Categories
Spring Grove

Avoiding home trauma

Spring Grove, PA
The apartment complex is just on the right.
Spring Grove, PA
One block down from the railroad tracks is my confirmation Church and the Paper Mill HQ.
Spring Grove, PA
If the shoe fits…The Paper Town Inn.
Spring Grove, PA
Next to the Paper Mill is where my Family is buried.
Spring Grove, PA
The Spring Grove Cemetary.
Spring Grove, PA Cemetary
My Dad’s (and stepmom’s) headstone.
Spring Grove, PA Cemetary
My Aunt’s headstone. Jennifer never married.
Spring Grove, PA Cemetary
My Grandparent’s headstone.
Spring Grove, PA Cemetary
More family…people i know nothing of.
Spring Grove, PA
Grew up here, age 5 – 23. My Mom still lives here.

The most organized people are the ones who are irrationally passionate about being organized.

Disorganized people (i was one) claim being organized is too difficult. Having been disorganized and organized, i have found that the effort is similar but the hope and freedom are polar opposites.

To be disorganized, for them, would be trauma to their home.

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Categories
I Am

I Am Jack’s Boy

Dad, On Drums, In Japan
Dad, On Drums, In Japan

We are all we think we are.  And we are none of it.

Shortly after my Dad’s passing ten years ago, I had many thoughts about life. Typical thoughts, I guess. The ones we all have.

Whenever I return home to Spring Grove, Pennsylvania, and people in their late 60’s and early 70’s especially, remember my Dad, I smile.

He was a drummer.  A really good one.  He played at their weddings, dances and other social functions. He taught some of their kids drum lessons. He worked beside many of them at “The Mill”, for 38 years, until early on-set, rapid progression Alzheimer’s disease forced early retirement.

Those small town folk remember my Dad, but they don’t know my name.

They just refer to me as, Jack’s boy.

When you go home, who are you?