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The Sentinel JUNIATA VALLEY MAGAZINE

Snapshots Laura Tate

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The Sentinel JUNIATA VALLEY MAGAZINE

Memories of Mifflin County

Greg Williams was a member of The Sentinel‘s sports staff and continues to write as a correspondent.

Grandparents are some of the most important people in our lives. They are loving and wise, often viewed as superheroes in the eyes of young grandchildren.

I remember spending my summers as a kid with my grandparents, the late Raymond and Florence Farran of Burnham.

Pap, as I called him, took me into the old Chief Logan High School, where my Gram worked as a secretary in the office. I helped her with collating and filing. One of my favorite activities was typing on her electric typewriter, writing short stories.

I also asked if I could wander about, exploring the hallowed halls to see what mysteries I could find. When her school day was over, we drove home, and she cooked an amazing dinner.

There were other summer highlights as she arranged clarinet lessons for me when I got into grade and high school; Pap used to take me to Arthur Treacher’s and Long John Silver’s for battered hot dogs on a stick (Krunch Pups); and there were plenty of other fun times spent at the Seven Mountains Scout Camp and swimming with other family members and close friends.

When my vacation hit the dog days of summer, we packed up the car so my grandparents could take me home to Maine. Usually, it was late July or early August because we — parents, grandparents and cousins) spent the last few weeks at Sebago Lake in southern Maine. We rented cabins on the shores and my entire family spent a few weeks there vacationing.

I always felt special because I was there twice as much time there as everyone else — one week with my grandparents and one with my parents.

There was swimming and playing on the beach, heading into Portland for hoagies (“Italians” as we called them) or fried clams or clam cakes at one of the seasonal restaurants.

There weren’t any phones or television sets, so it was truly quality family time. During rainy weather, we played board games or put puzzles together.

We took nature hikes or walked to a nearby quarry to look for recyclable cans. We’d cash them in (five cents a can) and bought treats at the nearby general store. I usually had just enough to buy a comic book, which sold for 25 cents in those days.

One year, we even arranged a reunion where more than 80 family members converged on Sebago. I was awfully shy in those days, and I don’t think I left the cabin much for all the hoopla. I know I was the only one not pictured in the reunion photo. I miss those days.

If there was one thing that Gram loved as much as her grandchildren, it was Penn State football.

She was fixated on the game from the opening kickoff to the final horn whether her beloved Nittany Lions were winning or losing.

Every Saturday in the fall, nothing could interfere with her watching or listening to the game. Sometimes we could even hear the radio broadcasts before we walked through her front door.

Just after Penn State won the national championship against Georgia in 1982, she was hospitalized. Gram was so excited to learn her roommate was none other than legendary Penn State football coach Joe Paterno’s mother. I remember she got JoePa to sign our Sugar Bowl souvenir caps.

That proved to be the best medicine for her.

She always dreamed of going to a game in person. I asked her if she wanted to go if I could arrange it. I got tickets for the Michigan State game at Beaver Stadium in the early 2000s.

It was so cold that day, but we bundled up at made it through three quarters. She was in heaven.

Penn State raced to a big lead and won easily. I don’t remember much about the game, more so how excited she was to be there. It will always be one of my most treasured memories.

After graduating from the University of Maine in the spring of 1991, my plan was to attend grad school at Penn State. Those plans got derailed because Penn State reorganized its sports management program, and I couldn’t enroll right away.

Thankfully — since I was an unemployed college kid — I had planned to live with my grandparents and commute to Penn State. I took one class, but it was an ill-chosen elective class in politics, and I lost interest quickly. I got a part-time job at Jamesway and eventually started working for The Sentinel.

Gram and Pap were so proud when they saw my byline. They always made certain they saved copies of the papers. Gram wanted to put together a scrapbook for me, but I said I’d do it (of course, I never did).

I stayed in Mifflin County for nine years before leaving for good in 1999 for a job in Pottstown. I was so excited, and I thought the grass was greener in a bigger city. I learned that wasn’t always been the case.

Fortunately, when I experienced those tough life lessons, Gram and Pap helped me pick up the pieces. I often wondered what life would have been like if I had stayed in Mifflin County, especially after Pap died in 1995.

I tried to go back to visit as much as I could, but it was never the same.

Shortly after going fulltime at The Sentinel, I decided to get my own apartment in the West End of Lewistown. One day, I remember sitting in my recliner and seeing something scamper behind my couch.

Of course, I called Pap, who came up with a mouse trap and set it behind the couch. That tiny little creature had the appearance of Godzilla in my mind.

Pap set the trap, visited

Greg Williams

Former Sentinel staff member Greg Williams, right, and his grandmother. Williams continues to write for the paper, including several stories in this edition.