'42 flood

This is clothing from I. B. Bernstein's being dried on the town square after the flood.

The bridge that was built after the '42 flood is in the process of being replaced right now. It is causing yers truly to drive extra miles in order to head over the hill to Smethport, but I know it has been 66 years so it is time.

Weather conditions for the past several weeks have reminded this writer very forcefully of a similar period during the calendar year 1942 when much more often than not thunderstorms of a drenching nature were prevalent throughout the north central Pennsylvania area which we have called "home" for more than eight decades at this writing. In fact, there had been such frequent powerful storms that the soil in the vicinity was thoroughly soaked, and incapable of absorbing any more precipitation.

It was under such conditions that cloudburst-type storms hit the Allegheny River valley, as well as its tributary streams in this vicinity -- Fishing Creek, Sartwell Creek, Lillibridge Creek, Two Mile Creek and Annin Creek, to list just the nearest-by. Since the completely saturated hillsides adjoining these waterways could not absorb much, if any, of the drenching downpour, the waters were diverted to each of the streams in overpowering surges, turning each into a raging torrent. The effect of all this on Lillibridge Creek had the greatest effect on residential areas of Port Allegany, as well as roaring down Mill Street, Arnold Avenue, Maple Street, Arnold Avenue, Broad and Chestnut streets to Church, Main, Pearl streets, and Railroad Avenue.

While all these areas were being affected, yours truly, with Mother and sister, Mary, were all sitting anxiously in the living room of the family homestead at 300 Chestnut. All of us were deeply concerned at the sight of smoke rising in the western sky, but unable to learn the source of such with communications not operating, and could only speculate that whatever was burning must surely be in the downtown business area, where the family-owned business was located.

Finally, about 11 a.m., unable to stand the uncertainty any longer, yers truly decided to try to reach the downtown area by the favored transportation for a 15-year-old PAHS junior, the aluminum-framed bicycle. Should have known better, but the flood-expanded Lillibridge Creek took control of our effort in the middle of Broad street, washing the bike from under us. Luckily the writer was able to avoid being carried downstream (or should it be "downstreet"?] by the raging torrent, retrieved the bike and returned to our home to await a later try, about 1 p.m. Succeeded in following Ann street down to Maple, and thence down to the R-A building, which thankfully still existed, contrary to our earlier premonitions. Some four feet, more or less, had invaded the building, carrying with it large accumulations of "flood mud" which filled the tiny sections of the foundry type cases and brought on a flushing-out process which continued for months, and in some cases for years, after the momentous July 18th catastrophe. Most of the machinery involved in producing your hometown newspaper was at least temporarily inactivated, and for a couple issues after the flood, the newspaper appeared with extensive cooperation from other publications in Smethport, Eldred, Coudersport and Wellsboro. Also greatly-affected were every downtown retail outlet. One of our strongest memories is of clotheslines strung across the public square with clothing items from I.B.Bernstein's men's store "hung out to dry". Other retail owners had become janitors of sorts, involved in scooping flood mud off the floors of their respective places of business and sorting merchandise to determine future salability, if any such existed.

Before signing off these reflections, we should report the source of the thick, black smoke noticed by Mom, sis Mary and myself as we sat together in the homestead living room early in the day. Seems that the furnace in the Free Methodist parsonage formerly located on West Mill Street malfunctioned in some way due to the flooded basement, setting the structure ablaze. The building then floated off its foundation and smashed into the Kanter Silk Mill across the street, setting it ablaze and it was ultimately destroyed by the ensuing flames. Fire prevention steps were virtually impossible due to the deep waters from the Allegheny. Not the reason we had feared, but still a considerable loss to the town's industrial scene. These are the highlights of what the writer can remember at the moment. Maybe more at a future writing!!!

Working Out At the Fitness Center

For the past several years, yers truly has more or less enjoyed an activity we resisted for all our days prior to October 0f 2002 -- physical exercising at the Charles Cole Hospital's Wellness Center located in the former Community Hospital building at Pine and Broad streets in our hometown. Don't recall exactly how many times we argued against signing up for such an activity, using the contention that it just doesn't make sense to pay for physical exercise when our home is located on a hillside immediately adjacent to heavily-wooded countryside. Why don't we just hike up and down the road leading to and from the homestead? Easier said than done, as the old saying puts it! Anyway, to make a long story shorter we just don't cotton to the idea of walking up and down several blocks of Katherine St. Ext. Some months during 2001 and 2002 the missus and this scribe used the high school corridors for our strolling site -- don't remember just why that activity got suspended. At any rate, for almost a half-dozen years now, this writer and other half have been paid patrons of the Wellness and Fitness Center. Got started on this procedure in the late weeks of 2002, when Mrs. Rambler was having PT there after the first of two knee replacements. Noting how effective the various types of exercise were in encouraging her recovery, yers truly decided it might make sense to sign up himself. As of today we report three times a week for an hour or more at the Center, and feel that it has been very beneficial. Additionally, the writer is gratified that the former Community Hospital building continues to provide health-related services to the hometown, especially in view of the concerted townwide campaign which brought the modernized facility into existence to replace the West Mill St. structure where this writer entered the world. All for this visit, as this scribe continues to struggle with this electronic keyboard after decades with that 1952 Royal portable!

Another Try at "Ramblin's"

A daunting task on this 25th day of June 2008, my first time trying to use a laptop computer, and at the same time attempting to “bat out” a colyum more or less resembling my almost-weekly effort during 30-some years of operating your hometown newspaper. The keyboard facing yers truly scarcely resembles that of the 1952 Royal portable on which ye Rambler produced those earlier efforts. Yet, somehow or other, the whole process seemed much less complex on that hand-punched mechanism.

As I sit here on the living room couch facing the back deck on our house, there are three local folks who operate a painting business scraping loose paint off the floorboards. Looking out at that area brings back memories of many, many weekend afternoons when ye Rambler would sit in front of a card table on a folding chair and tap out the week’s stuff (sort of blog-like). Furthermore, another big difference in the atmosphere is the absence of one or more of the five young folks, ranging from five years old to 19. Their presence in our home provided much of the material for each colyum, and their absence since all have “flown the coop” leaves the writer with more limited subject matter, to say the least.

Be that as it may be, we hope to continue this 21st century blog process as time goes by, and we become more used to computer-driven typing. For now, yers truly will put a “30” on today’s effort — that means “The End” in journalistic slang!