My Tale of Two Cities

This is my personal tale of two cities and my reaction to the horrible tragedy that has befallen each. The cities, Dayton, Ohio, and El Paso, Texas, both hold an important place in my life and I grieve with them as I write this.

They are very different cities. Dayton is a somewhat typical Midwestern city that was once anchored by an internationally-known company and large auto-related manufacturing plants that have since moved elsewhere. The area still has Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and the historical notoriety of being the birthplace of the Wright Brothers, who invented the first airplane.

Nearly 1,600 miles southwest is El Paso, Texas, at the very western tip of that state and directly across the Rio Grande River from Cuidad Juarez, Mexico. El Paso is also home to a major military base, Ft. Bliss, and is a major commercial and banking hub for western Texas.

The two cities are now linked in history by two acts of violence that occurred only about 13 hours apart. On a sunny, hot Saturday morning, a lone gunman with an AK-47 rifle opened fire in a Walmart parking lot in El Paso and then went into the store to continue his killing spree. He killed 22 people and injured 26 more before he was arrested a short distance from the store.

This shooting took place in a large shopping area that straddles I-10 for several miles and includes the Vista Cielo Mall to the east of downtown El Paso. The suspect, 21-year-old Patrick Crusius, allegedly drove 600 miles from suburban Dallas before his bloody attack. Federal government authorities will charge him with domestic terrorism and hate crimes because of a manifesto he published on a white supremacy web site saying he wanted to kill Mexican immigrants to prevent them from taking over the country.

Just 13 hours later, a lone gunman, 24-year-old Connor Betts, from nearby Bellbrook, Ohio, began a shooting rampage in the Oregon district, a popular nightlife district with bars and restaurants east of downtown Dayton. This attack lasted about a minute before several Dayton Police Department officers, who were routinely patrolling the area, shot and killed the shooter before he could enter a crowded night club.

In this attack, nine were killed and 20 more were wounded. As I write this, police still don’t have a precise motive for this attack, but one of the fatalities was the 22-year-old sister of the shooter.

So, two cities that are so different are now connected forever because of these atrocities. I am writing about each of them because I have a personal connection to both.

When I was 14, my family moved from Columbus, Ohio, to the Dayton area because my dad accepted a new job. I lived in the suburbs and attended Archbishop Alter High School in nearby Kettering. Because this was more than 50 years ago, I’m don’t know what the Oregon district was like back then. When I turned 18 and was legally permitted to drink 3.2 percent beer, my friends and I tended to visit bars along Brown Street close to the University of Dayton. While I was in college at Miami University in nearby Oxford, Ohio, I still returned to the Dayton area during holiday breaks and worked there during the summer months. Since my 50-year class reunion in 2016, I have kept in touch with several high school classmates who live in the Dayton area via Facebook.

While I don’t have a direct connection to the victims of the Dayton shooting, I still feel emotional about the tragic deaths of a group of people enjoying a warm summer night in the city that was an important part of my growing up.

My connection with El Paso is much more recent. To get away from the cold Ohio winter, I decided to rent an AirBnb property from mid-January to the end of March this year in the Mission Hills section of El Paso. Why El Paso? When doing my research about where to spend the winter, I was intrigued by that city’s proximity to Mexico, both in location and culture and the dry desert climate.

I was not disappointed with my choice. This city of 680,000 is vibrant and interesting with a mix of both American and Mexican cultures. About the half of the population of El Paso has a direct family link to nearby Mexico. I rented a casita or small house while there and I could see Juarez in the Mexican state of Chihuahua from the street in front of my house,

I took some non-credit classes at the University of Texas-El Paso (UTEP) and learned about the history and culture of the area that locals call the Borderland. I met some interesting people there and was intrigued how the two cultures exist side-by-side in this city. At the local supermarket, restaurants, coffee shops and on campus, hearing people speak both English and Spanish was an everyday occurrence.

I went to El Paso to get relief from my chronic asthma and allergies, but the elevation of the city of about 3,800 feet, proved to be a problem for my breathing. If not for that, I would gladly go back next winter. I really liked the city and the Borderland area.

Because the shootings in El Paso were apparently racially motivated, my heart goes out to the people of a community where Americans and Latinos live and work side-by-side in relative harmony. El Paso’s crime rate has historically been much lower than the national average for a city its size.

So, I was deeply affected by the events of in both Dayton and El Paso. I have a great deal of love for both communities and they are both an important part of my life, although separated by about 50 years.

One final note. Ironically, both Dayton and El Paso are linked by one thing I love: college basketball. The University of Dayton Flyers have been a nationally-ranked mid-major power for years and I still root for them most of the time, even though I am not an alumnus. They are a prominent part of the community that was an important to me when I was growing up.

UTEP was formally called Texas Western University and, in 1966, the Miners won the NCAA national basket ball championship over Kentucky. I attended a couple of games while I was in El Paso and joined fans in applauding a couple of players and the coach’s wife when they were honored, even though they beat my graduate school’s alma mater. The movie “Glory Road” celebrates this incredible story.

So, I am very sad about the fate these two cities shared. I’m not going to comment about our country’s gun laws or immigration policy here. These are two cities that did not deserve what happened this weekend, but they will be forever linked by tragic events. And, they will both have a place in my heart for as long as I live.

The Songs of Summer

As the middle of summer approaches, with the temperature near 90 and coupled with Ohio’s summer humidity, I decided to see which popular summer songs I remembered that were popular when they were released.

A quick Google search revealed a webpage article titled “Top 30 Summer Songs” published by Billboard Magazine—one of pop music’s most highly regarded sources. I won’t comment on all of the songs, but here are some of my favorites from the list.

The number one song on the list is the “Surfin’ Safari” by the Beach Boys. This 1962 hit introduced the California surf culture to the rest of the country. The opening verse says it all:

“Early in the morning well be startin' out
Some honeys will be coming along
Were loading up our Woody
With our boards inside
And headin' out singing our song”

This is one of five Beach Boys singles the made the Billboard list, more than any other artist or group. Other Beach Boys songs on the list include: “Surfin’ USA”, “Wipeout” (made in 1987 with the Fat Boys), Surfer Girl and “California Girls.” I still remember their 1979 concert at Blossom Music Center in Ohio opening with the beautiful guitar riff of “California Girls” while a there was a raging thunderstorm going on outside the pavilion. It’s one of my favorite concerts of all time.

The number 2 song on the Billboard list is a jazzy, highly instrumented version of the song “Summertime” sung by Billy Stewart in 1966.  This song is probably the best known song of the musical “Porgy and Bess” written by the Gershwin brothers. It has been recorded by numerous artists and I think many of those versions are much better at representing the song’s purpose in the show to portray the steamy ambience of summer in the South.

In 1983, the girl group Bananarama had a huge hit with the song “Cruel Summer” about a love that’s left. I really like this song’s instrumentation and the last chorus displays both angst and a threat.

“It's a cruel (Cruel), cruel summer
(Leaving me) Leaving me here on my own
It's a cruel (It's a cruel), cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one”

Number 5 on the list is the rock classic “Summertime Blues” sung by Eddie Cochran in 1958. The song expresses the emerging rebelliousness of the 50s teens against their “Greatest Generation” parents. “There ain’t no cure for the summertime blues…” expresses the frustrations teens of that era felt.

In 1972, Seals and Croft released “Summer Breeze” and the song became a huge hit. It featured the duo’s rich harmony and the use of a mandolin with very sensory lyrics to describe the pleasure of a welcome breeze on a summer day.

“Summer breeze makes me feel fine
Blowin' through the jasmine in my mind”

Another personal favorite of mine is number 17 on the list, “Under the Boardwalk” performed by the Drifters in 1964. The song features interesting key changes and the use of a violin that was unique for that time.

At number 20 is “Boys of Summer” by Don Henley. The Eagles mainstay went solo when the band took as Glenn Frey said, “…a 14-year vacation.” This was one Henley’s several major hits in the 80s and the lyrics refer to his memories of a summer fling and the realization that summer and his crush are both gone.

Number 22 on this list is the huge hit by the group Sly and the Family Stone called “Hot Fun in the Summertime.” This song was released in the summer of 1969 and appeared in the Billboard Top 100 at the same time as the group was performing at Woodstock. The song salutes the easy and free spirit most of us felt during the summer months of 1969.

“Hot town, summer in the city, back of my neck getting’ dirty gritty” was the chorus for the 1966 hit “Summer in the City” by the Lovin’ Spoonful. This piece featured driving instrumental interludes and percussion that seem to increase the heat, even if you listened to it during cooler times.

Summer also is the time for a number of novelty songs, pieces of music that weren’t much for substance, but seemed to catch on. In 1960, Bryan Hyland recorded “Itsy-Bitsy-Teenie-Weenie Yellow Polkadot Bikini” and the song shot up the charts that summer. The song is about a girl who buys a skimpy bikini but was afraid to wear it once she got to the beach.

“It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini
That she wore for the first time today.
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini
So in the locker she wanted to stay.
Two, three, four, stick around we'll tell you more!”

I know that summer music seems to be especially memorable for me and I hope some of these songs bring back good summer memories for you. There are 30 songs on this list and, if I didn’t mention your favorite, check out the list yourself and enjoy your summer:

https://www.billboard.com/articles/list/513566/top-30-summer-songs

Good to be Home

It’s hard to believe the midpoint of 2019 is just a couple of weeks away. I’ve read that time seems to move more rapidly as we age and it seems like this year is just flying by. Pam and I have taken two major trips this spring since early May and that doesn’t include my nearly three- month sojourn in Texas and arthroscopic knee surgery for her.

Being home is about familiarity and comfort in surroundings one knows. the comfort of your own bed, knowing where things are in the kitchen and the channels available on the satellite. It’s about relaxing on the deck behind our house when the rain stops and sitting on the front porch watching the world go on our street when rain is falling.

I arrived home from El Paso on April 5, and needed a week or so to rest and recover from the nearly 2,000-mile trip. Another major trip loomed on the horizon in mid-May. My nephew Daniel, my younger brother Tim’s son, was graduating from Boston University in mid-May. Pam, Brian and I planned to drive the 500 miles to Boston on Thursday, May, 16, but Pam’s doctor wanted to do a pre-operation checkup and the only available appointment was that day.

So, we packed up the Honda CRV and left on Friday morning. We would be taking the New York Thruway and the Massachusetts Turnpike to Boston, so I signed up for an E-Z Pass transponder and stuck it on my windshield behind the rearview mirror. That proved to be a wise decision, because I think we saved probably 15-20 minutes in each direction by not having to wait in line in addition to the discount on the tolls.

We arrived in Boston about 12 hours later and found our AirBnb in the suburb of Framingham. It was a decent-sized apartment above a garage and the nightly rate was about half what the hotels and motels in the Boston area were charging.

Saturday morning, we drove 25 minutes to Brookline where Daniel had an apartment. Parking is extremely tight throughout the campus area, but his apartment had several visitor spaces behind the building. We had lunch with Daniel, his parents, his girlfriend Nichol and three of her relatives at a nice neighborhood restaurant about a 10-minute walk from his apartment.

After lunch, we walked to the boyhood home of President John F. Kennedy nearby on a tree-lined street. Some of us went on the tour after watching a short video about JFK’s life. He lived there for the first ten years of his life, before his family moved to a larger house a few blocks away.

After the tour, we went back to Daniel’s place to hang out for a while. He had left to go on campus for his commencement ceremonies. Daniel is extremely bright and decided to pursue a double major in both music composition and physics, and he finished both degrees in four years—very impressive.

The two ceremonies were only an hour-and-a-half apart and on opposite sides of campus. So, we watched him receive his music composition degree at the BU Tennis Center and he literally sprinted off the stage and out the door with the rest of us in tow.

He and his mom decided to try to walk to the other ceremony while the rest of us waited for the campus shuttle bus. Fortunately, the bus appeared quickly and all of us made it to his second ceremony in the science center just as it was beginning.

After that ceremony and a reception, we had 45 minutes to get to Symphony Hall in Boston to hear the Boston Pops play a program saluting the year 1969. Daniel bought the tickets to thank us for coming and the concert was a delight. Because the Red Sox had a home game at nearby Fenway Park, the traffic was atrocious, but we made the concert with time to spare.

After the concert, we took an Uber back to Daniel’s apartment. When the Uber driver picked us up he asked, “Where to?” My reply was: “About 500 miles west.” I had had enough of the traffic and congestion of Boston.

It was after 11pm and we hadn’t eaten anything since lunch except for the finger food available at a reception after Daniel’s physics degree ceremony. We headed back to the apartment in Framingham and, thank goodness for Google Maps, we found an open Wendy’s drive through and took the food back to our apartment.

Sunday, was about as hectic. We planned to attend the general university commencement at the BU soccer stadium. Boston University doesn’t have a football team, but the stadium was big enough to accommodate probably 15,000 people who filled the stands along with several thousand more seated on folding chairs on the artificial turf field.

When we awoke Sunday morning, it was raining and we found a Panera for lunch before heading back into Boston. We left the restaurant about an hour before the ceremony for the 25-minute drive. However, the rain slowed the traffic on the expressway, and it was a struggle to find parking anywhere near the stadium, so we arrived about 45 minutes after the beginning of the ceremony.

Fortunately, the rain stopped by then and we did get to hear the featured speaker and see the students throw their caps in the air after the degrees were conferred. By the end of the program, the rain was gone and the sun came out. We walked back to Daniel’s apartment and eventually went to dinner in nearby Brookline.

We had planned to spend Monday sightseeing in Boston, but more rain was forecast and the three of us decided to head back home. After two days chasing Daniel around campus and the hectic schedule, we were pretty tired. The parking problems and Boston traffic made me more than ready to get back to Ohio.

About a week after we got home, Pam had arthroscopic surgery on her left knee. It had been bothering her since last fall and, after a couple of rounds of physical therapy, she went to a sports medicine physician. He found a tear in her meniscus and repaired it. We were only at the surgery center for about three hours before I took her home. She went though the recovery process fairly well and was up and walking without crutches the third day after the surgery.

Our next trip was about three weeks after the Boston journey. Pam’s first cousin once removed Henry (the son of her cousin) was to be married in Nashville on June 8^th. Originally, Pam, her brother and her niece planned to leave the Monday before the wedding to explore old historic houses in Kentucky. I planed to drive separately to meet them in Nashville on Thursday night.

However, because of Pam’s surgery we decided she needed an extra day of rest, so we left on Tuesday and met her brother in Lexington, KY, that night. While they explored a couple of houses on Wednesday, I drove down to Richmond, KY to have lunch with my first boss after college.

Way back in 1970, Fred Kolloff hired me to be on the staff of the Division of TV and Radio at Eastern Kentucky University. We have kept in touch over the years and had a delightful time reminiscing and discussing the current state of television. Fred is a TV history junkie who has travelled to Hollywood a few times to witness production of numerous TV shows. He told me he and his wife also have been on ocean cruises sponsored by the Turner Classic Movies network.

After lunch, I drove around the EKU campus and out to the first apartment Pam and I had a couple of miles outside Richmond. The drive triggered a lot of memories and our four years in Kentucky were a good start for my career and our marriage.

Thursday, Pam and I went to Nashville and on Friday, we met another of Pam’s cousins and toured the Belmont Mansion at Belmont University and had lunch at the Magic Mushroom, a pub in downtown Franklin, TN.

That weekend we stayed at the Drury Inn in Franklin, an impressive 12-story hotel right off I-65 about 15 miles south of Nashville. Each Drury hotel has a happy hour from 5:30 to 7 pm each evening where guests can partake of an extensive complimentary selection of appetizers and get two free drinks. Both nights, I had a couple of Jack Daniels whiskeys on the rocks, so it was a good way to end a day of sightseeing.

While Pam and I were on this journey, Brian was in Cannes, France, attending the annual Midem Conference, an international meeting of music producers. He was in France for about a week and flew back to the U.S. on Friday. He then flew from New York City to Nashville on Saturday morning. I picked him up at the Nashville airport and we arrived back at the hotel in time to have the breakfast buffet with Pam.

After we ate, Brian went to the room for a couple of hours sleep while Pam and I hung out reading in the lobby. Later that afternoon we headed to the church for the wedding of “Team Jenry” the name Henry and his spouse Jennifer have given themselves.

As with our visit to Boston, rain was an important factor. Immediately after the ceremony, as folks lined up for photos with the wedding party outside the church, it started to pour. Everyone hustled back into the church to take the photos inside.

The rain continued as we arrived at the reception site, a historic house and park in nearby Brentwood. There was a large tent erected near the house with food serving lines at the edges of the tent. Unfortunately, the bar area was on the other side of the house, so you had to go out in the rain to go through the house to get to get a beverage.

Because no one wanted to go outside the tent into the rain, it was very crowded and noisy inside. Also, the lack of any wind made the humidity even worse. I had to walk a couple of hundred yards in a pouring rain after parking the car to get to the tent. I never really got dry the whole evening.

The next morning, we went to the house of the Henry’s father for a casual brunch before we headed back to Ohio. I had some good conversations with Pam’s cousins and friends of the bride and groom because the setting was more relaxed.

The drive home was uneventful except for a heavy downpour as we rode through Louisville. Because of Pam’s knee, she rode in the front seat the whole time. When Brian was driving, I rode in cramped quarters in the back seat. I also had indigestion from the weekend, so I was even more uncomfortable. What a relief it was to arrive home at 11:30 on Sunday night.

Our weather here still continues to be iffy with the pattern of a good day usually followed by a couple of rainy ones. Yesterday, the temperature was close to 80 and I sat on the deck relaxing as a couple of deer and then a baby groundhog grazed in our back yard.

They were enjoying themselves and so was I. It felt great to be home and I don’t want to leave anytime soon.