Mountain Home, December 2023

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Pennsylvania & the New York Finger Lakes

It’s a Wonderful Story

How a Wyalusing Man Wrote “The Greatest Gift” that Became It’s a Wonderful Life By Maggie Barnes

Ithacans Return to Their Rutes Use Your Noodle in Athens Sparks Fly in Elkland

Eind E Rw

Fas the

DECEMBER 2023


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Volume 18 Issue 12

16 Scratching an Artistic Itch

It’s a Wonderful Story

By Kelly Stemcosky

Trout Run’s Lynn Kibbe etches pictures from practice.

By Maggie Barnes How a Wyalusing man wrote “The Greatest Gift” that became It’s a Wonderful Life.

18 Anne Alexander

Dances the Torch

By Lilace Mellin Guignard

Higher Ground Welding and Art shows one woman’s metal.

22 Folks Are Having a Bowl

in Athens

6 O Bucky Tree, O Bucky Tree!

By Lilace Mellin Guignard

The Mad Hatter Cafe serves homemade ramen.

By Cindy Davis Meixel How much we’ll miss your presence.

28 Return to Your Rutes By Karey Solomon

Ithaca’s International Rutabaga Curl rolls on.

30 Glory Hill Diaries By Maggie Barnes

Surely you have a Sure Stand?!

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34 Back of the Mountain

The Building Blocks of Fun

By Bernadette Chiaramonte-Brown

By Gayle Morrow Empire Bricks stocks LEGO joy in Painted Post.

It’s a Wellsboro life.

Cover photo © Анна Мартьянова / Adobe Stock, cover design by Wade Spencer. This page: (top) Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life; (middle) Bucky Green by Lindva Stager; (bottom) Empire Bricks by Wade Spencer.

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m o u n ta i n h o m e m ag . co m Editors & Publishers Teresa Banik Capuzzo Michael Capuzzo Associate Editor & Publisher Lilace Mellin Guignard Associate Publishers George Bochetto, Esq. Art Director Wade Spencer Managing Editor Gayle Morrow S a l e s R ep r e s e n t a t i v e Shelly Moore Circulation Director Michael Banik Accounting Amy Packard Cover Design Wade Spencer Contributing Writers Maggie Barnes, Cindy Davis Meixel, Karey Solomon, Kelly Stemcosky C o n t r i b u t i n g P h o t o g r ap h e r s Alexxis Imaging, Maggie Barnes, Bernadette Chiaramonte, Bill Crowell, Peter Korolov

D i s t r i b u t i o n T eam Amy Woodbury, Grapevine Distribution, Linda Roller T h e B ea g l e Nano Cosmo (1996-2014) • Yogi (2004-2018)

COMMUNITY US We’ve grown up here, just like many of you. Since its founding, C&N has been a part of the communities we call home. We live, grow and succeed together, so C&N will always be committed to providing more helpful service, convenient locations and expert advice to you— our neighbors.

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ABOUT US: Mountain Home is the award-winning regional magazine of PA and NY with more than 100,000 readers. The magazine has been published monthly, since 2005, by Beagle Media, LLC, 39 Water Street, Wellsboro, Pennsylvania, 16901, and online at mountainhomemag.com and issuu.com/mountainhome. Copyright © 2023 Beagle Media, LLC. All rights reserved. E-mail story ideas to editorial@mountainhomemag.com, or call (570) 724-3838. TO ADVERTISE: E-mail info@mountainhomemag.com, or call us at (570) 724-3838. AWARDS: Mountain Home has won over 100 international and statewide journalism awards from the International Regional Magazine Association and the Pennsylvania NewsMedia Association for excellence in writing, photography, and design. DISTRIBUTION: Mountain Home is available “Free as the Wind” at hundreds of locations in Tioga, Potter, Bradford, Lycoming, Union, and Clinton counties in PA and Steuben, Chemung, Schuyler, Yates, Seneca, Tioga, and Ontario counties in NY. SUBSCRIPTIONS: For a one-year subscription (12 issues), send $24.95, payable to Beagle Media LLC, 39 Water Street, Wellsboro, PA 16901 or visit mountainhomemag.com.


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It’s a Wonderful Story

How a Wyalusing Man Wrote “The Greatest Gift” that Became It’s a Wonderful Life

I

By Maggie Barnes

t all began with a baby boy born in Wyalusing, Pennsylvania, and, in a way, it ended with him. This is the story of a mother in need of a place to give birth, a baby who grew into a man who wrote a story, and a film director who deeply believed in the value of the human race at any time of year, but especially at Christmas. See Wonderful on page 8 6


Maggie Barnes

No book is a failure that has readers: A story that no one would publish became the basis for a classic holiday movie’s screenplay and is now available as a hardback deluxe edition, published in 1996 to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the release of It’s a Wonderful Life.

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Wonderful continued from page 7

Maggie Barnes

Anne Van Doren Stern was a nurse at a hospital in Williamsport. In 1900 she had a lot on her mind. She was pregnant, and her husband’s sales job kept him away most of the time. She shared her worry with some of her patients. They urged her to relocate to their town, Wyalusing, to bring her child into the world. The folks there, they told her, would help and support her and the baby. So, like another mother in another time, Anne traveled to a place she hoped would allow her child to be born in peace and love. On September 10 of that year, Anne delivered her son, Philip, into that circle of strangers-turned-friends. It’s hard to know how long they stayed, maybe until Philip was a toddler, then the little family moved to New Jersey where Anne had been raised. Philip grew up with a keen interest in history, especially the Civil War. He went on to become a renowned editor and author of historical books. During World War II, he served in the Office of War Information and adapted popular books to a size that would fit into a military uniform pocket. But it was a story that came to him in a dream for which Philip would be known. He was shaving one morning in February of 1938 when he remembered his dream. It was the tale of a forlorn man who thinks the world would be better off without him. The historian put pen to paper. Only 4,000 words in length, the work, titled The Greatest Gift, would take five years of tweaking before the author considered it complete. Despite his track record as a published writer, Philip could not convince anyone to give the slender book a chance. It was “fantasy,” and such a departure from his career that there seemed to be no value in it. But Philip loved his little story, and at Christmastime of 1943 he printed 200 copies and sent them to friends and family as holiday wishes, using that slim sizing he had learned for the Bridging real life and military. That simple act of goodwill triggered a series movies: Jimmy Stewart of events that reverberate to this day. Like a Christmas as George Bailey, begging fruitcake regifted a dozen times before getting to the one the angel to let him person who would know how to serve it, The Greatest live again (top); Jimmy Stewart laughs off-camera Gift passed through many lives before landing with a with director Frank Capra; movie studio executive and becoming a classic. The book recounts a brief tale—it spans only a matter of hours, a plaque on a steel truss and involves about a dozen people. So it’s doubtful even bridge in Seneca Falls where Antonio Varacalli Philip could have imagined the robust, decades-long lost his life after leaping in story that ultimately swept up an entire community that to save someone, much lay beneath his words. But someone else saw it. like George Bailey does. Today, too many families to count settle into couches and recliners in the glow of twinkle lights and evergreens to watch their traditional holiday favorite, It’s a Wonderful Life. How that moment came to be is a tale of luck, human error, perseverance, and faith.

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Capra Makes the Greatest Film from “The Greatest Gift” Frank Capra was fresh out of the military and looking to return to his civilian life as a movie director in Hollywood. He felt disconnected from the normal world and worried he had lost his relevance in the realm of moviemaking. He and some friends started a film studio, Liberty Films, and were on the hunt for their first project. A studio executive called him and told him of a story he had just purchased for which Capra was the perfect director. The exec told him he had paid $50,000 for a Christmas card and he wanted


a movie made of it. Capra said, “You paid $50,000 for a Christmas card? I’ve got to see that card!” Philip Van Doren Stern’s little story was now in the hands of the only man who could have brought it to life on film. Capra would write about The Greatest Gift: “It was the story I had been looking for all my life! Small town. A man. A good man, ambitious. But so busy helping others, life seems to pass him by. Despondent. He wishes he’d never been born. He gets his wish. Wow! What an idea. The kind of idea that when I get old and sick and scared and ready to die—they’d still say, ‘He made The Greatest Gift.’” The movie was made with one of the biggest stars of the time, Jimmy Stewart, born in another Pennsylvania town, Indiana, and himself a war veteran. Stewart’s greatest gift as an actor was to be an “everyman,” someone to relate to, especially in facing adversity. His trauma as an Air Force pilot informs his portrayal as George Bailey unravels on screen. It was a masterful performance. Stewart knew from the beginning that the film had something special, calling it his favorite of the more than seventy movies in his career. It wasn’t profound in any way, he thought, but it carried an inspiring message. “It’s simply about an ordinary man who discovers that living each ordinary day honorably, with faith in God and a selfless concern for others, can make for a truly wonderful life,” Stewart said in an interview. The movie is released in December 1946. Its reception is lukewarm at best. In the post-war years, maybe the public didn’t want heavy, emotional fare, favoring musicals and comedies. And it could have died a quiet death right there, relegated to the miles of movie film discarded the next time the studio needed storage space. But fate had not yet finished with The Greatest Gift or It’s a Wonderful Life. Human failure, so much a part of Philip’s original story, would prove critical on the path of this tale becoming part of millions of holiday celebrations. The Copyright Act of 1909 governed copyrightable works created before 1964. That act broke copyright into two terms, an original twenty-eight-year term, and a twenty-eight-year renewable term. That first step happened automatically, but you had to file for the renewal. For whatever reason, by whoever person, the copyright for It’s a Wonderful Life was not renewed on that second round. That made it free for any television station that wanted to air it. Stations saw it as a Christmas gift to fill the December schedule. That’s when families everywhere first saw the story that Philip had penned. The story that came to him in a dream. The story that, perhaps, his lonely mother had felt wrap around her when a community of people embraced her and her infant son. The story that began in Wyalusing.

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Where Is Bedford Falls? One community in New York felt the story so deeply, they based their identity on it. No one can argue that Capra meant to plop Bedford Falls into upstate New York. There are references to Buffalo, Rochester, and Elmira in the movie. There was originally a mention of Cornell University, but the school’s lawyers quashed that. Seneca Falls bears more than a passing resemblance to the community Capra invented to be the place where The Greatest Gift played out. Both are mill towns with a canal and a steel truss bridge where something significant happened. Both had large Italian immigrant neighborhoods. The housing stock and downtown configurations are

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Wonderful continued from page 9

nearly identical. Some of the street names are the same. If you know the film, you know the steel bridge is where George Bailey comes to his crossroad. He jumps into the icy water to rescue another and, unknowingly, begins his own redemption. On the actual bridge in Seneca Falls in 1917, immigrant Antonio Varacalli leapt into the canal to save a young woman, losing his life in his brave act. The locals in Seneca Falls will tell you that Capra himself made a visit to the town in 1945 while enroute to visit an aunt in Auburn. They say the director got a haircut from one of the immigrants, an Italian named Bellissima, who remembers his customer because they spoke in Italian, and he teased Capra about his last name, which means “goat” in their native language. This would have been about the time the screenplay for The Greatest Gift was being developed. He would have had to cross the steel bridge where a plaque honors Antonio’s self-sacrifice. So, maybe Capra saw Seneca Falls and the vision for Bedford Falls came to his mind? Heck, even famed Paul Harvey has done a “Rest of the Story” on the comparison. Residents believed it to be the case, and decided there was such a connection to the film that they should have an event, something small, to celebrate it. “It was a very low-key event,” recalls Anwei Law, director/president of the It’s a Wonderful Life Museum. “There was a screening of the movie at the theater, and we collected canned goods for the food bank.” The event started to gain traction through the ’70s and ’80s, but what happened in 1994 launched it into the heavens. Actress Karolyn Grimes, who played Zuzu, the youngest child of protagonist George Bailey, came to Seneca Falls. She was immediately struck by a feeling of familiarity with the town, and encouraged the festival’s growth. “By 2010, we knew we needed something more formal,” Anwei remembers. “We had one display case of items, but more was turning up all the time.” Enthusiasts combed Hollywood archives to find From flop to classic: photos of the sets, scripts, production notes, Capra biographical RKO Pictures movie information, and more. Unfortunately, since the film showed no poster from the 1946 signs of becoming relevant at its release, few of the original props release, which wasn’t were maintained—a couple of cars and two pairs of earrings are received enthusiastically some of what is still around. but got a second life Today, the It’s a Wonderful Life Festival attracts some 15,000 (like its main character); to a weekend of events—December 8 through 10 this year (visit Jimmy Stewart and cowonderfullifemuseum.com or call (315) 568-5838 for more star Donna Reed in the film It’s a Wonderful Life. information). People take photos on the famed bridge and tie small bells to its railings, an homage to Zuzu’s final line about ringing bells bringing angels their wings. The museum, located in the center of town in a storefront, features lots of photos from the movie and replicas of items used during filming. Down the block there is a sort of headquarters for the town’s claim to fame; Anwei is there on a Saturday welcoming visitors. It has an extensive gift shop where you can buy everything from character dolls and ornaments to serving trays and those bells, made by the same company that made them for the movie. There is a full-size copy of the “You Are Now In Bedford Falls” sign that George rejoices over on Christmas Eve. Every group that comes in has their photo taken standing behind it, and the smiles are huge. “It’s like visiting my childhood to see this,” a woman from Michigan comments as Anwei snaps her picture. Work is underway on a much larger facility that will offer an See Wonderful on page 12 10


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Wonderful continued from page 10

expanded IAWL experience. “We plan to recreate the sets from the movie,” Anwei says. “You’ll be able to visit Gower’s Drugstore and give town curmudgeon Mr. Potter the dressing down he so desperately needs.” (Actually, there was a scene in an early script where Clarence, George’s angel, appears to Potter and lays a little truth on him about his wasted life. But Capra wanted to leave it out, mirroring real life which often sees the bad guy go unpunished.) One of the surprising things Anwei has noted through the years is the love affair men have with the movie. “I’ve seen men tear up at the showing,” she says. “I think because Capra’s work always validated the man, reassured him that he was a success and worthwhile, even if the world didn’t think so. Men can relate to that.” Everyman’s Everytown The truth is, there really is no way to know if Frank Capra had a real community in mind when he breathed life into Bedford Falls. He refused to ever identify his inspiration, saying that he meant the town to be any town and the people in it to represent commonality with folks anywhere. “Bedford Falls is everywhere, every town that someone loves and remembers,” Anwei says. “That’s the whole message of the film. That everyone has value if someone loves you and remembers you. This town was honored by the selfless act of Antonio Varacalli and we, in turn, honor him by remembering him.” She pauses and watches the foot traffic outside a window display of a miniature Bedford Falls set on snow-like cotton material. It’s sunny this day, but it takes very little imagination to see the snow falling, collecting on the globe lamp streetlights and muffling the traffic noise. “People need the message of this movie,” she says firmly, “You need to step out of the world once in a while and remember that there are good people who do the right things for the right reasons.” Philip Van Doren Stern was one of those people. The baby boy born in Wyalusing wrote a little story that rejoiced in the human condition, celebrating the faceless George Baileys of the world, telling him he was valued. Frank Capra stated that he didn’t give care “whether critics hailed or hooted Wonderful Life. I thought it was the greatest film I have ever made. Better yet, I thought it was the greatest film anyone had ever made. It wasn’t made for See Wonderful on page 32


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Take a bough: Bucky still carves trees, but Dickens of a Christmas will never be the same.

O Bucky Tree, O Bucky Tree! How Much We’ll Miss Your Presence By Cindy Davis Meixel

W

hat if Santa Claus retired? Given the exodus of Stephen Buckner Green, aka Bucky, from Wellsboro’s annual Dickens of a Christmas celebration, some may feel that’s the case. Bucky, whose carved “Bucky Trees” are a Christmas classic, was the last of the original Dickens vendors who set up shop along Main Street for the town’s first foray into the Victorian venture in 1984. “It just got to be too much,” Bucky says. “It’s just the way it is when you get older, and I’m seventy-eight.” Although he has retired from the event, Bucky has not retired from crafting his beloved and sought-after trees. He and his wife, Elly, also an artisan, continue to be busy elves at their home workshops, tucked in the woods west of Covington. One visitor said their workshops “smelled like thirty years of friendship.” They are carving out a new and peaceful life, far from the madding crowd. “I’m still cutting firewood, still active here at home. We have eighteen acres here, and we just want to stay home,” Bucky relates. “We’re attached to the land, and that’s where it’s at.” In addition to a garden, Bucky and Elly have a pond where they enjoy watching the wood ducks and feeding them cracked corn. “It’s a habitat here for animals,” he says. 14

The top dogs on the land are, indeed, the canine kind: Willie, a seven-year-old rescue collie, and Rebecca Sue, a six-month-old chocolate lab. “They keep us young,” Bucky laughs. A quieter, simpler life is theirs—except when tree collectors come calling, especially as Christmas draws closer. Following a September Facebook post shared by fans who wanted to help keep Bucky’s sales strong, despite his upcoming retirement from Dickens, his address was shared widely. Without warning, it was a challenge to keep pace with the spontaneous drop-ins. “We got inundated,” he says. “It gets too crazy, and we don’t want crazy. I’m glad to sell my product, though. It pays the taxes.” Bucky welcomes people to call him first, then stop by to shop from the available stock, but he did not want to share his phone number or address for this story. “People will find the number when they ask around,” he adds. “We got inundated,” he adds. “It gets too crazy, and we don’t want crazy. I’m glad to sell my product, though. It pays the taxes.” Still, it’s the people that Bucky will miss the most from his Dickens days. “It was a great time to see everyone you hadn’t seen in a year,” he affirms. “I have a lot of people to thank for where I’ve gotten.” He won’t, however, miss the “set up, take

down, and dealing with the weather.” He’s amazed at how Dickens has grown. “What they did with Dickens is just incredible,” he enthuses. “It’s such a great show.” He fondly regards Bob Williams, of Wellsboro, who is credited with starting the festival as he spearheaded the Chamber Retail Committee. “Bucky has always been the most beloved of all the vendors,” Bob says. “People came from Washington, DC, and Philadelphia, and all over to line up for one of his uniquely carved trees.” “Bucky and Elly Green became icons at Dickens of a Christmas,” says Julie Henry, the chamber’s executive director. Two trees that Bucky carved from Wellsboro’s historic American elm, after a 2009 storm damaged a large branch and necessitated pruning, will be auctioned off by the Wellsboro Area Chamber of Commerce sometime in the future. You can be sure you’ll read about it here. A native of Wellsboro, Cindy Davis Meixel is a writer and photographer who resides near Williamsport. This is the second article she has written on Bucky Green for Mountain Home magazine.


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(2) Lilace Mellin Guignard

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Arcs and sparks: Anne Alexander demonstrates a stick welding technique; Anne outside her workshop in Elkland; one of the steel roses for sale at Dickens.

Anne Alexander Dances the Torch Higher Ground Welding and Art Shows One Woman’s Metal By Lilace Mellin Guignard

O

ne night, long after Racks Brew House had turned off the lights, a couple doors away in the garage-turned-workshop of the new community center, the Elkland Hub, music blared from behind the door that says Higher Ground Welding and Art. It was 2:30 a.m. when Anne Alexander turned around to see a fully uniformed local officer. “He was about to go off the clock and saw my car, so he came to see if he could walk me to my vehicle.” This kind and less-than-subtle hint that she was working too late sank in, and Anne turned her torch off and headed home to her husband, Dwayne, and daughters Ila, eight, and Anabel, five. “I’m a third shifter,” she explains. Many mothers, even ones who don’t wield a torch and grinder, understand the necessity of using the time after everyone’s asleep to get projects done. And Anne has more than a few projects. This will be her first time as a vendor at Wellsboro’s Dickens of a Christmas 16

on December 2, and she must build—literally—her inventory. Her signature item is a steel rose that blooms all winter long. Anne grew up in Nelson and moved to Williamsport at age fourteen. After high school, she worked at Red Lobster counting shrimp, and there, twenty-one years ago, she met Dwayne. “He’s been with me through it all,” she says. “He’s an accountant—my accountant, thank goodness.” Anne graduated from Pennsylvania College of Technology in 2003 with an associate’s degree in welding technology, and for three years she made boilers for a company in Williamsport. After it moved overseas, she qualified for Trade Readjustment Assistance, which allowed her to study biology at Kutztown University, receiving her BS in 2010. For a while she pinballed between fabrication and bio jobs, including agriculture research collecting data on crops and being a welding instructor at BOCES in upstate New York. In 2015, she finally got her own

workshop and struck her first arc in the barn her mother, Rosemarie Lugg, had in Nelson. The name, Higher Ground, is a nod to when the town of Nelson was flooded and subsequently relocated. While lady welders don’t run in Anne’s family, the women are known for breaking new ground. Her grandmother, Ila Wiley, after whom Anne’s oldest daughter is named, was Tioga County’s first female county commissioner. Anne shut down her workshop in 2018, when she lost use of the barn and had Anabel. She always intended to reopen—but where? In early 2022, Dwayne bought a building in downtown Elkland with the intention of creating a community center, and immediately leased the two-bay garage to his wife. That March, sparks started flying on Main Street. Her business has three components: welding instruction, fabrication and repair, and commissioned artwork. Anne equally enjoys the precise engineering demands See Anne on page 18


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Anne continued from page 16

of fabrication jobs and the creative freedom of her artwork. The instruction she offers runs from date nights to homeschool workshops to teaching employees of the global essential oils company doTERRA how to weld stainless steel—this after traveling to Kane several times to repair their birch oil stills. Anyone can call to arrange a custom experience. Anne will teach to any level, and she describes her workshop as an inclusive space. One woman drove from Mill Hall. She’d never been exposed to tools, had never been in a workshop, but after four hours she had a working knowledge of welding. Anne enjoys the personal empowerment aspect, saying, “She was a mechanically inclined individual who’d never been exposed to anything like this.” Kids, she says, often have not developed the fear of sparks many adults have. She’s taught welding to four-year-olds. Even though she’s exhibited in juried shows, it’s a surprise to her that her artwork, functional as some of it is, has become the focus. Joe Perry Winery in Troy commissioned her to make an indoor railing with grape vines because the ones they could buy were flat, and they wanted three dimensional. They also wanted parts to be removable so they could easily move furniture. She often works with the garage doors open so passersby can see. “I get a lot of foot traffic,” she says. The year’s success gave Anne the confidence to apply for Dickens, but she didn’t yet have an easy-to-replicate item, which is a requirement. She’d made her first rose for her mom in August, and realized she’d found what she was looking for. No roses are exactly alike. Each petal and leaf are traced, rough cut, fine cut, center punched, veins chiseled, drilled, and snipped. Roses are sepia, blueblack, and multi-colored. “When heat goes onto steel,” she explains, “it changes in a predictable spectrum—light straw to gold to brown to purple to blue.” Controlling the heat on the thin petals is more difficult. “I have to dance the torch,” she says. Then the Wellsboro Area Chamber of Commerce, who accepted her application on the spot, told her she’d set up on the corner of Waln and Main Streets, where Bucky Green, the last original Dickens vendor, and his iconic Christmas trees, had always been (see story on page 14). Anne was shocked and a little intimidated, but the Chamber assured her he’d be happy a local artist got the spot. Her friends are helping, and she’s getting lots of advice about how to keep warm (hand warmers down the back of pants works). Someone suggested stamping and dating each piece because many customers become collectors. In addition to steel roses, Anne’s offerings will include copper trout tree ornaments, fish sculptures, duck and cattail wine holders, hand carved lino-print holiday cards, and her special Lady Welder coffee blend, locally roasted in Forksville by High Mountain Coffee Company. You can also catch Anne’s creations, and those of other local artisans, at the Elkland Hub during her Makers’ Meet, 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Sunday, December 17. The Elkland Hub and Higher Ground Welding and Art are located at 210 W. Main Street. Call Anne at (570) 279-7074 or, better yet, message her via the Higher Ground Facebook page.


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19


Courtesy Lynn Kibbe

Wild Hearted, black India ink on white clay, scratchboard by Lynn Kibbe.

Scratching an Artistic Itch

Trout Run’s Lynn Kibbe Etches Pictures from Practice By Kelly Stemcosky

S

cratch, scratch, scratch. It’s a sound Lynn Kibbe has produced likely upwards of a million times over the past eleven years. But, unlike the usual definition of a “scratch”—an action that’s absent-minded or thoughtless—each one of Lynn’s is purposeful. Each is carefully planned and thoughtfully placed, contributing to a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. Lynn, of Trout Run, has etched out her place as a nationally recognized scratchboard artist. “There aren’t many people who do it,” she says. “Not many people know about it.” You may have heard of “scratchboard art,” but these aren’t the craft store kits from your childhood, the kind that come with a plastic tool to etch flimsy black paper, revealing a hidden rainbow layer. Lynn explains the differences. “The boards I get from online art supply stores are professionally made here in the states just for scratchboard. They have a layer of white clay over top of a masonite board. 20

And then on top of that white clay is this black India ink, so when it starts, the board is completely black. You can also get a white scratchboard that doesn’t have that black layer on top. You would then put your own colors on it and then use the scratchboard techniques to finish it out. I’ve done both, but I prefer the black.” The board doesn’t stay black for long, though. To etch out her impossibly detailed works, Lynn uses a variety of tools—a utility knife holder wielding a scalpel, sewing needles to create super fine lines, specialty scoops for etching out larger pieces, and new-wave ceramic blades. When she’s beginning a new piece, Lynn starts with a reference photo, frequently found in Facebook groups dedicated to copyright-free, high-resolution photos. That’s one of the reasons she doesn’t often accept commissioned pieces; to achieve that scratchboard-level of detail, she needs the reference photo to be super detailed and

clear. Lynn transfers the image onto paper the same size as her board, and then gets to scratching, passing glances between her reference piece and her board. She explains that when working with the black scratchboards, lighter areas of the photo require more layers of scratching, while darker areas are scratched less. “This medium is totally reductive, meaning everything you do is by taking off or removing something,” she says. Lynn made her first scratches over a decade ago while she was still practicing watercolor and oil painting. Scrolling through online forums for tips and critiques of her paintings, she came across scratchboard. “When I saw it, I just fell in love with it. I couldn’t get that level of detail with my paintings. So, I just kind of dove in and started doing it and uploading my work for other artists to critique,” she continues. “Luckily, with all the practice I had at home during the covid times, I improved enough where I


welcome to was able to achieve signature status with the International Society of Scratchboard Artists in 2021. That’s the thing I’m most proud of.” Nearly every artistic medium has an international society dedicated to helping artists better their work, and recognizing those who master their craft. The International Society of Scratchboard Artists (scratchboardsociety.org) acknowledges levels of basic, signature, and master artists—she’s right in the middle. To get there, she simply had to practice and apply. “Every year, they put out a call that you can apply for signature status, and you have to submit several pieces of your work online. And then, from that, they jury them and determine if they feel the quality is there for signature status,” she says, adding that she doesn’t plan on working toward master status, which has more rigorous requirements, such as hosting workshops. Lynn has taught a few beginner scratchboard classes, but she believes a two-hour lesson doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface, so to speak, of the medium. “As long as these take to do, I feel like I’m not doing people justice by putting them in a two-hour workshop and saying, ‘Let’s get this done.’ I do enjoy working with people who are interested in it and helping them learn. But, I just wish we could do it in about two weeks. Maybe one of these days.” Lynn’s own work is a huge time commitment. A typical piece measuring five-by-seven inches could take up to eighty hours over several months, and she’s completed more than 300 scratchboards over the past decade. Due to that, Lynne says, “pricing has been one of the worst issues of this whole thing.” “I’ve heard from other artists they have the same issue with pricing, no matter what the medium is. So, what I’ve come up with is my own formula that basically goes by size. Now, I can add into it if I feel like it’s an unusually complicated piece. I add a little bit more if it’s in color, because then you basically are scratching the whole thing out twice again to get those tonal values built back up.” The length of time to complete a piece doesn’t bother Lynn, though. She focuses on subject matter that means something to her, thereby ensuring she’ll never get bored. Her bestselling and favorite ones? “Wildlife. And some domestic animals such as horses are a favorite of mine, for sure.” Lynn encourages artists of all mediums to do the same, to make art you’re passionate about, and to never stop practicing and learning. “To anyone not sure where to start, I say just do it. If you don’t just do it, you’re not going to get anywhere. Especially if you’re self-taught, go online and find every resource you can find. Then, just practice, practice, practice. That’s all I’ve done. I haven’t done anything special; I just keep doing.” And, she keeps scratching. To view Lynn’s works for sale, find out about upcoming shows, to learn more about scratchboard art, or to make arrangements to view her collection at her home, visit lynnkibbefineart.weebly.com or find her on Facebook. If you’re in Wellsboro December 2 through 23, drop by the Gmeiner Art & Cultural Center where three of Lynn’s pieces will be on exhibit. And, contrary to what she says, she does do something that is very special. Kelly Stemcosky is an award-winning writer who works as a newspaper page editor/designer. A Tioga County native, she spends most of her free time volunteering for animal-related causes and hanging out with her family and cats.

WILLIAMSPORT

The Thomas T. Taber Museum of the

Lycoming County Historical Society

cordially invites you to view our holiday exhibit,

Stars…

A Holiday Exhibit at the Taber Museum DECEMBER 1, 2023 – JANUARY 20, 2024

858 W. Fourth Street • Williamsport, PA 17701 Hours: Tues.-Fri., 9:30am-4:00pm; Sat., 11:00am-4:00pm Please visit www.tabermuseum.org or telephone 570.326.3326

“For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream” —Vincent Van Gogh

Liberty book Shop Holiday Sale Now Through January 13

All Stock in Shop

1/3 OFF!

(excludes special orders, books on layaway, consignment books)

Stop by and see what we bought this Fall! We have new books in every category—the shop is bursting with great books at great prices.

Used, Rare and Out-of-Print Books. Your source for unusual books on any subject. Browse our in-stock selection of over 40,000 hardcover books and paperbacks.

HOURS: Thurs & Fri 10-6; Sat 10-3

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1 East Park St., Avis, PA 17721 • 570-753-5201 www.TheLibertyBookShop.com 21


Lilace Mellin Guignard

A rail honor: Ned Marrow stands with his granddaughter, Katie Yock, beside the Tioga Central Railroad passenger car named in his honor.

Ramen calm and noodle on: Slurp your way to souper bliss with the ramen variations at Mad Hatter Cafe and Tea Garden in Athens.

Folks Are Having a Bowl in Athens The Mad Hatter Cafe Serves Homemade Ramen By Lilace Mellin Guignard

T

erry Johnston, owner of Mad Hatter Cafe and Tea Garden in Athens, just celebrated her tenth anniversary. Long known for a place with healthy food options including vegan, gluten-free, keto, and locally sourced whole foods, the café has something new on the menu—homemade ramen. When Terry had health issues that caused her to stop regular hours last summer, her son Zack, who has grown up working and cooking at the Hatter, started weekly ramen events. The events did so well—people came from Scranton, Bath, Ithaca, Wellsboro—that Terry decided to reopen with ramen all the time, in addition to their fresh bowls, salads, and wraps. Why ramen? Zack admits to eating so much instant ramen when young that his family basically staged an intervention, worried about all the sodium he was consuming. So, three years ago, when he was finishing high school, he started experimenting with making his own. It wasn’t great at first, he says, until he looked into traditional Japanese cooking methods. “The aromatics are added at the last hour, so they don’t cook off,” he explains. 22

“The biggest thing was the tare.” Tare—the sauce—is the core of umami (savoriness) and completely changes the soup. Later he began making his own wheat noodles, using only the best semolina flour. “It’s so much healthier,” he says. “There’s less additives and stabilizers. I use real chicken and cook the broth down rather than adding powdered stuff that’s mostly salt.” It takes a day or two to make each broth—there’s always a meat one, a vegan one, and a special. For instance, the birria special consisted of a three-pepper spice broth. The wheat noodles must be made once a week after hours. There are also gluten free rice noodles and konjac noodles that are keto. The ramen can also be ordered as a grain bowl with their own blend of brown basmati, wild rice, and quinoa. The artistry doesn’t end there. The tares, like savory sake shio, mushroom shoyo, and three-spice kara miso, are made on site. The roasted garlic oil is homemade. The chashu pork is pork belly Zack braises, marinates, and roasts. He also prepares the ajitama, traditional soft-boiled eggs marinated for five days in soy sauce and sweet rice wine.

When ordering, you choose your broth, tare, aromatic oil, noodles (or grain), two proteins, and two toppings such as cabbage, carrot, negi (scallion), pickled ginger, nori (roasted garlic), bonito, sesame seeds, togarashi, and ancho chili. All for fourteen dollars. Zack, who still eats ramen almost every day, says a large variety of soups can be made from the options provided. There is also the Easy Choice (also known as the Picky Kid Bowl) where for ten dollars you get chicken broth, noodles, and one topping. The sunny dining room/kitchen is full of art and color, with people talking and slurping. Many are eating lunch, but some drop in for a baked good and beverage—espresso drinks, herbal teas, and the many drinks that use Bradley’s Country Creamery milks and eggnog. “You don’t get many grumpy people in a bright yellow room,” Terry says about this cheery spot to hang out. But don’t come on weekends. The Mad Hatter is open Tuesday through Friday, from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. Find them and their menu on Facebook or call (570) 731-7183.


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Wade Spencer

The prince of pieces: Matt Towner, alongside his wife, Juliet, and daughters Abby (left) and Ellie, entertain and educate folks at their aftermarket LEGO store and iCode learning center in Painted Post.

The Building Blocks of Fun Empire Bricks Stocks LEGO Joy in Painted Post

M

aybe it’s the promise of fantasy—you can create anything from dragons to Rivendell to an X-Wing Starfighter—as well as reality—go ahead, build the Louvre! But kids like opportunities to inhabit different worlds, and nothing makes a young face light up at Christmas or a birthday the way that the sound of a LEGO set does when they shake that gift box. At Empire Bricks, it’s not just the pint-sized who enjoy plunging their hands into that big bin of LEGO bits and pieces. Color, light, and an extraordinarily cheerful vibe pervade the 122-year-old former Erwin Town Hall at 117 W. Water Street in Painted Post on a fall evening. The place is teeming with people—there’s a Corning Chamber of Commerce-sponsored mixer introducing Matt and Juliet Towner’s aftermarket LEGO store, which is half of the ground floor space, and iCode Corning, a local STEM (science, 24

By Gayle Morrow

technology, engineering, mathematics) franchise that Matt and Juliet also own, which occupies the other half. “I’ve always had something going on,” says Matt, who is precious metals manager for Corning Inc. and has had an online LEGO store since 2016. He says they looked on Market Street in Corning for a storefront, then noticed this building was vacant, and it had been for about ten years. But it had space—13,000 square feet—good bones, parking, and room for almost anything they could imagine. It even had a park at the end of the street, which was a plus for their kids, Ellie, who’s nine, and Abby, who’s eight. When the couple, both lifelong Steuben County residents, began renovating the building, was there any discussion about using LEGO products (die-hard fans bristle at the use of “Legos,” Juliet cautions) in addition to, or instead of, the more traditional stone, brick, and mortar? Hmmm, probably

not, but what fun to consider. The engineering department at Open University, a public research university in the UK, figured out that it would take 375,000 LEGO bricks stacked one on top of another to cause the bottom brick to collapse. That amounts to 11,781 feet, or over two miles of LEGO bricks. Even so, probably better to have the LEGO pieces inside the building, right? So that’s what you’ll find. Lots and lots of pieces, along with LEGO sets, LEGO minifigs (miniature figures), even an assembled LEGO Titanic (over 9,000 pieces)—just an awesome abundance of all things LEGO. Juliet, who is project art director for Ministry Brands, a company that uses technology to help purpose-driven organizations like churches and nonprofits, explains that, “We are not directly affiliated with LEGO, but we do have one wholesale distributor with limited inventory. The majority of what See Blocks on page 26


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26

Blocks continued from page 24

we sell are aftermarket items.” They buy and sell only genuine LEGO products; they also offer set evaluations and will order missing parts, say, for the enthusiast wanting all 5,922 pieces that make up the LEGO Taj Mahal. Over at iCode, in three bright, glass-walled classrooms, kids are learning computer basics, programing, web design and development, game design and development, cybersecurity, AI, 3-D printing, and soft skills such as problem solving, creativity, leadership, and collaboration. iCode, a nationwide franchise with seventy sites, was founded in 2015 by Abid Abedi as an after-school program teaching coding and soft skills via a martial arts-style belt system. Each belt is based on mastering the skills of the previous lessons. There is no homework, however. (Can’t you hear the collective cheer?) Classes are onsite, two hours per week, typically run about nine months, and are instructor-led. There are, in addition to after-school programs, half-day, full-day, and three-day camps. “We can run separate camps at the same time,” Matt says, noting there were twenty-three over the past summer. iCode is also the place for game nights, birthday parties for current students and up to twenty friends, and you can book a free trial class. As for the rest of the building, remodeling and renovations are ongoing. There will be two Airbnbs and a couple of efficiency apartments on the third floor, living space for their family on the second floor, and a large area for storing and sorting all those LEGO pieces. Phase II is already in the planning stages and will include a patio on the roof and a private theater in the basement. “We want to expand to include a play area for kids, birthday celebrations, and adult get-togethers,” Matt says. They’re already hosting two or three parties every week at iCode and discussing adult options—bourbon and bricks anyone? At the moment, however, the focus is on the Empire Bricks and the iCode floor. And that’s all been good. “The support from the community has been amazing,” Matt says. Some of that support has come from Chemung Canal Bank and from the Southern Tier’s economic development entity—REDEC/RRC. George Miner, REDEC president, enthusiastically characterizes the Towners’ endeavors as “an interesting project,” one that “is kind of showcasing some of the projects we’re working on.” Though Empire Bricks is a new endeavor, LEGO toys have been around a while. They were first manufactured in Denmark in 1949. The name is derived from the Danish phrase leg godt, meaning play well. The iconic minifigs were first produced in 1978. The first LEGO store opened in Sydney, Australia, in 1984. The largest LEGO store is in Leicester Square, London. There are LEGO amusement parks all over the world. If you can’t make it to any of those places, however, Empire Bricks is a great option nearby. The store is open Monday through Friday from 3 p.m. to 6 p.m., Saturdays from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., and Sundays from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. Call or text (810) 280-7514, find them on Facebook, or visit empirebricksny.com for more information. To find out more about iCode, visit icodeschool.com/corning128, find them on Facebook at iCode Corning, or call (607) 599-1599.


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DISTRICT

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27


Peter Korolov

Veggie festivities: Have a totally tuber-lar time at the 26th Annual Rutabaga Curl in Ithaca.

Return to Your Rutes

Ithaca’s International Rutabaga Curl Rolls On By Karey Solomon

O

n a slow winter’s day at the Ithaca Farmer’s Market in 1997, bored vendors began hurling unsold frozen chickens into the empty aisles. Baked goods and produce followed. Things became competitive, particularly when it was discovered rutabagas had the best bounce and velocity. Who knew? So, each year thereafter, on the market’s season-closing Saturday, the market floor is marked with a target, drawn by whichever enterprising volunteers are around when chalk is distributed. And at high noon, the International Rutabaga Curling Championship begins. Celebrated with coverage on National Public Radio’s “Only a Game” and “Prairie Home Companion,” and even a mention in National Geographic, it now regularly attracts a sizable crowd of spectators and contestants of all ages. There are referees, generally wearing regulation black-andwhite-striped shirts—unless they’ve been recruited at the last minute—armed with measuring tapes, plus an emcee, Jeff Luomo. There’s even a rutabaga god, farmer Michael Klos, who descends from Mount Cruciferous carrying a torch with which to begin the pro-

28

ceedings. He’s accompanied by a parade of often-costumed contestants. Jeff previously appeared in the competition as a protestor advocating for vegetable rights—“Because what’s Ithaca without a protest?” he asks—and later costumed as a pun-spouting, well-rounded rutabaga. After that, he was tapped to be the announcer. This varied experience leads him to conclude costumes are an excellent idea for their added layers of warmth. Each year there’s an appearance by Rutabaga Ginsburg, sporting a lace collar and, these days, surmounted by a halo. Sometimes the Nor’Easter Bunny appears. Jeff speaks admiringly of one contestant who appears as Chew-baga, wearing a toasty, shaggy coat. “Brilliant idea,” he notes. Costumed or not, contestants pay five bucks each to enter and receive a rutabaga (the entry fee supports the competition). Each has the option of carving their personal vegetable to a shape they hope will help it win. Hay bales mark the course boundaries. The Rutabaga Choir also assembles, with great seriousness and a conductor, to perform a harmonious rendition of “Rutabaga!” to the melody of Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus.”

Next on the agenda is the kids’ Turnip Toss, for children eight and under. “We had to,” Jeff explains, “because the kids were winning everything and we had to have something for the adults to win.” Then the grownups take their turn. In both competitions, veggies that overshoot the goal are deemed “OOT” by the referees, who carefully measure the distance between the target and the ones closest to it, all under the watchful eyes of the crowd. There’s trash talk to undermine one’s opponents, a lot of audience participation, and much cheering. When the winners are determined, they assemble, Olympic-style, to be awarded much-coveted medals crafted by artist and vendor Christi Sobel. The turnips and rutabagas go home with their purchasers or whoever else wants them, to achieve a second life in soup, mash, hash browns, or roasted winter roots. Jeff always hopes a few will be left behind for him. There are not many vendors who grow rutabagas, and Jeff, discouraging enquiry, reports they are mostly grown in an undisclosed location near Trumansburg. However, diligent research led to the discovery of a vast rutabaga patch at Six Circles Farm in Lodi,


welcome to WATKINS GLEN where farmers Jacob and Lael Eisman tend an expanse of root vegetables enjoying a panoramic view of Seneca Lake most tourists would kill for. “They’re a little on the small side this year,” Lael says regretfully. He pulls a few, a little money exchanges hands, and in the interests of reportorial research, a few rutabagas return home for culinary experimentation. They are un-fragrant passengers, reminiscent of a person who has recently consumed too many eggs. The strong waft from the back seat reminds the driver, trying to breathe through her mouth, of their turnip/cabbage lineage. The Rutabaga Curl has been much celebrated. There’s an entertaining song about it by local singer-songwriter Joe Crookston that can be heard on YouTube. But there’s not much excitement about the vegetable itself. Some, including Jeff and Lael and various nutritionists, claim the rutabaga is a delicious, healthy, and fortifying foodstuff whose micronutrients, abundant fiber, and low carbohydrate content make it a worthy component of more meals than it regularly appears in. Historically, they seem most appreciated in times of famine, i.e., when choices have narrowed between rutabagas and gnawing tree bark. When last tasted by this reporter, at a hippie meal where mashed rutabagas were served, the consistency and flavors were unforgettably awful, reminiscent of pungent sawdust served with a little butter. “You mean you haven’t eaten rutabagas in almost fifty years?” Lael asks incredulously, this being more years than he’s been on the planet. “Try them oven-roasted with oil or butter and salt and pepper.” He pauses to consider. “Sometimes you have to oven roast them for a long time.” The experimental rutabaga was sliced and pan-roasted—chefspeak for “This probably isn’t worth turning on the oven for”—over medium heat in olive oil. Though a cool day, doors and windows were opened to air out the rutabaga perfume. While they simmered in hot oil, a pause to clean the cat box allowed the stench of ammonia to act as an olfactory palate cleanser. Could the remaining rutabagas be surreptitiously gifted to an unknown neighbor some miles down the road? But—surprise! The rutabaga chips are transformed by cooking. When lifted from the pan they were crisp on the outside, tender, even slightly sweet inside. These were drained on paper towels and salted. Jeff suggests eating them with salt and pepper; Lael favors curry aioli, which can be translated from chef-speak to “mayonnaise with curry powder.” However, the lion’s share of the first two batches mysteriously disappeared before a pepper shaker could be lifted. In short, they were delicious. Perhaps there’s something to the rutabaga mystique after all? Good thing they hadn’t yet departed for an alternate destination. This year’s competition begins December 16, at noon, at the Ithaca Farmer’s Market at Steamboat Landing. Come earlier if you aim to compete. Get extra rutabagas to take home. Learn more and see highlights of previous competitions at the International Rutabaga Curling Championship Facebook page.

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Karey Solomon is the author of a poetry chapbook,Voices Like the Sound of Water, a book on frugal living (now out of print), and more than thirty-five needlework books. Her work has also appeared in several fiction and nonfiction anthologies.

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29


(2) Maggie Barnes

Glory Hill Diaries

Do you see what I see?: For the first time, Maggie’s Christmas tree stands straight and tall and doesn’t require liability insurance.

Surely You Have a Sure Stand?! By Maggie Barnes

“A

tree dealer?” Bob shot me a side eye glance, then returned to watching the snowy road. “That’s what they said,” I replied. “He has property with large trees, but he only sells by referral.” “We need a referral for a Christmas tree,” Bob said, shaking his head. “We have officially gone around the bend on this.” I had to agree that it was weird, but the people at the tree farm had been quite certain. They didn’t have trees that exceeded eight feet, and we were in the market for a thirteen-or fourteen-footer, so they contacted a guy with a small grove of monster trees. We were now armed with a name and a location. And there it was—an unassuming white farmhouse with a stand of evergreens in the side yard. They were gorgeous, and I stumbled

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around in the snow in their midst, overcome by yuletide euphoria. “Bobby, look at them! I want them all!” The landowner smiled. “My late wife and I planted them when we were first married. I hate to see them go, but I know she’d want them to be a part of a family’s Christmas.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked back the threatening tears. “That’s why you only sell a couple a year?” I asked. He nodded. “I want to like the people who take them. You came very highly recommended.” I felt honored, while Bob’s look told me he felt silly. A half an hour later I had made the agonizing choice of a tree, though, truth be told, any of them would have worked. As Bob handed over a stack of cash, the owner asked if we had a stand that would be big enough. We

explained we had developed a system using a bucket, bricks, sand, and fishing line. He hiked an eyebrow. “You don’t have a ‘Sure Stand’?” “Since we don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ll go with ‘no,’” I said. We spent another fifteen minutes looking at online photos of the Stand Straight System for oversized trees. “The tree farm who sent you to me has them,” he offered. Back we went to be introduced to a clever gizmo that drills a hole in the center of the trunk to match the spike in the center of the stand. Bob watched skeptically. More than once he mumbled, “I don’t know if this is going to work.” The stand cost as much as the tree, meaning our holiday tradition was adding up to a mortgage payment, but I was all in on this concept. Bob was giving me the same look


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Maggie Barnes has won several IRMA and Keystone Press awards. She lives in Waverly, New York.

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he did when I tried wearing horizontal stripes. The most charitable thing he could say was: “Ain’t working for ya, Babe.” However the deed was done, and we stood in our living room with a small band of friends who had responded to our plea for help. We have learned through our years at Glory Hill that standing and securing a fourteen-foot tree is not a two-person job. They were expensive lessons, costing injury, damage to our home, and the estrangement of several friends who no longer answer our phone calls in December. This crowd was up for the challenge, including a new addition, a friend of a friend sort of situation. We were immediately enamored with her when she threw herself on the floor to steady the stand about six minutes after we met. Impressive rookie move. This gal was a keeper. We were prepared for battle. But an odd thing happened when the tree was slid onto the spike in the stand and shoved upright, a thing that had never happened before. It stood. One by one, we slowly moved our hands away from the boughs, keeping them in position for the inevitable tumble. And. It. Stood. No wires, no bricks, no thirty-pound fishing line anchored multiple times to the window frame. Bob and I shared a look of total disbelief. The house was silent. No one dared breathe. I swear to you that the tree’s branches settled into full extension and the tree itself sighed. “I don’t believe it,” I whispered. “Nobody move,” Bob hissed, convinced what he was seeing wasn’t genuine. I knew what was in his mind—the year the tree fell back against the windows only to launch our antique crucifix across the room and cost Jesus his left hand; the year the bucket tipped over and enough wet sand to entertain a daycare sloshed all over the hardwood floor; the year a hunk of the tree got stuck under the bucket and gouged into that floor a slash that still exists today, inspiring my spouse to create never-before-heard swear words. But none of that happened. The tree stood. We still tied it off, because we are veterans of the Evergreen Wars and we didn’t want to take the chance. Then the group stood back and admired. Total time of the operation: nine minutes. For the rest of the day, Bob and I wore expressions that would suggest something bizarre and unexplainable had happened. “All those years…all that time,” he would murmur. Some small part of me felt sad. The annual wrestling match with the tree was as much a part of our Christmas as cookies and Bing Crosby, so it felt strange to know we had fought our last fight. Would we enjoy the tree as much without the bloodshed, without feeling a thousand tiny perforations on our skin, without gobs of sap on our hands and the occasional pine needle shoved under a fingernail? Would it feel like Christmas without something broken in the house? Turns out it did, and we did. So we have closed that chapter of our holiday tradition and look forward to more peaceful entrances for our beloved Tannenbaum. We calculated that what we save in time and Band-Aids will help depreciate the cost of the new stand. We should break even right around Christmas 2044. Too bad the holidays only come around once a year.

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the oh-so-bored critics, or the oh-so-jaded literati, it was my kind of film, made for my kind of people. A film to tell the weary, the disheartened and the disillusioned, that no man is a failure. No man is poor who has one friend. Three friends and you’re filthy rich.” But let’s go back to that dropped ball on the copyright renewal. In 1993, Republic Pictures wanted to reclaim ownership of the film, so they went back to the beginning, back to Philip, and bought the rights to The Greatest Gift, which gave them the handle they needed to reign in the film and make it a special holiday broadcast. It also launched a robust home video and streaming market for it once those technologies came along. And that means that Philip’s vision, coming to him in its entirety while shaving one morning, has outlived him and will do the same to the rest of us someday. The two storytellers had little in common, but are linked forever in a hopeful vision for humanity. They bequeathed us a lifeline for the dark days. Capra said as much in his autobiography. “There is a radiance and glory in the darkness, could we but see. And to see we have only to look. I beseech you to look.” Wyalusing looks. Each year the Lions Club there provides meals to struggling families on nearly every holiday. The Helping Hands Food Pantry is on hand for the ordinary days. Each Christmas, residents stand together in the cold air and sing the old and familiar hymns. Corning looks. Their Lions Club joins with the Gaffer District for a celebration to support families who need a hand. The Palace Theatre shows holiday movies for the cost of food donations and to raise money for prostate cancer. Wellsboro looks. They helped bring Christmas back by producing a special ornament that reinvigorated a post-war industry and continues to adorn homes today. Each December, their Rotary Club hosts a Santa party for foster children at the Penn Wells Hotel, spreading the message that this small town values every person. Everytown, everywhere, with help from everyman. May this Christmas bring the realization that the world is only what it is because we are all in it. Let’s remember Philip’s story and never think everyone would be better off without us. And may we never hear the song of a bell without also sensing the flutter of angel wings. Could a simple book have a better legacy?

Maggie Barnes has won several IRMA and Keystone Press awards. She lives in Waverly, NY.

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B A C K O F T H E M O U N TA I N

It’s a Wellsboro Life

By Bernadette Chiaramonte-Brown

A

ny time of the year, Wellsboro’s Main Street is magical. The glow of Christmas lights and the recent soft fallen snow were the perfect combination for a stroll at midnight. This scene reminded me of my favorite carol, “O Holy Night!” Winter peace—the melody that soothes the soul.

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