Clark's Spot

I just returned from a week-long trip to Ohio where I got to see friends and family, visit Cedar Point, attend a friend’s wedding, and spend part of two days enjoying my genealogical hobby. (Picture shows me recording the location of my fourth-great grandfather’s grave. The ancestor, Zebulon Whipple, served in a Connecticut militia during the Revolutionary War.)

It’s always nice to get a few days at home to relax. This time was an experience. It had been years since I had been home for a birthday or visited the town’s summer carnival. We visited the Columbus Zoo for the birthday. The festival was packed with people, but I hadn’t realized it was so – compact. As a kid, it seemed a lot bigger than two blocks.

Work begins again tomorrow (Tuesday). Freshman begin move-in on Thursday. Classes start next week. I can’t believe summer’s coming to a close.

At least I got one good trip out of it.

View map of baseball stadiums visited.

Roger and I visited New York City yesterday to see the Yankees host the Red Sox in Yankees Stadium. It was the 14th Major League Baseball stadium I’ve visited. I’ll add some pictures shortly.

New York was fun. We ate at Druid’s at 50th and 10th. Neat pub. Very Irish – err Celtic. Enjoy the Irish Soda Bread. Roger recommends the curry. I’m still getting used to smoked salmon. Then we ventured to East 42nd. We saw the United Nations building just as it closed for the day. (The flags were all down already – no good picture.) Afterward, we walked up and down the side streets trying to recognize the flags that flew in front of consulates and permanent missions. (We did OK. Social Studies teachers taught us well.) Finally took the train up to Yankees Stadium walked around a bit and ventured inside.

There was a heckuva wait after the game. It took an hour or two for most of the 55,000-plus fans to clear the area, and we were happy to wait and avoid the crush on a muggy night. But by the time we got back to the parking garage in Hells Kitchen, the 24-hour parking garage had closed for the night. Attendant woke up, gave us the car, and we were on our way back to Scranton – arriving at 5:15 a.m. Work, and the morning alarm, came early this morning.

Oh, the game. Yankees-Red Sox was impressive. It’s not quite Ohio State-Michigan. The fans were happy to sit down most of the time. Friends who backed the rivals teased each other, but there wasn’t the vulgar hostility until late in the game when a couple Sox fans decided they had received their money’s worth and could afford to be thrown out. But the fans were loud and passionate – and it was odd to see a standing crowd cheering for a big pitch in the second inning. Alex Rodriguez hit his 536th home run – tying Mickey Mantle for 13th on the all-time list. Red Sox had the lead late before the Yankees rallied to force extra innings. Brett Gardner, who was called up from AAA Scranton/Wilkes-Barre about a week before, had the game-winning two-out up-the-middle single in the bottom of the 10th. Home team wins 5-4.

I turned on The Weather Channel shortly after I woke up this morning. It’s not an everyday routine; I was merely checking to see how many more days of October we would have in August.

The channel almost immediately went live to its reporter covering Hurricane Dean hitting Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula. Jim Cantore, the meteorologist whose appearance signals a hurricane as surely as 20-foot waves and 150-mile-per-hour winds, was broadcasting from Puerto Aventura. Interesting, I thought, that’s where I was one month ago today.

I told my wife to turn on her television. The more we watched, the more it looked as though The Weather Channel was broadcasting from the exact resort we stayed at during our honeymoon. The cameraman eventually pulled back and began to pan over the resort. We recognized it immediately. The Aventura Spa Palace was getting hammered by Hurricane Dean.

One month ago was the day we returned from our honeymoon. On the way to the airport, I asked our driver what happens when a storm hits the tourism-driven Riviera Maya. “If you have a cement house, you stay in your house,” he said. “If you do not have a cement house, you leave your home and look for a friend with a cement house.” People head inland, our driver said. The area averages a hurricane about every 5 years. The last time they were hit badly, he said, was four years ago. “The economy was very bad for six months then,” the driver said. “Nobody had jobs because nobody visited.”

I hope they finish the repairs quickly.

I just returned from a visit to Palmerton, Pennsylvania, a town of just more than 5,000 people in Carbon County. I drove to Palmerton today to attend a grave marking ceremony for the Sons of the American Revolution. Descendants of Conrad Solt – two separate branches – discovered each other while researching his grave. Today, the two families (I’m not related) met for the first time and placed a small marker to honor their ancestor and to preserve his record of service in the American Revolution.

As we stood in the churchyard cemetery, we talked about the history of the area. During the Revolutionary War era, residents used the Blue Mountains as a barrier to escape attacks from hostile Native Americans. Tracking families through the years means searching in communities on both sides of the mountain.

I looked up at the mountain towering above us. Farms dotted the sides of the surrounding hillsides, and trees and fields covered most of the scenery. The church was at the end of the road leading out of town. I realized this was similar to the way the area appeared 220 years ago, as Conrad Solt began his life after the Revolution. In fact, this resembled most towns in the early United States.

I sometimes bemoan the fact that I’m not in a large metropolitan city. I see it as encouraging, and inhibiting, my travel. My trip today was a reminder that most of America both now, and throughout its history, is small towns. Many of us, and our families, end up in tiny churchyards. The vibrant cities, while exciting, aren’t solely America.