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Good Living In

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No. 21 Spring 2014

Showcasing the People, Places and Pride of West Frankfort, Illinois

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al Borland, an American journalist once said that “No winter ever lasts forever. No spring ever skips its turn.” True, but this year, some of us may have worried that this might be the first time that happens. I felt compelled to lead with that thought, since winter has been the main topic of conversation for several months now. And if this is the year that spring skips its turn, at least we will have spring in Good Living in West Frankfort. Think of it as Camelot. As Michael and I were working on this issue of the magazine, there really wasn’t much spring to talk about yet, so it is more an issue of people. The Olympics and all the feelings it provokes both good and bad, made us think of Ola Snyder, a local resident who is actually the only person I have ever known who was originally from Russia. I loved talking with her and hearing her recollections and impressions of those days when she lived in Russia and then first encountered America. Ola is delightful. March Madness also brought to mind memories of a story Jim Muir had once published about Merle Jones, former publisher of the Southern Illinois Sports Connection. The story involved a bet that was made about the West Frankfort Redbirds and Jones promising to take a cruise down West Frankfort’s Main Street on a mule if he lost. For those of you too young to remember, I don’t want to give away the ending. But the story is contained herein. Thank you, Jim, for letting us share it here. We love stories of nostalgia, and West Frankfort residents who remember the Table Pride Bakery are as nostalgic about it as almost anything in our town’s history. This account focuses on the period during which the bakery was owned by the Zavich family with an update of where they are today. “Local girl makes good,” and Sherri Murphy got an opportunity to talk with Allison Durfee, who has recently been busy in Hollywood, working in public relations and rubbing shoulders with real-life celebrities. And let’s see, yes, Valentine’s Day came and went and I did not receive a giant Teddy Bear from my Valentine. I did, however, share some thoughts about how I felt about that and just where that bear might have ended up if I had. Michael’s story about bird watching, or rather watching bird watchers gives us some beautiful photos of winter birds in the snow as they answer the dinner call at feeders provided by a couple of local residents. And Michael wanted to share his own fascination with Anchor Dates, something he became interested in within the last year or so. Having something of a mental block about it, I’m going to take a pass on that one. My 17 years as a student and three as a public school teacher left me with some strong opinions about public education. During one of our fireside coffee talks one morning, Michael and I decided to share a poem we had written some time ago, “Here’s to the teachers.” This month we want to give a shout out to some hometown heroes, the West Frankfort Street Department, who have had more work to than they know what to do with this winter just keeping their heads above, uh, well, snow. Street Superintendent Roger Stanley and his crew are a great bunch of guys, and we are so lucky to have such dedicated city employees taking care of us all. Enjoy your spring, everybody. We’ve certainly earned it.

Gail Rissi Thomas, Publisher Good Living in

West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014 3

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Table of Contents

Anchor Dates: A little known pattern in our yearly calendar that is geeky and fun to use.

What Women Want is a humorous look into the silly things Madison Avenue thinks men need to buy women for Valentine’s Day.

West Frankfort resident Ola Snyder, a Russian immigrant, gives her recollections of the surprises she had when she first came to the USA.

In March of 1960, Southern Illinoisan sports editor Merle Jones bet against the Redbirds and lost. So what does that have to do with this donkey?

Education, or the perceived lack thereof in our public schools, is a hot topic these days. We take a closer look at the role of the classroom teacher.

18 24

The winter has been especially hard on birds this year. Tom Woolard and Gayla Mondino are just two residents who try to give our feathered friends a helping hand.

We revisit the Table Pride Bakery and learn about the Zavich family and how their bakery impacted West Frankfort.

West Frankfort’s Allison Durfee didn’t win a Grammy this year in Los Angeles, but she was there working behind the scenes.

Good Living in West Frankfort is a magazine about the people, places and pride of West Frankfort. Our goal is to showcase interesting, unique and previously unpublished stories about the citizens, events and places in our community in a positive manner. Good Living in West Frankfort provides businesses the choice to advertise in a high-quality full-color venue at affordable prices. This magazine is free to our readers because of those advertisers.

No portion of this publication, including photos and advertisements, may be reproduced in any manner without the expressed consent of Good Life Publications . ©2014 Cover graphic by Michael A. Thomas. West Frankfort’s Main Street takes on a golden glow right before sunset.

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West Frankfort A production of Good Life Publications 309 East Oak Street West Frankfort, IL 62896 (618) 937-2019

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West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

aving an identical twin brother comes in handy at times. In high school, twin brother Marc got his drivers license a year before I did. Our birthday fell in September and students with birthdays late in the year had to take Driver’s Ed in the summer if they wanted to be ready to take the driving test when they turned 16. So while he was busy spending six weeks of his precious summer vacation in class, I decided to relax and enjoy myself. I didn’t take the summer class. It didn’t really matter that much to me that I wouldn’t be driving come September 12th and he would. After all, I told myself, how many high school kids have their own chauffer? Later, I repaid the favor when we were both freshmen at SIU. He wanted to go home a day early for Christmas Break to spend some extra time with his girlfriend. All that stood in the way of this romance was his Chemistry final. I told him since I had to stay on campus for a couple of exams, I would take it for him. Of course, he was happy with the deal. We carefully planned our great deception. He gave me a study guide and some class notes. He told me where he sat in class and handed me his student ID. I could have probably used mine, but we wanted to be absolutely sure that our plan would succeed without a hitch. On the day of the test, a grad assistant stood outside the classroom door and checked each student’s I.D. as they entered the lecture hall. He matched photo to face and nodded me inside, completely oblivious of our incredible ruse. I took “my” seat and felt pretty smug that we had pulled it off. Marc was

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a little less thrilled later when he got his grades in the mail and saw that I had gotten a D on the final. I thought it was a very noble effort for somebody who had not been in a Chemistry class since high school. Recently Marc noticed something unusual about our shared birthday. It falls on the same day of the week as Valentine’s Day, the 4th of July and Halloween and it has done so not just this year, but also every year since we were ex-womb mates. This year it will be on a Friday. As it turns out, our birthday falls on what is known as an anchor date. And if you know about the anchor date and can calculate things in your head, you may be able to amaze your friends and astound your relatives by announcing that you are able to tell them what day of the week any date in the calendar year falls on. But first, we must tell you about what I mean by the anchor date. The anchor date for 2014 and for all non-leap years for the rest of the century is January 3rd. (For leap years the anchor date falls on January 4th.) If you look at a calendar, you will see that January 3rd falls on a Friday. By doing some simple calculation one easily finds that the 10th, 17th, 24th and 31st of January are also all on Fridays. From there it is simply a matter of adding or subtracting to calculate which day of the week all the other January dates fall. So, that does it for the first month of the year. But what if somebody asks for a non-January date? Lets take a look at the even months first. Most people have never noticed that April 4th (4/4), June 6th (6/6), August 9th (8/8), October 10th (10/10) and December 12th (12/12) all fall on the same day of the week. And it just so happens that they are all on the same day each year as the anchor date. February 2nd (2/2) is the exception, so you just have to remember that the last day of February always falls on the anchor date. The odd months are a bit tricky, but if you can remember the phrase “I went to my nine-to-five job at the Seven-Eleven,” you can easily remember that September 5th (9/5) and July 11th (7/11) are anchor dates. Flip the numbers around and May 9th (5/9) and November 7th (11/7) also fall on the anchor date. That leaves the anchor dates for March, which is merely a duplicate of February. It is not as complicated as it sounds, and with a little bit of practice it becomes easier to do the mental calculations. So what day of the week is your birthday? Can you figure it out without looking at a calendar? Give it a shot. Try it with family members or your friends. Turn off the gadgets and turn on your brain. After all, a mind is a terrible thing to waste.

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By Gail Rissi Thomas

ell, Valentine’s Day is over for another year. Cupid has put his arrows away and everyone is safe from a heart attack. All the little paper valentines that went to school to be exchanged with other little paper valentines have probably been trashed by now, unless they were exchanged by a first-born child or a kindergartener, in which case they have been carefully pasted into a scrapbook by a loving mother’s hand and put away to wait to be trashed about ten years from now. Ah, sweet holidays. There is one thing that I have been concerned about though. The thought may never have crossed your mind, but what has happened to all those teddy bears? You know the ones I am talking about— the Vermont Teddy Bears trotted out on TV cable news stations every year about a month before Valentines Day. They are life-sized, overstuffed plush teddy bears that are either delivered to some lucky lady executive’s office where she has to give it a chair to sit in, or carried in by her husband whom she greets with open arms, hugging him and the bear in a huge, well, bear hug, if you will excuse the expression. A voice-over tells poor hapless husbands or sweethearts that there is nothing this woman wants more than a big, ridiculous stuffed animal to lounge with. Right.

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Oh my, where do I start? The ad even shows the female throwing out her halfdead roses and icky chocolates, because a bear is so much cooler as a valentine gift. Sure it is. And what ever gave marketing executives the idea that men even watch the cable news stations? I think men are all grizzly frontiersmen at heart. They need to be advertising on shows like Ax Men, Gold Rush and that show about guys who kill alligators. Men basically are wannabe killers. Oh yes, and football, lots and lots of football. I rest my case. My husband and I were eating lunch last week and the Vermont Teddy Bear ad came across the TV telling us what women REALLY want for Valentines Day. Mike (jokingly, I’m sure) asked politely, “Would you like to have a Teddy Bear for Valentines Day? They are only $99.” “If you buy me that Teddy Bear,” I replied, “it better come with a loaded gun.” “Look at that thing,” he laughed. “It’s huge, where would we keep it?” “I guess on your side of the bed,” I answered. “It probably won’t get up at 3 o’clock every morning, read the paper, work the Sudoku, and come back to bed with cold paws.” OK, OK. So I sound a little cynical. But come on. Any wife or sweetheart over the age of 12 does not want a life-sized Teddy Bear, and any woman who has ever

West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

had a child has seen enough Teddy Bears to last her the rest of her life. Two or more offspring? You can bet that a few bears are still living in the house somewhere, and she probably still remembers their names. Vermont Teddy Bear Company sells over 500,000 bears a year. A quick search on the internet proves that there is a multitude of similar companies that make life-sized Teddy Bears, although I have a sneaky suspicion that they are really all born in the same factory somewhere in Vermont. A couple of websites even offer hippopotamuses (perhaps not lifesized but at least people-sized.) Why a hippopotamus? That I can’t say. Maybe the Christmas song inspired it. I would just suggest to any husband out there who might be impulsive enough to think your wife wants a hippopotamus for Valentines Day, she doesn’t. I don’t even know her. She doesn’t. Trust me. I wouldn’t even go there if I were you. Well like I said, Valentines Day is over. But when the next sweet holiday comes along, it’s kind of like answering questions on Jeopardy. Go with the obvious. Buy her candy. Buy her flowers. Write her a poem, even if it doesn’t rhyme. Take her to dinner. The obvious are obvious for a reason. Oh, and Rule #1, please don’t ask her what she wants.

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From Russia With Love

As a Russian teenager, Ola Snyder was determined to come to the United States as a foreign exchange student.Little did she know that it was a decision that would dramatically change her life.

Ola is from the Russian city of Naberezhnye Chelay, in the Republic of Tatarstan. The city has a population of 700,000 residents.

By Gail Rissi Thomas

est Frankfort resident Ola Snyder no longer gets lost when she shops at WalMart, but when she came to the United States from Russia as a foreign exchange student in the 1980’s, it was the first of many moments that were ‘huge culture shocks’ to her. “Stores seemed gigantically huge to me”, Snyder says. “I’d honestly lose my way in a Wal-Mart, and that was in the days before the colossal SuperCenters.” Ola was just 16 years old in 1987 when

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she first came to America as an exchange student through a federally-sponsored program designed to allow Russian youth to experience America. “It was during the time of great tension between our countries, and there was hope that young people would come here to learn that we are all alike really,” Ola explained. “We are more similar than we are different. I was so fortunate to be chosen. It was a very competitive program and I am a very competitive person. I took many tests over a nine-month period. I wanted it so badly.

West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

Ola Snyder holds a matryoshka doll, also known as Russian nesting doll. It consists of figures of decreasing size placed one inside another. Ironically, even though the doll was made in Russia, Ola says she bought the doll at a flea market in West Frankfort. Photo by Michael A. Thomas

Leaving my family was difficult, but I came here knowing I would return to Russia ten months later.” “I had always loved languages,” Ola continues. “I had always dreamed of being an interpreter. Knowing English, I was well prepared for coming to America. We went through a two-week orientation, where we were taught American ways. ‘In

America, they usually change clothes every day. The women shave their legs’ they told us. ‘It is human nature to compare or judge everything new based on how you grew up.’ It was almost a mantra that we chanted to get us to step out of that mentality. ‘It’s not worse; it’s not better. It’s just different.’” As a young girl coming from Russia, there were still shocking differences between the two environments. Ola found that some of the things that amazed her most about America we would never think to be a surprise. “I think the very first shock was when I walked out of the airport in New York that day in August. I didn’t realize that I was outdoors,” she recalls. “I thought I was still in some kind of enormous building with a huge dome overhead. The heat and humidity were a sensation that I had never experienced before. It’s hard to explain the feeling, but I was somewhat disoriented, and it took me a while to realize that was what the outdoors was like. In Russia we have snow on the ground continuously for about six months. I like that. I do much better with winter than I do with summer. Yes, even this winter,” she laughs. Other surprises came from her 700mile bus ride from New York City to the home of her host family, who met her in Indianapolis. As the bus drove through city after city along the route, the young Russian immigrant gained various first impressions of America. “None of the people walked. Sidewalks were empty, generally unused. Everybody got around in vehicles. In Russia, a large majority of the population don’t own a vehicle and very few women drive (although those numbers are increasing each year). That was a huge culture shock to me.” “As I looked out the window of the bus, I saw fields after fields of beans, corn, wheat. I had never traveled much in Russia, but they grow mostly beets, carrots and potatoes, cold-loving vegetables. I had never seen anything like this abundance of crops. They had a hard time making me understand corn. I spoke the British translation of English and ‘corn’ was ‘maize.’ I had nothing to relate those two words.” “I was amazed by the number of churches. It seemed like everywhere I looked there was a church on every corner. Different denominations, ones I’d never even heard of. And everybody seemed to have

had some form of spiritual background or training, or at least church experience. I had never held a Bible in my hands, never heard of even the most basic Old Testament people’s names and their stories. I hadn’t heard the Biblical story of Christ’s birth until that Christmas, and the circumstances surrounding His death and resurrection until that year’s Easter. I remember feeling embarrassed of my spiritual ignorance.” Her host family, a Baptist Minister, his wife and daughter, picked her up in Indianapolis and took her to their home in Rob-

inson, Illinois. Ola’s American adventure began. It was also her American family who first introduced her to Christianity. “They gave me a Bible written in Russian,” she says. “They told me about Jesus Christ and the path to salvation. There were no Bibles in Russia anywhere that I had ever seen. There were no churches. They were either boarded up and used for storehouses or had been destroyed. But, when I was 16 years old, I heard the story of the Nativity for the very first time. When I returned to Russia, I took my Bible with

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me. I was put in contact with a Baptist minister there who was actually some distance from my house. They did not have church services, but at least I was in touch with Christians.” Ola was also not prepared for how ‘smiley’ American people were. “Just that culture of smiling and saying ‘hello’ to complete strangers or when you meet someone’s eyes in a checkout lane, for instance,” Ola explains. “I remember that being a very, very big difference in culture and general conduct. Even though as a rule, Russian people are affectionate and hospitable to people they know, or at least recognize, it is generally unacceptable to smile for no apparent reason, especially at people they don’t know, even in conversation with store clerks or receptionists.” “On the whole, people surprised me by their friendliness and loving hospitality. Most people displayed genuine interest and concern, and strove to make me feel welcome, and to get the most out of my experience during my schoolyear-long stint in the U.S. However, interestingly, that wasn’t the case with people my age. I remember having to work really hard to reach out to my peers in high school in order to have anybody interact with me in any kind of meaningful way. I mostly attributed that to a small-town mentality. I found kids to be set in their ways when it came to their social interactions, not much interested in ‘outsiders’ at all.” “I was amazed at the easy access to such a large variety of foods. In Russia, our food is hearty, but very simple. We have soup at least one time every day. We had bread and vegetables, sometimes flavored with meat or broth made from meat, but I had never seen so much meat as a main dish. I had always heard of bacon, but never tasted it. I loved it and still do. We do not have

One of Ola’s cherished momentos from her childhood in Russia is this picture of her with her father and mother.

peanut butter in Russia. I remember taking peanut butter home with me for everyone to taste. I loved all the food here; there was really nothing that I didn’t like.” “Even today, I cook pretty simply for my family. I don’t know much about what to do with meat. I never grew up having pork chops or steak. It is so much meat, so expensive that I am afraid I will ruin it, so even now, we eat more simple fresh food, and soup is still a big part of our daily meals.” When Ola’s ten months in the United States came to an end, she said goodbye to the Americans who had become her family for a year and returned to Russia, believing she would never see America again. She remained in her homeland for two years, but people here who had come to love her helped make it possible for her to return here to attend college. “That was my greatest dream, to receive an education,” she said. She attended a community college near Robinson and eventually was able to earn a bachelor’s degree in business. It was while she was in college that she met her husband, Brent Snyder, a musical evangelist who travels and sings with the trio, “Sons of the Father,” made up of Brent, his father Les, and brother Chris. Although she has traveled with them at times, allowing her to see more of this country, home-schooling her three young daughters keeps her close to West Frankfort. “I try to return to Russia every couple of years,” Ola says. “Now that I am an American citizen, it is easier for me to travel there and easier for my family in Russia to come here. Having two families half way across the world from one another has been heartbreaking at times. “My mother was able to come to my wedding, but my father could not get a visa. I guess there are so many Russians who defect to the United States that they felt if part of the family remained in Russia, it was safe that my mother would return. When my father died, I did not get to see him or go to his funeral,” she adds. “I already had my visa and tickets for me and my only daughter at that time. She was a baby, an American citizen who was born here. When the time came, she was free to leave the U.S., but did not have the papers to enter Russia. My father died two days before we may have been able

to travel to Russia.” “I was from the Russian city of Naberezhnye Chelay, which translates to “Canoes on the Bank.” The population is 700,000 residents. It is in the Republic of Tatarstan; we have partial autonomy. We have our own President but are still under the larger authority of Russia. The apartment complex we lived in, where my mother still lives, houses about 2,000 people. During the ten months I was in the United States with my host family in Robinson, I was able to talk to my parents only one time by phone. I remember it was on New Years Eve. It cost me $3.50 a minute. Now I talk to my mother on Skype almost every day for free,” she laughs. “There have been major changes in Russia since 1996, but even more so in the past five years,” Ola says. “There is much more technology now, but everything is imported, so it is much more expensive. An Apple computer would probably cost about $4,000.” “I have been watching the Olympics, and of course it is interesting to me, because it is in my homeland. It is kind of frustrating to hear the journalists talk so much about the conditions there. It is a simpler life. I grew up that way. I never felt we were really poor. It was the same for everyone. They talk about the restrooms so much. That is just the way it is. There are 700,000 people in my city and not one public restroom. They cannot expect to go there and find everything made over like in America just for them. Even in private bathrooms, a toilet is usually like a toilet seat on the floor. They are nothing like ours.” “And No, the water is not good,” Ola says. “Bottled water is available to buy and that is what we drink if we are there. I would not drink the water even if it was boiled. And I can tell you that National Healthcare is not the way to go,” she laughs. “ Everyone has a regional center for healthcare. There are no second opinions; it is not always soon to get to see a doctor. It is a very inefficient system that lends itself to corruption. I suppose that people who have means to offer the doctor an incentive for better or faster services, that is what they do. Russia is notorious for corruption.” “I’ve watched a lot of the Olympics and enjoy it,” Ola says. “I haven’t enjoyed listening to them talk so much about the conditions. The American journalists need

to understand that it isn’t America. It is a different culture and that is just the way it is. They are there to bring us the Olympic events. If all they are going to do is whine and complain, then why don’t they stay home? I watch both the Russian and the American versions. Especially in the opening ceremonies, they were very different. The American broadcasters didn’t really understand anything that was going on other than that it was pretty. They would say things like, ‘I guess what they are trying to show is …,’ or ‘they might

be referring to a time in Russia when …’ Naturally the Russian journalists really understood the background behind all the pageantry. They would explain in great detail the history of Russia that was being depicted. Of course I understood most of it already, but I still enjoyed the great details they explained about what we were seeing.” “I am 33 years old,” Ola says. “When I went back to Russia I was 17. I never dreamed that in two years I would return to live the rest of my life as an American.”

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hard fans. At times entire communities are engulfed in March Madness as evidenced by shoe-polish messages on storefront windows and players’ names and jersey numbers painted on homemade wooden signs attached to utility poles. The impact that March Madness has on individual fans might be the biggest transformation that takes place. Normally quiet and reserved people sometimes take on a new loud and outgoing personality and in some of the most severe cases of March Madness grown men have been known to giggle like a school girl one night only to cry like a baby the next. Work is something to be tolerated until game time and sick and personal days are oftentimes exhausted during February and March. On game day those most affected by March Madness often experience a nervous, anxious feeling while looking at their watch countless times during the day, not to find out what time it is but to figure exactly how many more hours, minutes and yes … seconds until tip-off. With the advent of the multi-class system in Illinois, March Madness is now preceded by an equally strong ailment known as February Fever. Most people so diagnosed report that February Fever is simply a milder strain of March Madness. Nobody knows for sure when it will happen but just like every year during the past century February Fever and March 17, 1960. An unidentified man (left) leads sportswriter Merle Jones atop Zephyr, the mule, down West March Madness will sweep through Frankfort’s Main Street as the result of a friendly wager with West Frankfort Redbird Basketball fan Bill DarSouthern Illinois again in 2008. And nell (far right). Photo provided once again this year legends will be made, players and coaches will be immortalized, dreams will be fulfilled, goals will be accomplished, (Ed. Note: The following article orginally appeared in the Februhearts will be broken but most importantly memories will be made ary, 2009, issue of Southern Illinois Sports Connection magazine that will forever be cherished. and is used here by permission from SISC Publisher Jim Muir.) Merle Jones and Bill Darnell met only once in their lifetimes, but my-oh-my what a memorable meeting it was. In fact, it was By Jim Muir a meeting that thousands of Southern Illinois basketball fans can still recall with exact detail. Jones was the legendary sports editor ach year a strange phenomenon takes place through- of the Southern Illinoisan newspaper and Darnell was a civil deout the state of Illinois – a phenomenon that afflicts fense worker who lived in West Frankfort. A series of events and countless people and in some instances changes lives a touch of March Madness brought the unlikely duo together on a forever. Nobody knows for sure when it will arrive but just as cer- cold, blustery and snowy day 48 years ago. tain as the cold winter winds will give way to warm spring days Jones, who served as sports editor at the Carbondale-based March Madness will appear. And with its arrival odd things will newspaper for nearly 30 years, was looked on as an icon and an begin happening. institution in the region. It was often said that once an individual’s Basketball fans will think nothing of driving 100 miles to see name appeared in one of Jones’ column it was a clear indication that a game, lines will form in front of gymnasiums three hours before person had arrived and was a fixture on the area sports’ scene. game time and school colors will dominate the wardrobe of dieIn his easy and folksy style of writing, Jones often made pre-

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West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014 15

dictions about certain games. One of those predictions came in March 1960 prior to a super sectional match between West Frankfort and Granite City. The Redbirds entered post season play on somewhat of a down note, going just 2-6 during their last eight regular season games. In the regional finals the Redbirds had to come from behind to beat Johnston City by a score of 40-34. West Frankfort then defeated Mounds 71-69 in double overtime in the first game of the sectional and then squared off with Metropolis in the sectional final played at Herrin. On the other side of the bracket Pinckneyville and Granite City played in the other sectional final in East St. Louis. The two winners would then meet, also in East St. Louis, in the super sectional and the right to advance to Champaign, where the state tournament was played. Jones wrote that Pinckneyville or Granite City, regardless of which team won, would be the heavy favorite to advance to state tournament play. In what might have been an omen that Jones didn’t recognize at the time, West Frankfort defeated Metropolis 71-69 in double overtime – its second straight double overtime victory by the exact same score. Granite City knocked off Pinckneyville 73-66 to set up the East St. Louis super sectional match up. Convinced that Granite City was the better team, Jones wrote the following sentence that started the now legendary chain of events. “The Redbirds go to Champaign, win or lose, but they need not worry about taking their uniforms,” Jones wrote in a Sunday column on March 14, 1960 predicting Granite City was a cinch in the super. The day after the column ran in the newspaper Jones received a note from Darnell, a young civil defense worker and avid West Frankfort Redbird fan. “I would like to thank you for your preview of the West Frankfort-Granite City game,” Darnell wrote. “I’m inclined to go along with you on your prediction but I’m not quite as sure as you are.”

Then Darnell penned the paragraph that will forever be etched in the annals of Southern Illinois March Madness history. “If West Frankfort beats Granite City and gets to take their suits to Champaign, you should ride a jackass down the main street of West Frankfort in front of the parade. Since you know the outcome it is no gamble on your part.”The letter was signed by Darnell and also contained a post script. “PS – I will furnish the jackass.” Showing that he was up for the challenge and also displaying his flair as a writer Jones fired back a quick reply to Darnell via another column the following day. “Brother Darnell, you’ve got yourself a deal. Nothing would please me more than to lead the victory parade.” Proving the unpredictability of high school basketball West Frankfort pulled off a stunning upset defeating Granite City 66-64 in double overtime – their third successive double overtime win. Years later Jones wrote about the night of the game, the parade and his ride down West Frankfort Main Street on Zephyr, the mule. Jones wrote: “That night produced one of the biggest snows of the winter – so much that the Redbird team stayed overnight in East St. Louis. I was not so fortunate. I had to come home that night to write my story for the next day’s paper. The next day was something else. The West Frankfort radio station kept blaring away about parade plans. I kept getting telephone invitations to appear.” Jones continued: “I arrived in West Frankfort before noon. Friend Darnell had two donkeys ready. I guess the spare was in case one donkey froze to death before the team arrived about 2 p.m. I know I almost froze waiting for the team. We had a fine parade with hundreds of fans and curious travelers lining both sides of the street. Redbird fans were good sports and hardly anybody threw snowballs at the man on the donkey. Those fabulous Redbirds of 1960 put me on a donkey for the first and last time. Imagine three straight

double overtime victories and two by the same score!” Jones retired from the newspaper in 1978 after nearly three decades of covering Southern Illinois sports. Jones died on Dec. 8, 1993 following a three year bout with cancer. Darnell, now 74, lives in Florida but also maintains a residence in West Frankfort. Only 26 years old when he made the challenge, Darnell still has vivid and fond memories of that March Madness moment nearly five decades ago. “I was really a little put out with Merle for writing that,” said Darnell. “High school basketball is so unpredictable, especially in the post season. I really thought he went a little out of bounds writing that, he didn’t give us any chance at all to win.” Instead of getting mad about the column Darnell decided to extend a good-natured challenge to Jones and spent two hours composing a letter. “I wrote the letter and challenged him and then he wrote about it in the paper,” said Darnell. “I was surprised because he accepted the challenge and was a good sport about it.” Darnell laughed as he recalled Jones’ first meeting with Zephyr. “He (Jones) took one look at the mule and said, ‘do you expect me to get on that thing’ and I said, ‘get on there, you said you’d do it if West Frankfort won … and we won,’” Darnell said. “In the end he was good natured about it and we laughed about it. There were a lot of people that wanted to see him on that jackass, so there was a big crowd at the parade.” Darnell said the story has been recalled many times throughout the years but he never talked to Jones again after the parade. “The reason I wrote the letter was because I took a lot of pride in local sports and he made it sound like we shouldn’t even show up,” said Darnell. “I don’t think either one of us thought that we would end up being a part of March Madness history in Southern Illinois, though.”

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West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

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West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014 17

By Gail Rissi Thomas

ave you ever been the subject of an experiment? Most of us would probably answer “No” to that question, but that’s probably not necessarily true. I would propose that since the day we started public school, almost everyone of us, without our being aware of it has been subjected to the teaching trial of the year, and we have seen plenty of them come and go. For 12 years, we each attempted to learn under a steady flow of changing theories: Instructional objectives, teaching machines, Action Goals for the Seventies, The “New Math,” Illinois State Testing Mandates, Writing across the Curriculum, No Child Left Behind, and now the new buzzword: Core Curriculum. My son, Jay, a student who went through

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school in special education, had an IEP ery class. “ It’s time we see education for every year, an Individuaized Educational what it has been, a multi-trillion dollar exPlan, written just for him and expected to periment – that didn’t work.” In my opinion, the greatest new tool be followed to the last letter of every goal. for educating the masses was introduced My older son, John, was a gifted and very by James Pillan. That would be the blackintelligent student who went on to achieve board which became popular in Scotland in lofty goals in higher education. I have althe 1890s, And as for curriculum, I suggest ways maintained that he needed an IEP as that the most important subject we could much or maybe more than Jay did. In fact, every student in the school system, regardless of potential EVERIN needs an IEP. Of ARDEN ENTER, NC course that’s impossible, but that is the LANDSCAPING TREES • SHRUBS • EVERGREENS only way to keep the SHRUB TRIMMING • SPRAYING experimentation out “CALL THE PROFESSIONALS” of teaching our children. I had an eduDALE & PEGGY SEVERIN 721 NORTH GARDNER STREET PHONE: (618) 932-3017 cation teacher once WEST FRANKFORT, IL 62896 at SIU who told ev-

West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

Graphic by Michael A. Thomas

Remember theTeacher

teach in public schools is rarely introduced until the university level. That would be philosophy. Philosophy should be taught in kindergarten and retaught at every level through high school. Too many educated citizens in this country come out of our schools not knowing how to find out what they need to know when they need to know it, how to get along with others, how to get along with themselves, how to cope with failure. How to cope with success. What if teachers had time and freedom to put aside the mandates for a while every day and teach the things that really matter in making a life, as well as those necessary to make a living. “Philosophy in Kindargarten” you ask? Sure. “When looking at your two paws, as soon as you have decided which of them is the right one, then you can be sure the other one is the left.” -- Pooh's Little Instruction Book, inspired by A. A. Milne “You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.” -- Pooh's Little Instruction Book, inspired by A. A. Milne And lessons for the middle grades? “I was taught at a tender age that Bullying had nothing to do with me; instead it had everything to do with the heartache of the person doing the bullying.” --Tiffany Haisten, Red Is the Color Of... “If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.” ~Dalai Lama , It’s possible. This is March, an important month in education when school boards across the country are deciding what gets cut and what doesn’t, and more importantly, who goes and who stays. I would bet that if you asked a thousand people when, why and how they learned the best when they were in school, very few would say, “During Michael Bakalas’ Goals for the Seventies,” or “Taking ISATs.” I’d put my money on most of them naming a teacher, a person who touched them, encouraged them and taught them a little philosophy every day. Several years ago, Michael and I wrote a poem at the request of the West Frankfort teachers for their retirement dinner. It seems worth repeating here:

Who Will Remember?

Who will recall the Valentine’s made the cutting, the painting the folding and gluing of Halloween pumpkins and Thanksgiving turkeys the little white snowflakes that needed redoing? Something for every holiday, please year after year of Christmas trees... Who will remember?

Who will remember you next year after you’re gone and no longer here? When you name is no more above your door to proclaim your domain to all the Johnnies and Susans, Jennies and Shanes? And next August there’ll be another name above that door, a silent announcement that you’re there no more. Who will remember?

Martin Luther King and Presidents two, It’s March! What the heck did Pulaski do? Then comes April and after that May and suddenly the ‘last day of school’ when she walks out to summer and closes her door for the very last time. But who will remember those times before? Who will remember?

Who will care you were even there, day after day, year after year, teaching children and wiping a tear from the face of a child who’d been in a fuss or forgotten his lunch or missed her bus? Who will remember?

The young college coed breathes a sigh as she watches the minutes tick slowly by. She wishes only that she could be gone but the professor’s voice drones on...and on. Then like a trigger, something he said clicks like a memory that lights in her head. A teacher who took each lesson one by one and tried to make each clever and fun.

Who will know about the dotting of i’s and the crossing of t’s the doing their best in the spelling bees? Would only their parents be able to see that progress was made with great accuracy? Who will remember?

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West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014 19

‘He kept my eyes bright and curiosity burning... he taught me the love and importance of learning.” She turns her attention back to the class, five more minutes have drifted past. I’ve got to hear this--I’ve got to prepare This is important! She remembers him there. Commencement day. The gym lights glisten. A young man sits and quietly listens. They’re speaking now of destiny, courage and opportunity. He smiles as he thinks to himself, “You know, I’ve heard this before so long ago. My second grade teacher so often said ‘Look to tommorow and think ahead’ It was the same message then as now, it seems. Don’t forget to plan, but remember your dreams, be brave, be kind and take time to care.’” He remembers her there.

The colognes, the nick-nacks, the earrings and pins’ the smiles that made up for a year’s worth of sin. “Don’t talk in line, to litter is bad To tell a lie should make you sad.” And while teaching to read and print their name life’s little lessons were part of the game. Lessons taught incidentally, and yet lessons some students will never forget.

A young mother gets her child ready for school. With a smile she blinks a tear and remembers another year when with much excitement and fear she was ready to make her third grade start (cross your fingers and hold your heart!) But the teacher knew what was on her mind. She welcomed her cheerfully, patient and kind telling her what a great year they would share! She remembers her there.

So here’s to the teacher who taught them to face every new challenge in every new place. To the teachers who taught “Be neat and be kind be open to others but know your own mind, Have a good time, let your spirit be free but always a lady or gentleman be.” They taught them to always be honest and fair Hundreds of children remember them there. ® May , 1997 Michael & Gail Thomas All Rights Reserved

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Tom Woolard fills one of his many bird feeders with black oil sunflower seeds.

Feed The

Birds

Story and Photos By Michael A. Thomas

(Right): A Hairy Woodpecker, one of seven varities of woodpeckers found in Illinois, takes a rest from feeding.

he winter months have seemed unusually long and cold this year. Phrases like “winter event”, “artic blast”, and “polar vortex” have become standard fodder for television weather forecasters on the local networks. One doesn’t have to be outside very long to appreciate the coziness of a warm abode and a cup of hot coffee while we wait for a March thaw or the first

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signs of spring to appear. Yet, in spite of some very bitter weather conditions, which have sent temperatures dipping into the single digits and below, birds have to not only find a way to stay warm but also find food to eat. Winter is not a stress-free time for birds. The days are short, and nights are often cold and long. Insects are long gone or dormant. Much of

West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

their natural food may be covered by snow, and water can be hard to find. But all is not bleak for our friends with a beak. Many West Frankfort residents are in the habit of assisting birds during this time of crisis. The aid may consist of simply tossing out a few breadcrumbs in the back yard, or in the case of serious birders, it may involve much more. Gayla Mondino and Tom Woolard are just two of many residents who go to considerable effort—and some expense—to help keep birds fed on a regular basis. Woolard, the former West Frankfort postmaster, has been feeding birds for over 20 years. The hobby began innocently enough when his son, Benjamin, was only 6. “Ben was in Tiger scouts, and one wintry day, he told me they had been given a project to take a pine cone, coat it in peanut butter, roll it in bird seeds and then hang it from a branch.” Tom was skeptical that this would appeal to a bird, but encouraged his son to give it a try. “We hung it out on a tree and in 24 hours it was stripped bare. We made another one and the same thing happened. From then on I was hooked.” Woolard bought a bird feeder and filled it with seed, and it also got results. Since then, he has turned his backyard into a Mecca of sorts for his feathered friends. He now has 11 bird feeders of various shapes and sizes placed throughout his spacious back yard. Flocks of birds come to this smorgasbord of seeds during the day. Woolard watches it all through a large bay window in his dining room. “Cardinals like to feed early after sunrise and then again right before sunset,” Woolard explains. “We get a

A large flock of cardinals wait in a neaby tree for their turn to eat from the feeders in Tom Woolard’s yard. Woolard says birds seem to sense when bad weather is coming.

lot of commonbirds: cowbirds, starlings and blackbirds. But we also get juncos, chickadees, titmice, nuthatches as well as the cardinals.” A pair of binoculars and a well-worn copy of “Sibley Bird Guide”, invaluable aids to any serious bird watcher, are close at hand. Migrating birds are a special joy. “I have a serviceberry bush in the back yard. At a certain time of year it will be covered in hundreds of red berries. And about that exact same time, a flock of cedar waxwings will show up on their way from Canada. It is as if they know when those berries will be ripe. They will stay for a day or two and strip that bush clean. They really love those berries. They are beautiful birds, and after those couple of days, they are gone and I never see them again until next year.” Woolard buys his birdseed by the bulk. Black Oil Sunflower seed is the most popular selling birdseed in American and attracts a large variety of birds.” A 40 pound bag of sunflower seeds will last me about 2 weeks in the winter,” says Woolard. He

Photo by Ann Hohenberger

also provides suet. The animal fat is vital for birds, who are warm-blooded animals that must maintain their body heat by eating in order to survive. “The Downy Woodpeckers, the Hairy Woodpeckers sand the Red-Bellied Woodpeckers really go for the suet.” One other creature comfort that Woolard provides for his birds in the winter is a heated birdbath. A reliable water source is something which birds don’t always have in freezing weather, and Woolard’s keeps the water from freezing. “Water is something they need, not just for drinking but also for grooming,” he explains. Gayla Mondino lives on ten acres of woods near the County Line Road. Like Woolard, her bird feeding was something that just happened. “Both of our families grew up in the country and both used to feed birds,” referring to her husband Mike’s family. “We would always throw out bread crumbs for them. It just progressed from breadcrumbs to birdseed.” Mondino says the Indigo Bunting is her favorite bird. “But we also have a Pileated Woodpecker,” says Mondino. “It looks just like Woody Woodpecker.” The crow-sized woodpecker spots a bright red cap of feathers on its head. Like the Woolards, the Mondinos buy their birdseed in bulk quantities. “We buy cracked corn, thistle and sunflower seeds by the 40 or 50 pound bags,” Mondino says. “Goldfinch and Purple Finches love the thistle, woodpecker and doves like the cracked corn.” “I have wild turkeys that come and eat. But they are looking for insects or anything else on the ground to eat, not just birdseed. Mike used to shoot game birds,” Mondino laughs, “now he just feeds them.” But while the birds have nothing to fear from Mike, they still have to be wary. “Hawks will come and eat the other birds.” Mondino says. “I suppose they have to eat

Making their summer home in Southern Canada and wintering in the southern states, Cedar Waxwings are a rare sight in West Frankfort, but can sometimes be spotted in the spring on their journey north.

too. You can always tell when a hawk is nearby as the birds will stay in the bushes or trees.” “It is relaxing to watch them, they are funny little guys,” Mondino explained when asked why she does it. And evidently it is something a lot of people enjoy. “It is not unusual for us to come home and find friends or neighbors sitting on our picnic table, just watching those birds.”

A trio of Golden Finches, bedecked in their winter plummage, perch on one of Gayla Mondino’s bird feeders while a white-breasted nuthatch looks on.

Billy Coffey lives with his wife and 2 children in the foothills of Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains. A product of his small-town locale, Billy counts as assets his rural authenticity, unwavering sense of purpose, and insatiable curiousity--all of which tend to make his front porch a comfortably crowded place. Snow Day is his first novel. You can also find him at his website: http://billycoffey.com. Good Living in

West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014 23

The Rest of the Story...

TABLE PRIDE

Bakery

care for Vello with the help of a relative. Pete wouldn’t have known at the time that it would be nine years before his family would reunite in his new homeland. One of the things he did after arriving here was to legally change his last name from Zdravkovich to Zavich. “It was just too many letters,” Vida explained about her father’s action. “It was too confusing to be in business. Vello and Vlado wanted to play basketball in high school. Imagine trying to announce a game on radio and referring to Vlada Zdravkovich,” she laughed. “There is a 10-year difference between my age and my brothers,” Vida continues. “It was nine years before my mother got to come to America. I was born in 1949. Next were my sister, Vera, and then my sister, Nancy. All our names except Nancy start with a “V”, but it wasn’t intentional. We were mostly named by Godparents, and Joann and Pete Zavich stand with their daughters Vida, Nancy andVera in the doorway of the Table Pride Bakery which was located on the south side of the street in the 200 block of East Main Street across from the it just turned out that way.” post office. Some West Frankfort residents will Photo Courtesy of Veda Zavich remember the Zavich boys being members of the FCHS Redbirds’ most successful basketball teams. Both went to State with It was the approximately 15 years before the team and Vello also placed 12th at state By Gail Rissi Thomas Table Pride closed that most of us remember, in Cross Country in the early Sixties Both ocal residents have many warm and during which it was owned by Yugoslavian brothers received basketball scholarships to fuzzy memories of West Frankfort immigrants Pete and Joann Zavich, who Southwest Louisiana Institute in Lafayette, from the Fifties and Sixties. In with their five children became our friends Louisiana, and both were engineers for addition to images of people with armloads and neighbors and an important part of the McDonnell Douglas in St. Louis. Vello of packages walking on the Main Street community. passed away several years go, and Vlado is sidewalks some of Southern Illinois’ When Vida Zavich, the oldest daughter a consultant for Boeing Aircraft in St. Louis finest stores, there is another sensory of the family contacted us about buying today. Their team photographs hang in the characteristic that many people recall. At our book, West Frankfort Back in the Day, lobby of the FCHS Gymnasium. certain times of day, an overwhelming I realized that I now had a source from Pete Zavich was definitely chasing the aroma of fresh baked bread drifted through which to obtain “the rest of the story.” Pete American Dream. “My dad always wanted the community and infiltrated the shops. and Joann Zavich had six children. Their to come to America and own a Cadillac,” That was Table Pride Bakery, holding court first-born son, Lubisan, died at a very early Vida says. “He did that; he owned two almost directly across from the Post Office age and was buried in Yugoslavia. The Cadillacs in his lifetime. He later wanted a and luring passersby with all the treats and next two sons, Vlado and Vello, were also Zenith television when he saw one, and he born in Yugoslavia. When Pete’s father managed to do that, too. He always bought treasures for which they were famous. We have previously written extensive immigrated to America and sent for Pete Zeniths from Walton’s TV.” stories about Table Pride, telling its history and his brother to join him, they followed, When Pete wanted to buy the bakery in from its meager beginnings in the 1920’s but Pete was only allowed to bring one son. the mid Fifties, he made a trip to Detroit when George and Steve opened its doors With WWII on the horizon, he decided to call for assistance from his friends and and how it grew into a major Southern to bring Vlado, the oldest. Although still relatives who had settled there. He went to Illinois business with flourishing wholesale young at the time, Vlado would be more each of them asking for loans and was very and retail operations. Unfortunately, we vulnerable to being conscripted if things successful in obtaining what he needed. never really extended the story to its end. didn’t happen quickly. He left his wife to “He told me he returned to West Frankfort

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West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

with $120,000 and a pistol in a brown paper They featured a complete line of decorated “One year, Dad bid on the bread service sack,” says West Frankfort resident Paul cakes, including wedding cakes, baked by for the West Frankfort schools and was Culpepper, who worked at the bakery the John Grubb and Oakley Blades. “We had underbid by a penny a loaf. He was so entire time that the Zavich family owned it. doughnuts, bearclaws, horseshoes, and offended that he got Mr. Trobaugh to help “I worked for Norovich for several years. brownies. We had devil dogs, which were him and they wrote a full page letter to the Norovich sold the bakery once to a man individual long chocolate cakes with cream Daily American, saying that it would seem named Adolph Williams. That didn’t last filling and topped with cream just like in the economy of the community would be long; Williams couldn’t make a go of it, but our cream horns. And the Washington worth more than that. I was mortified, but Pete made it a huge success.” Pies,” Vida said, “how could I forget those? he got phone calls and letters from people “I know that story about the trip to That was my favorite.” Washington Pie all over West Frankfort agreeing with him. Detroit,” Vida recalls. “I don’t know that was a kind of small double crust raisin pie, Still, he was so disheartened; it was like he it was $120,000, but pretty close. Paul a staple in many coal miners’ buckets. The just gave up. He closed the doors of Table would probably know that better than we cream horns recipe was carried to Blades Pride Bakery.” He later opened a small would. We were just kids. I never knew Bakery by Oakley Blades, and then was tavern in Johnston City. about the pistol, but who knows? Dad was used by Town Bakery in Herrin. They still This spring, the Zavich Family—Vlado, very successful. I know he paid it all back sell cream horns at Dixie Cream Doughnuts. Vera, Vida and Nancy, the spouses, children within about five years. He was able to “Any time we come to West Frankfort,” and grandchildren—are making a trip to provide a very good life for all of us.” Vida says, “we always have to buy cream West Frankfort, a kind of journey to their “I baked the bread,” Culpepper explains. horns, because that is the only place we can roots. “We’re going to rent a bus and we are “We baked probably over 4,000 loaves still buy something like Daddy made.” all coming back to West Frankfort,” Vida of bread a day. We had 8 or 10 delivery Things began to change in the Sixties. says. “We’re going to all the old haunts, trucks that delivered to hospitals, schools, The unions came in, and big bakeries, such where we lived on Oak Street, where the restaurants and groceries; that was the as Bunny Bread and Colonial began to bakery was, the park, and of course the sliced and wrapped bread. At one time we take over. “My dad expanded the bakery cemetery. We’re going to show all the kids employed 32 people. There were many on the west and we had a small deli with where their grandparents made their mark times when we worked 12-14 hours a sandwiches and places to sit and eat, but he in America.” day. I baked about 200 loaves of French just couldn’t keep up with the big industries, “I love bakeries,” she adds. “I always and Italian bread a day.” That is what most where they made the batter-mixed bread have and I still do. Bakeries are such people remember about Table Pride. The and were able to pay higher wages. The special places. Almost everyone you see bread was sold in an open white sack, and it sugar crisis was looming; everything cost in a bakery is smiling. A bakery is the wasn’t difficult to catch it when it was still more to make. We sold our flour sacks happiest place I know. warm. My sister, Genelle, recalls walking to women to make dishtowels and all our to the bakery with our neighbor, Susan leftover bread and pastries to hog farmers Ahlm Willmore, on a bread-buying errand for hog feed, but nothing helped.” for the evening meal. “We would start pinching little pieces off the top,” Genelle recalls. “By the time we got home, we had made a pretty good dent in a fresh loaf of bread.” “We had a big cooler where they kept butter, milk and perishables,” Culpepper says. “Some days I would take that hot bread out of the oven, get a big piece of butter, split that bread open and put the butter inside. I think sometimes I almost ate a whole loaf,” he says. “Of course, I was skinny as a rail in those days too.” There were many other Table Pride workers in 1955: Left to right: Bernard Melvin, Stanley Blades, Paul Culpepper, John Grubbs, Johnny Pasquino, good things to come Andrew Achiers, Jack Blades, Roy Harkings, Oscar East, Eugene Wilmore, Billy Norvick Jr., Ann Marla and Pete Zavich. (Not out of the Table Pride pictured: Oakley Blades, Bill Brown and Santina Levanti.) Photo courtesy of Paul Culpepper Bakery besides bread. Good Living in

West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014 25

AT THE GRAMMY’S

West Frankfort’s Allison Durfee Was There

(Right) FCHS graduate Allison Durfee strikes her own pose on the red carpet runway at this year Grammy Awards Ceremony held in Los Angeles. (Above) The interior of the Staples Center in Los Angeles on Grammy night.

Photos provided

By Sherri Murphy

omeone must have forgotten to tell Allison Durfee of West Frankfort that small-town girls shouldn’t dream too big, lest they be gravely disappointed when they realize that opportunity doesn’t knock often on the doors in rural communities. Or maybe someone did, but she chose not to listen. A 2008 graduate of FCHS, Allison went on to earn her Bachelors degree in Public Relations and Psychology, but before she

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graduated from Belmont University, she fulfilled her dream of studying abroad, which she regards as a life-changing experience. She studied French in Angers, France, at L’Universite Catholique de l’Quest. While attending university in France, she also attended the 2012 Olympic games, visited Spain, and explored all of France, including her favorite excursion, a daylong climb to the top of Mont Saint Michel. Mountain-top experiences seem to be a recurring theme for Allison, as her networking within the public relations sector led her to fulfill another dream, which catapulted her high enough to reach the stars

West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

when she landed a position as a “talent escort” during the 56th Annual Grammy Awards held recently in Los Angeles. Allison’s job description included escorting stars down the red carpet and also setting up interviews with various media outlets. She also worked the photo wall, directing the talent to each photo point. Meeting, speaking to, and guiding celebrities would certainly leave many starstruck, however Allison said that after her initial nervousness subsided, she found herself in “work mode” and felt very natural

doing her job as a professional. “At first, I couldn’t believe I was there. I was nervous, but I knew that I needed to just get the first step out of the way. Once I introduced myself to the talent, I was in work mode. All in all, they are just people.” Her mother, Amy Durfee, also of West Frankfort, was excited but not at all surprised by her daughter’s success or how well she handled herself during this exciting opportunity, “Allison was always very, very adventurous—never met a stranger. She was my social butterfly. This attribute serves her well in the PR arena.” Although Allison was not allowed to ask for autographs or take any photos, she experienced moments she will never forget. These included meeting Tom Hanks, whom she found to be very sweet, and the most affable personality she encountered. “Tom Hanks joked around with most of the people he came in contact with. He was smiling and said hello to almost everyone! Even his body language was normal! He didn’t walk with his nose up in the air or anything. It was refreshing.” Some of the most exciting moments for her included witnessing the two the surviving Beatles, the legendary Paul McCartney and Ringo Star, reunite on stage for the first time in over five years. She also met Jane Fonda and was a guest in the audience as Queen Latifah officiated the wedding ceremony in which 34 couples exchanged vows during the Grammy Awards. “The entire experience was moving. At times, I would have to stop myself and take in everything.” Another brush with greatness included her encounter with Sammy Hagar, formerly the lead singer for the rock group Van Halen for many years. “Sammy and his wife were the sweetest people ever. Sammy was so laid back the entire time. He asked questions about me, and he also told me how to make his favorite drink!” Allison also met one of her father, Mike Durfee’s, favorite musicians, Lars Ulrich, the drummer for Metallica, and found both him and his fiancé were very personable.

Durfee prepares a segment on Giuliana Rancic, who is currently a co-anchor on E! News, the flagship entertainment news program of E!. Rancic also co-hosts “Fashion Police” on E!.

“They basically just said, ‘Whatever you want us to do, we will just follow you.’ So we talked about the event and about Metallica since they were performing at the Grammy’s. I also told him my dad was a huge fan! Haha!” As a child, Allison watched the Grammy Awards, focusing mostly on the gowns worn by the celebrities. She was impressed with several celebrity fashion statements. “Ciara wore the most beautiful gown, a gold beaded custom Emilio Pucci gown, and she was even pregnant. As for the male fashions, Daft Punk looked totally sharp, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis looked so unique they caught my eye immediately.”

When Allison learned she would soon be among such a star-studded line-up, choosing her own special attire for the evening proved to be a bit stressful. After several attempts to find the perfect dress, she decided on a Mesh Yoke Peplum dress by Bebe, and a striking pair of black Michael Kors ‘Carla’ heels, and topped off her look with a trendy black leather jacket. This go-getter worked three different events: MusiCures Person of the Year Honoring Carole King for 5 hours; the Clive Davis Pre-Grammy Gala for an additional 5 hours; and the Grammy Awards Ceremony, from 10 AM-7 PM. “For the MusiCures event that honored

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West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014 27

Carole King, I was a talent escort for the red carpet coverage. I walked with Ozzie Ozbourne and his family. It was during this event I ran into Tom Hanks behind the red carpet.” Allison was privileged to enjoy performances by multi-Grammy-winning artists The Dixie Chicks, Lady Gaga, Bette Midler, Jason Mraz, and James Taylor as they honored King. During the Clive Davis pre-Grammy

Gala, many stars were in attendance including Neil Diamond, Taylor Swift, Rihanna, Metallica, Joni Mitchell, Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson, and Rod Stewart, to name just a few. Although exhausted, she still mustered enough energy to attend the After Party. ”We ran into Paris Hilton, she was with Birdman and Mack Maine. Other than that, we danced the night away with Ciara and Boyz II Men.”

Still in her early twenties, Allison has already fulfilled many of her dreams, although she refuses to stop there. She plans to work in the communications industry and dreams of working with Jimmy Fallon. No ones should be surprised if yet another dream of hers becomes reality. Many of us will wait for a “shout out” to her hometown peeps here in West Frankfort, where those dreams originated, and we can declare, “We knew her when....”

What’s Coming In Our Next Issue

Executive Director Kathie Kudela stands in the auditorium of the Niagara Falls Art and Cultural Center in Niagara Falls, NY. If you think it looks a bit like Paschedag Auditorium, you are right. It was designed by William B. Ittner, the same architect who designed Frankfort Community High School. Find out more about Ittner and his work in our next issue.

Do You Remember the Caleb Bike Farm and Petting Zoo from the 1980’s and early 1990’s? Back: Jetta Veldman , Leslie Hampleman, Kacy Gore and Cassie Ruzich. Front: Jody Hopkins and Dr. Michael Clay

Dr. Michael Clay General Dentistry

205 N. Ida Street • West Frankfort • (618) 937-2737 28

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West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

Caleb Bike Farmer Ivan Rodden (right) helps a toddler feed Charlotte Bronte, the Angora Goat, at a Caleb Bike Farm Petting Zoo display at HerrinFesta Italiana in Herrin, Illinois, in the early 1990’s.Photo courtesy of Dan Rodden. If you have a memory or photo of the Petting Zoo that you would like to share, please contact Michael Thomas at mthomas100@mchsi.com or phone (618) 937-2019. Deadline is April 30,2014.

West Frankfort Street Department 2014: Larry Presley, Jim Edwards, Mike Bonner, Roger Stanley (Superintendenet), Kent Earnhart and Jeff Woolard.

Kent Earnheart (backhoe) and Jeff Woolard remove snow and ice from parking spaces on Main Street.

Photos by Michael A. Thomas

Hometown Heroes: The Street Department

Up high in the bucket, Jim Edwards takes down a Christmas decoration from a light pole in front of the Post Office. Good Living in

West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014 29

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West Frankfort No. 21 Spring 2014

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Please Support The

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