecks, each transplanted from Germany four generations earlier.

My posing the question of a proper conclusion to your Commencement Address initiated a heated debate, as might be expected from such a collection of diverse backgrounds. Eventually, however, they elected to focus on the fact that you are beginning a long journey through life, and that the traditional Celtic Blessing would be appropriate.

Great-great-Grandpa Cassidy was selected to deliver it:

Sure, and may the road rise up to meet ye,

May the wind be ever at thy back,

May the sun shine brightly on thy forehead,

And the gentle rain refresh thy fields.

Until we meet again, lad,

May the good Lord shelter thee in the palm of His hand.

This was followed by a chorus of Amens, confirming unanimous agreement.

To which I add, “Amen”.

The "Spanish" Flu in Bridgeville May 28, 2020

May 28, 2020

The “Spanish” Flu in Bridgeville

Our current pandemic has frequently been compared and contrasted with the massive flu epidemic in 1918 and 1919. We got to wondering just how serious it was in Bridgeville. The result of our research has been that it was indeed serious.

For perspective we should consider overall statistics. Worldwide the epidemic lasted from Spring 1918 through early summer 1919. In 1919 the population of the whole world was about 1,600,000,000 persons (one-fifth of what it is today!). About five hundred million people were infected; total deaths were estimated at fifty million, might have been twice as high. A fifty million total produces a mortality rate slightly over 3.0 percent.

The population of the United States was one hundred and three million; about three million people were infected. Total fatalities were between five hundred thousand and eight hundred and fifty thousand. The lower total produces a mortality rate of about 0.5%, well below the global value. Incidentally, 1918 is the only year since 1900 that the nation’s population actually decreased.

The population of Pittsburgh was about five hundred and seventy-five thousand. Its first cases of the flu were reported on October 2, 1918 – two army cadets being trained on the University of Pittsburgh campus. The epidemic ran through mid-April; total deaths were about four thousand six hundred. The resulting mortality rate of 0.8% was the highest of any major city in the country.

A rigorous search of contemporary newspapers turned up a few vague references to Bridgeville and one that appeared to be specific. An article in the December 8, 1918, Pittsburgh Daily Post, discussing bans closing schools, churches, theatres, and other public places in the communities of Avalon, Bellevue, Ben Avon, and Emsworth reported they were being renewed and extended until December 18.

Almost as an afterthought, the article also reported “A similar ban has been placed on Bridgeville. At Bridgeville the health officer reports that there were 100 serious cases, that brought the ban on one-half-day’s notice.” This suggests that Bridgeville may well have been one of the major hot spots in Allegheny County, outside of the city.

This suggestion is reinforced by information from the family history of the Fryer family, as reported in “Bridging the Years”, Volume III, the commemorative yearbook published by the Bridgeville Community Association as part of Bridgeville’s Centennial celebration in 2001.

According to this history, the Amos Fryer Funeral Parlor “buried over 121 citizens during the National Tragedy of the Influenza Epidemic from our community.” Ironically this total included the Funeral Director, Samuel Blake Fryer, Sr., buried on October 26,1918, and his infant son, Paul, five days earlier. Mr. Fryer had recently inherited the business from his father, Amos, who died on May 8, 1918. These were certainly difficult times for the Fryer family.

Amos Fryer, born in 1847, was the grandson of Leonard and Eleanor Fryer. They came to western Pennsylvania in the late 1700s, originally settling on Miller’s Run. Their seventh son, Samuel, was Amos’ father. He built a grist mill on McLaughlin Run, close to today’s intersection of McLaughlin Run Road and Baldwin Street. Amos inherited his father’s entrepreneurial bent, establishing Bridgeville’s first lumber yard. In 1875 he sold the lumber yard and opened a furniture store, with undertaking as a sideline. This ultimately led to the success of the Fryer Funeral business.

In 1918 Bridgeville’s population was about 3,000. In 1920, after the epidemic had faded into a memory, the nation suffered 13.0 deaths from all causes, per 1,000 residents. Based on this, we assume there would have normally been about forty deaths in a typical year in Bridgeville.

Any analysis of this type must consider the fact that there were additional funeral parlors in Bridgeville at this time. “Squire” William Russell’s undertaking business was started in 1904 and was near its peak in 1918; there may have been others. Apparently the Russell family, like the Fryers, suffered an ironic death, The “Bridgeville” column in Canonsburg’s December 21, 1918 “Daily Notes” reports “Mrs. Will Russell is among the late flu victims”. She probably was Squire Russell’s wife.

Another relevant factor is the fact that Bridgeville funeral parlors served a wider area than just the Borough itself – Miller’s Run in South Fayette, Thom’s Run in Collier Township, Beadling in Upper St. Clair, etc. If we add another 7,000 persons in these communities, the total deaths in a normal year for “Greater Bridgeville” would have been one hundred and thirty. Assuming the Fryer Funeral Parlor handled half of them, their annual load would be sixty-five, well below the “121 citizens” reported for the seven months the epidemic raged.

It is easy to speculate that the mortality rate passing through this one funeral home during the epidemic was several times the normal rate. This speculation is reinforced by statistics from Pittsburgh at the time, where the rate of documented flu deaths was almost identically equal to the rate of deaths from all other causes. If Bridgeville was indeed a hot spot, its rate would have been higher than the average for Pittsburgh.

The effects on Bridgeville residents of this scourge were not limited to local deaths. The March 10, 1919 “Daily Notes” reports that Bridgeville’s T. A. Warrensford family had been notified of the death of their son Lloyd, of pneumonia, in a hospital in France, on February 17, 1919.

His story is well chronicled in my brother’s book “Almost Forgotten”. He is one of four local men who lost their lives in World War I while serving in the 319^th Infantry. It is well documented that more servicemen in that war died from the flu than were killed in action.

It certainly does appear that the Spanish Flu Epidemic in Bridgeville was a much more significant event than we had realized and that the number of deaths it produced was at least twice as many as those from all other causes in that period.

Teleconferencing. May 21, 2020

May 21, 2020

Teleconferencing

We are now into the ninth week of quarantine and running out of ways to look at it positively. We have sipped our “half-full glass” very slowly and are eagerly looking forward to its being refilled soon. This week’s positive observation is a sincere one – the technology of teleconferencing has worked well.

Our experience with the seven Senior Design final presentations certainly was positive, albeit a poor substitute for our normal in-person colloquium. So far I have successfully hosted two virtual meetings of our elderly gentlemen’s Book Review Club and have another scheduled later this month.

Son John has participated in two large “biotech” panel discussions as well as numerous company meetings via teleconference, all from his home office. Elizabeth successfully finished her semester teaching two courses on-line, all the while lamenting the absence of face-to-face contact with her students.

My grand-daughter Rachael had a very special teleconference experience. The members of the Three Rivers Young People’s Orchestra were treated to a virtual discussion with Itzhak Perlman. What a thrill for an aspiring young violinist! The orchestra has another virtual meeting scheduled, this one with Maestro Manfred Honeck, from his sequestered home in Austria.

Each of these examples is positive, although none of them match the effectiveness of in-person meetings. I have, however, recently encountered several examples where the teleconference is an improvement over its predecessor.

For a number of years, it has been possible to view filmed records of the Bridgeville Borough Council meetings as well as those of the Bridgeville Planning Commission, thanks to “Bridgeville.org”. These were often interesting, although difficult to follow. It was frequently hard to decipher what was being said.

The current situation has forced both of these bodies to meet remotely; the recordings of their meetings are an order of magnitude easier to follow than were the films of previous meetings. In addition, the fact that the participants are in different locations has forced them to be quite explicit, making it much easier for viewers to understand what is happening.

The April Council meeting came first; its recording was a pleasant surprise although most of the business transacted in that meeting tended toward the trivial. One obvious thing missing was the absence of any comment from visitors, although the moderator clearly provided an opportunity for them to be heard.

This absence points out an apparent weakness of this process. Normally these meetings provide an opportunity for private citizens to communicate their grievances and compliments to the Council in person. Unfortunately, the several perennial watch-dogs whom we know are latter day Luddites, unable to participate in these remote sessions.

Actually, Luddite is not the appropriate term for these folks. The original Luddites were a secret organization dedicated to the destruction of “modern” machinery that was perceived as a threat to skilled artisans in the textile industry. The term has evolved into a connotation referring to anyone opposed to technological progress.

Folks who are unable or unwilling to acquire the necessary capability to participate in today’s internet culture are in danger of being disenfranchised. This is indeed unfortunate, as their dissenting opinions need to be heard, to ensure rational decisions are made by these bodies.

This appears to be particularly relevant to the Planning Commission. The recording of their on-line meeting in April was impressive, especially because the format required displaying the documents they were discussing in a fashion that made them readily available to viewers.

The Planning Commission consists of seven well-meaning citizens. It has no authority; its primary responsibility is to make recommendations to Borough Council, based on their perception of what is best for the community.

This particular meeting began with the Chairman reporting their intention to discuss ten basic community issues remaining from a list of nineteen that had been articulated in the 2004 Bridgeville Comprehensive Plan. At this point a decision matrix was presented and each member asked to evaluate “community value” and “cost” on a scale of one to ten for each issue. The results of this evaluation will enable the Commission to prioritize the issues, for the May meeting.

They then proceeded to discuss five specific issues – Traffic Study, Conformance and Code Enforcement, Trail Connectivity, Baldwin Street, and Parking Issues – with a different member of the Commission coordinating the discussion on a particular issue. The discussions were constructive; several of them highlighted the importance of input from the community.

As an outsider, my input is irrelevant. Nonetheless I was surprised at the focus of several of the issues. For years I have heard people complaining about the traffic congestion in Bridgeville, particularly approaching the South End bridge. Based upon what I heard and read on the “Traffic Study” document, it appears the community views speeding, especially on Bank Street, as the critical traffic issue. On reflection, I realized that my contacts were fellow outsiders, complaining about their difficulty getting to and from I-79.

“Baldwin Street”, of course, was of particular interest to me. Several years ago one of our Senior Design teams studied flooding in McLaughlin Run, and we became aware of the proposal that Bower Hill Road and all the properties on the north side of Baldwin Street be abandoned. It will be interesting to follow this discussion; fortunately the Commission now includes a highly competent engineer. I was surprised the abandoned mine pollution in McLaughlin Run is not considered a relevant issue.

The “Trail Connectivity” issue generated a suggestion that Bank Street be extended to Washington Avenue, via a railroad grade crossing, to improve access to the Library. I still prefer the solution our Senior Design students recommended – a pedestrian bridge leading to James Street.

All told, I was well impressed with the meeting and the business-like way the Commission is addressing the future planning process. I do hope they will continue to solicit community input. At least for most folks this format could well be a modern version of the old-fashioned town meetings.

Thursday, May 7, 2020

May Day, 1955. May 14, 2020

May 14, 2020

May Day, 1955

“On the first of May, it is moving day” is the beginning of the verse for Rodgers and Hart’s wonderful standard, “Mountain Greenery”. It typifies our general perception of May Day as a happy time, an opportunity to proceed to positive things. In the song a young couple is leaving the city for the joys of rural life, anticipating Eddie Albert and Eva Gabor in “Green Acres”.

This all changed with the onset of the Cold War with the worldwide Communist expansion following World War II. By 1955 the Iron Curtain had split Europe down the middle, and Communist sympathy was growing in France and Italy. The People’s Republic of China was firmly in control in Beijing and flexing its muscles in French Indo-China and threatening Taiwan. Fidel Castro was in exile in Mexico, anticipating his future takeover of Cuba.

May Day, 1955, found me in the 29^th Engineer Battalion, Base Topographic, in Oji, a neighborhood in northern Tokyo. I had just celebrated the first anniversary of my arrival in Japan; my countdown to freedom, on September 10, was 131 days.

Our battalion was responsible for providing mapping support for all of our military units in the Far East as well as for our allies. A major program supporting the French in their effort to quell the rebellion in French Indo-China had come to an abrupt halt the previous year when it failed.

In addition to this “day” job we also had to spend time on our primary reason for being there, defending democracy against its enemies. This included getting up at 5:30 each morning for roll call, calisthenics, and military drill; spending one weekend a month on maneuvers; and miscellaneous soldierly duties like guard duty.

When I reported for guard duty that particular morning, the fact that it was May Day didn’t register on me at all. Guard duty consisted of two hours on, followed by four off, manning a guard shack at one of the gates. I was assigned “second trick”, beginning at 10:00 am.

This put me on duty during a very slow time, with very few persons passing through the gate. I shared the shack with a Japanese national security guard whose primary function was to communicate to non-English speaking visitors. After my two-hour shift was over, I ate lunch, then stretched out on a bunk in the Guard House. A few minutes before 4:00 I got up and prepared to go on duty.

Changing the guard required the Officer of the Day to march us to our respective gates and pick up the guards going off-duty. When I reached the guard shack I noticed a small group of people milling around outside the gate. When I looked puzzled, my Japanese compatriot suddenly broke into English, “May Day”. Sure enough, some of them were waving red handkerchiefs.

For the next few minutes the mob grew slowly, but not enough to really worry me. At 5:00, when our Japanese workers left to come home, things began to get a little dicey. The crowd began to become much more active, shouting, stamping their feet, and waving their red flags.

I began to worry about the safety of our employees. Eventually I spotted Mr. Kono, whom i later noted we had categorized as “mild-mannered”. I was quite concerned about his ability to navigate his way through the mob.

Mild, courteous Mr. Kono was always immaculately dressed. I was surprised to see him pull off his necktie and jam it into his jacket pocket. By the time he had passed through the gate he had pulled out a red handkerchief and was waving it. His mien had changed from polite obedience to aggressive antagonism. Suddenly he looked exactly like the caricature of the evil enemy we faced in the Pacific ten years earlier.

I watched him merge into the mob and become indistinguishable from the rest of them. At this point I realized that my Japanese security guard had somehow disappeared. I was all alone, defending democracy against the Red Horde. I had my rifle but, like Barney Fife, I had no bullets. I did have a bayonet, but had been brainwashed to do nothing rash without being commanded. If only some sergeant had been there to shout, “Fix Bayonets”.

Panicked, I telephoned the Guard House and notified the Officer of the Day that I needed reinforcement. “Not to worry”, he replied. “I have called out the First Provisional Infantry Platoon”. In addition to being organized by our day job assignments, we also were organized into military fighting units.

Soon I saw the impressive sight of the platoon, led by Second Lieutenant Reynolds and Sergeant McCartney marching toward me. Thank Heavens there were some real soldiers in our battalion! Suddenly the Lieutenant stopped and gave the command, “Deploy as Skirmishers”. Soon there were three eight-man squads spread out across the parade ground. Especially impressive were the three Browning Automatic Rifles with their distinctive inverted-vee supports, aimed right at the mob.

Unimpressive, to me, was the fact that they were deployed about fifty yards behind me. I was, indeed, in “no-man’s-land”, poised to be the first American casualty in World War III. I felt like the hero in a Jerry Lewis movie. What would Jerry do? Probably scream and run for safety. I was too disciplined for that. Eventually things began to die down; nonetheless, I was quite happy to see Darrell Renzelman show up at 6:00 and relieve me.

In retrospect I remember this as a humorous incident; I didn’t think it was funny at the time. Farris Farha thought I should be considered for at least a Bronze Star in recognition of my bravery. I suspect my friends and neighbors back home who were responsible for my being there would have been a little uneasy had they known I was the Dutch Boy with his finger in the dike holding back the spread of international Communism.

The Trillium Recurvatum. May 7, 2020

May 7, 2020

The Trillium Recurvatum

When my children were small we enjoyed participating in the YMCA parent-child programs, Indian Guides and Indian Princesses. I particularly enjoyed “playing Indian” and soon found my niche as story teller. Most of the traditional Indian stories for children were of the “Why the ….” Genre, such as “Why the chipmunk’s back is striped”, etc.

Typically in these stories some animal performs some beneficial action which is rewarded by the Great Spirit by being awarded some admirable feature or characteristic. Once my daughter Elizabeth and I got into the routine of telling such tales, we began to write our own.

The great Spirit rewarded the deer for alerting a peaceful tribe of Indians of the approach of an enemy by being granted a flag (its white tail) that it displays vividly each time it runs away. The redbird (cardinal) was awarded its distinctive crown in recognition of its helping a group of thirsty Indians find a spring of fresh water.

Our pride and joy was the story of the trillium. One spring we found a meadow full of trilliums (or is it trillia, or simply trillium?) while on a short hike at the Y camp at Deer Valley. The trillium is a distinctive spring flower, displaying three leaves, three sepals, and three petals in a very attractive arrangement. The common variety in this area is trillium grandiflorum.

Technically the three leaves aren’t leaves at all; their proper designation is bract. The bract is a leaf-like component which is associated with the reproductive function of the plant, rather than its vegetative function. It still looks like a leaf to me.

The typical common trillium has a sturdy stalk perhaps six inches long on which are symmetrically arranged three large green bracts. From the center of the bracts a stem several inches long then supports three attractive petals (white in this case), with three small leaf-like green sepals, spaced between the petals.

The combination of three bracts, three sepals, and three petals suggested a story that practically composed itself. It seems there were three Indian boys who were best friends. Each boy had a loyal dog, and each dog had a flea. One day the three boys disobeyed their parents and went wandering in the forest, accompanied by the three faithful dogs and their three fleas.

Sure enough a thunderstorm, a lightning strike, and the resulting forest fire trapped the wanderers, leading to their sad demise. When the Great Spirit learned of this tragedy He (She?) created the trillium in their memory. Consequently today whenever we encounter a trillium with its three petals, three sepals, and three bracts, we are reminded of the three Indian boys, their three dogs, and their three fleas.

Being a parent with young children at the time the story was composed, it seemed appropriate for it to be a gentle sermon on children listening to their parents. In retrospect I wonder if it would have been better if the creation of the trillium had been a reward for some positive action instead. Perhaps the three triplets gave their lives to save a larger group of their tribe.

Once we had learned about the trillium it was a real treat to find several colonies of them in the woods in our neighborhood. There is a portion of a south-facing hill, about fifty yards long, in which there are several dozen clumps of trillium that bloom in mid-April every year, an event that we anticipate eage.

About ten years ago, in the midst of one of the clumps we were surprised to see an interloper, potentially an undocumented alien! It was definitely a trillium, but one with significantly different characteristics. Instead of being solid green, the bracts were mottled with two contrasting shades. The petals grew right out of the bracts, without a separate stem. And they were maroon-colored, and curled inward rather than outward.

After considerable research I concluded that we were favored with a rare (for this area) variety, trillium sessile. It turns out that the term sessile refers to the absence of the stem between the bracts and petals. Several years later I learned that were other varieties with this characteristic and ours that probably was a trillium recurvatum, distinctive for the curling-in of its petals.

We followed this straggler for a number of years until a large tree fell right where the recurvatum usually showed up each April. Since then we have been able to find it. This Spring I found a note in my mailbox, informing me that the trillium were blooming but that she could not find “the maroon one”.

Being an octogenarian I am automatically “at risk”, and consequentially have been quarantined to my house and neighborhood, depending upon my daughter to do my grocery shopping for me. On the days she brings my groceries, she and I enjoy walking in our woods.

On such a walk two weeks ago we decided to make one final effort to locate the straggler. Elizabeth very quickly announced that she had found it. Sure enough, hidden behind a branch of a downed tree, is a small colony of our beloved recurvatum. I can’t imagine its having been there in previous years, although that is certainly possible.

I prefer, instead, to believe that the Great Spirit is aware of our current travails and that He/She has led us to this colony and provided us with a sign that better days are ahead. If indeed this undocumented alien has found a way to come back after all this time, surely we can survive today’s problems.

Senior Design Projects April 30, 2020

April 30, 2020

Senior Design Projects

This past week has been particularly busy for me. Despite losing a full week of school and being forced to function remotely, the graduating Seniors in the Civil and Environmental Engineering Department at Pitt were required to complete all their final assignments this week and take their final exams next week.

The most significant of these challenges is the completion of their Senior Design Projects. In their final semester our students are required to participate in a significant “near-real-world” team design project. Before my retirement it was my responsibility to coordinate this program. This term I volunteered to mentor one team; I greatly enjoyed my involvement with them.

Normally the program ends with an impressive, day-long colloquium before a large audience in the O’Hara Student Center Ballroom. It indeed is a “big deal”, the culmination of our students’ academic career. Once it became obvious this could not occur, we decided to have each team make its presentation remotely via teleconference with a handful of interested faculty members as its audience.

Consequently I participated in seven one-hour-long teleconferences last week, plus a handful of preliminary dry-runs. I was not surprised to see this group of students make the transition to remote communication so flawlessly. I was, however,

pleasantly surprised that the quality of their design work was not compromised.

Three of the seven projects this term were based on actual projects in the University’s Master Campus Plan. Part of the Plan for the sports complex on the Upper Campus is the design and construction of a 3,500 seat arena for wrestling, volleyball, and gymnastics, to be located adjacent to the Peterson Event Center.

This location is at the east end of the bowl left when Pitt Stadium was demolished. The team I mentored was given the assignment of performing a preliminary design for such a facility, accompanied by an estimate of its cost and a construction plan to confirm its constructability. This was an ambitious challenge, even for one of the strongest teams in the program.

Before the disruption I was sure the team was capable of meeting this challenge; my confidence was confirmed by their presentation. Even though each student was communicating remotely from a different location, their explanation of the results of their work went seamlessly, just as if they were all together in O’Hara Student Center.

Another Master Plan project is the renovation of Crawford Hall, a five-story building that is the home of the University’s neuroscience department. Filled with laboratories, it is imperative that this work be done in logical stages, without significantly disrupting the department’s operations.

This project was particularly interesting to me, as I had experienced a similar staged renovation in Benedum Hall about ten years ago. The team implementing this Senior Design Project was made up of Construction Management students; the plan they produced was highly professional and completely credible.

Stormwater management and Allegheny County’s combined sewer overflow problems are major infrastructure subjects for Civil and Environmental Engineers. One of our teams, composed of Environmental Engineering students, elected to evaluate stormwater mitigation efforts for two projects in the Master Plan – the Redevelopment of Bouquet Gardens and the conversion of O’Hara Street into a pedestrian-friendly “Complete Street”.

A combination of ‘green roofs” and underground storage was shown to significantly reduce peak stormwater runoff at Bouquet Gardens. A similar effect was found for the addition of infiltration planters between sidewalks and bike lanes on O’Hara Street. Though both are relatively small projects, they clearly quantify the effectiveness of “green solutions” to the combined sewer overflow problem.

In the same vein, another team studied the frequent flash flooding problem in downtown Springdale. Their solution is to capture stormwater before it enters the combined sewer system and store it in large underground containers, to be released after the peak of the storm has passed. In this case, a “grey” solution turned out to be more effective than the alternative “green solution”, an extensive rain garden.

When the new terminal is constructed at the Pittsburgh International Airport, the existing landside terminal is scheduled for demolition. Some folks at the Allegheny County Airport Authority are interested in alternative uses for the facility. One of our teams elected to take on this challenge; they came up with a credible recommendation.

Their plan is to convert the landside terminal into a transportation hub linking busy corridors in all four directions. This they would do by retaining the central core of the existing building while demolishing its wings. Attractive glass curtain walls would be installed at both ends. This is a clever solution, including a pair of environmentally friendly alternatives --rain gardens to handle stormwater runoff, and a geothermal heating system as an energy source.

Another innovative project is the development of an urban agriculture system in an empty industrial building in Sharpsburg. A team composed of Environmental Engineers conceived an impressive facility including fish tanks, hydroponics, and a conventional greenhouse. Collecting rainwater for process water, generating electricity with solar panels, and capturing nutrients from waste in a closed system produce a cost-effective solution while providing the community with fresh food.

The final project is an excellent solution to the problem of providing rapidly deployable multi-family housing units for communities hit by natural disasters. This team designed a three-story modular housing unit that could be constructed in large assemblies in a manufacturing facility environment, transported to the construction site by trucks, and final-assembled in a minimum of time. Their design utilizes engineered forest products – Glulam columns and girders, and cross-laminated timber floors and ceilings.

The combination of the use of sophisticated technology, the social relevance of each of these projects, and the professionalism shown by the presentations is extremely impressive. When you realize that this was achieved despite the biggest disruption any academic program has seen in years, you realize that this group of students is indeed “the cream of the crop”. And kudos to program coordinator John Sebastian!