Cumberland Times-News

Jim Goldsworthy - Anything and Everything

April 20, 2014

Think it’s not a small world? You’re wrong

Yes, you read that right in the paper a couple of weeks ago. I covered a wedding as a newspaper reporter. I’ve retired from doing regular stories because my primary duties lie elsewhere, and I don’t have the time or mental energy for it. But I agreed to do it for a couple of reasons, one of which goes back more than 40 years. The former proprietor of The Famous North End Tavern told me about a wedding that was to take place at the Lions Center for Rehabilitation and Extended Care, where his wife works.

The wedding didn’t involve residents, but a young man and woman who go there frequently to perform. They wanted to include their friends, who have become an extended family and in most cases wouldn’t be able to go to a wedding someplace else.

I also went because nobody would believe that I of all people would cover a wedding, and because I relish talking with people who are older than I am. (Yes, dammit, I hear you. There aren’t as many of them as there used to be.)
Goldy’s Rule 161: Older folks are like books you haven’t read. Open them and you will learn wonderful things. Listen a lot more than you talk, and you will gain wisdom that will suit both you and the younger folks you will share it with as you grow older.

A friend from my college days was an African (he tried to teach me how to drink Scotch, and I tried to teach him how to drink bourbon) who told me something I’ve never forgotten.

Chris said there was much about America that he liked, but what he couldn’t understand was why we basically ignored or even ridiculed our older people. The old ones in his culture are revered because they have accumulated a lifetime of grace and wisdom.

I talked with several of the center’s residents and could have stayed there all day. It was more hoots than a barn full of owls.

When I was at West Virginia University in Morgantown, I roomed with an older couple. The man grew up in Lonaconing, where he was a boyhood friend of Lefty Grove, and spent several years on New York Yankees’ minor league teams.

He was good enough to have pitched both ends of an exhibition double-header against the Chicago Cubs’ starting team and shut them out both games. The newspaper clipping was framed on his wall.

Sadly, this was before free agency. The Yankees had the best team and the best pitching staff in the Major Leagues, so they didn’t need him. But neither were they going to trade him to another team and have to play against him some day.

Many nights, I was headed out on the town, but found Earl sitting on his front porch swing and decided to stay with him instead.

Great-uncle Paul Goldsworthy was a barber. Having him cut your hair could take a while, because he snipped for a few seconds, then stopped cutting for several minutes so he could talk.

But I loved it and frequently visited him and Great-aunt Mary at their home.

After Paul died, my dad (his nephew) occasionally said he regretted that he’d never asked him about such-and-such a thing.

One time Dad said he’d always wondered about a fellow our whole family knew, and why he never married his long-time girlfriend.

Paul knew him better than the rest of us did, and I told Dad I’d asked Paul about that. Paul said the guy found out that she was running around on him ... but that was all right, because
he’d been running around on her.

Paul visited us one Easter while I was still living at home. By the time he left, it was snowing to beat the band.

Dad and I mentioned that Grandmother Goldsworthy used to say winter wasn’t through with us until we’d had our Easter storm. (Which, since it snowed Tuesday night in Danville, we now have had. Winter is
over.) “We haven’t had any decent weather,” said Paul, “since they put that (four-word Anglo-Saxonism) on the moon!” Dad and I chuckled, but Paul told us, “You look back, and you’ll see I’m right.” That shut us up. A few decades have passed, and I’m not laughing any more. Paul truly was a book filled with wonderful things to learn about.

One of his pages had to do with pitching pennies in a back alley when he was a boy with Diamond Jim Brady. Another involved the time he drove his automobile from Keyser to California and back ... in an era when only a few of America’s roads had been paved.

Five surviving members of the World War II-era U.S. Army 78th Lightning Division and their families returned to Keyser for the annual J. Edward Kelley Award activities last week. Kelley is Keyser High’s Medal of Honor recipient and served with them.

I’ve become friends with three of them and always hope to see them at the reception each year. They came back again, and you’d never think they were in their mid-to-late 80s.

A man about my age whose late father fought with the 78th saw the jacket I was wearing and asked if I was associated with Chapter 172 of the Vietnam Veterans of America in Cumberland.

I said I was, then asked if he was a Vietnam Veteran. When he said he was, I shook his hand and handed him one of the chapter’s “Welcome Home” coins.

He looked at it for a moment and said, “I was in Gettysburg last year, and when I went to Little Round Top, I met two guys in Union uniforms who were from Chapter 172. They gave me one of these coins.”

That, I told him, was my buddy and me — Capt. Gary and First Sgt. Goldy.

As we talked, the thought crossed my mind that — just like the old soldiers we came to honor — he and I are becoming books filled with pages of things we must pass along to those who come after us.

When it was time to leave, I said I hoped we both would live long to see Vietnam Veterans treated with the same reverence America holds for the World War II guys. They deserve it.

“I hope so, too,” he said. “Maybe we will.”

And now I have another new friend. I’m already looking forward to seeing him again next year.

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Jim Goldsworthy - Anything and Everything
  • He means well, and this time they spared his life

    Our pal Phil is the only re-enactor certified in writing by both the Lee and Custis families to portray Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee (whose wife was Mary Anna Custis Lee). When he’s in uniform, he generally stops at the bottom of the path that leads to the summit of Little Round Top, salutes Capt. Gary and First Sgt. Goldy and asks permission to join us. (Get it? Generally ... General Lee?) We always return his salute and grant him permission, in part because he’s our friend and also because the real Lee never got to see what it really looks like from up there. (Get it? Grant ... Grant? U.S. Grant? Real Lee ... really? OK. I hear you. That’s enough. Seriouslee.) Phil gets a kick out of being able to sneak up on us while we’re distracted by tourists.

    July 20, 2014

  • They’d have fallen like Autumn leaves

    So there we were, minding our own business (at least momentarily), leaning against the cannon at Little Round Top.

    July 13, 2014

  • Better read that french fry before you eat it

    People give me otherwise-insignificant items they hope will amuse or inspire me. I appreciate this. I’m always glad for free entertainment, which as Goldy’s Rule 33 says is everywhere. All you have to do is wait and it will come to you. Also, I have been writing columns for 37 years and embrace inspiration anywhere I can find it.

    July 6, 2014

  • The moose is loose, and it’s coming for you

    So how would you like to look out your kitchen door window onto your porch and see a moose looking back at you from close range?

    June 28, 2014

  • There are some debts you can never repay

    Today’s column will be relatively short, as my columns go, for reasons that should become apparent, and I thought long and hard before writing it.

    June 21, 2014

  • It could have saved the county a lot of money

    Random thoughts sometimes occur to me when I least expect it, usually when my brain has become tired.
    When I voice these thoughts at work or in other places, people may tell me, “Goldy? It’s time for you to go home.” Yes, ma’am.
    Here are two random thoughts of recent vintage:
    • If Bugs Bunny were an Emergency Medical Technician, would that make him a MedicHare?
    • If Daisy Duck got a job driving for United Parcel Service, would she be an UPS-a-Daisy?
    I wouldn’t blame you if you think that sounds Goofy — or Daffy.

    June 15, 2014

  • These two were part of the Not Top Ten

    Occasionally, at this time of year, I see reference to a “class orator” or a “class speaker.”

    Nothing wrong with that — people can call such things whatever they want, as far as I’m concerned — but it makes me wonder. Have “valedictorian” and “salutatorian” become politically incorrect, and I didn’t notice? It may come as a surprise to you, but I really have not kept up with what is politically correct or incorrect. That’s what people tell me, anyway. With some of them, it actually seems to be a compliment.

    June 8, 2014

  • Coming soon to a highway near you?

    People say to me, “Goldy? Can I ask you a stupid question?”

    In theory — and theory only — the correct response is: “The only stupid question is the one you don’t ask.” Not so much. There ARE stupid questions, some of them so stupid that to call them stupid is to damn them with faint praise. Other questions are — on the face of it — legitimate questions, but shouldn’t be treated as such ... not if you subscribe to the same philosophy that I do: Free entertainment is everywhere; all you have to do is wait, and it will come to you.

    June 1, 2014

  • This was a skill that proved very useful

    The Belmont Park stewards have decided to let California Chrome wear his nasal strip during the Run for the Carnations. Nasal strips usually are worn by people who snore and may have saved numerous marriages. It helps the Triple Crown hopeful to breathe, and some twolegged athletes wear nasal strips for the same reason. In this case, Chrome’s nasal strip may keep him from (wait for it) ... losing by a nose.

    May 25, 2014

  • He made a big splash by asking this question

    “I don’t know who you were talking to last night,” said Capt. Gary, “but you were talking and moaning in your sleep. Never heard you do that before.” Neither has anyone else, I said. Besides, I had told him not to be surprised if we had visitors. I wasn’t at the top of my game for a couple of days, and he said some of our friends asked him if I was all right. It’s not the first time for this, so now I’ll know to watch out for it. It can affect you and is not something to play around with — as our friend Cathy found out.

    May 18, 2014

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